Our extended family lives in the same city and we're always getting together (brother/sisters-in-laws, their kids). So basically our generation and our kids. Probably 13-15 of us.

We meet maybe once or twice a month, but whenever we meet, kids just go do kids things, dads go over here, moms go over there. One of the dads invariably falls asleep, one or two of the kids kind of mull about not quite fitting in here or there.

I was wondering if any of you had any ideas for something that can be done together that might help build memories or at least structure some time so that there's meaningful interaction and we can get to know each other better instead of defaulting to whatever is least effort.

The only constraint is that is has to be that it's an in-home, indoor activity suitable for teens/pre-teens.

Next week, I will be closing on my first ever home (hello Michigan tilderinos!). One of the projects I want to tackle and work on after I move in is setting up a smart home ecosystem that is sustainable long-term. I saw the open-source Home Assistant but I think I need to do more research on it and find compatible products. For now, my wishlist of projects are:

• Controllable lighting from my phone or computer
• Carbon Monoxide/Natural Gas detection
• Water leak and usage monitoring
• Thermostat

Are there any other use cases that you use home automation for? If you use Home Assistant (or used it in the past), what are some things I should consider? Any products that you bought in the past and regret now?

Aiming this question at parents mostly.

I'm about to be a dad in the next week or so and I obviously want to raise my son to be a good person. My father was/is an absent drug addict, so I have a good roadmap of "don't." But I saw very little in the way of "do."

Where is the line between being too authoritarian vs too permissive? What are your thoughts on gentle parenting? I don't want to trade "well-behaved" for "well-adjusted" or vice versa.

I'm also open to newborn advice since that's what I'll primarily be dealing with for the next little while, obviously.

First of all, this is a lot about me and myself and I'm sorry it's a bit self-centered; it's been bouncing around my head and I want to get it out somewhere. Please let me know if this isn't appropriate here.

Secondly, teachers or those in training to become one: I want to hear your thoughts on this question.

Why am I becoming a teacher?

I've been finding that I'm asking this question of myself a lot lately. My goal is and always has been the same for years: I want to teach, I feel good teaching, I feel I have a purpose and that purpose has been what's driven me forward when I wanted to give up. Truly though - why do I want to be a teacher?

I could do the same style of work in other settings. I could become a tutor, self-employed or otherwise, and assist students in a specific capacity. I could be a YouTuber, creating video essays on self-researched subjects of passion. I could be a writer, bringing the same content through literature to a wholly different audience. In all of these, there is the potential to make more money, reach a wider audience, and leave a more indelible impact upon the world.

So, why am I becoming a teacher?

15 years ago, I dropped out of college, suffering depression. I wasn't the only one depressed; aside from the millions of others reeling from mental health issues, the economy was entering a recession in 2008. I was a NEET - jobless, out of school, and seemingly stuck. My family (read: my dad, stepmom, and sisters) had abandoned me - they had other matters to worry about than their wayward son - and I was fortunate my mother whom I'd dissociated from years before reached out to me. With her help, I got back on my feet, moved across the country, and began looking for work with slight hope. I volunteered one day to read at the school she worked at, and the teacher in the room went to the admins and demanded I be hired on the spot. I was.

Thus began a journey of discovery. I was good at something, and I felt good about doing it. I felt something to replace my depression and self doubt: worthiness.

Over the years, I honed my craft and continued sporadically attending school - when I could afford it - in order to become able to lead my own classroom in our private school/daycare. That was 7 years ago, and I've been teaching prek (4-5 year olds) since then. I'm able to teach reading, writing, mathematics, chess, life lessons, history, biology, astronomy, geology, entomology... the list goes on and on. I have a passion for learning, and for sharing that learning.

Is that why I am becoming a teacher?

The biggest obstacle to achieving my ultimate dream - teaching in public schools - was always the degree. I had dropped out of college twice - in 2008 and again in 2013 - before finally completing an Associates degree in 2016. I felt that, financially, getting my bachelor's would never happen. Massive student loan debt (private debt north of $30k) and low wages in childcare meant I wasn't getting anywhere. Life changes though, and the stars aligned - the private debt was written off, I got out of defaulting on my federal loans, and just in time to qualify for a state program to get me in school again and have a full ride scholarship. It was happening!

Now we live in a post-pandemic world... Do I still want to become a teacher?

At first, attitudes were siding with teachers. There was sympathy for their struggles and worries, the low pay and high barrier to entry. That quickly changed, as it did for medical workers and others in the pandemic world. Teachers struggle more now than they have before. Fewer resources, more troubled students that desperately need help, more resistance from parents and communities trying to prove that teachers and schools aren't necessary in the way they have been, and more burnout and shortages across the nation.

