I used to think breathing was one of those things my body handled automatically, so there wasn't much to think about. After reading Breath by James Nestor, I started paying attention to it in a completely different way.

The book is basically an investigation into something we do all day without thinking: how we breathe. Nestor looks at the history, science, and different breathing practices around the world, and makes a simple argument: the way we breathe can have a real effect on how we sleep, feel, and function.

One of the most interesting parts was his discussion of mouth breathing. Breathing through the mouth, especially while sleeping, can affect sleep quality and the way the body handles oxygen. Nestor explains why the nose is designed to do much more than simply let air in. It filters, warms, and humidifies the air, and plays a role in producing nitric oxide.

I also liked the section about breathing slowly. Nestor discusses research around slower breathing and how it can influence the nervous system, heart rate, and stress levels. I tried some of the breathing exercises while reading the book, and that made the ideas feel much more practical than simply reading about them.

The book also goes into how our lifestyles and diets may have changed the development of our jaws and airways. The connection between softer modern foods, reduced chewing, and changes in facial structure was something I had never really thought about before.

What I liked most is that the subject sounds ordinary, but Nestor makes you notice something you've probably never paid attention to. You don't have to agree with every claim in the book to get something from it. For me, the main takeaway was simple: sometimes improving something as basic as breathing is worth paying attention to.

For a long time, I thought overthinking was simply part of my personality.

I would replay conversations long after they were over, imagine how future conversations might go, and spend far too much time trying to make the "right" decision. Even small choices could turn into something I kept thinking about for days.

Then I read The Courage to Be Disliked by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga.

The book is based on Adlerian psychology, and one of the things I liked most about it was that it didn't treat overthinking in the usual way. Instead of looking at it only as something caused by anxiety or insecurity, it made me question what I was actually getting from all that thinking.

Three ideas from the book stayed with me.

Separation of tasks.

A lot of the thoughts that keep us stuck are not really about the decision itself. They're about imagining what everyone else will think once we make it.

You decide to do something, and immediately your mind starts running through every possible reaction. What if they disagree? What if they think I'm making a mistake? What if they don't like it?

Adler's idea is to separate these things. Your decision belongs to you. Someone else's reaction belongs to them.

That sounds obvious when you read it, but I started noticing how often I was taking responsibility for things I had no control over. Once I stopped mixing the two together, many of those thought loops simply became less important.

Look at what the behavior is doing, not just where it came from.

We're naturally drawn to questions like, "Why am I like this?"

Why do I keep overthinking?
Why am I afraid of making the wrong choice?
Why do I care so much about what people think?

Adlerian psychology puts more attention on the purpose behind the behavior.

That changed the way I looked at my own overthinking. Instead of trying to find the perfect explanation for why I had developed the habit, I started asking what the habit was helping me avoid.

The answer wasn't difficult to find. Thinking everything through gave me a way to delay situations where I might be judged or get something wrong.

As long as I was still analyzing the decision, I didn't have to deal with the uncertainty that came after making it.

Change doesn't have to wait for the perfect moment.

Another idea I kept thinking about was Adler's view of the past.

We often assume that before we can change something about ourselves, we need to understand exactly why we became that way. The book challenges that assumption. Your past can influence the patterns you develop, but it doesn't automatically decide what you do next.

I found that surprisingly encouraging.

You don't have to spend years trying to "fix" yourself before you can start behaving differently. Sometimes you can simply recognize a pattern, understand what it is doing for you, and make a different choice the next time it appears.

The book itself is written as a conversation between a philosopher and a young man who keeps challenging him. That makes it very easy to read, although some of the ideas take longer to digest.

I've gone back to it more than once, and different parts have stood out at different times.

If you've started thinking of overthinking as something permanent
just another part of your personality
"The Courage to Be Disliked "
gives you a different way to look at it.

You may not be stuck with it as much as you think.

For as long as I can remember, I kept hearing the same advice: figure out what you love, follow your passion, and everything else will eventually fall into place.

I heard it from teachers, career advisors, motivational speakers, family members, and practically everyone who asked me what I wanted to do with my life. It always sounded logical.

Then I read Cal Newport's So Good They Can't Ignore You.

His argument is that the whole "follow your passion" idea leaves out one of the most important parts of building a fulfilling career. In many cases, people don't become passionate about their work first and then become successful. They become highly skilled at something, and that process eventually makes them passionate about it.

That completely flipped my perspective.

Newport separates this into two ways of thinking: the passion mindset and the craftsman mindset.

The passion mindset focuses on what a career can provide for you: Is this fulfilling? Do I enjoy it? Is this really what I want?

The craftsman mindset turns the question around: What can I contribute? What can I become exceptionally good at?

That second approach allows you to build what Newport calls career capital valuable and uncommon skills that give you more control over what you do, where you work, and how you work.

You don't simply discover a great career. You gradually create the ability to have one.

Another part of the book that really stood out to me was Newport's explanation of why people eventually become satisfied with their work.

It isn't necessarily because they found the perfect subject or industry.

A fulfilling career tends to come from three things: autonomy, competence, and relatedness.

Having control over your time and decisions. Becoming genuinely capable at something worthwhile. And having meaningful relationships and connections with other people.

The interesting part is that none of these things usually appear just because you "follow your feelings."

You have to build enough value and expertise to earn them.

Newport also talks about what he calls courage culture — the constant online advice telling people to quit their jobs, take the leap, bet everything on themselves, and figure things out later.

His point is that courage by itself isn't enough.

If you haven't developed useful skills or built something valuable, quitting everything isn't necessarily bravery. It can simply leave you with fewer choices.

Build the skills first. Create leverage. Then take the leap when you actually have something to fall back on.

After reading this, I stopped asking myself, "What am I passionate about?"

Instead, I started asking:

"What am I willing to become exceptionally good at?"

That's a much more useful question.

And honestly, it changes how you approach your entire career.

If you want another book that explores the same idea from a different angle, Mastery by Robert Greene is a great follow-up. It goes deeper into how exceptional people developed uncommon skills through years of practice, mentorship, and deliberate learning.