Mindful Matter
It's you I like.
If you’ve received our Reflections emails for awhile, you know how much wisdom and inspiration we get from Mister Rogers. In addition to reminding us of childhood and demonstrating the power of intention, Fred Rogers also embodied compassion, which is this month’s Holstee theme. One example was in the now-famous episode where he welcomed Jeff Erlanger onto the show. When Jeff was seven months old, he was diagnosed with a spinal tumor. During a surgery to remove the tumor, Jeff’s nervous system was damaged and he was left as a quadriplegic. Five years later, just before an important spinal surgery, his parents asked Jeff if there was anything he wanted. Jeff said he wanted to meet Mister Rogers. His sister wrote a letter to the show and incredibly, Mister Rogers agreed to meet the Erlanger family one morning in Wisconsin for breakfast. Years later, Mister Rogers welcomed Jeff onto the show. In this video clip, Rogers has an open and honest conversation with Jeff. They sing a variation of the song, “It’s You I Like”: “It’s you I like,It’s not the things you wear,It’s not the way you do your hair –But it’s you I likeThe way you are right now,The way down deep inside you –Not the things that hide you,Not your toys –They’re just beside you.But it’s you I like –Every part of you,Your skin, your eyes, your feelingsWhether old or new.I hope that you’ll rememberEven when you’re feeling blueThat it’s you I like,It’s you yourself,It’s you, it’s you I like.” A message of understanding, compassion and indiscriminate love. And a beautiful reminder that we are enough, just the way we are. I'll end this email the same way Mister Rogers ended every episode: "There's no person in the whole world like you, and I like you, just the way you are." Dave RadparvarCo-Founder, Holstee P.S. In 1999 when Fred Rogers was being inducted into the TV Hall of Fame, Jeff Erlanger turned up as a surprise guest to welcome him on stage. Speechless, the 71-year-old Rogers leapt on stage and gave Jeff a hug. It’s a beautiful reunion, followed by a thoughtful speech on the responsibility of those in media. Here is the clip. (Get the tissues ready!)
Learn more
A new kind of Manifesto.
I made the art that went out to members this month for our monthly theme of Compassion. It's actually a poem I wrote a few years ago while living in Brooklyn. It came to me when I was washing dishes late one night. I remember it exactly. It started as a few lines in my head, then one after another each line hit me. When I finished in the kitchen, I walked over to my notepad and wrote it all out. I knew it was a powerful reminder that I needed to keep front of mind. A simple reminder that we are enough. A few days ago, my Print Membership with the Compassion Art and Guide arrived. As soon as my wife, Jess, opened it, she pointed out the contrast between this message and the Manifesto we wrote 10 years ago. The Holstee Manifesto is a lot about striving — about doing (and not doing) in order to make the most of our lives. This is a different message. This is a message of liberation. Liberation from labels and expectations — everyone else's but also our own. It’s a message of acceptance. Not of who we think we are (our egos) but who we are deep inside. The part so deep inside we don't have the words for it — “soul” and “consciousness” only scratch the surface. It’s about accepting that nebulous thought, and finding comfort and perhaps even bliss in it. And lastly it's permission. Permission to love who you are free of judgement. Permission to be content in this moment. If you haven't seen it yet, here is a photo of me with this month’s print: I hope you find it a worthy and timely reminder in your life. Sending love and compassion, Dave RadparvarCo-Founder, Holstee
Learn more
Stay the course.
I was recently looking through some past Holstee artwork and came across our Stay The Course Print. Reading the caption on the back was just the Monday morning inspiration I needed. Perhaps it will resonate with you today too... Trying obstacles and turbulent waters will come up for all of us, but how we react to them is what matters most. A small ship in a large, endless ocean seems insignificant, but braving the waves not only allows the ship to sail on, it alters the entire ocean. Our individual effort may feel trivial, but the rippling effect we each make on the world is immeasurable. Approach life’s greatest challenges with your fullest conviction and keep moving forward. Stay the course, Mike RadparvarCo-Founder, Holstee P.S. We only have 14 pieces of this letterpress 5x7 print left. If these words and design resonate with you, pick one up for just $10.
Learn more
What was your favorite physical activity as a kid?
