The Jordan Harbinger Show - 402: Cheryl Strayed | Creativity, Meltdowns, and Leaving It All Behind

Episode Date: September 10, 2020

Cheryl Strayed (@CherylStrayed) co-hosts the Dear Sugars podcast and is the award-winning author of several books, including Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail. What We Discuss with Cheryl Strayed: Why sometimes the only way to do something right is to do some things wrong. Why we give our best advice to others even when we can't follow through with it for ourselves. The value of surrendering to your own mediocrity in order to finish what you've started. How to avoid getting trapped in the need for other people's approval. What Cheryl really means when she says "Don't let your dreams ruin your life." And much more... Full show notes and resources can be found here: jordanharbinger.com/402 Sign up for Six-Minute Networking -- our free networking and relationship development mini course -- at jordanharbinger.com/course! Like this show? Please leave us a review here -- even one sentence helps! Consider including your Twitter handle so we can thank you personally!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Coming up on the Jordan Harbinger Show. This idea, I call it surrendering to my own mediocrity. I said, do you want to be a person who finished this book that nobody liked, that nobody published, that sits in your drawer for the rest of your life? Or do you want to be the person who never finished the novel she said she was going to write? Who always said, yeah, I'm still working on it. And as painful as that first thing is to write a novel that nobody likes and sits in a drawer all the rest of my life, I would so much rather be the person who did the work she said she was going to do than the person who didn't because she was afraid and insecure

and didn't want to have to face the idea of failure. Welcome to the show. I'm Jordan Harbinger. On the Jordan Harbinger show, we decode the stories, secrets, and skills of the world's most fascinating people. If you're new to the show, we have in-depth conversations with people at the top of their game, astronauts and entrepreneurs, spies and psychologists, and even the occasional journalist-turned poker champion, each show turns our guest's wisdom into practical advice

that you can use to build a deeper understanding of how the world works and become a better critical thinker. Today on the show, my friend Cheryl strayed. After some serious life trauma, Cheryl embarked on an 1,100-mile hike on the Pacific Crest Trail, a saga first turned into a mega best-selling book called Wild and then into a movie. Wild was actually chosen by Oprah as her first selection for Oprah's book Club 2.0. So it's kind of a big deal. Kind of killed it out there. She's a bestselling author,

amazingly insightful advice giver. You know how keen we are on advice on this show. Hell, a third of our episodes are solely advice. Reese Witherspoon played her in a movie. That's kind of amazing. Today we talk creativity, writing, adventure, loss, self-discovery, and y'all know me. There's no woo-woo crap in this episode. Stay tuned after the show because we've got some writing exercises from Cheryl as well that I'd love to share with you. Let's get into it. If you're wondering how I manage to book all these great authors, thinkers, and celebrities every single week. It is because of my network. I'm teaching you how to do the same thing. That is build a network. Whether it's for personal business reasons, doesn't matter, go over to Jordan Harbinger.com slash course and check it out.

Most of the guests on the show, they contribute to that course, they're in that course. Come join us. You'll be in smart company. Now, here's Cheryl Strayed. By the way, you might be the only person I've ever had on the show who has a statue in a major city. How cool is that? That's got to be kind of like a life hashtag life goals right there, right? It's totally weird to have a statue, and I'm deeply honored. I have to say this couple, they're Australian, and they really wanted to do this project that was about making a comment about gender equality, because, of course, an overwhelming percentage of statues are of men. And they wanted to, in some way, address this in New York City in particular. And so they approached me and said, we're making 10 or 12 statues of women, and we would love to make one of you. And at first, I have to say,

Jordan I was kind of like, uh, sure, yeah, like that's fine with me, like whatever. You know, I didn't even really believe that this was going to actually happen. And they asked me to send them a photograph that was something that might be like a cool form for a statue. So I did. And next thing you know, suddenly they're sending me photographs of the almost finished statue. And it was really, it was really thrilling. And it really happened. There it is. I went and visited it last year. I mean, when you have a statue, you got to go visit it. Yeah, and take a selfie next to it. Right? I did. I did. And go back like every 10 years and do another one. I don't know. That thing will never age, right? Kind of thing. That's right. Unlike me. But it was really an honor. I went with my husband and my

kids and we looked at it and I was like, wow, okay. And to stand among all these women. I think though the bigger thing is obviously I'm thrilled and honored, but the bigger thing is that kind of comment that they were making that like women have influenced our lives every bit as much as men have. And they haven't been honored in that public way. So I love that they're addressing that with their art. I did notice that when you go to cities that have statues of females, it's like, oh, this is like a goddess, not a real person, or this is some sort of nameless thing that's like justice, right? And then if it's a guy, it's like, this is Bernard Shaw. He lived from these years. It's an actual person. Yeah. Yeah, you're really right about that. And very often it is a kind of idealized,

yeah, like the kind of goddess woman rather than an actual woman who was every bit as complicated. as the men who have statues in their honor. When my son was about four or five, we were walking in downtown Portland, Oregon, where we live. And he looked up at me and said, how come all the statues are men? And it was really an interesting thing to see how early, like, he was observing that. And so it does matter. It really actually does.

And, of course, not just when it comes to gender, but race and, you know, all kinds of other things. You know, obviously what's happening right now, so many statues being pulled down. And I think that it's really important that we think about, like, who is it that we are idolizing in the form of a statue? And to have some consciousness about that. Yeah, I think you're right. I mean, it's something that is for an 80s kid like me is so invisible these patterns. I suppose that's true for everyone if you grew up with something. So it's kind of that old cliche, like, do you do need like Gen Z to go, hey, why are all the statues men? I don't know because old people when I would people who died before I was born decided that that was a. person worthy of celebrating, and no one's really challenged that ever for some reason. Yeah. I think the question that probably everyone has and where we should maybe start is why did you walk

1,100 miles? What's the impetus for this crazy journey? Obviously, you were already a very experienced backpacker and trekker, right? Not exactly. Not exactly. In fact, not at all. You know, I decided to hike the Pacific Crest Trail for three months, 1,100 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail because I really reached a kind of bottom or a dead end in my life.

My mom had died young of cancer. She died when she was 45 and I was 22 and a senior in college. And I didn't know what to do with my loss. My sorrow was tremendous. And after I lost my mom, and I should say my mom was really my only parent. My father by then wasn't in my life. He had left my life when I was about six. And my family fell apart.

