Previous month:
December 2024

January 2025

The Modern Midas: When Good Intentions Turn Our Children to Gold

-Karthik Gurumurthy

King Midas's story is a Greek legend that powerfully illustrates the danger of getting exactly what we wish for.

In the ancient tale, King Midas was obsessed with accumulating wealth, particularly gold. When granted a wish by the gods, he wished for the power to turn everything he touched into gold - the famous "Midas touch." Initially, this seemed like a dream come true - every object he touched instantly transformed into solid gold, makintg him unimaginably wealthy.

However, the tragic consequences of his wish quickly became apparent:

  • When he tried to eat, his food turned to gold
  • When he tried to drink, his wine turned to gold
  • Most devastatingly, when he hugged his beloved daughter, she was transformed into a lifeless golden statue

The story reaches its climax when Midas realizes his "blessing" is actually a curse. He becomes desperate to rid himself of this power, understanding too late that his obsession with wealth had cost him everything that truly mattered in life.

I see modern versions of the Midas touch all around me. Take my friend Alex's father, a successful tech entrepreneur who, like Midas, was obsessed with turning everything into 'gold' - in this case, monetary success. He pushed all his children toward high-paying tech careers, regardless of their interests. Just as Midas discovered the terrible cost of his wish when he turned his daughter into a golden statue, Alex's father realized too late that his singular focus on financial success was turning his relationships with his children cold and lifeless.

The story's wisdom particularly hits home when I think about parenting patterns I've observed. I remember Elika, a  student o f mine whose parents were so focused on creating a 'golden' future for her - prestigious college, law school, partner track - that they inadvertently turned every family interaction into a performance review. Like Midas's power, what seemed like a blessing (their resources and connections) became a burden that stifled her authentic self.

What strikes me most about the Midas story is how it exposes the confusion between what we think will make us happy and what actually brings fulfillment. I've experienced this myself when I was so focused on achieving certain professional milestones that I nearly turned my passion into something cold and lifeless - much like Midas's golden touch. It took a personal crisis, my own version of Midas's wake-up call, to realize I was pursuing success at the cost of what truly mattered.

The key lessons I've drawn from this ancient tale feel surprisingly relevant:

  • First, be wary of one-dimensional wishes. Like Midas's obsession with gold, single-minded pursuit of any one thing - whether it's wealth, status, or achievement - can turn life's richness into something sterile.
  • Second, consider the unintended consequences. Just as Midas didn't think through what 'everything to gold' really meant, we often don't fully consider how our wishes might affect other aspects of our lives.
  • Finally, and perhaps most importantly, recognize that what we think will bring happiness often isn't what we truly need. Like Midas, who thought unlimited wealth would bring fulfillment, we sometimes chase things that ultimately leave us unable to embrace what really matters.

These lessons become particularly poignant when I think about how they apply to parenting and mentoring.

I've seen the opposite approach work wonderfully with another family. My colleague Lisa's parents gave their children what I call 'fertile soil' rather than a 'golden touch.' When their son showed interest in becoming a chef instead of joining the family's engineering firm, they supported his passion while ensuring he understood the practical challenges. They provided resources for growth without dictating the direction - more like gardeners than goldsmiths.

I've noticed three critical patterns:

  1. When parents and mentors focus on 'polishing' rather than developing, they risk creating beautiful but hollow achievements - like Midas's golden statues.
  2. The most successful mentor-mentee relationships I've seen maintain what I call 'living flexibility' - like a tree that's both strong and able to bend.
  3. The best outcomes often come when guides focus on developing judgment rather than dictating paths - teaching how to think rather than what to think.

The irony, much like in Midas's story, is that parents and mentors who hold too tightly to their vision of success often end up with exactly what they didn't want - children and mentees who are either rebellious or unfulfilled. The real gold, I've learned, isn't in the outcomes we can control, but in the genuine growth and discovery we can nurture.