When I was a kid, I distinctly remember loving to climb, especially in places that were not meant to be climbed. Whether it was going up a staircase without touching the stairs, scaling to the highest branches of a tree, or finding ways to get onto the roof of our house — the bigger the challenge, the better. Fast forward 25 years to last weekend. I visited Joshua Tree National Park with David and Fabian. If you haven’t been, I highly recommend it — the park is filled with beautiful walking trails, massive boulders, and mountainsides. Kid Mike would have been in climbing heaven. But to my surprise, that hunger to climb up and jump off everything in sight was mostly replaced with unsteady feet and a serious case of nerves. At the top of some boulders, I found myself suddenly experiencing a fear of heights. I had the not very legitimate worry that a strong gust of wind might come and suddenly make me lose my footing. And maybe it’s my new fatherly instincts (Mala is now 9 months!) but I really wanted Dave and Fabian to not climb to the top of a narrow point or jump between the boulders. At one point, I realized that 11-year-old me and 36-year-old me were at odds — these were all things I loved to do. My childhood self was fearless, ready to scale any obstacle with a sense of energy (and maybe a little bit of naivete). But my adult self is more hesitant. He knows what it means to climb and fall. To try and fail. More experience, but also more baggage. Today, I am discovering more wisdom from that younger me. The “Mikey” who was not just willing but EXCITED to go outside his comfort zone. While I’d like this story to have a heroic and tidy ending where I faced my fears and did some sweet flip off a boulder and everything was all right, this isn’t that story. I didn’t do any wild climbs or jumps. But I did leave Joshua Tree with a realization of my fears and an acknowledgement that the irrational ones will take practice to overcome, and the others may be there for a good reason. What was your favorite physical activity as a kid? Do you still do it? If not, why not? Mike RadparvarCo-Founder, Holstee P.S. This question is one of the journaling and discussion prompts we included in this month’s Wellness Guide (Digital and Print).
Learn more
Weekly Wins
When Mike and I first started Holstee, we learned a simple lesson the hard way. Much like today, we had endless to-do lists. Logging 10-12 hours each day, we were just two young and scrappy 20-somethings trying to do it all. But we felt like we were hardly making a dent in our work. So we dialed it up even more — more cups of coffee, later nights, earlier mornings — determined to get on top of our workload. But every time we crossed 10 things off those lists, 10 more popped up — the modern equivalent of Sisyphus pushing a boulder up a hill for eternity. Despite doing a lot, we never got the reward of feeling like we were moving forward. We never felt fulfilled. Inevitably, we’d end the week feeling defeated. It took a few months before we realized that this was not sustainable — not for our minds, our bodies, or our business. So we put in place a tradition that we still practice today, 10 years later. Every Friday, each Holstee team member identifies their highlights and accomplishments from the past week. They then share this list in a dedicated “Wins” channel on Slack, our team communication platform. While the length of our to-do lists hasn't changed and we still burn the midnight oil on occasion, we now feel we can end the week reflecting on how far we’ve come and acknowledge the small steps it takes to get there. This helps us enter the weekend feeling accomplished. So much of how we feel is informed by our outlook, which can often be skewed. Sometimes all we need to do is create a practice to reflect on our days and weeks to see how far we’ve actually come — to fire up that sense of fulfillment we all deserve to feel. It's easy to see what's yet to be done, but don't forget to celebrate all you’ve accomplished. Dave RadparvarCo-Founder, Holstee P.S. We have brought this tradition to our member community, with members sharing their Weekly Wins every Friday in our online group. Become a Holstee Member and join us in this weekly practice for yourself!
Learn more
Listen to your body.
