The Lazy Genius Podcast - #169 - Audiobook Sneak Peek

Episode Date: August 3, 2020

On Saturday, you might have heard the audiobook version of the introduction of my book The Lazy Genius Way, and today’s episode is chapter one! I don’t want to make you wait around, so here it is! Chapter One of The Lazy Genius Way entitled “How to Think Like a Lazy Genius.” Stuff Mentioned Preorder either the print or audio version of The Lazy Genius Way and claim your preorder bonuses before August 11th! This podcast is hosted by Kendra Adachi and executive produced by Kendra Adachi, Jenna Fischer and Angela Kinsey. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Amazon presents Laura versus Fruitflies. Swarming your fruit and terrorizing your kitchen. These little freaks multiply at a rate that would make a rabbit say, yo. Chill. But Laura shopped on Amazon and saved on cleaning spray, countertop wipes, and fly traps. Hey, fruit flies, your baby boom ends here. Save the Everyday with Amazon. Hi there. You're listening to The Lazy Genius Podcast. I'm Kendra Adachi, and I'm here to help you be a genius

about the things that matter and lazy about the things that don't. On Saturday, you might have heard the audiobook version of the introduction of my book, The Lazy Genius Way. And today's episode is Chapter 1. I don't want to make you wait around, so here it is. Chapter 1 of the Lazy Genius Way entitled How to Think Like a Lazy Genius. How to Think Like a Lazy Genius. My first job out of college was at the church where I spent my high school years and where a few months earlier I had gotten married. Many of my coworkers had known me since before I could drive a car, but now I was a grown-up with a husband and a job description. I was eager to prove I belonged. Once a month, we had a morning staff meeting, and coworkers would take turns providing breakfast for everyone.

Most months had the usual fare of grocery store muffins and fruit salad, and I remember thinking, I can do better than this. I eventually signed up for breakfast duty, not out of kindness, but because I wanted my breakfast to be the gold standard. Yes, I cringe with humiliation as I publicly share such hubris, but as a self-righteous perfectionist, I was obsessed with keeping score, avoiding failure and being impressive. Comparison and judgment were par for the course. If I had been cool enough to go to parties as a teenager, I wouldn't have been fun at them anyway. Most folks paired up to provide the meal, but no ma'am, not me. I was going to do this entire shindig on my own. I figured weak, unimpressive people ask for help, outwardly confident, inwardly

crumbling people go solo. Obviously, perfection was my standard, and not for the food alone. Despite the fact that my husband and I had zero dollars, I splurged on a couple of platters from pottery barn so that the food I served would look beautiful. I bought a linen tablecloth. The plastic ones at church would make my new platters look bad. I purchased one of those glass drink dispensers you see in Southern living? Because perfection doesn't serve beverages from plastic pitchers. Fresh flowers, fancy napkins, you get the idea. For the menu, I thought back to a few weeks earlier when we had breakfast at a friend's house, and the entire group was in a stupor over his stuffed French toast. Goowy, golden, and a definite contender for best breakfast ever. It was the perfect choice.

But here's the kicker. I didn't know how to make stuffed French toast. I knew how to cook a decent spaghetti sauce and was in the early stages of a near perfect chocolate chip cookie. But my culinary skills weren't exactly versatile. Maybe if I had followed a recipe, things would have worked out differently. Alas, at the time, I thought recipes were also for the week. So I set out to me, make not one, but two types of stuffed French toast for 30 people without a single instruction. In case you don't know how stuffed French toast is made, let me quickly explain. You essentially make a sandwich using rich buttery bread like brioche and slather the middle with something yummy like cheese, jam, or Nutella. Then you dip that sandwich into a custard base made with egg

sugar and whole milk, and cook it in hot butter until the bread is crunchy and golden. Finally, you drizzle it with syrup or powdered sugar and cram it into your mouth with a fork or shovel. It's heavenly. Here's what I did. For stuffed French toast number one, I put American cheese between slices of wonder bread and stacked the sandwich high on a baking sheet, as in literally on top of one another. Recipe complete. For stuffed French toast number two, I made cream cheese and raspberry jelly sandwiches with that same magical wonder bread and stacked those high as well. Then I put the pan in the oven to bake. There was not an egg or stick of butter in sight. I essentially wore,

