Elizabeth Bloom

My current evening protocol: - 20 min sauna at 200 degrees - 3 min cold plunge at 39 degrees - Shower + face wash - Anti-aging serum + moisturizer For skincare I use my Wild Roman 100% natural face routine. Try it here: wildroman.com/products/face-… P.S. DM me for a $25 off code.

Good all-natural moisturizer. Cheat code to looking younger: Moisturize your face every night. Exactly why I created the Wild Roman Face Moisturizer: - 100% natural - Zero parabens, phthalates, synthetics - 4.9 star average review Try it now (10% off): wildroman.com/discount/WRFAC…

I try to optimize for two things: Waking up energized and going to bed exhausted. The former means I’m doing things I enjoy with people I love. The latter means I did those things to the fullest extent of my ability. I don't overthink it. A good life is just a lot of good days.

Hot take (that shouldn’t be that hot): You can have a drink now and then with your friends and still be a healthy person. Too many people traded drinks with friends for social media doomscrolling, porn, and gambling by themselves.

Sauna is an underrated cheat code for your skin: - Deep cleansing of dirt/bacteria - Improves blood flow to skin - Enhanced collagen production - Detoxification - Reduced inflammation/puffiness My evening protocol: - 20 minute sauna at 200 degrees - 3 minute cold plunge at 39 degrees - Shower + face wash - Anti-aging serum + moisturizer - Sleep For skincare I use my Wild Roman 100% natural face routine. Only ingredients you can find in nature. Thousands of customers. 4.8 star average review. You can get it here: wildroman.com/products/face-… P.S. DM me for a $25 off code to try it.

The real secret to looking younger: Moisturize your face every night. It’s crazy that people will work out, eat clean foods, optimize sleep, and then completely ignore skin health. It's the largest organ in your body and also the most commonly neglected. That's why I created the Wild Roman Face Moisturizer: - 100% natural - Rich in vitamins A, D, E, and K - Restores skin barrier - Deeply hydrating - Zero parabens, phthalates, synthetics Thousands of customers. 4.9 star average review. Try it now (10% off): wildroman.com/discount/SBFAC…

My mom hired a young writer to sit with my 94-year-old grandmother in India and document stories from her life. They met weekly for two years. The process brought my grandmother joy. The result will bring my family joy for years to come. I think everyone should do this: We had planned to give her the book on her 95th birthday, but sadly, life had other plans. After she passed in October 2023, we took our time finding photos to fill the pages. This week, we got to see the final product. My mom found the writer through an elderly care service in India. Her request was for someone who would record and transcribe stories from my grandmother. The writer was a recent university graduate named Raika Sengupta. The process began shortly after the pandemic lockdowns ended in India. Raika would visit with my grandmother every week. Depending on my grandmother’s energy, they would meet for an hour or less. Each time, they would pick up where they left off on her life journey. Raika would record the conversation and then transcribe the recordings. Mostly in my grandmother’s own words, with some stylistic improvements where necessary. My grandmother was an amazing storyteller, so the writing naturally flowed. The weekly meeting became a beautiful ritual. During a time when there wasn’t much to look forward to because of COVID lockdowns and a diminished social life, my grandmother looked forward to these sessions. They made her feel important again. Such a powerful thing at her age. Once the writing was complete, my mother, a beautiful writer herself, took the pen on editing and converting the stories into a book. She worked with my grandmother on the flow and filling in the gaps. They added chapters on special people in her life. We wanted to add photos to the book, so the whole family got involved. When I traveled to India in 2023, I got to sit with my mom, dad, and grandmother and go through old photos to include. We uncovered some real gems. It was beautiful. I didn't know it would be the last time I would see my grandmother in this world... But her legacy lives on in the stories and pages of this book. We had enough copies made so that all of her family could have a copy to remember her by. I really believe everyone should do this. One of the saddest things is seeing our grandparents feel they are no longer “important” to anyone. That they no longer matter. The process reminded my grandmother how much she was loved and how much she still had to offer the world. There are a variety of services (including some AI-enabled options) to make it seamless and cost-effective to capture, document, and memorialize the stories from your loved ones. I would encourage everyone to consider doing the same for your parents or grandparents. It's a beautiful thing.