My siblings and I all in different ways fell apart. And I went from being this really ambitious, self-directed young woman who knew she wanted to be a writer to really feeling like, you know, what was the meaning of life? What was my purpose here? And I was in such pain. I turned it inward like a lot of people do. And I was self-destructive. I was in my early 20s, so it is an era anyway where you're like, let's just see what we can do. You know, let's see if we can self-destruct it.

certainly took that to its limit. I got involved with drugs, with heroin, with just really like self-destructive promiscuity. And at a certain point, a couple of years into that by the time I was 26, I sort of woke up. I had that awakening moment and thought, what am I doing? I'm wrecking my life. And in so many ways, you know, the older me could look back and say, well, I was trying to honor my mom. I was trying to show the world. I love her so much. I'm going to ruin my life because I need to show you that she mattered. And what I realized is that the only way to really honor my mom or the only way any of us honor the people who love us well is to become who they know we can be. And in my mom's case, to become the woman she raised me to be. I didn't know how to do that. I mean, that's the hardest thing when you're at your low moment to say, how do I change? How do I go forward? How do I be different? But I knew that if I did something, that was hard, and I mean physically hard. If I did something that was solitary, that required me only to depend on myself, that I would feel more whole. And of course, if I did it in nature,

I knew that nature always made me feel that sense of wholeness. And, you know, I sort of was casting around for, in a vague kind of way, for this thing to get me back to myself. And I came upon, I happened to be in an REI store outside of Minneapolis. I was living in Minneapolis at the time. And I came upon this book, this guidebook. I was waiting in line. I was buying a shovel, which ends up, you know, it's totally a metaphor. I had to dig myself out. But it's funny how life can be metaphor. And I came upon this guidebook. I'd never heard of the Pacific Crest Trail. And there was this book. I thought, wow, there is this long national trail that goes from the Mexican border to Canada through California, Oregon, and Washington. What would it be like? to walk on it. And so that's where it began. I just decided that I would be expanded by doing this thing. So heroin being a cure for the pain, the same reason you hiked. It seems slightly healthier to hike versus doing heroin, I guess. So there's that. You've been through the other side. I wonder when you see people who are like in the streets and they've, you know, these homeless

people or not or just people who are on drugs. Do you have a different feeling of empathy for them than maybe a lot of other people do because you also were maybe not on the street doing it, but a few steps away, probably. Absolutely. I mean, everything I've ever done, every experience I've ever had, positive and negative, it's given me a deeper understanding of whatever group of people that is, right? When I used drugs, when I used heroin in particular, I saw really how powerful that feeling is to want to do it again and again and again, how also awful that feeling is. I mean, it wasn't like when I was using heroin. I was thinking, this is a blast. This is wonderful.

What I was thinking is, what am I doing? What am I doing? This isn't what I was born to do and be. And yet there was such a strong pull. And I will say when I do see addicts and I have met a lot of addicts in the years that I've been talking about Wild and I work, you know, a lot of people, thankfully, in recovery. There is, I think, nothing more humbling than seeing firsthand how you can slip, how you can lose your life to the disease of addiction. You know, I never became a heroin addict. I used it destructively, but I danced along the edge of that danger. And thankfully, I had people who I loved and who loved me intervene and pulled me out. And I also had just enough presence of mind to say, they're right. I can't do this. And so, you know, I didn't go all the way into addiction. But certainly I have that sense of humility and compassion for people who have lost their lives to it or certainly many years of their lives. You know, what I always think when I do see addicts who live on the streets or who are struggling in their active addictions is that there's always.

always the possibility of change, that every day is a day that you can step toward recovery. And I always sort of send a little prayer to those people. This is maybe a little, is it inappropriate or I don't know. What does heroin feel like? Because if anyone can describe it in words, it's probably you. Well, the unfortunate thing is heroin feels really good. Good physically. There's like an ecstasy kind of feeling.

but I think more powerfully and more importantly, and the thing that I was so struck by the first time I used heroin, is how it took away, at least temporarily, my emotional pain. And I wrote about this in Wild. One of the things, I mean, it was really like one of the biggest surprises of my life to have the feeling that I wasn't any more suffering. I knew my mom was dead, but I wasn't grieving her. when I was high. And of course, this is during a time of my life where every day was hard to live without my mom. I woke up and I was sad, really sad, really in pain. You know, like I said, I'd lost my family. I'd lost my mom. I had lost my marriage. I was married to somebody I loved and I divorced him because I couldn't sustain that bond in the wake of my mom's dad. So there was a lot of sadness in my life. And when I used heroin, it felt like, oh, this is the thing that makes it okay for me. This is the thing that allows me to live. And so it felt like a savior,

which is a terrible thing to say. And you know, you asked about the insights I gained by using. And really that in a huge way, like I just think, wow, you know, the reason that so many people turn to drugs in that I also include alcohol, I drink, but I don't suffer with alcoholism. But, you know, the people who do turn to drugs in ways that we see as destructive, very often they have turned to them out of really a sense of pain, a sense that they're seeking some way to ease their pain. It's tragic when you think about it like that. And when you see, I mean, heroin sounds like a very dark teacher. I assume you also see it that way, right? I mean, it's. Oh, absolutely. And there's no upside to using heroin. I mean, the other thing Jordan I want to say is I'm 51. I was really in the whole kind of like crunch, Nirvana, you know, 90s generation. I was in my 20s in the 90s.

And there was such a sort of rocker chic. I would have never admitted this in my 20s when I used heroin that I did it because I thought it was cool. But now I'm like, oh yeah, of course. You know, there was this incredibly powerful idea, especially, you know, I was in Portland, Oregon. It was like, yeah, the cool people. are using heroin. That's what the cool people

and the scenes that, you know, like sort of some of the circles I moved in, it was very much a very common thing. And you were part of the cool club if you used it. And so that's another aspect of it. You know, there was the suffering on top of just my need to feel accepted

and welcomed by people, I guess I looked up to. That's scary that it can start as like, this is trendy and then it really is almost like a 90s PSA drug commercial and everyone's like, whatever, you're not going to find, that's not a thing that's going to happen. It's like, oh, no, try this. It's cool. Yeah.

Heroin? Like, that should be kind of like outside the whole, hey man, give this a shot. It's cool. Everyone's doing it, right? Yeah, totally. When you started the hike, you couldn't even lift your pack. That's a problem for an 1,100 mile trek, generally. It's really a problem.

It's so much a problem. I couldn't lift it because I made the very common novice backpacker mistake of taking too much stuff. And as you mentioned before, so let's just first get this out of the way. I had never gone backpacking before I went and hiked 1100 miles on the Pacific Reds Trail. Okay. I had hiked a lot. I had grown up in the wilderness. So this was not, it wasn't as if I just, you know, was this like thin sock city girl who had never gone out into the woods. I did grow up in northern Minnesota without electricity or running water or indoor plumbing for a good part of my teenage years. Wow. Yeah. So I had experience.

I knew, I loved the wilderness. And I also had gone on lots of day hikes. I loved to hike. But what I learned when I packed my pack is backpacking is different than day hiking, right? So you have to carry everything. And I could not lift my pack when that first morning of my hike, I had to lift it and get out the door to go to the trail. So how did you just kind of like do some gymnastics and get it to rest on your shoulder? I mean, how did you even manage to get out the door? Well, you know, one of the great things of having a movie made of your book is you actually get to say, yeah, watch the movie. That's how I did it. I basically, you know, I wrestled with my pack. You know, it was really this moment of truth there in that I had checked into a motel in the town of Mahavi, California, the night before I began my hike. And this moment of truth was about like, I got to go. I can't lift this pack, but I have to lift this pack. And, you know, years later, I saw that for the metaphor that it is. I saw that really, the thing I was writing about when I was writing wild is this question of not just how do I hike this trail, how do I, you know, grieve my losses and move forward, but how do we do it? You know, how do we bear what we cannot bear? Of course, that first day in the motel room, when I had to bear what I could not bear, I didn't know the answer to that. I only knew that I had to. It was like an epic kind of paradox. Like, I have to do the thing I cannot do. It's present in not like every fairy tale. tail throughout time, right? Our protagonist must do what is impossible. And what I did is I just got that

dang pack on my back. I wrestled it. I sat on the floor and strapped it around my shoulders and rocked myself forward and threw myself forward under my hands and knees. And then I did a squat. Like, my legs are stronger than the rest of me. So I just squat it up. And I couldn't stand up straight beneath it. But I walked out the door. You know, in wild, I call it, I was hunching in a remotely upright position. But that's the beauty, I think, of any kind of recovery, I guess, is you don't have to be doing it perfect. You don't have to be upright. You don't have to be fast. You just have to get yourself in a remotely upright position and go. It was nice of your backpack to have this built-in metaphor for the book, right? Like, we're bearing the weight we cannot bear. And it's like, no, it's just really

heavy. Well, I mean, that's it. It's like, that's the trick of writing memoir, honestly, is that, you know, so many people kind of misunderstand the form because they think like, oh, you you need is like to have some exciting or terrible thing happened to you and there's your book. That's not true. I mean, we all have exciting and terrible things happen to us, right? What you have to do is try to mine your life for its larger meaning. I wasn't interested in writing a book that was just about my grief or my hike. You know, I really was looking for what is the human story here. That's what memoirs do is they simply use the self to tell the human story. And yeah, once I started, once I realized, okay, yeah, I have something to say here about this journey.