The Hidden Cost of Never Risking Mistakes: A Life of Safe Regrets

-Karthik Gurumurthy

Let me share my perspective on how this fear of mistakes plays out, something I've observed closely in our educational and professional circles.

I see it all the time - bright students who are genuinely fascinated by pure sciences, perhaps physics or molecular biology, but end up choosing engineering because it feels like the 'safer' path. I think about my friend Vidya, who loved theoretical physics but opted for computer engineering because, in her words, 'At least I know I'll get a job.' I've seen brilliant minds who light up during chemistry experiments or astronomical discussions, but choose engineering because it's the most-trodden path.

I think about my friend Newman, who spent ten years in corporate finance not because he loved it, but because it felt safe. He had this brilliant idea for a technology startup, but kept saying, 'What if I fail? What if I lose my savings? What if people think I'm foolish?' He was so afraid of making a mistake that he made what I consider the bigger mistake - not trying at all. 

I see this pattern play out in subtle ways too. There's my colleague Priya, who excels at creative problem-solving but keeps quiet in meetings because she's afraid of suggesting something 'wrong.' Or my friend Mahesh, who stayed in his hometown because moving to pursue his dreams in a bigger city seemed too uncertain. Each time, the fear of making mistakes becomes a cage that limits our potential.

But here's what I've learned: those who achieve the most remarkable things often have the messiest journeys. Take my friend Alex- he left a prestigious law career to start a tech company, had a lot of hiccups, and then finally succeeded. Each 'mistake' taught him something crucial that contributed to his eventual success. If we refuse to cut ourselves some slack for messing up, then we'll be disinclined to take chances.

The irony is that playing it safe doesn't actually protect us from mistakes - it just limits our potential for growth and discovery. I've started to see that the real mistake isn't failing at something new - it's letting the fear of failure keep us marching along with everybody else, never discovering what might have been possible if we'd dared to step off the beaten path. If we're afraid that the beat of our own drummer might lead us to a misstep, then we can only march along with everybody else.


The Beautiful Chaos of Finding Your Calling: A Journey Through Life's Detours and Discoveries

-Karthik Gurumurthy

I've come to realize that finding your true calling is less like following a GPS and more like exploring an unmarked trail. Take my friend Gikku's journey - he started as an accountant because it seemed logical and secure. Few years in, he felt that nagging emptiness, despite his years of investing in the field.

He first tried  working on umpiring, thinking it might fill the creative void. Then he explored sport journalism which led him to realize he loved the sports aspect more than the Journalism part. Each 'detour' wasn't really a detour at all - it was a necessary step in understanding what he truly wanted.

I see this in my own journey too. I spent years in Chemistry, then in Bioinformatics, then program management and coaching. Each role taught me something crucial about what energized me and what drained me. Like my Gikku's experience with accountancy - where he had to fully understand it wasn't his true calling before he could embrace sports journalism - sometimes we need to fully explore and even exhaust certain paths to recognize they're not quite right. 

What fascinates me is how our minds work in these strange ways,. We think we should have clear, logical progressions, but often our hearts know things before our minds can explain them. It's like my colleague Sarah, who kept taking art classes while pursuing her PhD in biology. Everyone, including herself, saw it as just a hobby until she realized her true passion was in scientific illustration - a perfect blend of both worlds that she couldn't have planned for.

The process is often complicated by external expectations and internal guilt. A former coworker of mine had a prestigious law degree but found himself drawn to opening a small bakery. The hardest part wasn't learning the new skills - it was giving herself permission to want something different from what he'd invested years preparing for.

What I've learned is that this messiness is not just normal - it's necessary. Each 'failed' attempt, each pivot, each moment of doubt contributes to our understanding of ourselves. I've noticed that true calling often reveals itself in those small moments of lost time - when you're so engaged that hours feel like minutes. Like when you're breaking down the periodic table into a story that makes students' eyes light up with understanding, or when you find yourself sketching molecular structures on napkins at dinner because you're excited about making a complex concept clearer.When we finally find our true calling, it often comes with that unmistakable feeling of both responsibility and joy - a gravity that holds us in place not through obligation, but through genuine alignment with who we are.

