The best advice isn't even a thing
We want the best. Why? Well, it's the best. But the best isn't even a thing. Not really. And it's for one primary reason: the best for who?
Who's the best actor?
Where's the best restaurant?
What's the best bed sheet?
There are commonly held answers to these questions—both among experts and non-experts, but honestly:
Who cares?
Daniel Day Lewis is world class, but none of his movies rank in my top 20 favorite films.
The French Laundry is world class, but I've had more satisfying bites from a food truck.
I couldn't come up with a bed sheet example because what the fuck with finding even decent bed sheets. Literally impossible.
Seeking out the best is particularly troubling when it comes to advice. For every piece of advice you hear, there's a contradictory piece of advice lurking around the corner.
And this is because there's a difference between the best and the best for you.
I think sometimes we get so caught up trying to research the best restaurant or workout routine that we forget the most important part:
Just try SOMETHING.
Something. Literally anything.
Why? Because then you have a reference point. A baseline level of understanding of how you felt about it. Let me give you a practical example. For the past four months I've been diligently trying to optimize my morning routine. I've read a ton about rituals and routines during this time and have finally figured out that a lot of what was considered “the best” wasn't the best for me. So, I ended up doing something quite radical:
I just tried SOMETHING.
And then I tried some different SOMETHINGS.
Scientists have a word for this: experimentation.
I've come to realize that experimentation is a lost practice for many of us. Instead of experimenting with various approaches, we Google "best time to work out" and then think WE are the problem when waking up two hours earlier doesn't work for our life. And when we're the problem, we start to think there's no point in working out at all so we give up.
Instead, we should be experimenting with various times: 7am for a few days, then 3pm for a few days, then 8pm for a few days, taking notes on how we feel during each of these trials. How we feel is far more important than if [more current celebrity reference than Arnold Schwarzenegger] says it's "the only way to start your day." You might find that working out in the evening is the key to feeling more energetic, having higher quality sleep, or even saving your marriage.
Also, you know what else is underrated? Good enough.
Sometimes all we need to start is a tiny, good enough version of the optimal fully realized version. I went down a rabbit hole on "the best bath towels" on Amazon the other day and was cross referencing user reviews with Wirecutter's top picks with brand names and finally, I just said fuck it, and pulled the trigger on ones that were "good enough."
And guess what happened when I got them in the mail?
They were good enough.
They weren't the best bath towels I'd ever used in my life. In fact, they shed. They shed a LOT. At the current rate I think they'll dissolve in a year. And you know what? That's okay. They don't need to last until I'm retired. They just need to efficiently take the water off my body after a shower without also taking the skin along with it.
These bath towels are an experiment. Next time I buy bath towels, I'll experiment with something else.
I can't tell you how often I'm trapped in an un-winnable search to watch "the next best movie" I haven't yet seen on Netflix and I’m all like "okay so Rotten Tomatoes has this at 86% but Metacritic says 57% but the AUDIENCE says 93% but then ROGET EBERT IS STILL WRITING REVIEWS I THOUGHT HE DIED" and you know what happens?
I end up getting so exhausted that I instead watch the back of my fucking eyelids close as I go to bed.
Experts call this "decision fatigue." I call it "I'm cancelling Netflix."
Whether it's movies or restaurants or life advice, I think we need to just try some stuff. And then see how it feels as opposed to chasing this illusion of best.
Best is the mirage in the desert that you keep moving toward but it always moves away because of... something... I... look, I learned how the rain cycle worked in 5th grade for what seemed like three years, but I have literally no idea what causes a body of water to seemingly appear in the middle of a body of sand. No clue. None whatsoever.
Try some stuff.
Experiment more.
Sit with it.
How does it feel for you?
You know how it feels for me?
It feels like thread count is a fucking scam because these L.L. Bean sheets cost over $160 and I am about to throw my fucking hands up and get jersey knit. You know why? Because no one even knows what pima cotton even is and despite everyone saying "jersey knit gets too hot," I actually think I care less about the heat and more about how soft they feel.
They're so fucking soft.
But that's just me.
Completely agree with this! I don't think I'll ever be able to give up my Expert Lists of The Best Things for Every Situations, but I recognize that it's just a starting point and I will need to tweak based on what I care about - and eventually just make my best guess and see how it goes! Also the comic is really great!