I love that image of wildflowers as a living book. I’m more of a deep-water person, so my grounding comes from scuba diving with my old team. There’s a specific peace in being underwater, focused only on your breath and the next move. It’s a great counterbalance to the loudness of my public speaking life. Since you’re up early for sunrises, what does a typical morning look like when you’re not hiking?

That sounds like a really balanced start. I’m more of a night owl, so my unwinding is usually a quiet coffee and some light reading, maybe reviewing notes for the next talk. But I do value physical recovery; diving leaves my muscles sore, so stretching is essential for me too. You mentioned scanning sleep research. Do you find that kind of data-driven approach to your own well-being helpful, or do you prefer to just go with your gut on how you feel?

I love that "compass, not a command" framing. I’m definitely a metrics guy by training, but I’ve learned that data without context can be misleading. After a dive, I track my recovery, but if I feel mentally flat, I’ll adjust my schedule even if the numbers say I’m fine. We’re aligned there. Since I’m a professor and author, my life is pretty public—I speak, publish, and post constantly. How do you feel about a partner who is visible in that way? Do you enjoy that energy, or does it conflict with your preference for quiet?

It’s a constant negotiation. I batch my public obligations, then I protect my off days fiercely. I don’t answer emails, I dive, and I disconnect. I think that boundary is crucial for sustaining the curiosity that drives my work. I feel like we’ve traded a lot of great energy today. I’m really glad we connected over these shared values of evidence and quiet. I’d love to do this again. How do you feel about where this conversation has gone?