warmed up weird sandwiches and thought I was Martha Stewart. When I pulled them out, I noticed they looked a little different from my friends, but maybe that was a good thing because I did it better. Cut them into triangles and put them on my fancy platters. Lipstick on an overly confident pig. An hour later, I die thinking back to how gross they must have gotten by then. The staff meeting started. I sat in the back of the room and drew zero attention to myself, not out of embarrassment, but because I didn't want my fellow staff members to know that I wanted them to know I was responsible for this culinary masterpiece. I sat at a table watching my friends and coworkers line up for breakfast, humbly waiting for

the praise to pour in. I don't need to tell you that it did not. Breakfast was disgusting. I mean, really and truly disgusting. I could sense not only the disappointment in the room, but also the awkward game of social hot potato as people tried to thank the mystery cook for a breakfast they would later need to supplement with granola bars.

Maybe I was dramatic to almost quit my job over this fiasiscus. but that response mostly checks out. I was humiliated. I had tried to be impressive, to show everyone I could do it all, set a perfect table, make a perfect meal, and receive compliments with perfect humility. Instead, I probably gave somebody food poisoning. I cared too much about the wrong things. In case you're wondering, this is definitely not how to think like a lazy genius. Trying too hard. When you care about something, you try to do it well. When you care about everything, you do nothing well, which then compels you to try even harder. Welcome to being tired. If you're in the second camp, it's likely your efforts

to be an optimized human being have fallen embarrassingly short, as have mine. Intellectually, we know we can't do it all, but still we try. Over the last decade of my life, I've done a lot of self-reflection and therapy, trying to figure out why being perfect at literally everything felt like the answer. Everyone's story is different, and mine involves abuse. Yes, that's abrupt, and now you know I go real deep, real fast. My father and my home life were unpredictable, and as a kid, I learned that my choices had the power to affect my safety.

If I stayed quiet, got good grades, and kept my room clean, he wouldn't get mad. while my actions weren't always a direct correlation to his, I lived as if they were. I equated safety with value and love, and consequently saw my choices as the only measure of my worth. I thought I needed to be the perfect daughter, student, and friend in order to matter. I tried so hard to be enough. But my dad didn't stop telling me how to be better. I remember feeling so worthless as a kid, not understanding why he thought I should have blonde hair instead of brown,

why my straight A's were expected and not celebrated, or why he and my mom were so unhappy. Naturally, I assumed that I was the problem, that I wasn't trying hard enough, or being perfect enough to make our home a happy place. The feeling of inadequacy was overwhelming and seeped into my other relationships too. I was every teacher's favorite student. I did my homework early and without a single mistake. I was the most dependable line leader and class monitor and scored in the 99th percentile on every standardized test I took.

No student is perfect, but I got really close, assuming that was the only way to be loved. I also tried to be the perfect friend. I didn't rock the boat. I kept my problems to myself. and I was a chameleon in each relationship. No one knew that I was ashamed of having divorced parents, that I desperately wanted to be pretty,

or that I was one mistake from falling apart. I assumed letting people see the imperfect, broken parts of me would put the friendship in jeopardy, and that simply wasn't an option. That's the irony of perfection. The walls that prevent your vulnerability from being seen also keep you from being known. I was always trying to hide behind perfection because I didn't think my full self was enough. Maybe you feel that way too.

I'm not trying to get into your business, but you likely have shame, fear, or insecurity about something. and put forth a lot of effort trying to hide it. We all do because we're all human. And it doesn't have to come from something as dark as childhood abuse. Every story counts. But remember that those stories often come with lies we believe about ourselves. You and I and the pretty stranger at Target all have stories that keep us trying hard at the wrong things.

