Welcome to Verstreuen—meaning “to scatter”—where I unpack the ideas I’ve collected this week in my 🗃️ Zettelkasten, “note box,” personal knowledge management system. Here, I’ll share the highlights, insights, and stories I find interesting—and think you will too!

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🗃️ This Week’s Highlights

This week's notes come from 11 new additions to the Zettelkasten—here’s the three that stood out most to share with you:

🟨 The Car as a Life Framework — Designing your life like a vehicle.

🟦 Boredom as Clarity — Three responses, and which one scales.

🟥 Makers & Completers — A simple lens for better relationships and teamwork.

Purpose is fuel. Without it, nothing moves.

I was watching a Johnny Harris video the other day where he used a simple car analogy:
Purpose is the fuel. Attention the headlights.

The analogy stuck with me.
Not just because it was so illustrative—
but because it pointed to something I hadn’t fully articulated.

If purpose is fuel, then the real question isn’t:
“How do I stay motivated?”
It’s:
“What fuel am I running on?”

More often than not, the answer is: borrowed fuel.

You get it from a boss. A brand. A trend. A deadline. A feed.
It gets you moving, sure—but it burns fast.

And the moment the source disappears, so does your momentum.

As I sat with this metaphor longer, something clicked into place.

It reminded me of something I’d only half-understood in Eastern philosophy—wu wei ("effortless action")
which comes not from striving or external validation, but from being aligned with your inner nature and the natural flow of life

Not chasing meaning.
But generating it.

That’s the shift:
Self-generated purpose.

Not reactive.
Not borrowed.
But rooted.

It’s quieter. Slower.
But it doesn’t vanish when the Wi-Fi goes out or the feedback stops.
Because it doesn’t depend on anything external.

I’m still working on what this internal purpose means to me—
but having a framework for it changes the way I move through the world.

It shifts the question from:
“What should I be doing?”
to:
“What’s actually mine to do?”

Because once you stop chasing borrowed fuel
and start tending your own purpose—
you stop waiting to be fueled.
You start becoming the source.

—🗃️—

In Johnny Harris’s video, boredom is described as what happens when your fuel tank of purpose runs dry and your headlights of attention go dark.
You’re in a car, in the dark, with no direction and no drive.

But the most powerful insight wasn’t just the metaphor.
It was this: boredom is a signal—not that you have nothing to do, but that your brain knows you could be doing more.

It’s not the absence of activity.
It’s the presence of underused capacity.

You’re not empty.
You’re misaligned.

So when the fuel runs low and your vision narrows—you’ve got three ways to respond:

1. Sadism: Burn the House Down to Feel Alive

In studies, bored people were more likely to harm others, troll online, or even zap themselves with pain—just to escape the discomfort.
That’s the first route: turn the key with rage. Destruction as fast fuel.
Cruelty gives you a plot. It gives you attention. But it’s synthetic purpose—and it always leaves wreckage.

You feel alive for a moment, but you’re not steering. The fire is.

2. Cruise Control: Drift Through Distraction

Scrolling, binging, snacking—this path gives you just enough stimulation to numb the discomfort without addressing it.
It powers the car forward… but your headlights are off. Your attention isn’t on the road. It’s on the feed.

Cruise control isn’t evil. Sometimes you need it. But if there’s a tree ahead and no one’s looking? You won’t see it in time.

And worse: the longer you stay on cruise control, the leakier your fuel tank becomes.
You need more and more distraction to feel less and less boredom.

3. Construction: Push the Car Toward Purpose

The hard path—and the one worth taking.
Sit with the discomfort.
Ask yourself: When did I last feel fully engaged?
Not busy. Not entertained. But meaningfully engaged.

Then, put in some manual effort to get back toward that thing—an old hobby, a walk in nature, a conversation, a project—and push your car in that direction.
At first, it’s difficult. You’re pushing uphill.
But eventually, the engine starts back up with a renewed purpose. Your attention returns. The fuel starts to rise.

This route doesn’t just bring relief.
It builds mental fortitude.
The next time you break down, you remember where to move again.

The Takeaway?

Boredom isn’t a void. It’s a signal.
Unused potential can be weaponized. Numbed. Or mined.

The car might be quiet.
But it’s not broken.
It’s waiting for you to choose what’s worth driving toward.

—🗃️—

Every shared experience needs two kinds of energy:

Makers start things.
Completers meet them.

Makers initiate—spark the idea, draft up a joke, send the text.
Completers respond—show up fully, deepen the moment, turn the joke into a recurring bit.

We often celebrate the spark—initiative, boldness, originality.
But sparks without oxygen fade fast.
An idea only becomes meaningful when someone encounters it and brings it to life.

A sticker that has turned into a group chat meme
A youtube series that turns into an evening ritual
A hidden sticky note that signifies a much needed hug

Completion isn’t passive.
It’s participation.
It’s how something becomes real in the shared space between people.

Relationships are co-created.
Built—moment by moment.

If one person always leads while the other always follows, imbalance builds.
But when both can initiate and respond, something richer forms:

Not just more interaction—more meaning.

Connection deepens when we can do both.

• If you’re a natural maker:
  Practice staying with what you’ve started.
  Let others lead. Add depth without needing to redirect.

• If you’re a natural completer:
  Initiate. Propose the plan.
  Create space for others to meet your invitation.

Because the most meaningful things we experience…
aren’t made alone.
They’re co-created in the moments together.

—🗃️—

Closing Thoughts

This week began with a simple metaphor:
Purpose is fuel. Attention is headlights.

But sit with it a little longer, and something deeper reveals itself:

It’s not just what you fuel your life with.
It’s where you point the headlights—
and who flashes theirs back.

Because clarity isn’t only internal. It’s relational.

Purpose becomes real when it meets resistance.
Boredom fades when attention connects with meaning.
Moments come alive not when they’re created—
but when they’re received.

That’s the thread running through it all:
Meaning isn’t solitary. It’s shared.

Thanks for reading Verstreuen! 👋 Until next week -GH