I see all this and yet I press on. Why?

The thing is, I'm not sure. My resolve is strong and I've been persistent and diligent in my schooling. I've worked too long and hard to give up this opportunity. Why do I still want to teach, though? Why not find an administrative job with potentially more pay and better work environment? Why not leave education altogether and use my skills elsewhere?

It comes back to what drove me forward in the first place: purpose. I feel in direct connection with the future by doing what I do. I feel like in some miniscule, imperceptible, but meaningful way, I can help create a better world tomorrow by doing what I do today. It gives my life meaning, and nobody and nothing can take that from me. I've changed hundreds, potentially thousands, of lives already. Students return years later to tell how much I meant to them - these are students I had known at ages 4 and 5 who still remember me a decade later!

So, why am I becoming a teacher?

Because someone has to do it, and that someone might as well be me. I enjoy my work, I enjoy the ups and downs, I enjoy the struggles and challenges and overcoming them, I enjoy making difficult topics understandable to young minds, I enjoy what I do even when I hate it. To me, that's love.

With good luck and a positive outlook, I'll be graduating with a degree in Early Childhood Education next September. It may not be prestigious, it may not make me a lot of money, but it will allow me to continue on the path I've set myself. Thanks for reading.

I find that while romantic relationships are quite specifically defined in our society, friendships don't seem to have the same universally understood characteristics or “road maps” for their development, so I find them interesting to discuss, especially considering the modern epidemic of loneliness many people are experiencing. Most people share the same understanding of what makes someone your romantic partner, but when does someone become your friend, vs. just an acquaintance? What makes someone a good friend or a bad friend - essentially, what can we expect from our friends, and what should we give in return?

I remember a scene from the show “Love on the Spectrum” (a reality show about people with autism in the dating world) that stuck with me. One of the people on the show explained that because he didn't understand socialization very well naturally, he had taken it upon himself to study the psychology behind it for many years, to the point where he became quite a charming and socially capable guy. I'm not autistic, but I was homeschooled up to age 14. I believe it made me quite socially stunted, and I didn't really learn how to maintain friendships until my mid 20s. Instead of learning social skills naturally over building blocks in preschool, I was reading books and journaling about it as an adult. Looking back, I no longer resent it, because being forced to work on it like a skill seems to have benefited me in the long run, and after a very lonely early life, I now have many dear friends who bring me joy.

I have a “system” of sorts that seems to work very well for me. There are three elements: consistency, vulnerability, and adaptability.

#1. Consistency

When people talk about their struggles with making or keeping friendships, this aspect is usually mentioned the most often. People are busy, schedules can get tight, and we all have a lot of things that get in the way of spending time with the people in our lives. Commonly, people aren't sure how often they should reach out to their friends, or worry that they are bothering someone who isn't interested in spending time with them. (Usually friends don't break up, after all, they just fade.) I think a lot of friendships are lost or missed because both people simply stop reaching out.

I never take it personally when I ask someone to hang out once or twice and they don't respond, or it doesn't work out. I just give it some time and try again later, at least a few times. Also, I try to reach out without requiring much time or effort from the other person, like just messaging to tell them something that reminded me of them, without scheduling anything at the moment. It also helps to learn people’s preferred communication styles - some people might never respond to texts, but enjoy casual phone calls, or visa versa. Sometimes I miss my friends but I'm way too busy to do more socializing at the time, so I schedule something weeks or months in advance.

Consistency can come in different forms, some people I see for short amounts of time each week, and others I only see a few times a year for quality time on a vacation. Both are good! Another part of consistency is making an effort to follow through on commitments - it's okay to cancel on friends a certain amount, but it's important to give notice and reschedule promptly.

#2. Vulnerability

A friendship needs consistency as a foundation, especially new ones. However, if you see someone every week and don't eventually learn personal things about each other, it can only go so far. And once you have introduced vulnerability, it can be difficult to find a balance. Many people worry about over sharing, and others struggle to recognize when they might be sharing too much. I try to match the energy of the person I'm interacting with. I don't come out swinging by mentioning my difficult religious upbringing and relationship with my parents (obviously,) instead, I ask people casual questions about their family, for example, and see what they're comfortable with sharing. When someone does share something vulnerable with me, I take note of it, and later on I tell them something of a similar nature about myself. Vulnerability is like a ladder - a ladder that is best climbed gradually.

