By: Eric Markowitz | Director of Research & Managing Partner
In August, our second daughter was born.
She’s three-and-a-half months old now, and holding her makes me think about the kind of life I want for her—and what I want to teach her. She’s a daily reminder to slow down, notice the small things, and reflect on what matters.
Writing these 10 lessons forced me to pause, take stock, and wrestle with the year.
This type of reflection doesn’t come necessarily naturally for me. But writing—especially for others—makes it non-negotiable. Perhaps you might find some inspiration in these ideas, too.
- Look up at the trees more often.
My three-year-old daughter loves to look at trees. She’ll stop mid-walk, point to the branches swaying above, and say something like, “Look at the leaves dancing.” She notices everything: the way light filters through the branches, the colors that shift with the seasons, even the patterns in the bark.
I’ve walked past trees my whole life without really seeing them. I never paid attention to the way they move or the quiet life they hold. But watching her, I’ve realized how much is hiding in plain sight—waiting for someone to notice. Life rarely demands your attention in obvious ways.
Kids have a way of teaching us the simplest lessons: pay attention to the world around you. Look up. See what you’ve been missing.
- Walk more.
This year, I walked a lot—some months averaging over 15,000 steps a day. It started as vestibular therapy, part of my recovery plan earlier in the year. But it became something more.
Walking wasn’t just physical; it was mental. The rhythm of footsteps untangled my thoughts. It gave me time to think, brainstorm, and let ideas rise to the surface. Thoreau once said “every walk a every walk is a sort of crusade.” I think that’s true.
Creativity doesn’t respond to force: it needs space to wander. Walking, for me, created that space. It’s simple—almost too simple—but it works. When I was stuck or stale, I put on my shoes and moved. Some of my best ideas came mid-stride, often when I wasn’t even looking for them.
If you find that your ideas aren’t good enough—walk more.
- Meet in person whenever you can.
This year, I’ve come to believe that the value of meeting face-to-face is becoming exponentially more important as the world becomes more digital.
After three years of Zoom calls, being in the room—really being there—felt like a breath of fresh air.
Some of my favorite moments this year happened in person: in Omaha, Virginia, New York, and Chicago. Conversations flowed differently. Ideas sparked. Relationships deepened. Drinks were had.
The more digital life becomes, the more irreplaceable real human connection feels.
- Optimism is a choice, not a state of being.
When I spoke with Kevin Kelly for Big Think in October, he said something that’s stayed with me: optimism isn’t blind faith—it’s a discipline. It’s not about ignoring hard realities or pretending everything will magically work out. It’s about believing that the future can be better—and, crucially, that you have a role in shaping it.
This year, I learned that optimism is active. It requires effort. Sometimes it’s easier to lean into doubt, to assume the worst, to protect yourself by lowering expectations. But as Kevin pointed out, pessimism doesn’t create opportunities—optimism does.
- We need to become more right-brained—and embrace intuition.
Right now, we’re stuck focusing on what’s fast, measurable, and rational—a trap of the left brain. This year, my friend Tom Morgan—building on Iain McGilchrist’s work—showed me how our world has become too analytical, too fragmented, and too focused on left-brain thinking.
The right brain sees things differently. It’s intuitive and creative. It embraces uncertainty. It leaves space for intuition—for true depth over surface data. As my friend Josh Tarasoff said in an essay earlier this year: “It strikes me that intuition is a fundamental dimension of the mind, and it is likely healthier and more effective to tame and utilize it than to suppress or ignore it.”
- Learn to think in systems.
At the start of the year, I began to think more in systems—how everything is connected, but not everything moves at the same speed. I’ve been influenced by Stewart Brand’s concept of pace layers, which describes how different parts of a system—whether it’s nature, culture, or a business—evolve over time.
In business, some layers are fast and reactive—like markets or product launches. Others, like company values or long-term strategy, move much slower. The fast layers get all the attention because they’re urgent and noisy. But the slow layers—things like trust, culture, and leadership—are what hold everything together.
Understanding this has changed the way I think. When something feels chaotic or stuck, I ask: What layer am I looking at? Is this a short-term issue, or something deeper that needs more time? This shift has helped me prioritize what matters most—and recognize that real progress comes from aligning the fast with the slow.
- Things take longer than you realize.
This year, I’ve realized we overestimate what can be done in a day and underestimate what can be achieved in a year. This year, I saw how powerful consistency can be. I sent out 52 Nightcrawler newsletters this year—one every week, without fail. Learning in public forced me to think more clearly, sharpen my arguments, and engage with others who pushed my thinking even further.
Over time, small weekly efforts compound into something bigger: a growing community of people. Progress rarely feels fast, but it’s steady. I’ve learned that the real breakthroughs come from persistence, not perfection. A little done consistently beats a lot done sporadically. Keep showing up, and let time do its work.
- Mentors expand what’s possible.
This year, I learned how important mentors can be. Most of mine are older—people whose experience and perspective help me see farther than I could on my own. Their advice has been a steady hand when I’ve needed it most.
But mentors don’t always have to be years ahead of you. Some of the best guidance I’ve gotten this year came from friends and peers—people who ask good questions, challenge my thinking, and make me better just by being in my corner.
- We overweight risk—and underweight exponential outcomes.
At a conference recently, Jeff Bezos said something that stuck with me: “People overestimate risk and underestimate opportunity. Failure is often the cost of innovation.”
I’ve seen this play out in my own life and work. The best decisions I’ve made—whether in investing, writing, or launching our fund—came from recognizing asymmetry: limited downside, massive upside. But flipping that equation isn’t always easy. Our brains are wired to focus on what could go wrong. We magnify risk, playing out worst-case scenarios in our heads, until fear keeps us frozen.
- Send the cold email.
This year reminded me how much serendipity comes from simply… reaching out. I emailed the CEO of Big Think to say how much I loved the site—no agenda, just genuine appreciation. That email turned into conversations, and eventually, the column I now write.
It’s the journalist in me, I think. I’ve never been afraid to email strangers, and I’ve learned that most people are far more open than you’d expect. Cold emails might feel uncomfortable, but they can open doors you didn’t even know existed. Sometimes, all it takes is a few sentences to change the trajectory of your life or work. Don’t overthink it. Send the email.
Bonus lesson: You’re already in heaven.
Jim Lovell once said, “You don’t go to heaven when you die, you go to heaven when you’re born.”
That thought has stayed with me.
Happy 2025.
The opinions expressed herein are those of Nightview Capital and are subject to change without notice. The opinions referenced are as of the date of publication, may be modified due to changes in the market or economic conditions, and may not necessarily come to pass. Forward-looking statements cannot be guaranteed. This is not a recommendation to buy, sell, or hold any particular security. There is no assurance that any securities discussed herein will remain in an account’s portfolio at the time you receive this report or that securities sold have not been repurchased. It should not be assumed that any of the securities transactions, holdings or sectors discussed were or will be profitable, or that the investment recommendations or decisions Nightview Capital makes in the future will be profitable or equal the performance of the securities discussed herein. Nightview Capital reserves the right to modify its current investment strategies and techniques based on changing market dynamics or client needs. Recommendations made in the last 12 months are available upon request.