It was so metaphorical that I actually had to sort of tamp it down. I had to be like even, you know, things like later as I'm hiking on the trail, I nickname my backpack monster because it was so big and heavy and it was like my companion. And later when, you know, that was something to just, I wasn't thinking like, it's a metaphor. I'm carrying my own monster on my back. But later when I ran the book, I'm like, wow, it's a monster. And we all, we all have to learn to make friends with our monsters. You can't get away from yourself when you're hiking.

You know, I was a Boy Scout for a long time. I did hikes and like it's kind of like, you know when you're in the shower and you have thoughts and you go, oh, that's a good idea. Or, ooh, I shouldn't have done that. Hey, I wonder if that person's still mad at me. Hiking is like a multi-day shower where you're just thinking and you can be ruminating or you can be having positive thoughts. And you can also, at least maybe I should speak for myself, I can get really sick of my own company. Did you ever get sick of yourself? Oh my gosh, all the time.

That I think is the most challenging thing of long distance hiking, and especially when you do it alone like I did. You know, it's glorious and beautiful and it's all these things, but it's also extremely monotonous. And what happens is your mind needs story. Your mind needs entertainment. So I found myself thinking about everything, literally like everything in my life,

which is in so many ways what made the hike so healing. really, because I had to think through all of the different experiences and relationships, and, you know, they were just there. And the other thing is, I will say, too, I didn't realize when I was writing wild that I was in some ways writing about like the way the world used to be because I took my hike in 1995. And this was before most of us were on the internet. A couple of people were learning what the internet was by then, but most people were not. This was before cell phones. So I was really alone out there. This was also, you know, even music.

I missed music more than anything. I would sing songs to myself in my head. I didn't bring the sort of mobile music available at that time where these things, you know, you must remember a walkman. Oh, yeah. So you had cassette tapes? Oh, my goodness. But I didn't take it with me because, of course, you know, I'm not going to carry a walkman

and batteries and cassette tapes. So, you know, now on the trail, people have their phones and their music and their, I You can listen to audio books. I mean, people do all kinds of things now when they're hiking. I had no technology. There wasn't technology. I was just me and my mind. And I feel lucky, honestly, that I hiked the trail in that era, in that era when we could still be alone. Yeah, that's an interesting point. I know you did run into, like one guy had an early cell phone on the trail. Yeah. I mean, that was the first time I learned about this concept. of a cell phone. One of the men I met, he's one of the Eagle Scouts I wrote about him while. He had been asked to carry, it was like this big plastic block with numbered buttons on the front. And I was like, what's that? He said, it's his thing called a cell phone and they want me to turn it on to see if it'll

work out in the wilderness. I just distinctly remember I was standing with a few other hikers when he told us about it. And I distinctly remember the consensus was this was the most ridiculous idea that we had ever heard of to ask people to actually carry phones around with them. And it was so funny about that is, of course, now, like, we're all just like constantly, if I'm ever like a foot away from my phone, you know, that's kind of surprising, right? We always have our phones on us. But when I first heard of it, it just seemed like such a bad idea. It seemed like nobody would agree to do that. I mean, that was always one of the pleasures of just having a landline is you were either there or you weren't. And if you couldn't be reached, you couldn't be reached. We don't live in that world anymore.

No, I was like, yeah, we do not. I was going to say, I wish you'd been right about like, this product, this is never going to take off. No one is going to want one of these things. And here we are. Totally. I know. I know. Clearly, there's a reason I'm like not in like, you know, venture investing. Yeah, you're a regular technology oracle, Cheryl. Yeah. That's right. That's right. I thought it was a very bad idea. A website with all of our personality profiles on it. Ugh, nobody's going to want that. What would that be like a Facebook? on the internet? Yucky. That's right. I think a lot of people wish you were kind of right about that,

although, yeah, whatever. That's a whole different show, like what tech does for us and what it doesn't. But it does seem a little bit like a wasted opportunity to have Instagram and podcasts and audio books at your beck and call all the time. Although then it's just an exercise in discipline and not just like checking in with your friends and having Zoom calls from the trail, you know, all the time. Yeah, I mean, it's a complicated thing. I mean, people often ask me about this because, of course, when I say, oh, I feel so lucky. that I was really out there alone. And by that too, I mean, you know, the connections to friends. As you say, like, you can connect to people from the trail now. You can FaceTime with them. You can text them. So in that way, you're not really, you're alone, but also not really in that way that I was. Like, I was actually alone. The only way to contact me when I was on the trail was either to walk up to me

and be there in person or to write me a letter at, you know, some post office that I might come to and collect my mail at some unknown date in the future. And that's a professional. And that's a profound experience to really be alone, to really be disconnected from anyone you know or love or can depend on. And I treasure that experience. And yet, like, I totally get it. Like, when I hike now, yeah, I have my cell phone on my back pocket. Like, I understand why people don't disconnect. It's so hard to do. And I am not anti-self phone or internet. I do think that it's powerfully connected us in ways that are really important. And yet, it's complicated, isn't it? Like, How do we go back in time and find that kind of solitude again?

I think it's a loss if we don't. You're listening to the Jordan Harbinger Show with our guest, Cheryl Strayed. We'll be right back. And now back to Cheryl Strad on the Jordan Harbinger Show. What was the longest stretch that you went without seeing anyone? You know, you had to have some of those, right? Yeah, and right off the bat. I mean, that was the hardest thing.

The first eight days of my hike, I did not see another soul, which was astonishing to me. I mean, I think most people don't go eight days without ever seeing anyone, you know. No. I mean, obviously, so many of the people during the pandemic are hold up in their houses and maybe not seeing others, you know, in person, but we're still connected. So when I say eight days not seeing another person, also just not communicating with anyone in any way. It was really deep. And it was very common, too, after that, to go three, four, five days without seeing people. I was so surprised by how remote the trail was.

I knew it would be solitary, but I didn't know it would be so solitary. I mean, no electronics, no phones, no iPods, no drugs, no booze, no escape from your escape that you're trying to make there. And I mean, I get scared of going into my childhood home's basement and you left civilization entirely, which is... I love it. I love it. That makes me happy. Yeah, yeah. I have to say even, like, I know.