The key is to stay open to these seemingly random explorations while paying attention to what truly resonates. Sometimes our calling finds us while we're busy looking somewhere else.


Beyond Material Comfort: The True Privilege of Choice and Authentic Discovery

-Karthik Gurumurthy

I've been reflecting deeply on what privilege truly means, and it's fascinating how it goes far beyond just material comfort. While having a comfortable home, good food, and financial security is important, I've come to understand that the real essence of privilege lies in having choices - the freedom to explore different paths in life.

This reminds me of two contrasting stories that really illuminate this idea. First, there's my friend Charu, who comes from a well-to-do family and attended an elite university. On paper, she had everything - financial security, excellent education, and clear career paths laid out before her. But her privilege paradoxically became a constraint because her family had such rigid expectations about what constituted an 'acceptable' career. They'd given her a universe of possibilities with one hand while taking most of them away with the other, pushing her toward traditional prestigious professions like law or medicine, regardless of her own interests.

Then there's this other story that really resonates with me - about someone who took a wonderfully meandering path to find their calling. They started in mechanical engineering, then followed their curiosity through physics, mathematics, fine arts, and finally to architecture. What strikes me is how each shift wasn't a failure but a necessary step in their journey. Despite their parents' anxiety and friends' confusion, each change brought them closer to understanding what they truly wanted.

This journey particularly speaks to me because I've seen similar patterns in my own life and those of others around me. I have a cousin who started in Commerce, switched to psychology, and eventually found his passion in Marine  Management . At each step, he was told she was 'wasting' his opportunities, but really, he was using his privilege exactly as it should be used - as the freedom to explore and find his authentic path.

The real insight for me is that true privilege isn't just about having opportunities - it's about having the freedom to explore them without being constrained by others' expectations or rigid definitions of success. It's like having a map with multiple possible routes rather than being forced down a single predetermined path.

This makes me think about how we often mistake 'the right choice' for 'the safe choice' or 'the obvious choice.' Real privilege is having the courage and support to wander through that labyrinth of choices until you find what truly resonates with you, even if that path looks messy or unconventional to others.


The Art of Balanced Advantage: Nurturing Capability Without Creating Dependency

-Karthik Gurumurthy

I've been reflecting deeply on this parenting philosophy of giving children 'enough to do anything, but not enough to do nothing.' It's like providing a robust launching pad while ensuring they still need to build their own rocket.

I see this in how my friend Priya parents her children. She pays for their college education - giving them the freedom to pursue their dreams without crippling debt - but expects them to work part-time jobs for their personal expenses. This teaches them both the value of education and the importance of work ethic. The 'enough to do anything' is the education; the 'not enough to do nothing' is the responsibility for their own spending money.

Another example that really strikes me is how my colleague Dylan  handles his family business. Instead of simply handing his daughter a executive position, he first required her to work elsewhere for five years. He gave her 'enough' by providing the opportunity to eventually join the family business, but not 'enough to do nothing' by making her prove herself in the outside world first. She had to earn her way back in, bringing fresh perspectives and proven capabilities.

I've also observed this principle in smaller, everyday situations. Like my friend Visu who helps his son with a down payment for a house but expects him to qualify for and pay the mortgage himself. Or another family I know who funded their children's graduate school but only after they'd worked for two years and could articulate exactly why they needed the advanced degree.

What fascinates me is how this approach creates a perfect balance between support and challenge. It's like installing training wheels but making sure they come off at the right time. Too many training wheels for too long, and the child never learns true balance. Remove them too early, and you risk unnecessary falls and lost confidence.

