Classy Problems is a daily post of thinking in motion by Dan T. Rogers. Each post stands alone as a thought-provoking piece, yet together, they create a puzzle of ideas. They invite you to see things from a different angle, rethink what you thought you knew, and explore what’s beyond your current understanding.
Classy isn’t just a read: it’s a practice. Read, listen, and join us for Classy Problems Live, a 15-minute, live virtual conversation held Monday through Thursday at 12:15 p.m. PT, where we gather to reflect on the Classy Problems post of the day. No need to prep. Just connect, explore, and reflect.
Hollowed Space
You share your ache.
I match it.
I know that feeling.
I’ve been there too.
I’m in it right now.
That wasn’t connection.
That was a reflex.
To not feel what I was feeling
about what you were feeling.
I thought I was relating.
I was performing.
That was my first version.
The one
that stops my pain
or tops your pain
or makes it mutual.
It looks like empathy.
It feels like ego.
That became objectionable.
Something else was indicated.
I learned how to perform concern.
Especially when others were watching.
Soft tone.
Right words.
Earnest face.
That version made me feel better.
Like I was evolving.
It felt good.
What a performance.
It was a good performance.
More generous.
Less self-centered.
It wasn’t.
I wasn’t.
I’m not.
I was hiding it better.
Hiding it with practiced kindness.
With affected tone of voice.
It was progress.
I was hollow.
I couldn’t be with your ache
without making it about mine.
I wanted space.
I kept filling it.
With my discomfort.
With my stories.
I wanted to be held.
I was being asked to hold.
I didn’t like that part.
I wasn’t willing to stand beside someone else
without stealing the moment.
I had to see that.
Had to feel that.
Had to earn that.
Layer by layer.
Layer after layer.
Each time I uncover a version that looks kind,
I discover it’s about control.
Control the discomfort.
Make it about my discomfort.
Control the moment.
Make it about my moment.
Another time, another layer.
Trying to get closer to a capacity.
To hold space.
Missing the Delusion
One way another
I am always missing the delusion.
I mean I miss it.
Literally.
Metaphorically.
Viscerally.
I miss the way it organized chaos.
The way it made me feel.
The way it gave me something to believe in.
It was a lie.
It was my lie.
It is a story I told myself
that solved a classy problem.
That predicted my progress.
That made sense of my ache.
That made me believable.
The elegance of a delusion
is that I don’t know.
I don’t know it isn’t true.
Not yet.
Self-deception
without awareness.
The story was working.
The story is working.
Or at least, it was doing something.
It was helping me hold it together.
Until it didn’t.
Until I couldn’t.
Until truth showed up.
Cleaner.
Sharper.
More clarity.
That’s the part that hurts.
Not the loss of what was.
The loss of what I thought it was.
I don’t want to go back.
I miss who I thought I was there.
Who I believed you were there.
What I thought this was going to become.
That version is gone.
I’m grateful for the truth.
It will be different.
Trust that it will be better.
I miss the lie.
Giving on a Loan
Giving isn’t about how I feel.
It’s about what’s here to give.
It’s about what I am here to give.
It’s nice when I want to.
It’s fun when I feel like it.
If that’s the only time I give
that seems more like
a strategy for a transaction,
an offer for approval.
When I do that
I am not giving,
I’m trading.
Giving is for fun.
For free.
No strings attached.
When it’s indicated.
When I know it matters.
When I know someone wants it.
When I want something,
I will do anything to get it.
I forget what that like.
When you want something.
I have.
That thing I’m holding.
That energy.
That attention.
That demonstration.
It’s not mine to keep.
If I believe everything
is on loan from theboss
then giving isn’t an offer.
It’s a transfer of something
that I was trusted to hold.
I’m not giving to be good.
I’m giving because I’ve been trusted with it.
Trusted to notice.
Trusted to share.
Trusted to trust.
Not only when it feels good.
Not only when I’m in the mood.
When it’s indicated.
What is Indicated
Indicated doesn’t check if I’m ready.
Or if I agree.
Or if I feel like it.
Or if I want to.
Indicated is.
Indicated is a direction that arrives
before the explanation.
Clarity with and without comfort.
Knowing what to do without knowing why.
That’s the game.
That’s the ache.
That’s the work.
That’s redeeming work.
Sometimes what’s indicated
doesn’t align with what I want.
My opinions?
Not required.
My preferences?
Already accounted for.
That’s the benefit and the cost
of being in relationship with theboss.
My desire has been considered.
The direction is different.