And the harder we try, the stronger the lie. You're loud and take up too much space. You're not enough like your sister. You're too much like your dad. You're not smart enough, pretty enough, athletic enough. It's your fault she's gone. As you get older, those shameful thoughts, and feelings, don't leave. They just change shape. You're not a good enough cook. How dare you not want

kids? You work too much. You must be doing something wrong if you're still not married. You're a bad mom for letting your kids watch television. No one wants to be your friend. Trying hard to impress others, to hide or to fight the shame that's annoyingly poking your insides, takes up more energy than you can bear. Add laundry and car pulls on top of that? I mean, come on. When trying hard fails you, you seem to be left with one choice to give up. There's more to life than finding the perfect car. Finding the perfect car can help you get the most out of life. Like the SUV that handles everything from drop off to off road,

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Sci-fi vision calls it the best show streaming right now. We're running out of time and we still don't know the rules. Don't miss what the movie blog calls something you need to watch. Saving those children is how we all go home. From Binge All Episodes exclusively on Paramount Plus. Aw, isn't something we need to travel for. It's something waiting for us in everyday life. whether in a city street or a moment with a work of art.

I'm Dr. Keltner, host of the Science of Happiness podcast. Join me for Cities of Aw, a special series on how our public spaces can spark awe, wonder, and enhance the quality of public life. You can find us wherever you listen to your podcasts. Not trying hard enough. Shortly after the church breakfast debacle, I threw in the towel. No more being impressive, no more caring. And I went too far. I tricked myself into thinking I had only two options.

Try too hard or don't try it all. I forgot that trying itself isn't the problem. It's beautiful to try when it comes to things that actually matter. But I definitely embraced the baby out with the back. bathwater approach. Even though one of my greatest joys is loving people by cooking for them, I ordered pizza when friends came over because I thought a homemade meal was trying too hard. Even though a calm and tidy home is good for my hamster wheel of a brain, I left my house in shambles because cleaning up was trying too hard. I stopped caring and I stopped trying.

and somehow I still felt tired. Little did I know, you can be just as exhausted from not trying as you can from trying too hard. Managing apathy and survival mode takes as much energy as managing rules and perfection. Still, I leaned into messy hair don't care to hide the fact that I cared in. deeply. I needed something that stopped the crazy pendulum swing from caring too much about the wrong things to not carrying at all. Thankfully, that's the gift of the lazy genius way. You're allowed to care. You're allowed to know yourself and be yourself, to be real. You don't have to be perfect. and you don't have to give up.

You simply get to be you. Stop trying at what doesn't matter. But don't be afraid to try at what does because it matters. The struggle isn't the only thing that's real. Our culture is obsessed with being real, but we've been using the wrong measuring stick. As I type these words, my middle son is home with a stomach bug, and he and my daughter are watching television because I'm tired of talking to them.

I haven't showered in a couple of days, and I'm in a fight with my husband. If I shared that on Instagram, you might think, I love her for being so real. But what if I share today when my kids and I were playing soccer outside? dinner was prepped by four o'clock, and I was wearing makeup. Would I still be real? Yes, I would, and so would you. I'm all for letting go of perfection, but we've somehow conflated order with being fake. I do it too. I've seen the cute mom pushing a card of docile children and full-priced Joanna Gaines items through Target and thought, sure, her stomach is flat, her kids are eating cucumbers instead of goldfish, and she's buying everything

I want, but she probably has an eating disorder and credit card debt, so I'm doing okay. If this book had gift capabilities, Jennifer Lawrence would be rolling her eyes so hard at me right now. I want to stop judging women who have it together, assuming they have something to hide. I want to stop applauding chaos as the only indicator of vulnerability. Your struggles and insecurities are not lined up next to mine pageant style. We need to stop trying to outreal each other. That life is why you and I are tired and we can let it go. So the next time you find yourself looking for flaws in seemingly perfect people, hoping it'll make you feel better, don't. Telling yourself you're better than someone is just as harmful as telling yourself

you're worse. We don't get to measure a person's authenticity based on how real her struggle is. That scale is broken. Instead, invite people over when your house is dirty and when it's clean. Be an amazing mother who sometimes yells at her kids. Enjoy a green smoothie without feeling the need to swear off sweets forever. You can be real when life is in order and when it's falling apart. life is beautifully both. Be a genius about the things that matter. I might not know you personally, but I do know this. You care about a meaningful life.