When it comes to taking care of our bodies, there’s no shortage of opinions on how we should be living. Recently, I realized that I’ve been part of that noise. You see, I love sharing things that bring me joy — especially when it comes to health and wellness. One example is with yogurt. For many years, I’ve loved starting my day with a dose of really thick yogurt. If at any point in the day I don’t feel great, I turn to yogurt. It gives me energy and makes me feel fantastic. So naturally, I started telling all my friends and family how great yogurt is and how everyone should be eating more yogurt. It wasn’t long before I started getting pushback from people telling me that yogurt made them feel the opposite. It made them ill, or gave them a stomachache. Initially I would think, “Oh well, maybe they aren’t having the right yogurt.” But then I thought back to the source — what was it that made me so convinced that yogurt is that great? It was my body — the way yogurt made me feel. But everybody — and every body — is different. So even if something makes me feel my best, that doesn’t mean that everyone will have the same reaction. This was an “aha moment” for me about the importance of being in touch with and listening to our own bodies. Our bodies communicate with us in a variety of ways. Some are visible, like a rash or a stuffy nose. But others are more subtle, like a slight tummy ache, or having a cloudy-headed feeling. In recent years, I have come to appreciate that a powerful way to improve our personal wellbeing is to fine-tune our ability to listen to our bodies. The more we practice this skill, the more easily we realize when our bodies are trying to tell us something. Being mindful of the small ways my body communicates helps me understand and prioritize my health in a holistic sense. This month's Wellness Guide provides a framework to reflect on how you feel in different areas of your life to help you connect with your current state of wellbeing. To your health, Dave RadparvarCo-Founder, Holstee
Learn more
The New Colossus
“Give me your tired, your poor,Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free...” You have likely heard these words before. They are from “The New Colossus”, a sonnet written by Emma Lazarus in 1883 (full text below). She wrote it to help raise money for the base of the Statue of Liberty in New York City (the statue itself a gift from France). Unlike the original Colossus — a famous Greek statue built to demonstrate power — Lazarus saw the Statue of Liberty as having a "maternal strength, one that would boldly and compassionately welcome newcomers." This was an important message given the context. Around the time Lazarus was writing the poem, the U.S. passed the Chinese Exclusion Act, which limited immigrants from a specific region for the first time in American history. Then in 1886, when the statue opened to the public, the U.S. happened to experience a jump in immigrants from Europe, triggering 19th-century pundits to start inciting fear about the wave of newcomers. The similarities between 1883 and modern times are notable, which is one reason we feature this poem in this month’s Kinship guide. At 138 years old, it seems there is still something we can learn from it. Our greatest sign of strength — our colossus — stems not from our conquests but rather from our compassion. With open minds, open arms, and open hearts, Mike RadparvarCo-Founder, Holstee The New ColossusBy Emma Lazarus "Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,With conquering limbs astride from land to land;Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall standA mighty woman with a torch, whose flameIs the imprisoned lightning, and her nameMother of Exiles. From her beacon-handGlows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes commandThe air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries sheWith silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
Learn more
Don’t wash the dishes...
Over the weekend I visited an intentional living community that was hosting a craft festival. Above the kitchen sink, there was a handwritten sign that caught my attention. It said: "Don't wash the dish because it is dirty. Don't wash the dish because someone told you to. Wash the dish because you love the person that will use it next." I love that. I love it because I know what it feels like to do something from a place of love rather than obligation. It causes a ripple effect of positive energy, one that starts by liberating the person making the action. When I do something from a place of love, my mind isn't keeping score. It's not calculating the return on investment. I’m operating from a place of abundance and joy. Whether it’s a complete stranger or if you are the one using the dish next — washing it shows your respect and appreciation for those that come after. Of course it's not just about dishes. It’s about our relationship with ourselves, our neighbors and our planet. Like with the dish, we shouldn't leave this planet better than we found it because someone told us to — but rather because we love our kids, our kids’ kids and the countless creatures who will depend on the planet long after we are gone. Do it because of love, and you will love doing it. Even the dishes :-) Dave RadparvarCo-Founder, Holstee
Learn more
You’re not invisible.
For months, I’ve been going to the park near my house to do my morning stretching. The first few times, I was unfamiliar with the place, and with the people. I tend to be shy in new environments, so I kept to myself. Headphones on, music playing, I focused on my exercise routine and avoided eye contact. I didn't want to disrupt anyone, so I chose to ignore everyone. I was, in a way, pretending I was invisible. After a few weeks, I began to recognize some familiar faces. But by then, I had gotten so used to not acknowledging anyone that I thought it might be perceived as odd to start saying hello now. Maybe they hadn’t seen me and wouldn’t recognize me like I recognized them? Then one day, this older silver-haired man with a white sweatband, tiny running shorts and socks up to his knees came to the park. He immediately greeted me, shook my hand and started his workout. As he jogged off, I saw that it wasn't just me he was acknowledging, but everyone he passed. A smile to the guy walking his dog, an encouraging thumbs up to the woman doing squats, a good morning to the family biking to school — this guy was sending out good vibes to everyone. It might just be me, but that little bit of acknowledgement made me feel welcome — not just welcome in the park, but welcome on this planet. It was a reminder that we are all in this together, that we’re part of something greater. It made me feel better about myself. And it planted the seed that today might be a great day. He was planting seeds of trust, openness, and community in everyone he passed, just by simply acknowledging that we all exist. The skeptical voice in my head, the one that is constantly bombarded with messages of fear, tells me not to trust strangers — that someone who engages with me probably wants something in return, that it’s best to keep my head down. But if we border ourselves with walls built of fear, we not only block out perceived threats but we also miss out on the possibility of love, friendship, new ideas and adventure. In the spirit of this month's theme, Kinship, I am going out of my way to acknowledge people and grow the sense of community we all live in. Make someone feel welcome; you may just make their day. Dave RadparvarCo-Founder, Holstee
Learn more
