|
Hello Reader, If you've been reading The Lantern for a while, you've noticed I end every newsletter the same way: See you later. It's not accidental. It's not a placeholder. It's deliberate. Three days ago, I finished recording a livestream that will serve as a solo episode of the podcast. Just me and those watching, thinking out loud about intentional productivity. And as I was scripting the scaffolding of it, I realized I needed a closing line that would work across everything I do. Something that would sit at the end of podcasts, livestreams, and solo episodes. I landed on this: "Until next time, remember: stop doing productive, start being productive. See you later." That "see you later" comes from one of my favourite films about time — About Time. And the scene it comes from is worth knowing. At the end of the film, Tim is having the most important realization of his life — that he's going to stop traveling back in time altogether and just try to live every day as if he deliberately came back to it, as if it's the full final day of his extraordinary, ordinary life. And while this is happening, Mary is in the background casually calling him a lazy so-and-so for not getting the kids ready. That contrast is the whole point. The most profound lesson he's ever learned, happening in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday morning. Playing over all of it is Ben Folds' "The Luckiest." We love that song so much that we have the chorus on a print in our home. It's one of those pieces of art that just says exactly what you feel but could never quite put into words. And then the film ends. Not with a grand statement. Not with a sweeping conclusion. Just Tim, saying three words: "See you later." Not goodbye. Not farewell. Just an assumption that there's a next moment coming — and that it matters. That's the whole thing right there. Not optimization. Not productivity hacks. Not doing more. Just: what if you treated today as a day you chose? As a day worth being fully present in? That's what "see you later" carries for me. It's not a farewell. It's a reminder. Live this one deliberately. We're all traveling through this together — all we can do is do our best to relish the ride. And since we're talking about words carrying weight — I've been doing a series called One Word at a Time, where I take words that productivity culture has flattened or distorted and look at what they actually mean. Because sometimes the problem isn't the system. It's the language we've built the system around. You can find the full playlist here. Either way — see you later. — Mike |
I’m Mike Vardy, and I help people build a better relationship with time — not by controlling it, but by working with it. Through my writing, courses, and community, I explore how intention and attention shape a more meaningful life — one rooted in the original idea of productiveness over productivity.
The Lantern by Mike Vardy Vol. 2, Issue 11 | May 9, 2026 Hello Reader, You may have noticed this arrived a little later than usual. That was intentional. At 1:40pm on Friday, I got an email about something called the Mind Over Manuscript Challenge — a free 5-day writing challenge running this week through Pages & Platforms. It resonated immediately. I had something to say about it. So I wrote a broadcast email and sent it Friday evening, sharing three things that TimeCrafting gave me that...
Hello Reader,This morning my head was full. Not overwhelmed. Just... swirling. So I went for a walk. No headphones. No agenda. Just outside. I wasn't treading water out there — I was treading ground. There's a difference. Treading water keeps you from sinking. Walking actually moves you somewhere. When you're swirling or when you're stagnant, the steps you take by walking can help you recognize the next steps you must take — the ones that don't involve walking at all. You don't need long. You...
The Lantern by Mike Vardy Vol. 2, Issue 10 | May 2, 2026 Hello Reader, I've had "The Circle Game" stuck in my head for three days now. Which is fine — it's a great song. But it's been bothering me in a specific way that I can't leave alone. It's not a circle. Joni Mitchell wrote about seasons coming and going, about children becoming adults, about time spinning us around and around. The imagery is a carousel. A circle. You leave, you come back, you're where you started. Except you're not....