The simplicity is, of course, a deception. It often seems the more important something is, the more difficult it is to articulate, not to mention fully understand and apply. This is true of everything from scientific concepts, where the theories that come closest to explaining our universe are often some of the hardest to grasp, to the techniques and skills that, in art or sport, push a performer from just good (and therefore nothing special) to great (and famous, and popular, and so on). And it’s also true of the things that apply to each person individually: figuring out what makes you happy is critical to, well, happiness, but for most of us it is an elusive, lifelong quest. Understanding personal happiness, though, is just part of answering that question: Who are you?

I haven’t gotten any mysterious postcards lately, but the question has been on my mind as I try to move from a perception of myself I’ve recently realized is rather amorphous to something more crisp and definite.

The power of identity

A person’s understanding of who they are guides a remarkable percentage of their day-to-day behavior. Robert Cialdini, one of the most notable researchers on influence, notes that identity is an incredibly strong lever in triggering an activity: for example, if you believe yourself to be a person who cares about the environment, you’re more likely to donate to forest conservation. This may seem self-evident at first glance, but it turns out that if someone asks you to reaffirm that you care first, you’ll donate more money than if you’re asked without that initial appeal to your identity.

This is but one (paraphrased) example. Your identity also determines the things you like and dislike, and the amplitude of your reaction to discussions about a topic are strongly determined by how close you hold it to your identity. Paul Graham notes that most online discussions of religion and politics inevitably turn into flame wars because these things are so core to most people’s identities, and recommends you keep your identity small to avoid getting into petty fights about things that may not ultimately be important.

Keep your identity broad

The problem with keeping your identity small, though, is that a “broad” identity is one of the things that makes a person interesting. Graham writes that “the more labels you have for yourself, the dumber they make you,” but oftentimes those very labels allow you to bond with people, make impassioned (and well-reasoned) arguments, and accomplish improbable things.

Some of the most fascinating people I know are those who have integrated a broad and varied set of beliefs or activities into their identity. These people achieve the most remarkable things. And more often than not, thanks to their broad identities, they’re the ones with the largest, most diverse networks of friends and compatriots.

A broad identity doesn’t—or at least shouldn’t—mean you cannot have reasonable discussions about what you believe as long as you’re mindful of why you have those beliefs and are willing to re-examine the assumptions that led up to them. All it means is that you have a diverse range of interests. Subjectively, I suspect it also means you are happier, because you have more groups you feel you belong to.

Who am I?

While I’ve never been shy about my opinions on a wide range of topics, I have been extremely hesitant in letting things become a part of my identity.

I know from past experience that when I identify with something, it is a long-term commitment: once I joined AIESEC in college, I dedicated several years of my life to it, traveled to a number of countries, and attended over a dozen conferences. I remain involved as an alumnus to this day. I spent more than four years writing for my college’s newspaper. But those activities set a high bar: I am hesitant to do things I’m not sure I can fully become invested in.

Some parts of my identity, like the extent of my nerdom, are also things I keep private most of the time. I’ve probably seen more Japanese television, both live action and animated, than most people attending anime conventions, but I no longer feel like this is a large enough part of my identity to attend myself.

The net result of all this is that while I find a lot of things interesting, I haven’t been inclined to commit to some small set of them. And the outcome, predictably, has been that sometimes I bore even myself. I feel increasingly that my unwillingness to expand my identity has held me back from experiences that could have a material effect on my happiness.

Even if I risk being manipulated by cunning influencers or getting into online flame wars, I will expand my identity, though I don’t yet know in what direction. I think the benefits will be worth it.

While I have a number of reasons to be happy with my year, my self-evaluation was mixed, largely because of one reason: I found myself falling back into an old, familiar trap. I’ve been fighting it for much of my life and only started overcoming regularly in the last few years; it is a problem I share with a large swath of the world. It is, quite simply, that I am far too likely to take things as they come.

The pitfalls of going with the flow

The value of being able to adjust to whatever comes your way is critical and should not be underestimated. Many of the best experiences I had while traveling came about as a result of letting things happen spontaneously—from getting treated to an intense Russian sauna experience in Ust-Kamenogorsk to a bizarre trip from Munich to Barcelona via Barcellona, Italy (don’t ask).

However, the same attitude that works well for day-to-day decisions can be disastrous for major life decisions. In these cases, going with the flow is the equivalent of taking the path of least resistance: the path that does not challenge you to develop yourself, or, worse, can lead you thoroughly astray. It can happen in any facet of life: the job you get, the college you go to, the hobbies you take up. And while for most people with a middle class upbringing this path leads to the inescapable gloom of mediocrity, for many people across the world the “path of least resistance” leads to poverty, drug addiction and crime.

Acting with intent

If going with the flow can become the antithesis of personal growth, acting with intent is the catalyst that makes it happen. When a person acts with intent, they are aligning their actions towards a specific purpose.

Actions with intent are generally goal-driven, but even more than that, they are deliberate: the critical element is in making a conscious decision—“I have decided to do this, for the following reasons.” This type of action is the outcome of a process that—despite its simplicity—I have always found hard to put into practice.

Changing my approach

Driven by the desire to make improvements, I’ve spent much of the holiday reading about various frameworks for goal setting and methods for productivity improvements. To my chagrin I found that none of these felt quite right to me: I could not see myself following through on any of the more intense ones, and the more basic ones struck me as things I wouldn’t think about often enough.

Instead, and partially inspired by a post by a good friend of mine, Justin Hsu, I’ve concluded that the way to keep myself accountable is to boil my goals down into a single question: Am I acting with intent?