It’s not a punishment.
It’s not a mystery.
It’s an opportunity for alignment.
Indication is what surfaces
when I’m willing to pay attention
to my attention.
When I am willing to pay for with my attention.
Attention is the most valuable gift given.
Or received.
I can trust what captured it.
I can follow where it points.
Even when it pulls me
away from certainty.
Away from comfort.
Away from what I thought I signed up for.
Indicated is above my pay grade.
That’s the point.
My job is not to question the source.
My job is to listen,
to reflect,
to do what’s indicated.
Even when I don’t know why.
Especially then.
My Preference is to Judge
I judge.
I don’t want to pretend I don’t.
That would be another kind of performance.
The goal to be neutral, non-judgmental, peaceful.
In the enlightened state.
Living above it all.
My version of that of peace was spiritual make believe.
If judging is so bad why do I do it?
How does it serve me?
It’s a function.
Of awareness.
Of attention.
Of intention.
My mistake isn’t judging.
My mistake is a lack of awareness to what I am judging.
Deluding myself that I’ve risen above my preferences.
As if that’s what makes me safe.
Or good.
Or true.
I don’t need to pretend I’m over it.
I need to notice when I’m in it.
That’s the work.
To name it.
To hold it.
To ask:
What is this judgment protecting?
What do I think it says about me?
What story does it help me avoid?
I don’t want to judge less.
I want to judge with awareness.
It’s not a matter of choice.
It’s a matter of awareness.
To understand it.
That’s how it stops running me.
That’s how my preferences become points of reference.
To judge.
Name is a Frame
Before I can respond,
I have to perceive.
Before I perceive,
I have to name.
That’s how it works.
That’s how I work.
Perception isn’t passive.
It’s active.
It’s constructed.
It starts with a frame.
With a name.
If I don’t name it,
I’m dominated by it.
I’m reacting to a loop.
Most of the time I skip this step.
I move fast.
I act sharp.
I perform like I know.
I haven’t named it.
That’s not clarity.
That’s rehearsal.
That’s my nervous system finishing a story
before it has the facts.
That’s why I train naming.
That’s the work.
This is the story.
This is the feeling.
This is the actions I see.
This is the pattern I’m in.
Then
maybe
I get to decide what to do with it.
Or not.
Naming is perceiving.
It’s not a matter of choice.
It’s a matter of awareness.
That’s what perception is made of.
Or that is at least what I named it.
Capture the Learning (CtL)
It’s strong and clear.
The moment.
The breakthrough.
The feeling.
I will never forget it.
I move on.
Fast.
Put into play.
I call it momentum.
It’s a leak.
The insight already started to fade.
I had a realization.
With no reflection.
No retention.
No record.
Like leaving a powerful conversation
without writing down what it revealed.
The loop of the pattern of
insight without integration.
Clarity without capture.
The right question in these moments is:
What can I learn from this experience?
Feeling?
Breakthrough?
Moment?
Then captured learning
becomes reusable.
Sharable.
Trainable.
It moves from insight to instruction.
From personal to transferable.
What is captured, compounds.
Learning is about retaining.
Practicing.
Passing it on.
What are you living
that could be captured?
#ADDTOCART: “Observations of a Sidekick” is not a memoir or another survival story. It’s an invitation into what comes after survival: post-survival living. In a culture addicted to breakthrough moments and lightning flashes, author Dan T. Rogers encourages us to pay attention to the thunder that follows. The echo where transformation begins.
Classy Problems is a daily post of thinking in motion by Dan T. Rogers. Each post stands alone as a thought-provoking piece, yet together, they create a puzzle of ideas. They invite you to see things from a different angle, rethink what you thought you knew, and explore what’s beyond your current understanding.
What is a classy problem? A classy problem is when we’ve been afforded the opportunity to figure out what to do. Time to figure it out. Time to practice. Time to discern. When faced with the time to figure out a classy problem, it is more effective to focus on what NOT to do than trying to figure out what to do. In a word: restraint. JOIN US in exploring the distinction between what to do and what not to do in the pursuit of clarity.
SPIRITUAL GANGSTER: at The Sober Curator is a haven for those embracing sobriety with a healthy dose of spiritual sass. This space invites you to dive into meditation, astrology, intentional living, philosophy, and personal reflection—all while keeping your feet (and your sobriety) firmly on the ground. Whether you’re exploring new spiritual practices or deepening an existing one, Spiritual Gangster offers inspiration, insight, and a community that blends mindful living with alcohol-free fun.
Resources Are Available
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