I've noticed that families who practice this principle tend to raise children who are both confident in their abilities and realistic about life's challenges. They understand that while they may have advantages, those advantages are tools to build with, not cushions to rest on. They learn that privilege comes with responsibility, and opportunity must be matched with effort.

This balance seems particularly crucial in today's world, where we're trying to prepare children for careers and challenges that might not even exist yet. The goal isn't to give them everything, but to give them just enough to develop the capabilities to figure things out for themselves.


Earning your luck

-Karthik Gurumurthy

Lot of people think of luck as an opportunity that lands in our lap - but what we do with that opportunity is what truly matters.

For example, someone gets introduced to an influential person at a random networking event (initial luck). They could either let that connection fade, or they could follow up thoughtfully, provide value to that relationship, and turn it into a meaningful professional partnership. Those who "earn" this luck often send relevant articles to their new contact, offer to help with projects, and maintain genuine communication.

Another example is receiving an unexpected job interview through a friend's recommendation. The initial luck is getting the interview, but earning it means thoroughly preparing for the interview, researching the company extensively, and then working diligently once hired to prove the recommendation was warranted.

Think of a musician who gets a viral moment on social media. That's the initial luck - but turning that viral moment into a sustainable career requires consistent content creation, engaging with fans, and continuously improving their craft. Many viral sensations fade away, while others "earn" their lucky break through dedication.

There's also everyday luck, like having good health. We can earn this luck by maintaining healthy habits, regular exercise, and proper nutrition - or we can take it for granted and potentially lose it.

The key principle is that initial luck opens a door, but it's our subsequent actions that determine whether we walk through that door and make something meaningful of the opportunity. This perspective invites me to ask myself: How am I honoring the advantages I've been given? Am I using my own "grace" - whatever form it takes - to create value for others? It's not about feeling guilty for our advantages or resentful of our disadvantages, but about recognizing that the true measure of our worth lies in what we do with whatever circumstances we've been given.

Even in everyday situations - maybe you stumbled upon a useful professional connection through a chance meeting. Humility is understanding "I didn't strategically orchestrate this meeting - it was random luck." But action is following through, being reliable, adding value to the relationship, and building something meaningful from that initial lucky encounter.

The power lies in this dual recognition: we can simultaneously acknowledge the role of chance in our lives (keeping us humble) while also taking full responsibility for what we do with our circumstances (spurring us to action). It's about saying "I may not have chosen my starting point, but I can choose what I do from here."


The Dance of Chance and Choice: Understanding Life's Randomness and Our Response to It

-Karthik Gurumurthy

I'm struck by the deep wisdom about life's fundamental randomness and what we make of it.  By Life's fundamental randomness, I mean the inherent unpredictability and chance elements that shape our existence - where and when we're born, the opportunities or challenges that unexpectedly arise, the people we happen to meet, and countless other factors outside our control.

For example, consider two equally talented entrepreneurs - one happens to launch their company just before a market boom, while another launches right before a downturn. Or think about someone who randomly sits next to their future business partner on a flight, versus someone who just misses that connection. These random elements can significantly impact outcomes.

The "wisdom" part comes from recognizing both this randomness and our response to it. We can't control the random cards we're dealt, but we can control how we play them. It's about understanding that while luck and chance play a huge role in our lives, our actions, preparations, and responses to both fortunate and unfortunate circumstances matter tremendously.

This perspective is both humbling and empowering. Humbling because it acknowledges that not everything is in our control - success isn't purely meritocratic. Empowering because it reminds us that even with bad luck, our choices and actions still make a difference in shaping outcomes. It's about finding that balance between accepting life's inherent uncertainty while still taking meaningful action to influence what we can.

Think of it like sailing - we can't control the wind, but we can learn to adjust our sails and navigate skillfully regardless of the conditions we encounter.

 

The Time Alchemist's Tale

-Karthik Gurumurthy

Let me tell you about Shoba, a seasoned public speaker who discovered three magical secrets about transforming time. It all started when she was preparing for what seemed like just another corporate presentation.

