Masque · The Reading List

Book 1 · Getting Things Done

Translation, not transformation: externalize intuition into visible next actions — in tolerable chunks.

You’re not broken; the environment changed. Your brain was built for berries and tigers, not Jira and Slack. That’s why you feel scattered—and why there’s a sane way through it.
One pipe for everything. Stop inventing a new hack for every mess. Work, home, ideas—run it all through a single, trusted flow and the chaos starts organizing itself.
Make your imagination work on command. You already “see” finished things in your head. This turns that daydream into a repeatable sequence you can start anytime.
Build a cockpit, not a shrine. A clean surface, one capture tool, lists you trust, and a small standing time slot. It’s wiring the instruments so takeoff is calm.
Free your RAM. The relief isn’t from finishing everything—it’s from parking everything where you know you’ll come back to it.
Decide, don’t stash. Stress is mostly “undecided stuff.” Clear the intake and the windshield clears with it.
Clear buckets kill hesitation. When everything has a home, your brain stops asking “where does this go?” and starts moving.
Keep lists alive with a reset. Without a simple weekly sweep, lists turn into zombies. A quick reset brings the map back to the territory.
Match action to the moment. No more guilt about “big rocks” at 10 pm. Use a simple filter to pick what fits the slot you’re in.
Name the next move and watch the fog lift. “Fix the docs” is quicksand. “Open the draft and outline sections” is traction.
Capture it all or second-guess it all. Trust shows up when every stray thought—from cat litter to launch plan—lands in the same net.
Work toward a finish line, not a feeling. “Router reset and online, lights stable” beats “work on router.” A clear end state turns drudgery into progress.

If this resonates with you, buy the book and read it.

Book 2 · Atomic Habits

Tiny moves, compounding over time. Identity first, outcomes second. Build an environment that makes the right thing the easy thing—and let consistency do the heavy lifting.

Win by 1%—repeated. You don’t need heroics; you need small, repeatable moves that compound into something huge.
Change your identity, not just your checklist. Don’t “finish a rewrite”—be the kind of writer who shows up. Habits are votes for who you are.
See the loop, then shape it. Every habit runs cue → craving → response → reward. Once you notice the wiring, you can edit it.
Spot the trigger. Most slips are autopilot. Name the cue (time, place, mood, people) and you stop flying blind.
Attach the new to the known. “After X, I do Y.” Habit stacking and tiny intentions make starts frictionless.
Let the room do the work. Good cues obvious, bad cues invisible. Design spaces that steer you without effort.
Real self-control is setup. Remove temptations upfront so you don’t need midnight willpower.
Make it feel good now. Pair habits with immediate rewards and small wins—motivation loves quick feedback.
Borrow a better normal. Join tribes where your target behavior is standard; culture pulls you forward.
Debug the need, not just the habit. Every “bad” habit solves a problem. Keep the reward, swap in a better response.
Show up beats speed. Never miss twice. Traction comes from consistency, not perfect days.
Bend the path of least resistance. Lower friction for good habits, raise it for bad ones; convenience wins every time.
Start in two minutes. Shrink entry points until starting is effortless—momentum will take it from there.
Automate your better self. Commit devices, reminders, filters—install guardrails so the system helps you behave.
Track what you treasure. Streaks and visible progress keep habits alive; your brain craves proof.
Play where you have leverage. Aim habits at your natural strengths so discipline gets a tailwind.
Live in the Goldilocks zone. Keep challenges “stretch but doable”—too easy bores you, too hard breaks you.
Refactor routines before they fossilize. Habits are a foundation, not a prison—review and refresh to keep growing.

If this clicks, buy the book—the full method lives there.

Book 3 · Deep Work

Quiet intensity on purpose. Depth is rare and valuable—so you schedule it, defend it, and turn it into visible artifacts while the shallow stuff lives on a budget.

Depth is your leverage. In a noisy economy, the ability to focus is a competitive edge most people never train.
Focus doesn’t “show up”—you schedule it. If it isn’t on the calendar, shallow wins by default.
One target per block. Pick a single outcome for the session, remove friction (door, notifications, status), and start.
Choose a style that fits your life. Long retreats, weekly chunks, daily rhythms, or seize-the-moment sprints—the point is consistency, not one “right” philosophy.
Train boredom tolerance. The urge to switch is the muscle to train; resisting it is a rep toward deeper focus.
Be ruthless about inputs. Keep tools and feeds that earn their keep; quit the ones that don’t pay rent in results.
Drain the shallows. Batch low-value tasks, time-box them, and keep a visible budget so they don’t swallow your day.
Rituals are your runway. Simple start cues and a shutdown ritual protect attention and create repeatable takeoff/landing.
Ship proof, not vibes. End each block with an artifact—draft, commit, diagram—so progress is tangible.
Defend your fortress politely. Use status messages, office hours, and norms so people know when you’re heads-down.
Make depth the default meaning. Shallow work is necessary; deep work is satisfying. Optimize your week for the latter.