I'm glad I did it. And even I, like when I now hike alone sometimes, you know, like I still sometimes I'll be like get a little creeped out feeling like I remember how fiercely I had to tell myself back then that I wasn't afraid. That was my mantra. I am not afraid. I am not afraid. I am not afraid. And of course, I said it because I was and I was having to tell myself that I had to be brave and strong in order to do this thing that I really wanted to do. And of course, that lesson has paid off. a lot over time. It's something I've drawn on again and again. When were you most afraid? You had to be, because there's animals and stuff, or did you just get used to it? Yeah. Well, you know, first of all, I want to say, it's funny. Our idea about what is dangerous is really off-kilter. Like, one of the

questions I get so often is about this idea of like, weren't you afraid? Weren't you afraid? And it's like, well, you know, statistically, it was so much more dangerous for me to stay in civilization in the city that summer than it would have been, you know. And obviously, drugs like, you know, that's dangerous. I was doing dangerous stuff. But even things like you're much, much, much more likely to die in a car accident than you are hiking on a trail in the wilderness. But because we do that so much, we normalized it. So yes, having said that, I was afraid of snakes. I was afraid of bears. And I was afraid of cougars, otherwise known as mountain lions. And, you know, those are real things. And I encountered bears and snakes several times. I,

probably encountered mountain lions, but I didn't see them. I'm quite sure they saw me. You know, I was walking through Cougar country for sure. You know, I was also afraid of men. Yeah, that's a good point, right? Because Cougar might go, ah, she's too big, but a drunk, you know, guys might not make that same calculation. Yeah. I mean, the human animal, who's the most dangerous one to women is the human male. And I was first leery, you know, when I first started, most of the people I met on the trail were men. And I pretty quickly saw that like one of the coolest things about long distance hiking is, you know, you tend to meet really good people out there on the trail. It's an endeavor that draws people, I think, who have like good reasons to be out there. And even though we might

have all kinds of differences, we're both doing the same thing. It's difficult. It's beautiful. It's magnificent. It's all of those things. And we shared that bond. And so I really, you know, very quickly realized that like I was meeting amazing men out there. And I didn't feel threatened by them. I did finally well into my hike. Once I had sort of grown quite at ease about being on the trail, I did meet two hunters in Oregon. And that was a really scary experience because it was the first time that I met people who were menacing to me, and I really honestly thought I was going to be sexually assaulted. I wasn't, but I felt like I came really close, and I was scared enough that is finally when they left, I packed up my things, and even though it was night, I ran. I didn't dare stay camped where I was camped

because I was afraid. Yeah, that's terrifying, especially with, there's just nothing around, right? Oh, gosh. No. And, you know, that's, it's such a difficult experience because, of course, I felt so empowered by the trail and really in so many ways kind of revising a story that women are told about like, don't go alone. You know, you need a man to protect you. And I got into this place where I just felt so strong and like I could protect myself. And what those men did in sort of being menacing to me and talking to me about my body and saying things to me that made me feel really afraid and uncomfortable. well, is that they sort of reminded me that they had that kind of power. And really that the fact that I wasn't

sexually assaulted, I feel like it was luck. It's a sad reality for women travelers around the world, whether you, you know, are on a hiking trail or elsewhere. And so, you know, it was in some ways, I was humbled by it and it was a corrective to a kind of confidence that I had out there. And yet it didn't in any way take away that sense of agency that I had. when it comes to making that hike happen for me. Did you ever come close to running out of, like, food or water? Is that not really a concern? Oh, yeah.

Yeah. No, it's a big concern, especially running out of water. Yeah, that'll really kill you. Yeah. And quickly. Food is miserable to run out of because you're like, okay. And that was always it because you carry food and you carry food for a number of days. You calculate that.

I'll be at my next stop in nine days. So I need nine dinners and nine. breakfast, you know, that kind of thing. So if something happens that slows you down, you can run out of food in that way. Water is the bigger deal because also here again, now when you hike along trail, there's all this information that you can access online like, oh, that creek is dry, or this source is available or not available. So for me, back in 95, it was just kind of word on the trail. And I was walking across this very hot section of the trail in northern California called the Hat Creek Rim. And I was told there's this kind of big tank kind of midway through that these ranchers

have for their cattle. And it was a water source. It's a water source for hikers. And I knew that I could only carry a certain amount of water to get to that tank. And I was told there was water in that tank. And I got there and the tank was empty. And I had no water. And it was like a hundred and some degrees. It was incredibly hot. Really, that's the most dangerous day, I think I had on the trail. Because I was miles from the next water. And so I had to walk as quickly as I could through the heat without any water. And I knew that I was, you know, putting myself at risk, but there was nothing I could do. So I finally came upon this really muddy, awful, dingy pond.

And I pumped water from it. It was brown. It was like brown water drinking mud water. But I was so grateful for it. It was like hot as tea, you know, that kind of water. the summertime. It was miserable, but it was water and it saved me. That's really gross, but I can totally, it probably also was almost like the worst yet best water you've ever tasted in your life in some way. Yeah. And I pumped it, you know, I had a water pump. I also had iodine

pills and I both pumped the water and to put iodine pills into like double treat it, but it was still like really wretched brown water that then tasted like iodine. Yeah, better than dying, No, definitely better than dying. Yeah. There are a few things in the book that are like, well, better than die. I mean, there's a lot of lost toenails. And I think for anyone who's never had a toenail, sort of coming loose that you then have to pull off, I don't necessarily wish that on anyone, but it's quite the experience, especially when you put your dirty, wet, sweaty socks back on and you just keep walking. Yeah. Have you ever lost a toenail, George? Oh, yeah. Yeah. Yeah. It's gross. It hurts. Especially during a hike. And it's like loose. And you just go, I can't have a loose toenail. So you either tape it on as tight as you can, but sometimes that just makes it worse and it's just like squishing around. So there's that moment where you just sort of like grit your teeth and just grab a hold of it and then like grab a hold of, I don't know, like another object to squeeze on and you just pull it off. And it's like the grossest squishy sound and then you flick it into the woods and you just like put a Band-Aid on it if you have one and keep on marching. It's so gross.

I lost like six toenails over the course of my hike. but I lost both of my big toenails. Ooh. Really the most painful part was like before I realized like, okay, I have to like rip them off because my toes swelled up. So it's basically my toenails popped off because those big toes swelled so big that it like forced the nail off. It sounds so gross. But it was so painful. And the nail was still like pressing down on the swelling.

Once I pulled it off, as much as it hurt like you said, it hurts to pull it off. there was at least some relief because it was like, you know, it wasn't impinging my swelling anymore. Right. Yeah. We're really getting into it here. We're really selling the hiking idea.