Staring at her blank slides one evening, Shoba caught herself asking that age-old question: "How am I going to fill these 60 minutes?" Then it hit her - she was asking the wrong question entirely. It wasn't about filling time; it was about filling minds. She remembered watching her favorite teacher in school, who never seemed concerned about the clock but instead focused on lighting up eyes with understanding.

But Shoba's story doesn't stop there. One day, stuck in a two-hour flight delay, she noticed something fascinating. While everyone around her was mindlessly scrolling through their phones, muttering about "killing time," an elderly gentleman next to her was writing heartfelt letters to his grandchildren. "I'm not killing time," he told her with a twinkle in his eye, "I'm mining it for gold."

The final piece of Shoba's time transformation clicked into place after a particularly chaotic week. She'd been beating herself up about "making up for lost time" when her wise friend Sofia stopped her in her tracks.

"Lost time?" Sofia asked, raising an eyebrow. "Tell me, Shoba, can you change what happened yesterday?"

"No," Shoba admitted.

"Can you control what happens tomorrow?"

"No..."

"Then why waste today worrying about either?"

From these experiences, Shoba learned three powerful lessons about transforming time:

  1. Don't just fill time - fill minds (like her teacher did)
  2. Don't kill time - mine it for gold (like the elderly gentleman)
  3. Don't chase lost time - treasure the present (like Sofia taught her)

Now, whenever Shoba speaks, trains, or even just waits in line at the coffee shop, she remembers these lessons. She's become something of a time alchemist, turning ordinary moments into golden opportunities for growth, connection, and purpose.

And here's the best part - she discovered that when you treat each moment as precious, you never really waste time at all. You just keep transforming it into something better.


One day at a time

-Karthik Gurumurthy

Hey, let's get real about New Year's resolutions - they usually crash and burn faster than a TikTok trend! Instead of saying "I'm gonna lose 10 pounds" (and giving up by February), let's talk about building habits that actually stick.

Think of it like building a house: you don't just throw up the walls and hope for the best. You need a solid foundation. Here are some game-changing habits that actually work:

  1. The Sleep-Wake Sweet Spot: Forget the "5 AM club" hype - it's not for everyone! Bob Iger (Disney's boss) loves early mornings, I prefer it too but if you're more productive at midnight like my friend Prashant, own it! The key isn't when you wake up, it's what you do with your alert hours.
  2. Move Your Body (But Make It Fun): Even presidents make time for exercise! Eisenhower played golf, others hit the gym. Find your thing - maybe it's dancing in your living room or shooting hoops. Just move!
  3. Goals > Resolutions: Instead of "I want to get rich," try "I'm going to learn about investing and save 10% of each paycheck." See the difference? One's a wish, the other's a plan.
  4. Find Your "Why": Microsoft's CEO Satya Nadella asked, "What would happen if Microsoft didn't exist?" Ask yourself the same about your life. Heavy stuff, but it helps!
  5. Never Stop Learning: With free resources everywhere (podcasts, YouTube, blogs), there's no excuse. Schedule it like you schedule Netflix time!
  6. Take Real Breaks: Vacation isn't just for Instagram pics - your brain needs actual downtime. Even if it's just a staycation where you turn off your work notifications.

The Secret Sauce? Don't Try to Change Everything at Once: It's like trying to juggle while riding a unicycle - you're gonna fall! Start small. Maybe begin with one habit, like reading for 10 minutes before bed. Once that's solid, add another.

And here's the real talk: Your willpower is like a phone battery - it runs out! That's why you might crush your healthy eating goals all day but demolish a bag of chips at night. When this happens (and it will), don't beat yourself up. Just recharge and start fresh.

Remember: The goal isn't to become perfect - it's to become better. As they say, Rome wasn't built in a day, but they were laying bricks every hour. What brick are you going to lay today?