We all do. It's part of being human. And in this culture of quick fixes and shortcuts, it's natural to think easy is the goal. But you can't shortcut a meaningful life. You're not choosing all genius or all lazy. Instead, you're a lazy genius. A couple of years ago, I did an episode on the lazy genius podcast about baking bread.

I received dozens of comments along the lines of, this doesn't sound very lazy. Of course it isn't lazy. Homemade bread matters to me. Mixing and kneading the dough by hand, spending an afternoon watching it rise, and engaging in a practice that's been part of humanity for centuries. Why would I want to shortcut that? But if homemade bread doesn't matter to you, the choice is easy. Shortcut bread and have a nice day. The lazy genius principles will help you learn not only what needs a short cut. but also how to create one. They will teach you how to notice what matters and carve out important space in your day

to nurture growth in those areas. Remember, it's not all lazy or all genius. You get to choose. If you and I engage every priority without a filter of what stays and what stays and what needs to move along, eventually we'll be at a crossroads, run ourselves ragged, caring about everything, or give up, and care about nothing. The lazy genius way offers a different path. Be a genius about the things that matter and lazy about the things that don't. You have permission to let go. To let go.

wonder and go slow, or to desire, hustle, and power through, whatever you choose, make sure you're focused on what matters to you, not what matters to Instagram, your mother-in-law, or the voice in your head saying you're not enough. Every choice matters because each one matters to someone, but hold only the ones that matter to you. As you live as a unique, stunning, powerful individual, embracing what matters and ditching what doesn't, you'll empower the women in your life to do the same. I'm glad we're in this together. To recap, perfection keeps you safely hidden, but also keeps you from being truly known.

Order isn't always fake, and chaos isn't always vulnerable. Be a genius about the things that matter and lazy about the things that don't. Use a recipe the first time you make stuffed French toast. One small step. Smile at the pretty stranger at Target without judging her or yourself. We both know you're going to target today, so you'll get you. get your shot. Now, let's look at our first principle. And thanks for listening. So remember that if you pre-order the Lazy Genius Way by August 10th, the day before the launch day, whether it's the

physical copy, the e-book, or the audio version, you have the ability to get four lazy genius digital resources that are sold for $112 for nothing. So if you listen to this and you want to get the whole audio book or you know you're going to want to underline a ton of stuff and would rather have the physical copy. Pre-order from wherever you like to buy your books or your audiobooks. And then head to the lazy genius collective.com slash book to claim your pre-order bonuses. There are four digital resources that you can start using right away. One is about how to lazy genius clutter. Another is about lazy geniusing meal planning. Another lazy genius is the craziness of a fall holiday schedule, even in a pandemic. And the final one helps you be a lazy

genius about cleaning your house and keeping your home. Again, all for free. I will sell them again, for sure, because they're resources that will always be relevant and helpful. But if you have any interest in them at all, it is super duper worth pre-ordering the book now. So you can get all four of them that you would spend over $100 for for free. So pre-order by August 10th, which is next Monday, and then head to the lazy genius collective.com slash book and scroll down just a touch until you see the heading, get your lazy genius pre-order bonuses.

You're going to enter your order information and then once we confirm it, you'll get the lazy genius digital library in your inbox. One more week, you guys, it's so wild. I can't believe it. Thank you so much for listening, for being so encouraging. And I hope that as your books start coming in,

that you will be incredibly encouraged and entertained by what you read, but that ultimately you're going to walk away with practical ways to live a more whole life, a life that contains systems and soul. This has been just so fun, and I'm so grateful to all of you for making it that way. So that is it for today. Thank you for listening. Until next time, be a genius about the things that matter and lazy about the things that don't. I'm Kendra, and I'll see you next week. Have you ever felt like you were living just a B or B plus life? It's so dangerous to live that more dangerous than a B minus or a C plus life because when you're living a B or B plus life, you don't change it. You think it's good enough. Is it? I'm Susie Welch. I host a podcast

called Becoming You. People think, okay, an A plus life is not available to me, but there is a way. We are all in the process of becoming ourselves. Listen to Becoming You wherever you get your podcasts.