We are. We are. Yeah. And basically what happened is it was like because the PCT, like lots of trails, it's a lot of up and down. Like you're walking through the mountains. And my toe,

when I would descend, it would be like that my toes would just slide forward in my boots, no matter how I tied my shoes, no matter what I did. And those toenails would just be battered, and destroyed. Hiking has a lot more ups and downs. I think we're just sort of focusing on some of those. Maybe we can switch to like some of the better because right now everyone's like, why would anyone ever do this? You've said that life's hardest moments are what make us who we are. And I definitely

agree with this. I'd love to hear why you say this because, well, it's true, but it's also one of those semi-cl cliches that usually when people say this, they never explain why. So someone going through a hard time often can't really get comfort in that, especially if they're like me and they want to know why, why, why, why, why? It's like, oh, life's hardest moments. And they're like, yeah, but that's right now for me. And I don't feel like I'm growing, you know? Yeah. I mean, I think really we are required to trust the fact that very often we can't feel in the moment what will be in the end the truest thing. When we are going through a hard time, whether it be a hard time emotionally or a heart thing physically slogging up that hill or running that marathon or any of those things, what you're thinking is I want out of this. Why

I do this. I wish this weren't happening to me. This is hard. It's not fun. You know, that's what it feels like right in the moment. What it almost always feels like afterwards is, wow, I did that. I'm stronger than I was before. This taught me something that is going to be powerfully important to me for the rest of my life. Or as much as I wish that hadn't happened, look at the changes that I've made, the things I can see now and know now that I couldn't have and wouldn't have known before. You know, I think of hiking often as retrospective fun. I think running is this way, too. Like, very often, as we're doing those activities, we're not like,

yaha, this is the best thing. You know, sometimes we are, but sometimes we're like, ah, cannot wait to get to the trailhead or the mountaintop or whatever it is. But we're always glad we do it. I call it retrospective fun. You look back and go, that was a blast. And I think that, you know, with our emotional struggles, it's a little different. It's not, we don't look back and go, that was kind of fun to actually have to get divorced

or lose somebody I love or break up or whatever that is. But very often, almost always, we look back and say, it was worth it. I do not regret it. I am stronger and better for it. And so, you know, I think we just have to trust that. I try to trust that in my own life. And even if you can't get all the way there, like I think it is incredibly hard. You know, like I said, my mom died at 45.

It's incredibly hard for me to spin that into a good story. I think that it's really awful that my mom died when she was 45. And yet, what I can say is the gifts I received because of the love I have for her and the things I learned about what it means to love someone after they're gone are really important and powerful. And they are the things that in so many ways have made me who I am. And two things can be true. it once. You can look back at something and say, I wish it hadn't been that way. You can also say, but because it is, I'm better for it. You had an interesting experience with your mom before she passed, which no one has, actually. You went to college together, and I think that's, how did that happen? That's so unusual. I don't know anyone else that's had this experience. Yeah, very few people would sign up for this experience, Jordan. I really, it's not a popular choice to bring your mom to college. So here's what happened. I grew up in rural northern Minnesota, 20 miles from a tiny town called McGregor, Minnesota, in rural Aiken County. And I wasn't in this orbit of like college educated people or,

you know, nobody was saying to me, where do you want to go to college or taking me on college tours? I didn't know anything about how to apply for college. And nobody around me did either. I started to receive brochures in the mail as you used to get, you know, when you were junior and senior. And it was my understanding that I would just sort of study those brochures and pick a college based on that. I didn't know I was supposed to apply to more than one college. I applied to one. It's the University of St. Thomas, which is this Catholic private college in St. Paul, Minnesota. And I applied there. And when I got the acceptance letter, thank goodness they accepted me. In the letter to sort of try to persuade me to go there, they said, one of the benefits of being a student here is your parents can attend

college for free. So what they were thinking is they were thinking like somebody's mom or dad would take like French 101. Right. You know, like there would be some little thing like that. And my mom was at the time 40 and I read this letter to her and she said, I have always wanted to go to college, which I knew was true. And I knew that that my mom had not gone to college really because she was my mom. My mom got pregnant when she was 19. She married my dad because of that. She had three little kids by the time she was 25, 26, had really had to sacrifice so much to raise us. And my first thought was like, okay, you are absolutely not going to college with me. Like, forget it. But what happened is, I knew even in the height of my kind of youthful arrogance, my teenage, you know, like, I got to get

away from this woman, is that I didn't want to stand it. It was a wonderful opportunity. And I didn't want to stand in the way of it, you know, that my mom deserved to go to college. Yeah. You know, even though we both were like, well, she's probably not smart enough. She'll probably flunk her classes. Like she was like, it wasn't like we were like, yeah, my mom is so smart, you know, she should go to college. So we decided that she could go. I would go live on campus in the dorms.

She would commute. It's three hours away from the house where I grew up. We had one rule, and that was she couldn't speak to me or acknowledge me if she saw me on campus, she was not to address me because I was just like, mom, back off. And she was like, okay. And now, of course, I laugh about that. But, you know, I was 17. I went to college when I was 17. And I was doing what I needed to do. I needed to separate from my mom. And what, of course, what happened is she went. And she was just like, wow, my world opened up, her world opened up. She got straight A. She was like, you know, all her professors loved her.

She thrived. So, yeah, when she died, you know, I just went to St. Thomas that first year, I was paying for my own college, and I realized, oh, private tuition was way too expensive. So I transferred to the University of Minnesota. And so did she. She went to Duluth, which was closer to our house, and I went to Minneapolis. We were about to graduate. She actually died over the spring break of our senior year of college. Oh, man.

She was two classes shy of her degree. She died, and the college granted her degree posthumously. That's amazing. I mean, it just seems so close, right? So close to that. Yeah. It was such a heartbreak. It was such an unbelievable heartbreak.

You always asked really inappropriate questions as a kid. Is that right? That's right. So I love that. I'm sure you do. Yeah. I mean, that's kind of like what I wish my job was to ask like just the most ridiculous. But I have to ease into it because I'm a grown man here.

So there's an element there that I can't get away. Like I can't be like, when did you lose your virginity? Oh, sorry. How do you spell your last name? Like I can't really get away with that, you know? I always ask. people about their virginity. Really? They don't always appreciate it. Yeah. That's funny. Why that specifically? That's the thing. Like, I've always been most interested in people's personal, private, emotional lives.

And I've always wanted to know, like, what's really happened in people's lives. Like, I'm not interested in the kind of veneer or the face they show the world. I've always interested in, like, well, what do you really think or feel or why did you do this and when? And I think that asks, people about when they lost their virginity is a really pretty deep question because almost always, like if you really, you know, go beyond the kind of like I was 17 and it was in, you know, blah-b-de-blah, if you go beyond, if you ask for the story behind that, you almost always hear something really interesting about a life. And I think it's interesting and sad that we, you know, obviously we have to function in the world. We can't all go around constantly telling our darkest

secrets. And yet, that's, to me, what really ultimately connects us to each other, that when we really see the person behind that facade is when we actually find that we are connected to them, that we have things in common with them, you know, that we're curious about another life. And so, yeah, I've always wanted to go there since I was just a child. Yeah. The most popular episodes of this particular podcast are what we call Feedback Friday, where we give advice to listeners that write in about anything from, I'm new at work and I want to raise or other people are like, my parents are both cheating on each other. Like, what do I do? You know, we have all kinds of crazy stuff like that. I know you were Dear Sugar for years and

years. Yeah. What are your rules when you give advice to people? Do you have any kind of things that you're keeping in mind or particular guidelines for yourself? Yeah. You know, I'm not writing a column or I don't have the podcast active right now, but I think I'll be Sugar forever. Deer Sugar is just took the job on. It was an unpaid job, so to call it a job as a stretch. I started writing the column for the Rumpus website, and I thought it would just be a kind of lark. Like, oh my gosh, you know, all my life I've wanted to know people's secrets. And finally, I get them in this forum as this advice columnist, but it pretty quickly became really, I think, a very serious endeavor for me. And I think the writing, I collected the columns in my book, Tiny Beautiful

Things. And I think it's really some of the most powerful and important work I've ever done. And it was because, of course, I was trying to give people advice, the person who wrote to me. But again, like, I was trying to kind of mind that struggle or that conundrum and illuminate, like, what is it? Who are we? What does it mean to be human? You know, I always wanted to kind of delve beneath the questions that were asked. So your question, what do I think about when I give advice? You know, I think that advice has been misunderstood in a lot of ways like they think, like, you know, I seek your opinion. And very often the, like, worst advice comes from somebody, who's rooted only in their own story.