WARNING: Longer post (but worth reading or bookmarking for later). There is a Middle Path to Happiness. In the 3rd century BCE, a ruler named King Pyrrhus had a memorable exchange with a trusted advisor: “Having conquered Italy, what will we do next?” his advisor asked. After Italy, then we will conquer Sicily," Pyrrhus replied. “And then what?” asked the advisor. “Then Libya and Carthage are within reach," said the king. “And then what?” Smiling, King Pyrrhus replied, “Then we will live a life of ease. Drink all day and have pleasant conversation with our friends." The advisor paused and spoke: “But what's stopping us from doing that today?” This is one of the oldest documented cases of a common psychological phenomenon: The Arrival Fallacy. It's the false assumption that reaching some achievement or goal will create durable feelings of satisfaction and contentment in our lives. We incorrectly assume that we will finally experience the sensation of having arrived when we reach whatever we have propped up as our destination. King Pyrrhus presents a chain of conquering campaigns as the means to his eventual arrival. They would conquer Italy. Then Sicily. Then Libya and Carthage. Then, and only then, could they reach the idyllic end. To live at ease, drink all day, and engage in pleasant conversation. But his advisor shatters this illusion. There was nothing stopping them from living that way today. How often do we fall victim to this same illusion in our own lives? From the earliest days of adulthood, we're indoctrinated into a belief that the blissful life we seek is on the other side of some thing. Some achievement. Some conquest. Some title. Some figure. The specific items are individual, but the logic never varies: When I get [X], then I'll be happy. Then I'll be fulfilled. Then I'll enjoy myself. Then I'll be content. When I get that promotion... When I find the perfect partner... When I make my first million... When I sell my company... We slowly accept the premise that our happiness and fulfillment are conditional on these things. That there's some magical recipe to achieve that end state and we're just missing the final ingredients to get there. That if we simply add those missing components, we'll have what we want. And let's be honest, we've all done it. Myself included. I think and write about these things for a living and still find myself falling into the trap. It's very real and very human. The goal isn't to never fall into it, but to notice it when you do. Instead of blindly accepting the logic, when you notice it at work, play the role of the advisor in your own internal dialogue: What's stopping you from doing that today? What if the ingredients of your own happiness and fulfillment are already present, waiting to be noticed and seized upon? What if they were never really missing? It's a beautiful notion. One that resonates deeply. But here's what I struggle with: Life is rarely so black and white. It's true that most of what you need is right in front of you. Sometimes the only thing stopping you from living the fulfilled life you envision is the illusion you've created that you don't deserve it yet. The advisor wasn't wrong about this. But at the same time, the answer can't just be to stop everything. To halt your ambitions. To shut off your pursuits. To be perfectly content where you are, with what you have in front of you. Sometimes conquering Carthage is...good. Your Carthage could be that financial milestone that unlocks lower levels of stress or new experiences with people you love. Your Carthage could be the growth and mastery that brings joy as you get better at the games you're choosing to play. Your Carthage could be the focused sprint that teaches your kids a critical lesson that working hard on things you care about is a key principle for life. My point here, I suppose, is that the common interpretation of the story about King Pyrrhus and his advisor, or any similar story, is flawed. The common interpretation says Pyrrhus wrong, advisor right. But I think it's more nuanced than that... Maybe they're both right, and wrong, in their own way. Ambition isn't the mortal enemy. And presence isn't the perfect hero. The two can coexist in the beautiful, imperfect dance that is your life. Sometimes skewing one way, sometimes the other, but both always there. Always close. So, this is how I've come to wrestle with it in my own life: I choose the middle path. I reject the black and white. I reject the or and embrace the and. Presence and ambition. Ambition and presence. The chase, the pursuit, the growth. And the pause, the space, the joy. Maybe the two aren't in tension. At least not really. Maybe they're just two parts of your life harmony. Different individually, seemingly at extreme odds, but coming together to create something beautiful. You can conquer your Carthage if you want to. Just don't make the wine wait for it. It's perfectly ok to go after the things you care about. To chase your grand vision for the future. To create and build. To stretch beyond your current competencies. To live your life at full power. But never let the quest for more distract you from the beauty of now. The good life isn't waiting at the finish line. At the arrival. Because it was never there anyway. It's here. Right in front of you. In this moment. So, chase your Carthage. And along the way, make sure to enjoy the wine. That's the Middle Path I'll be taking. How about you?

I took that marathon failure personally… So this morning, I drove back to the course and started running in the dark by myself. And I got it done: - Final Time: 2:48:47 - Average Pace: 6:26 No, it doesn’t “count” but when I say I’m going to do something, I do it. Full stop.

The secret to looking 10 years younger: Moisturize your face every night. It’s crazy that people will work out, eat clean, optimize sleep, and then ignore skin health. Largest organ in your body but also the most commonly neglected. That's why I created the Wild Roman Face Moisturizer: - 100% natural - Rich in vitamins A, D, E, and K - Restores skin barrier - Deeply hydrating - Zero parabens, phthalates, or synthetics Thousands of customers. 4.9 star average review. Try it now (10% off): wildroman.com/discount/SBFAC…

The loudest critics of those in the arena are always those who never had the courage to step into it themselves.