This isn’t a “theme” for the year; it’s much too vague and too broad for that. Rather, it is an ongoing sanity test for me, as I make decisions and choose to do (or not do) certain things throughout the year.

I’m still working through applying the aforementioned process to setting my own goals, and I’ll share it as I do. But the entire way, I’ll be asking myself that same question.

If you have no wish, how can it possibly come true?

—Seth Godin, Ruby Slippers

Yet another reminder of the power of tiny actions that ripple out and have surprising effects. I don’t for one second take full, or even majority, credit for her decision. I just know that I’m proud to have played a role, however small.

It makes me think: what can each of us do with just 5-10 minutes a day that can truly make a difference? If we could always change someone’s life with a few minutes of thought and a few minutes of action, what would we choose to do? And how do we make our few minutes count for as much as possible?

Sequential

• 12345 – Schenectady, NY
• 23456 – Virginia Beach, VA
• 45678 – Scottown, OH
• 43210 – Columbus, OH
• 76543 – Killeen, TX

Same

• 22222 – Arlington, VA
• 44444 – Newton Falls, OH
• 55555 – Young America, MN (Actually, Young America has Zip codes 55550-55559.)

Two alternating numbers (non-exhaustive)

• 01010 – Brimfield, MA (Those crazy puritans and their crazy city names…)
• 02020 – Brant Rock, MA
• 04040 – Harrison, ME
• 05050 – Mc Indoe Falls, VT
• 06060 – North Granby, CT
• 07070 – Rutherford, NJ
• 08080 – Sewell, NJ
• 10101 – New York, NY
• 12121 – Melrose, NY
• 13131 – Parish, NY
• 14141 – Springville, NY
• 16161 – Wheatland, PA
• 19191 – Philadelphia, PA
• 21212 – Baltimore, MD
• 23232 – Richmond, VA
• 25252 – Le Roy, WV
• 28282 – Charlotte, NC
• 29292 – Columbia, SC
• 30303 – Atlanta, GA
• 31313 – Hinesville, GA
• 32323 – Lanark Village, FL
• 37373 – Sale Creek, TN
• 40404 – Berea, KY (Home of the File Not Found error!)
• 43434 – Harbor View, OH
• 45454 – Dayton, OH
• 53535 – Edmund, WI
• 54545 – Manitosh Waters, WI
• 56565 – Nashua, MN
• 60606 – Chicago, IL
• 62626 – Carlinville, IL
• 63636 – Des Arc, MO
• 64646 – Humphreys, MO
• 65656 – Galena, MO
• 70707 – Gonzales, LA
• 72727 – Elkins, AR
• 73737 – Fairview, OK
• 74747 – Kemp, OK
• 75757 – Bullard, TX
• 78787 – Austin, TX
• 80808 – Calhan, CO
• 94949 – Novato, CA
• 95959 – Nevada City, CA

Random Facts

• Many of the zip codes in Ft. Lauderdale, Fl. are 3333x, where x is 0, 1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 8 and 9.
• All the zip codes starting with 666 are in Kansas, for the most part in the Topeka area.
• 69169 – Wallace, NE.
• Beamont, TX is the luckiest city in the nation (?): It holds all zip codes starting with 777.
• No one has 31337.

I greatly prefer a more practical approach to thinking about the mind: I don’t really want to contemplate how it works as long as it does. But there is one (in my opinion) common-sensical concept that I do use extensively: that of ‘mental bandwidth,’ generally in the context that I don’t have enough of it available for something.

Essentially, I find that the amount of things I can keep in my mind or consider has a finite limit, and so the things I contemplate on a regular basis are limited to the few things that I prioritize as the most important. The limit obviously decreases significantly when I am overloaded with work or other things (as I often am back home) — things like getting my assigned tasks at work accomplished, or finishing projects for school. But the mental bandwidth does not strictly vary with my free time, as some things might use up a lot of mental bandwidth while using up trivial amounts of physical time.

Since I’ve been here in Almaty I’ve discovered that without the stresses of daily life in Atlanta, I suddenly feel like I have significantly more of this bandwidth available. This leaves me free to contemplate the things that previously were too low on the priority list, like changing bad habits, or indeed relationships.

Relationships, in fact, are perhaps the best example of this mental bandwidth concept, as they require a lot of bandwidth to be viable. Whenever I even considered relationships back in Atlanta my general feeling was one of stress, guilt and frustration brought on by the fact that I knew I wasn’t able to put enough of myself into anything. Here, I’ve unexpectedly found myself with what I might consider a much… healthier range of emotions towards the idea. Ironic, considering getting into a relationship during a six-month stint in Kazakhstan probably makes very little sense. But hey — que sera, sera.

I’m not saying this from the perspective of being a cheapskate; rather, it made me muse about the things I have consciously avoided spending money on that could make a lasting improvement in my daily life. If I added up my monthly expenses for going out to eat, I could buy maybe 10-15 pairs of “nice” socks. So why am I still putting up with ones that are uncomfortable and, in some cases, developing holes?

Likewise, my laptop battery life has been disgustingly bad lately. An eBay search showed that I could buy a third-party battery for roughly $40. The utility of better battery life for me is significant; I feel like run into battery life-related annoyances several times a week. For the cost of two and a half dinners, I could remove a regular annoyance.

And yet when it comes down to daily actions, it’s always a lot easier for me to convince myself to spend money on dinner than on a new laptop battery. I would make a terrible economist.

Meanwhile, I’ve finally ordered that new laptop battery after all.