Who's like, here's what I think everyone should be like. And what I try to do when I give advice is to really listen very hard to what the person is saying to me about themselves. Very often, if you listen hard, what you can see is the person knows what they want. They know what they need to do. They just need somebody to tell them it's okay to do it. Yeah, a lot of it is permission. I've made that mistake a lot.

People say, do you have any tips on me starting a close? clothing business. And I'm like, well, you know, if I were you, I would go work for a clothing business and get used to supply chain because that's always the biggest problem. And don't worry about the design stuff yet. You know, you can worry about that later. That's just the fun part. You need to get experience at all levels of the business. And they're like, this sucks. This advice sucks. What they want is for me to say, you know what? Go for it. Give it a shot. And if you fail, it doesn't matter. You're young. This is going to be a great experience for you. That's what they really want to hear. And I'm just like in dad mode telling them how to set up their LLC or whatever.

you know, like on their supply chain. And they're just like, you're a dork, Jordan. You know, I don't want to hear this. Yeah, no, I think that's really true. And also think about this, like, you wouldn't have wanted to do everything right from the beginning. No, I think I still don't. You learn from your mistakes. I mean, people often ask me like, well, knowing what you know now, would you have, like, packed less in your backpack?

And I'm always like, no. You know, of course my advice to backpackers would be like, pack light because it's hard to carry a heavy pack. And yet, I myself would not want to go back in time and carry a light. pack because we never forget the lessons we learn the hard way. And so that is a complicated thing. Like there's no one path to the mountaintop. You know, the way to do it right is to do some things wrong. Most of us, this goes back to that question. You asked me about like the hard things. It's like, yeah, most of us actually found the best things in our lives after having failed a bit, made some mistakes or done some regrettable things. This is the Jordan Harbinger show with our guest

Cheryl Strayed. We'll be right back. Thanks for listening and supporting the show. Your support of our advertisers keeps us going. To learn more and get links to all the great discounts you've just heard so you can support the show, visit jordanharbinger.com slash deals. And don't forget, we've got worksheets for today's episode. That link is in the show notes at jordanharbinger.com slash podcast. And now for the conclusion of our episode with Cheryl Strayed. There's something called Solomon's Paradox. I think that's what it's called. And it's we give better advice to others than we would ever give to ourselves, right? Oh, for sure. Because when we talk to ourselves, I think this is why we do it anyway. When we talk to

ourselves, we weigh everything. We're like taking into consideration our emotions and how we feel in the moment and like all these factors that may or may not have anything to do with anything. But with others, we never have enough information, right? So we focus on what we can see, which is often the more obvious factors and there's no emotion in it because I don't care if your business, like I don't want your business to fail, but I don't really, I'm not going to cry and be broke and have to call my mom and admit I was wrong. If your business fails, that's you. You have to do that. that. Yeah. But that can make advice better as long as it's tactical. Like when I was a lawyer, I was giving advice that theoretically I was technically qualified to give. I was obviously

supervised in the beginning, but it's hard to give advice that you yourself would follow. I find that it is anyway. I don't know about you. Yeah. And I think, too, for me, the nuance about that is that also when I'm giving advice, I'm speaking to kind of like the best version of myself and the best version I think the other person can be. Like if somebody asks me writing advice, I say things like, you just have to, you know, trust the process and you have to keep going even when it's hard, and you have to believe in yourself. And like, you know, I say all of those things. Well, every day, every day, I myself have to struggle with those very things. It's not like I have landed on some kind of like island where it's like, I'm just always floating past in my little sort of best self,

you know, raft. And so advice is about. aspiration in a lot of ways. And of course, the advice givers, I think, are almost always the best advice givers when they themselves are also wrestling with those questions. And it's nothing, nothing is really static. I mean, obviously, legal advice is a different kind of thing. Sure. Like, you should do this or something. But I think that kind of nitty or grittier advice you're talking about, like, you know, today is my 21st wedding anniversary, by the way. Oh, happy anniversary to me. And, you know, people are like, well, how do you stay married 21 years. And it's like, well, you know, there's a whole bunch of different ways and you could do them all and then your marriage could fail. I mean, like, it's just like if there's no one prescription, it's always an active effort, I think luck plays a role too, you know. I don't want to attribute everything to luck. But, you know, I think sometimes you just, you know, you started the business at the wrong time or you signed the wrong contract or you, you know, married somebody who then changed their mind 15 years down the road. And you couldn't have possibly seen that. You have to trust, I think. You

that advice is always as good as like what you can possibly manage to do and follow and believe that day. Writing forces you to confront demons, you said. And I wonder, we all have these sort of like negative voices inside our head that drag us down. And it sounds like when you move to write the novel initially, you had to fight off those demons. You mentioned a lot of like, well, we had cable TV and I've set my sights really high and I wanted to be the best. And it's like, then you just kind of wanted to watch cable TV all day. Like, what's going on here? How do you win that battle? I still want to watch cable TV all day, Jordan. I know. I just want to Netflix and watch Indian matchmaking. Oh, my gosh. I haven't watched it. Oh, it's pretty juicy. Is it? It's a strange foreign world.

My friend was on the show, Serini Rao, and the mother of the girl that he did, it called him Serenie the loser because he likes surfing and writing and he's creative and the daughter was a lawyer. And she's like, oh, this guy's such a loser. Oh, my gosh. Tough crowd. It's a tough crowd. Yeah. The matchmaker's like, have to be realistic about what kind of men your daughter can get. And it's like, ooh, yeah, ouch. Well, also, like, I love this equation that, like, anyone who's, you know, an artist is somehow automatically a loser because they're not making money. It's like, okay, well, I'm sorry. That whole, like, doctor, lawyer narrative that, like, those are the only people who have achieved anything. It's just really sad. It is sad. I figured you'd have something to say about that.

Yeah. I mean, that's the thing. It's, I do think that the demons and the battle between, like, doing the work we want to do and messing around and watching cable TV and doing, you know, whatever. I think that that's, for me, I've learned that it's just honestly part of my process, that writing is hard. The writing is actually making something out of nothing. Nothing existed and then you put words on the computer screen and a story is made or a poem is made or a song or whatever it is. So it's heavy lifting. It's hard labor. And you also have to sort of trust that what you have to offer is going to map. And what I found is that every day I doubt that process, every day I feel a sense of resistance to it. And it's easier to watch TV. And so I just have to say like, oh, Cheryl, this feeling of resistance, this feeling is going, oh, let's go do something else. And not just watch TV, you know,

mop the floor or call a friend or whatever it is you do to distract yourself from the work you know you're here to do. If I can just say, look it in the face and say, I see you, welcome to the table, you're part of my creative process, the voice of doom. I call it my it's, my inner terrible someone, actually. I say, here you are. I knew you'd show up. You'd show up every day that I try to do my work, but I'm not going to let you tell me not to do my work. And that's my way around it. And it takes an enormous amount of will. But what I find is when I do that, like when I can overcome that sort of voice of doom and distraction, I break through and then I look up and I'm like, wow, I just wrote for an hour and that felt great. And that's a better feeling than letting those doubts rule the day.

