
Cheers to 2025
Every New Year holds promise, as though it is any different from the turn of
It’s easy to tell an open-minded person from a close-minded person because they act very differently
If you know that you are blind, you can figure out a way to see, whereas if you don’t know you’re blind, you will continue to bump into your problems. In order words, if you can recognize that you have blind spots and open-mindedly consider the possibility that others might see something better than you – and that the threats and opportunities they are trying to point out really exist – you are more likely to make good decision.
It’s easy to tell an open-minded person from a close-minded person because they act very differently. Here are some cues to tell you whether you or others are being close-minded:
1, Close-minded people don’t want their ideas challenged – They are typically frustrated that they can’t get the other person to agree with them instead of curious as to why the other person disagrees. They feel bad about getting something wrong and more interested in being proven right than in asking questions and learning other’s perspective.
Open-minded people on the other hand are more curious about why there is disagreement. They are not angry when someone disagrees. They understand that there is always the possibility that they might be wrong and that it worth the little bit of time it takes to consider the other person’s views in order to be sure they aren’t missing or making a mistake.
2, Close-minded people are more likely to make statements than ask questions. While believability entitles you to make statements in certain circumstances, truly open-minded people, even the most believable people I know, always ask a lot of questions. Nonbelievable people often tell me that their statements are actually implicit questions, though they’re phrased as low-confidence statements. While that’s sometimes true, in my experience it’s more often not.
Open-minded people genuinely believe that they could be wrong; the questions that they ask are genuine. They also assess their relative believability to determine whether their primary role should be a student, a teacher or peer.
3, close-minded people focus much more on being understood than on understanding others. When people disagree, they tend to be quicker to assume that thy aren’t being understood than to consider whether they are the ones who are not understanding the other person perspective.
Open-minded people always feel compelled to see things through other’s eyes.
4, close-minded people say things like “I could be wrong…but here is my opinion.” This is a classic cue I hear all the time. It’s often a perfunctory gesture that allows people to hold their own opinion while convincing themselves that they are being open-minded. If your statement starts with “I could be wrong” or “I’m not believable,” you should probably follow it with a question and not an assertion.
Open-minded people know when to make statements and when to ask questions.
5, Close-minded people block others from speaking. If it seems like someone isn’t leaving space for the other person in a conversation, its possible they are blocking. To get around blocking, enforce the “two-minute rule” (listening without interrupting)
Open-minded people are always more interested in listening than in speaking; they encourage others to voice their views.
6, Close-minded people have trouble holding two thoughts simultaneously in their minds. They allow their own view to crowd out those of others.
Open-minded people can take in the thoughts of others without losing their ability to think well – they can hold two or more conflicting concepts in their mind and go back and forth between them to assess their relative merits.
7, Close-minded people lack a deep sense of humility. Humility typically comes from an experience of crashing, which leads to an enlightened focus on knowing what one doesn’t know.
Open-minded people approach everything with a deep-seated fear that they may be wrong.
Once you can sort out open-minded from close-minded people, you will find that you want to surround yourself with open-minded ones. Doing so will not only make your decision making more effective but you’ll also learn a tremendous amount.
A few good decision makers can significantly improve his or her decision making with the help of other excellent decision makers.
Culled from Ray Dalio’s Principles


Every New Year holds promise, as though it is any different from the turn of

There is a category of question that polite intellectual company tends to avoid: the kind that, if you pull the thread long enough, begins to unravel not just a specific mystery but the entire fabric of what we think we know about human history. The Pyramids of Giza are that thread. They have been standing in the Egyptian desert for roughly 4,500 years.

Let me take you somewhere. Not to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean — at least, not yet. First, to Lagos. Nigeria. Sometime in the late 1980s. A teenager who should probably have been revising for exams is instead sitting cross-legged on the floor of a library, holding a book that is older than most of the furniture around it, reading about a city beneath the sea.

This is my story of discovering a film that challenged everything I thought I knew about the gift of time, every pulsating detail documented to inspire you to leap beyond your limitations and appreciate the beauty of growing old.
This story explores the paradox of immortality and why a movie from 2015 still resonates so deeply with audiences today.
I hope you find it worth your time.

This is my story, every pulsating detail documented to inspire you to question what you know and leap beyond your limitations.
This story is about the audacity of belief, the power of a well-told lie, and the journey to unlearn the things that poisoned my teenage mind.
I hope you find it worth your time.

There is a category of question that polite intellectual company tends to avoid: the kind that, if you pull the thread long enough, begins to unravel not just a specific mystery but the entire fabric of what we think we know about human history. The Pyramids of Giza are that thread. They have been standing in the Egyptian desert for roughly 4,500 years.

There is a peculiar kind of madness that does not arrive with hallucinations or trembling hands. It arrives quietly. At two in the morning. In a small desert town in New Mexico. It sounds like an idling diesel engine somewhere in the distance — except there is no engine. It sounds like a bass note being held by an invisible orchestra — except there is no orchestra.

Let me confess something. Long before LinkedIn articles, podcasts, and leadership keynotes became my world, I was a teenager sneaking to the library

In an era that increasingly demands hyper-specialization, Akin Akingbogun stands out as a refreshing anomaly. He is a man who refuses to be confined to a single box.

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Let me tell you something uncomfortable: the most generous person you know — the one who volunteers every weekend, donates quietly, never asks for anything in return — is probably getting something out of it. Not money. Maybe not even recognition. But something.

Adaeze had been awake since 4 a.m.
Not because she was anxious — though she was — but because this trip felt different. After eighteen months of follow-ups, phone calls, and PowerPoint presentations polished to a mirror shine, the deal was finally ready to close. An investor meeting in Abuja. A partnership that would change the trajectory of her small but gutsy consulting firm. She had triple-checked her flight, her documents, her outfit. She had prayed. She was ready.

When he told his father, Dare’s first response was a sigh. Then: “I told you to practice more. I told you months ago. You don’t listen. You never listen.”
There was no “I’m sorry, son.” No pause to let the boy simply feel the loss of the thing he wanted. Just a swift, seamless pivot to what Temi had done wrong — and, by extension, how Temi’s failure was evidence of Temi’s failure to take his father’s wisdom seriously.

I want to tell you something that took me embarrassingly long to learn. Not because the idea is complicated — it is not. But because it cuts against something deeply wired in us, something we are rarely honest enough to admit.
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