If this resonates with you, buy the book; there's so much more there for everyone.

Book 4 · Thinking, Fast and Slow

Two minds share your steering wheel: a fast, fluent autopilot and a slow, effortful pilot. This book taught me to spot the shortcuts, catch the traps, and route high-stakes calls through the right system.

Catch your autopilot. Most errors start in fast, intuitive mode. Notice it, and you can invite deliberate mode when it matters.
Budget attention like fuel. Thinking hard burns energy; save the deep focus for complex or consequential work.
Fluent ≠ true. If it feels smooth and obvious, double-check—ease of reading isn’t evidence.
Ask the right question. The mind loves to swap hard questions for easier ones. Stop and confirm what you’re actually answering.
Break the anchor. First numbers and examples drag judgment. Reset baselines before deciding.
Vivid ≠ likely. Dramatic stories distort risk; use data, not headlines, to weigh danger and reward.
Use base rates, not vibes. Prototypes feel right; probabilities are right. Start with the base rate, then adjust.
Don’t fall for the “and.” The appealing story (“bank teller and activist”) is usually less probable than the plain fact.
Expect regression. Hot streaks cool and slumps rebound—plan for averages to pull you back.
Forecast humbly. Confidence isn’t accuracy. Prefer ranges, scenarios, and updates over bold single bets.
Design for loss aversion. Losses loom larger than gains—frame choices so progress feels like avoiding loss as well as winning.
Beware the endowment effect. Ownership inflates value. Test decisions as if you didn’t already own the thing.
Make policies, not one-offs. Single decisions are bias-magnets; simple rules beat case-by-case wrangling.
Mind the frame. Same facts, different wording, different choices. Rephrase until the math—not the phrasing—drives you.
Serve both selves. The remembering self edits life to peaks and endings. Plan experiences for living well and remembering well.
Chase attention, not just income. Beyond “enough,” presence moves the needle on daily happiness more than dollars.

If this resonates, buy the book—the experiments and explanations live there.

Book 5 · The One Thing

Find the lever that moves the week. Ask a better daily question, line up your dominoes, and protect the one block that makes everything else easier—or unnecessary.

Find the lever, not the pile. You don’t need more effort; you need the one action that tilts the whole system.
Ask a better question daily. “What’s the one thing I can do that makes everything else easier or unnecessary?”—then actually answer it.
Make a success list, not a to-do list. Most tasks are noise. Keep the few that move the needle and let the rest wait.
Time-block the crown jewel. Put your One Thing on the calendar first and guard it like a meeting with payroll attached.
Domino your work. Do the first small piece that knocks over the next—momentum does more than motivation.
Say “no” to serve the big “yes.” Every new “yes” taxes the One Thing. Defaults matter: decline by default, opt-in with intent.
Goal-set to now. Work backward from the target: someday → 5-year → 1-year → this month → this week → today → right now.
Protect the block with a halo. Status message on, door closed, notifications off—make interruption expensive.
Measure by results, not activity. Busy isn’t progress. Look for artifacts you can point to at the end of the block.
Expect some chaos. When you prioritize the One Thing, other stuff wobbles. Let it wobble—on purpose.
Engineer your environment. People, tools, and space should nudge you toward the One Thing, not away from it.
Energy is a prerequisite. Sleep, food, and movement aren’t “nice to haves”; they power the block you’re defending.
Make it visible. Keep the One Thing written where you decide—calendar titles, desk card, menu bar—it should stalk your attention.
One block, every workday. Consistency beats heroic bursts. A modest, defended block outperforms sporadic marathons.
Extraordinary is sequential, not simultaneous. Big outcomes stack from focused streaks—one thing at a time.

If this hits home, buy the book —the focusing question and full method can be found there.

Book 6 · Essentialism

Do less, better. Trade noise for clarity, prune by design, and build a life where your best work gets your best hours.

Choose on purpose. Life will volunteer you for a thousand “maybes.” Essentialism is the art of deliberate “yes” and graceful “no.”
Say no to the good to protect the great. If it isn’t a near 10/10, it’s a no. The vital few need unshared oxygen.
Make space to think. Clarity doesn’t arrive in a Slack ping. Create quiet—walks, pages, whiteboard time—so priorities surface.
Name your Essential Intent. A clear, audacious “why/what” turns every decision into a simple alignment check.
Edit your life like a pro. Cut entire scenes, not just lines. Elimination beats micro-optimization.
Trade-offs aren’t failures; they’re strategy. Choosing one thing means not choosing another—own that math and move forward.
Design default “no.” Templates, scripts, and boundaries let you decline quickly without drama.
Protect the asset. Sleep, food, movement. Energy is the multiplier that makes “less, but better” possible.
Buffer for the real world. Add slack to timelines and calendars; reality always taxes perfection.
One decision, many actions. Decide once—then let rules (not willpower) run the play: office hours, meeting caps, email windows.
Remove the obstacle. Make the essential path effortless and the nonessential path awkward; environment is policy.
Schedule the essentials first. Put the highest contribution block on the calendar and guard it like payroll.
Small wins, visible progress. Momentum comes from finishing meaningful chunks, not juggling more tasks.
Stand firm, kindly. A clear “no” with a brief reason earns respect and keeps trust with your future self.
Live it, don’t perform it. Essentialism is a way of being, not a tactic—less, but better, across work and home.

