I was talking to a friend yesterday who remarked that if she only had 15 years left to live, she’d choose depth over expansion. She’d choose spending time with the people she loved over meeting new people.
This made me think of Spotify, and how the app actually makes my experience of listening to music worse. Yes, I can listen to any music at any time. But this increased ability to expand and explore actually makes it harder for me to really get into any one artist.
When I was in college, I traveled to a remote village in Ghana for several weeks. There was no internet. All I had in the way of entertainment was what I brought with me: a laptop computer and some books. My laptop had only one album on it: We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank by Modest Mouse. I hated this album the first few times I listened to it. But because it was my only choice, I kept listening, on repeat, and eventually, I grew to like, and then to love, this album. I listened to it dozens of times.
In this era of Spotify, there would be no way I’d ever have this experience of struggling through, and then growing to love, an album. The writer Mark Manson said that when one thing becomes abundant, another thing becomes scarce. So many things are becoming abundant these days. It’s easy to meet new people: just join a group. It’s easy to listen to new music on Spotify. It’s easy to find information online.
What’s becoming scarce is depth.
To see the beauty of another person sometimes requires knowing them for years. Our cat died recently, and my wife is grieving. In witnessing her grief, I’m struck by the beauty of her love for our cat Sticky Rice. Yet I wouldn’t have seen this if we’d only known each other for a short period of time.

To see the beauty of a career sometimes requires being in it for decades. I recently reflected on where I am with my career. Zooming out and taking stock, I was able to see the meaning in my past struggles, how those struggles have led me to where I am now. And I was able to better appreciate what I find most satisfying about my current job: the ability to get to know people.
I’m realizing that meaning is proportional to struggle. I’m writing these words with our 90 lb dog Mango warming my feet on the couch. Mango is a 50% good boy now, but there was a time when he was only a 1% good boy. Getting him to this point took a whole lot of training and struggle, and receiving help from a trainer.
Another Mark Manson quote is “Don’t hope for a life without problems.” The problems, the struggles, the periods of feeling lost are what give a sense of meaning when we finally make it out of the woods. Deciding when to quit and when to commit is a subtle art. Yet, in this era when it’s getting easier and easier to pick up a new song, a new book, a new friend, I keep needing to remind myself of the value of depth: that meaning that comes with overcoming struggle, that it’s good to keep at things.