And then you can always watch TV later. Yes, that's a good point. The TV, especially now that everything's on demand, you really don't have an excuse to like pause right now and do it, right? Yeah. I think it's funny that you've been on these crazy journeys, 1100 miles toenails, six toenails falling off. And one of the hardest journeys was in your living room trying to write and battling off reruns of Seinfeld or whatever the hell was on cable at that time. It still is. You know, think that's it. It's like, you know, and maybe in some ways hiking the trail was really helpful for me in that, you know, realizing like there's no way around the fact that the only way to hike a long trail or run a marathon or any of those things like that, any of those endeavors is to put one foot in front of the other

and keep going, just to keep going, one foot in front of the other. And that is how it ends up. You make a life as a creative person, certainly. As a writer, it's one sentence and then the next one. and the one after that, and pretty soon you have something. And it has some residents also just really with life. I have two kids. I have a long marriage. I have, you know, my life. And sometimes it's easy and sometimes it's not. And you have to continue forward. What happens if you set your sights really high? You want to be the best at something and you fail. You only have yourself to blame. Like, how do we deal with that? Because I feel like that, I guess that's a retrospective perspective. You have to look back and see that. But I feel that way with this show sometimes, right? I'm like,

I'm never doing enough, but sometimes I do just want to sit down and watch TV or like go outside and listen to a podcast and not work. But then the other part of me, there's like a constant nagging that I'm not doing enough to get where I want to be. I don't know. Yeah, I think it's such this idea of the way we wrestle with our own ambition and success is a powerful one. And it's a question I had to answer for myself pretty early on when I was writing my first novel. When people ask me like, well, what were your ambitions? What did you want to be? I always would say, I want to be a great American writer. Women aren't congratulated for being ambitious like that. But I was, you know, I didn't care. I always said, you know what, I want to go to the top. I want to be great. I really. want to make people feel and think big things with my work. So I set that bar really high. I studied the writers who did that to me. I wanted to be like them. And when I was writing my first book, it was when I really realized, like, I was really struggling with that. And part of the struggle was I honestly confronted the fact that I had no control over that, like that it wasn't up to me to say whether it was great or not. I couldn't possibly achieve greatness. All I could do was achieve, I could do the best thing that I could possibly do. I could write the best book I could

possibly write. And whether that was going to be great or not had nothing to do with me. And I also have to make a choice, you know, and it was essentially between two things. It was, do you want to be a person who finished this book that nobody liked, that nobody published that sits in your drawer for the rest of your life? Or do you want to be the person who never finished the novel she said she was going to write, who always said, yeah, I'm still working on it. And as painful as that first thing is to write a novel that nobody likes and sits in a drawer all the rest of my life, I would so much rather be the person who did the work she said she was going to do than the person who didn't because she was afraid and insecure and didn't want to have to face the idea of failure.

And so that's how I succeeded. I really wrapped my arms around this idea. I call it surrendering to my own mediocrity. I said, you know what? Maybe I'm a mediocre writer. Maybe I am. I'm going to be her full throttle. I'm going to write this book and whatever people think of it is not up to me. And that really helped me so much. Jordan, years down the road. So first of all, that first novel, Torch, was published and people liked it. It wasn't a bestseller, but it was a very solid showing for a first book and I was proud of it. But then when Wilde came along and was an international hit and a bestseller and all the stuff that happened to it, I felt I was so better prepared psychologically for that success because I had already divorced myself from fame

and money and that stuff being my definition of success. My definition of success was genuinely and truly and really honestly about the work. Had I done the best I could do in writing wild, yes, that was the success. How do you avoid getting trapped by other people's approval? Like, yes, you can divorce yourself from success, but then also Oprah's like, I love your book so much. I'm going to use it to relaunch my book club. How are you not like, okay, I'm pretty awesome? Or is that part okay? I mean, how do you know when to separate yourself from results and when to be like, I've earned this and it's amazing? Well, I think that it's a fine point. It's hard to describe it. What I think is that the slight shift is that, of course, I was absolutely like blown away and thrilled about that

and so proud of myself and so excited. But it wasn't the thing that defined me. You know, I would have felt that Wild was a success, even if it had not been a bestseller. You know, I would have felt successful as a writer because I had done that work. You know, once you can really accept that kind of thing, then all the fantastic stuff that happened, like, I just felt like it was like champagne on top of, you know, birthday cake or something. You know what I mean? Like, it was like, oh my gosh, Oprah and a movie and, you know, all that stuff. I delighted in it and I felt grateful for it and astonished by it. and all those things. And, you know, of course, the success, it changed my life in a lot of ways, but not in essential ways. Like, it didn't change who I was or how I thought about myself or how

I thought about other people or how I did my work. What it changed is the fame thing, people knowing my name and financial security. For the first time of my life, I really could pay my bills. And that's, of course, a big change. But it wasn't, it's not essential to who I am. I guess praise then can't be the reason that we do our work. It just can't. And yeah, I mean, here's the thing. Of course, you know, I love to be praised. Like, we all do. Who doesn't, right? And when I'm criticized, it hurts. I mean, I think that's been the funny thing as people sometimes forget, like, there's a human being in here. People, when people talk about writers, they'll very often, they'll, like, tweet at me, like, that they didn't like my book. And I'll be like, well, thanks,

you know. I mean, yeah, praise feels great. Criticism hurts. Onward we go. But yeah, it can't be the thing that defines you. I know you used to be an EMT. Does that ever show up in your writing? That seems like, I mean, you're very close to other people's pain in that career. Yeah, nobody's ever asked me about that. Yeah, I was an EMT for a short time. Yeah, I don't think it's shown up in my writing.

I think that it was, I've always been somebody who wants to help people. I do think it's kind of interesting, like not that EMTs are necessarily like the final healers. But you know that you're there to help. You're there to rescue people. And I think that in some ways there again, there's that metaphor. Like I was drawn to that because of that impulse. And I love that about my work as Dear Sugar, that it's like my lifelong kind of desire to actually be of service in a helpful way to others is married to my lifelong calling to be a writer. And so like Dear Sugar is like literary EMT. Yeah, literary EMT. Well, that's a great way to place

it. I think in our feedback Friday inbox, there are some questions where me and my team, we just go like, oh my gosh, this person is trusting us with that. We cannot screw this up. We better make sure we know what we're talking about. Yeah. And ask all these expert lawyers and doctors and people what they think. Because sometimes we're the only people that the writer can trust with the answer. And we know that they are, if they're going to follow anyone's advice, it's this.

So we can't just be like, screw them, cut them out of your life. Or like quit that job. You know, we have to be extra responsible. It's what I imagine being a parent is like, I have a one-year-old, but it's what I imagine being a parent is like when you have a young adult and they're asking you things and you're like, ooh, I better not just sort of fire this answer off and then get back to work. I need to think about this. Yeah, well, my kids are 14 and 16 and Jordan, what I want to tell you as a father to a one year old is, is it a boy or a girl? It's a boy. Okay. Give him all your advice like ASAP because by the time they're teenagers,

they're not going to want your advice. They're not going to ask you. They're not going to want your opinion. They'll just be like, yeah, whatever. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. I know. I know. Yeah. So do it early. That's what I was like, and I know he's a lot like me. Like my wife goes, see this crying storm that he's doing right now? This is you. And I'm like, what? I didn't do anything. She's like, no, no, no. This is just the baby version of you. You know, like, I'm putting together IKEA furniture and I'm like kicking it. I'm like, this stupid thing. You know, like, I hate this. Where's the Allen? Oh, there it is. Like, where's the Allen wrench? There it is. It's just like, I've passed this down genetically. And it's, she's like, you have to figure out how to deal with this.

