Chip Conley's daily blog:
Thoughts on the art of living
I’m old enough to be stupid when it comes to my relationship with treadmills (there’s even academic research on the hedonic treadmill). If I have a choice during the day between jumping on a treadmill here at our Santa Fe Rising Circle Ranch or meandering on a walk on our four square miles of nature, ...
Explore Chip Conley's insightful reflections on navigating midlife challenges with grace and resilience. His posts offer practical advice and empowering perspectives for thriving during life's pivotal transitions.
Delve into the deeply moving narratives that capture the essence of human experience. These intimate stories offer a window into life's most poignant moments and personal triumphs.
Discover the essential advice from Chip Conley that has resonated the most with readers navigating midlife transitions. Tap into a wellspring of wisdom to transform challenges into growth and newfound clarity.
I’m old enough to be stupid when it comes to my relationship with treadmills (there’s even academic research on the hedonic treadmill). If I have a choice during the day
One of those connections was Peter, a man with roots in Ukraine and a shared dedication to a cause close to both our hearts. When war broke out in Ukraine,
When it comes to money, finance and accounting, I have ideas! Ideas I love to explore, build into new systems and tools and share with others. My ideas arise from two
I’ve known about my cancer for six years and I’ve known about my proclivity for drinking for fifty years. Recently, I have, occasionally, dropped my drinking for a week or
I decided to co-found an upscale vegan restaurant, Millennium, that became a sensation as it turned out that affluent vegans were tired of their low-end, bean sprout options and wanted
I love preacher/poet/philosopher John O’Donohue and wish I’d met him before he passed three days after he turned 52. So many in the MEA community are fans of his that
It’s 1:30 pm and I’m sitting in an empty Violet Crown movie theater in Santa Fe’s Railyard. I still smell of mineral baths and I’m ready to watch a long
I get up and meditate, pondering the weighty question of whether I sneak back into the other side of the bed or wash my sheets or slink into my oversized
“I just talked to the neurologist,” my brother, a doctor, said in a crackly voice. “She’s got Alzheimer’s.” His words hit me like a truck, even though I knew their
On the final day of my five-day workshop at a ranch in Santa Fe on the new MEA campus, a midlife wisdom school, I looked around the room at my
For all kinds of reasons – immediate vs. delayed rewards, collective action problems, faulty social and political structures – we don’t prepare well for the inevitable. Our hope of adaptation
In this past weekend’s NY Times Magazine there was a gushing story called “New Mexico Is Where the Outlaw Artists Live” which became a mecca for artists a century ago
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