I just finished listening to the Huberman Lab episode “How to Increase Your Emotional Intelligence” with Dr. Marc Brackett on a walk today.

Emotional intelligence has felt especially salient this year. I don’t think I’ve ever been asked to be more vulnerable or more precise about what I’m feeling than I have this year.. Between this podcast, the book, Nonviolent Communication, the feelings list (found in the book), and the emotional wheel I used in therapy. I’m starting to feel like I might be onto something.

I’ve realized communication often breaks the minute we try to describe precise experiences with blanket words (the easy ones in the centre).

“I’m angry” could mean almost anything.

Maybe I feel disappointed.

Maybe I feel disconnected.

Maybe I don’t feel heard.

Or, or, or, maybe:

When you’re watching chess videos while I’m telling you about my day, I feel alienated because I’m trying to connect with you. Would you give me ten minutes of your full attention?

Haha. A little too close to home. But brutally specific and personal, how could I argue with that?

hint: I didn't.

The basic formula from Nonviolent Communication is simple:

Observe what happened without adding judgment.

Identify what you’re actually feeling.

Take responsibility for the need underneath it.

Request something specific.

It reminded me of Wittgenstein’s philosophy around language and intelligence:

“The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.”

Maybe the limits of our emotional vocabulary are also the limits of our emotional intelligence.

At one point, Dr. Brackett said Huberman had the mark of a scientist because of the nuance in how he spoke.

That stuck out to me.

Maybe the difference between effective and ineffective communication often comes down to specificity and whether we are present and patient enough to find the precise words.

But this isn’t only how I talk to other people.

It’s how I need to talk to myself.

The language we use governs how we speak to ourselves.

“What the hell am I doing with my life?” might actually mean:

“I’m disappointed that this attempt didn’t work.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what to do next.”

I chose to pursue entrepreneurship, and that comes with a lot of uncertainty. I wouldn’t change that decision for anything in the world, but today was disheartening.

I sent out custom proposals and haven’t heard anything back.

That silence makes it easy to turn one disappointing day into an existential crisis.

But I don’t have enough information yet.

I can keep going until I have a large enough sample to know whether I need to adjust the proposals, the offer, who I’m sending them to or something else entirely.

Maybe I’m not questioning my whole life.

Maybe I’m just disappointed and uncertain today — which was always apart of journey I signed up for.

Those aren’t the same problems, so they shouldn’t produce the same response.

Building anything comes with enough emotional volatility as is. If I can’t accurately name what I’m feeling, I may course-correct in the wrong direction.

Sometimes I need to work harder.

Sometimes I need a better plan.

Sometimes I'm not good enough…yet.

and sometimes I probably just need to go to sleep. My productive brain is OOO for the rest of the day.

This reflection reminds me that often times the only thing standing between a manageable emotion and a red-button moment is having the right words for it.

I feel like I already knew that. You probably did too, haha.

Maybe this is one of those things we need to learn less and be reminded of more.

Praying we can ultimately slow it down when it counts.

Until next time, Substack.

for anyone pulling on the same thread:

• Talking to Strangers by Malcolm Gladwell

• Philosophical Investigations by Ludwig Wittgenstein

• Nonviolent Communication by Marshall B. Rosenberg

• Never Split the Difference by Chris Voss with Tahl Raz

• Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman

— j. mcgregor

I hope, like the sun, I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe the day after that too. For now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

I want to use this space to think in public.

To write about what I’m building, what I’m afraid of, what I’m learning, and what I notice while trying to make a meaningful life from unfinished material.

I’m interested in a few questions at the moment.

How should we spend our time before it runs out?

How can we make that time healthier, longer, and more enjoyable?

Why do some products feel like magic while others feel like work?

What makes people change, avoid change, build, destroy, love, compete, and become who they are?

That will lead me into philosophy, healthspan, psychology, design, technology, business, and whatever else the work demands.

Some of these essays will be thoughtful. Some may be rough. A few will probably contradict things I wrote before.

That seems appropriate.

This is, after all, Life Under Construction.

For anyone wrestling with similar questions, building something uncertain, or trying to live more deliberately, welcome.

— j.mcgregor