I find that men tend to struggle with vulnerability the most (perhaps to no one's surprise,) particularly in friendships between two men. A few months ago my husband found out that his mother had relapsed, and he mentioned that he wished he had a friend to talk to whose parent was also an addict. I told him that actually, one of our friends had a father who passed away from addiction, something I knew about him despite being friends with the guy for a shorter period of time, and I said maybe he should talk to him about it. Of course, this is a sensitive topic that some friends simply don't always share with each other, which is not necessarily a bad thing. But it got me curious about the likelihood of men sharing that information with each other, compared to a man sharing it with a woman, or to a woman sharing with another woman. Men and women alike have much to gain when we share vulnerable information with each other in a healthy way.

(side note: I struggle with friendships with people who are very private, or are more likely to share after being prodded a bit. I ask questions, but I'm not likely to push someone who isn't giving a lot of information, so with shy people I sometimes struggle to bring the friendship to a closer place. Most of my closest friends are all extroverts, and I would like to figure out how to get to know my shy, quiet friends a bit better, without being invasive or too intense.)

#3. Adaptability

Where consistency is most important at the beginning of a new friendship, adaptability becomes more important later on, for the longevity of a friendship. An adaptive friendship can survive when people's interests, schedules, and circumstances change. If you know you can have a good time with someone in different environments, a friendship is more likely to survive when people move, change careers, have kids, generally grow older and more mature, etc.

A good example is the fact that I had a lot of surface-level “festival friends” or “concert friends” in my mid 20s, and despite hanging out with them consistently for years, I'm not friends with most of them anymore. This is mostly because our tastes in music or hangout spots changed, and there was nothing else tethering or deepening our friendship, so when those things changed, it ended. On the flipside, most of my closest friends today actually are people who I met at festivals or parties, but it's because I've invested in those relationships and expanded them to exist beyond the circumstances that we met under. I can lose interest in going to electronic music festivals and not worry about losing the friends that I camp with there, because I make sure to pull those friends into my normal day to day life, by going hiking, cooking dinner, getting coffee, etc. I also try to do new things with friends, so we have a shared new experience together.

Another example of adaptability is which social contexts you are in when you spend time together, as in, hanging out in group settings only, or getting together only when a mutual friend is there, vs. spending time 1:1. When I invite a friend of a friend to hang out with me without the original mutual friend, that's taking a step into a relationship that exists independently. I keep this in mind whenever one of my friends starts dating someone that I really get along with and make it a point to form my own friendship with that person, so if the relationship doesn't last, I have the opportunity to keep that person in my life.

Maybe some of these things seem like common sense or human nature, but it certainly took me a while to recognize some of them. Whenever I meet someone I really get along with, I make sure to keep these principles in mind. And when I feel myself drifting away from a good friend, I think about which of the three elements could use some attention.

What are your thoughts on cultivating quality friendships? Does it come naturally to you? Anything you struggle with in particular?

Inspired by the recent travel thread of someone asking if people were around for an in person meet up I thought I'd put one up on a more local scale. I'm not sure if ~life is the best place for it but it was my best guess.

If anyone is up for a pint or coffee in northern england it'd be nice to explore some other places nearby and meet up for one.

Anyone in another area could post their location as a top level reply as well so we don't clog the whole place up with similar threads.

Whizy Kim

The Rejuvenation Olympics, an online leaderboard launched by tech millionaire Bryan Johnson earlier this year, takes the rivalry of the rich to the next level. The game? “Reversing” your age

Link to the article

Participants compete not on physical abilities but on how quickly and by how much they can slow their “biological age.”

Competitors do this mostly by adjusting their diets (like which macronutrients and supplements they consume), being physically active, and retesting their “age” regularly. They’re not actually reverting to a more youthful version of themselves — that’s not biologically possible. Rather, these competitors are racing to see who can age the slowest; as the Rejuvenation Olympics website quips, “You win by never crossing the finish line.”

The point isn’t merely being healthy. It’s laser-precision optimization of his health.

Johnson, for example, never eats pizza or drinks alcohol. It’s simply not a part of his algorithm. “I was just a slave to myself and my passions and my emotions and my next desire,” he said in an interview with Vice Motherboard. That doesn’t mean he never stumbles, but when he does, he calls it an “infraction,” as though he has committed a minor crime.

Leaderboard

Johnson tops the Rejuvenation Olympics leaderboard; he created the game along with Oliver Zolman — who leads Johnson’s team of 30-plus doctors and other health experts — and TruDiagnostic, an epigenetics lab based in Kentucky that provides the biological age test kits that participants in the Olympics must submit. The cheaper version costs $229. The more expensive one, at $499, provides more data on your results, including how habits like smoking or drinking alcohol have impacted a person’s aging speed.

Ultramarathon

It’s a contest that participants hope never ends — the most ultra of ultramarathons. The most dedicated members in the longevity community are, in essence, spending their lives obsessing over living. Says Lustgarten: “I plan on doing this for at least the next 70-plus years.”