WARNING: Emotional post (but worth reading or bookmarking for later). Time is cruel. But that cruelty carries the seeds of beauty. Last weekend, my family and I made our annual pilgrimage to a small community in northwest Connecticut. We started going when I was 18 months old. I met my two best friends there. I caught my first fish there. I had my first crush there. But perhaps most importantly, I played my first game of catch there. As I remember it, I was probably about five years old. My dad had a softball and a couple of old baseball gloves. And there, in the tall, overgrown grass, we threw the ball back and forth. As the years wore on, I got bigger and the ball started moving faster. We played catch damn near every single day when I was a kid. It didn't really matter what time of year or what time of day. We'd play catch in the snow in January. In the early morning light before school. In the dim light of the evenings when he got home from work. In high school, when I started getting college scholarship offers, we played catch. While on the team at Stanford, when my family went on vacation, we played catch. But then, my career ended. And with it, our game of catch. Time is a funny thing. Usually, it goes unnoticed. It exists, but not really. Only in some abstract sense. It flows under the surface. Adjacent to your reality, but not exactly in it. The routines of life make it go faster. You settle into patterns. Paths with gravity. You take a job. You establish a place. You start a family. The days start blending together. They become weeks, months, years, even decades. But then, something breaks. There's some collision. Suddenly, time gets thrust to the surface. Time goes unnoticed, until it's the only thing you notice. I've felt that most painfully with my parents. My dad is 70 now. In some ways, that 70-year-old version feels like a stranger to me. I think the image we have of our parents never really changes from the one we establish as kids. I still see my dad as the young, vibrant, athletic young man. The one who could hit the ball farther than anyone I knew. The one who could toss me up on his shoulders in a flash. The one who could beat me in a race (but usually let me win). I still see that young dad in his eyes, in his energy, in his curiosity for life. In some painful sense, I imagine the 70-year-old version feels like a stranger to him, too. Time is cruel. But that cruelty carries the seeds of beauty. The most beautiful things in life are made beautiful by their impermanence. So, what are we to do about all of this? Perhaps we must simply give in to time. Embrace its unending, relentless flow. Live as we are. Do as we can. But what if, in truth, we have a bit more power than that? What if it's possible, in some imperfect, impermanent way, to control time? To bend time and space. To really be there. To really feel it. To embrace it, without giving in to it. To live as we want. To do as we dream. That theory is what brings me back to last Sunday, when I felt compelled to unlock one of the old cabinets in my parent's cottage. It was a cabinet that, when opened, had the feel of a time capsule. Dust and cobwebs everywhere. A musty smell. Like reaching into it was reaching back in time. I pulled out my old baseball glove. And my dad's old catcher's mitt. I walked outside, where I found my dad playing with his grandsons on the swings. I held up the two gloves, a smile across my face. "Hey, Dad, wanna have a catch?" I smiled. He smiled. We walked side by side out onto the field. And there, in the tall, overgrown grass, we threw the ball back and forth. As we did, something amazing happened. Time melted away. 30 years disappeared. He wasn't 70. I wasn't 35. I was that little boy again. And he was my young dad. Just playing catch for no purpose at all. It was just a game of catch. But it was so much more.

Today is Tim Cook's last day as CEO at Apple. I first met Tim in 2014 and I've been fortunate to call him a mentor and friend ever since. I want to share something about him that I've found remarkable. He's the best example I've seen of an old Zen saying: "What do you do before enlightenment? Chop wood, carry water. What do you do after enlightenment? Chop wood, carry water." When we met, I was just starting my career in finance. I was getting to the gym at 4:45am so I could get to the office by 6:30. Tim happened to be one of a tiny group of others who showed up every morning at that early hour. For the first six months, I had no idea who he was. I wasn't in tech and, having played college sports, I was frankly quite oblivious to the entire business world. I remember being shocked after someone told me that the guy I was talking to in the mornings was the CEO of Apple. For two reasons: 1. He had zero pretension about him. I never would have known how important or powerful he was. 2. He was already successful. Why the hell was he waking up at 4am to go to the gym? Now, to be fair, in 2014, there were still questions about whether he was going to be an impactful successor to the legend that was Steve Jobs. A lot of people weren't sure he would be able to fill those enormous shoes. But a few years later, he was still there. He had created a trillion dollars of value. People were calling him one of the best CEOs in the world. And he was still showing up at 4:45am. Still doing the same thing. Chop wood, carry water. As you start to experience success, notoriety, and achievement, it’s easy to lose sight of the work that got you those things in the first place. It’s easy to get distracted by results. By recognition. By the illusion that success somehow exempts you from the basics. It doesn’t. The outcomes may change. The titles may change. The scale may change. But the work doesn’t. Chopping wood and carrying water means showing up when no one is watching. Doing the boring work well. Being reliable. Executing consistently. Returning to fundamentals even when you think you’re above them. Especially then. Tim has been an example of that in my life. I'm grateful for having been able to see it up close. And I also know that whatever he does next, the same thing will apply. Chop wood, carry water.