Like, I already have one of you. So, yeah, you're right. I better tell him everything I can before he can understand it. Now's the time. Yeah. Put it in his brain. It's kind of like when women like listen to classical music when they're pregnant. Right. Yes.

We're reading to him and he's like crawling around throwing pillows. I'm like, is this doing anything? And my wife's like, I don't know, everyone else is doing it. I think so. Just do it. Just do it. Just trust it. Cheryl, thank you so much.

This has been really, really fun. And I'm glad we finally got to do this. Me too. Jordan. It's really fun to talk to you. I think you're wonderful. And thank you so much for having me on your great show. Yeah, my pleasure. I'm really, really happy we were able to make it happen. And it's amazing. You've created so many things and you've lived all these. It almost seems like more than one life, right? Like rarely do hear

about somebody who's just gone through so many different iterations of themselves, I guess? I don't know. Or is that just everyone's like that and we just know more about you because you wrote about it? I don't know now. I think it's a combination of a lot of things. But yeah, we all have so many stories to tell. and I feel so privileged that as a writer, I get the opportunity to tell them. But I think most of our lives have many stories, and we contain multitudes, as a famous poet said. Well, have a great week,

and we'll let you know when this comes out and gets edited and everything like that. Thank you. Bye, Jordan. Have a great day. Yeah. I appreciate us. Bye-bye. Bye-bye.

A lot of folks, maybe even you, have asked me what my favorite episodes are of this show. And although it's impossible to pick a single favorite, I'm going to throw some trailers at the end of the episodes. And today, we have episode number 211 with Arthur Brooks. How loving your enemies can save America. Here we go. Anytime you catch yourself comparing yourself to others, you have to stop and say,

that's what I'm doing. Don't do that. Oh, God. Easier said than done. Yeah, I know. But although you've, once you know that, the knowledge is power. I was just at a bachelor party and some of my friends were like, oh, man, some of our friends, they just became like high school teachers.

And I was like, well, let me stop you right there. You know how happy those people are? They figured out what they. they wanted to do when they were like 24. They got married to somebody they'd been dating for a while. They had kids well before age 30. They're satisfied with what they're doing in a lot of ways. They have way more free time than you and I.

We cannot sit back and judge. We're wired in a way that we're always dissatisfied. They're wired in a way where that is fine. I'm jealous of that on many levels. One in six Americans have actually stopped talking to a family member because of the election. That's pretty scary. It's almost one in five now. Yeah.

Politics has become super, you know, hyper attenuated in our, in our country. culture where it's taken on this outsized role and importance to assume ad hominem. This is what you were saying. It's like Jordan made this joke on Instagram. So therefore, I know it's residing in the depths of his heart. I bet you he bears animus towards some racial groups of wildly. But that's exactly what we're talking about, motive attribution asymmetry on the basis of ad hominum. Don't be that guy.

93% of us wish the country were more united. You're part of the problem when you do this. that. So I got a win, win, win proposition for our listeners and viewers today. Number one is I'm going to make you more persuasive. I'm going to make you happier. And I'm going to start a social movement in your heart in a tiny little way to bring our country together. And that's answering hatred with love as much as you possibly can. For a great discussion and how we can bridge the divide in our relationships, our country, and even within our families, check out episode 211 with Arthur Brooks here on the Jordan Harbinger Show.

That 1,100 mile hike was really something else. You know, I'm outside in my dad jeans, my shoes, my son had. I'm on mile seven or eight, and I think to myself, Cheryl Strait walked 1100 miles and probably never dipped back into the house to grab a glass of ice tea or stand in front of the AC vent. She's known for great advice and giving great advice. Her persona, sugar, is just on the Mount Rushmore of giving advice if there is one. Who else would be up there?

Dr. Drew, maybe. Let me know what you think. Tweet at me, shoot me a note on Instagram, whatever you guys want to do. to reach out. I'm curious. Don't let your dreams ruin your life. That's a quote here from Cheryl. I think it could be taken the wrong way, but what she means, again, this could be taken the wrong way, is lower your goals so you can reach them when you need them. A lot of people have these really big dreams and there's nothing wrong with that, but a lot of times they're unattainable and it just makes you feel bad. Sheryl also said part of the wait for her pack. She brought a lot of books with her

to read as a reward for hiking, plus she loved reading, and she would tear the pages out as she went and burn them. You know, can you always use a little kindling, and also she didn't have to carry the book anymore. As promised, some writing prompts. Now, Cheryl mentioned, take out your keychain. Tell me the story behind every key. There's always a story behind every key. Writing is an exercise of finding your wounds. Where are my wounds? Another writing prompt she gave is write a woe is me narrative. Write down all your problems, why everyone should feel bad for you, how your life is so bad. It's not necessarily just rolling around in the month, but it can get you thinking. And last but not least, who or what is your darkest teacher?

For Cheryl, as we discussed on the show, that was heroin, most likely. But who or what is your darkest teacher? Those are great writing prompts. I myself don't write nearly enough. I tend to do a lot more reading, as you might imagine, from this show, but I love stuff like this. We should have Cheryl back some time to do an episode of Feedback Friday. Speaking of advice, we'll tackle some really tough questions that come in. I think that would be fun.

Let me know what you think of that. Big thank you to Cheryl Strait. Her books are all going to be linked in the show notes. Please use our website links if you buy these books. They do help support the show. Worksheets for the episode in the show notes. The writing prompts will be in there. Transcripts for the episode also in the show notes.

I'm at Jordan Harbinger on Twitter, Instagram. Hit me on LinkedIn. I'm teaching you how to connect with great people just like Cheryl. Manage your relationships using systems and tiny habits over at our six-minute networking course, which is free. That's over at Jordan Harbinger.com slash course. Dig that well before you get thirsty. Most of the guests on the show, they subscribe to the course, they're in the course, they're

helping out with the course, they're contributing to the course. That's at Jordan Harbinger.com slash course. This show is created in association with Podcast 1 and, of course, the amazing team that includes Jen Harbinger, J. Sanderson, Robert Fogart, Ian Baird, Millio Campo, Josh Ballard, and Gabriel Mizrahi. Remember, we rise by lifting others. The fee for this show is that you share it with friends when you find something useful or interesting. If you know somebody who's interested in writing, creativity, hell, hiking,

share this episode with him. Hopefully you find something great in every episode, so please do share the show with those you care about. In the meantime, do your best to apply what you hear on the show so you can live what you listen. And we'll see you next time. This episode is sponsored in part by Something You Should Know podcast. Finding a new great podcast shouldn't be this hard, so let me save you some time. If you like the Jordan Harbinger show, you'll probably like Something You Should Know with Mike Carruthers. It's one of those shows that makes you smart. in a practical, useful way. Same curiosity vibe we go for here,

just in a fast-focused format. Mike brings on top experts and asks the exact questions that you'd want to ask, and the topics are all over the place in the best way. Recently, they've covered things like why we care so much what other people think, the benefits of laughter, why sports fans get so invested,

and what makes people like you or not. The through line is always the same. Smart ideas you can actually use in real life. Something you should know has been featured in Apple's shows we love, and it's got thousands of five-star reviews, because it's consistently interesting. So if you want another show that scratches that I want to understand how people in the world

really work, itch, search for something you should know wherever you get your podcasts. Look for the bright yellow light bulb and start listening. You can thank me later.