If this resonates, buy the book—the full discipline lives there.

Book 7 · Behave

Behavior isn’t a moment—it’s a stack of moments. Milliseconds of neural spikes, minutes of hormones, days of context, years of development, and millennia of evolution—all pushing on the same lever. Learn the stack, and you can change the output with compassion and control.

Think in time layers. What you do now was biased seconds, hours, and years ago. Read the stack before you judge the moment.
State beats story. Hungry, stressed, or sleep-deprived? Hormones and fatigue tilt perception and impulse long before “willpower” shows up.
Use your brake pedal. Prefrontal cortex is a feedback loop, not a slogan—breathing, pausing, and labeling the feeling give it traction over amygdala surges.
Design the baseline. Sleep, food, movement, and sunlight lower noise in the system—better state, better choices.
Yesterday leaks into today. Wins, losses, conflict, and sleep debt linger in your chemistry. Plan high-stakes work after recovery, not after chaos.
Adolescence is biology, not just attitude. Risk, peers, and planning are still wiring; expect volatility and coach the brake pedal, not just the gas.
Early life sets thresholds. Trauma and nurture tune stress reactivity for decades. You’re not doomed—but the dials aren’t at zero.
Genes are levers, not scripts. Nature loads the dice; experience throws them. Your setup isn’t your fate.
Culture writes on biology. Norms, language, and roles change hormones and wiring. Choose tribes that make the person you want to be feel “normal.”
Regulate before you reason. When flooded, don’t debate—downshift: breathe, move, splash water, step outside, then decide.
Name it to tame it. “I’m amped,” “I’m anxious,” “I’m tired.” Labeling state reduces its grip and buys you options.
Engineer anti-triggers. Remove cues that light you up; add rituals that cool you down. Environment beats heroic restraint.
Swap the reward, keep the need. Every “bad” behavior solves a problem (stress, boredom, connection). Meet the need with a better response.
Lead with framing. How choices are presented changes behavior. Frame for shared goals, not threats; watch the group follow.
Justice needs context. Accountability matters, but biology and circumstance complicate blame. Design systems that prevent harm, not just punish it.
Op-amp mindset. Stop asking “who’s broken?” and start adjusting gain and feedback: dial down noise, boost regulation, and the output improves.

If this hits, buy the book—the science and stories live there.

Book 8 · The Mediterranean Diet

Food as focus fuel. This isn’t a calorie spreadsheet—it’s an abundant, delicious way to eat that steadies energy, lifts mood, and compounds long-term health.

Eat abundantly, feel lighter. It’s not restriction; it’s plates built from plants, grains, legumes, and olive oil that keep you steady instead of spiking and crashing.
Swap, don’t suffer. Butter → olive oil, red meat → fish or poultry, dessert → fruit and yogurt. Small swaps, outsized wins.
Let your kitchen set the defaults. Stock beans, greens, grains, nuts, and good oil—when the pantry is right, good choices become automatic.
Flavor over rules. Herbs, citrus, garlic, and spices do the heavy lifting; you eat better because it tastes better.
Portable, not precious. Works anywhere—shop your local store, not a specialty aisle. It’s a pattern, not a passport stamp.
Make plants the base layer. Build meals on vegetables + whole grains + olive oil; layer fish, poultry, eggs, and fermented dairy a few times a week.
“Sometimes” foods stay special. Red meat and sweets aren’t banned—they’re occasional. That’s how treats stay fun and health stays stable.
Optional wine, never random. If you drink, keep it moderate and with meals—or skip it entirely. Ritual, not impulse.
Walk it in. Daily movement and post-meal strolls turn good food into better physiology—focus improves when the body is calm.
Eat with people. Slow, shared meals reduce stress and curb overeating; community is part of the recipe.
Cook simple, cook often. Five-ingredient staples (lentil soup, Greek salad, grilled fish) beat takeout for speed, cost, and clarity.
Plan once, glide all week. A short list and a loose plan (beans, greens, grains) removes 6pm decision fatigue.
Environment beats 8pm willpower. Keep fruit and nuts visible; hide junk off the counter. The room nudges your choices.
Backed by decades, not hype. Heart, brain, and metabolic benefits aren’t a fad—this pattern has serious evidence behind it.

If this resonates, buy the book—the recipes and rationale live there.