Back Home, Back in Your Inbox
the lakes are calling, a chance aurora borealis, spring renewal, and an open offer to slip in my dms
Hi Friends,
The plane began its descent and the great, beautiful blue of Lake Ontario came into the frame of my window. Normally I spend every flight locked in my head. Reading on my Kindle or spamming runs of Slay the Spire. Not on May 8th, 2024. I felt compelled to look out the window and marvel at the beauty of the lake. It was part of a sunny and sweet welcome home.
A month earlier, I had grabbed drinks with my friend Andrew. He was visiting from Columbus. We met at Scholz Garten, my favorite German beer garden in Austin. My paper on New York’s disastrous decision to shutter Indian Point nuclear power plant was in the final stages of editing and top of mind. Over pints of pilsner, Andrew and I discussed nuclear power, energy policy, and Bitcoin mining. We talked about the importance of fresh water and the greater Rochester area as a place of religious and spiritual significance—from Mormonism to Spiritualism and the Universal Friend.
Even after I landed, I felt that the lakes were calling to me. I walked along the Genesee river and thought about investments prior generations made that continue to pay dividends in our present. The decisions to build Ginna, Fitzpatrick, and Nine Mile Point nuclear plants and the hydroelectric plants that provide the western New York region with an immense amount of no-marginal-carbon, high capacity factor power.
What transformative decisions are civic leaders in Rochester making today that will be paying dividends 50 or more years in the future?
I was in Rochester to visit my friends before heading to NYC and Rhode Island. In NYC, I was giving a short talk to friends of the Roots of Progress Institute. In Rhode Island, I was presenting on a chapter that I had written for a policy handbook for the Club for Growth Foundation.
Spring had sprung in Rochester and the vibes were immaculate. After winter there’s always anticipation in the air. My homies were down to clown. We were playing Kings to low key pregame going to our favorite neighborhood bar. One of our friends was sent an image of the aurora borealis above Lake Ontario. We called them and they told us to get to the lake as soon as possible. We coordinated designated drivers, invited more friends, and sent it. The lake called.
I didn’t have any plans to see the aurora borealis in my life. And instead of planning a trip to see it, it happened to come to Rochester while I was visiting. It was a magical welcome home. I left to go on my DC-less east coast policy tour but was excited to return to Rochester and spend more time walking along the Genesee and playing euchre with my friends at Lux.
I ended up spending several weeks in Rochester last summer. I had always aspired to split time between Austin and Rochester—escaping the summer Texas heat to enjoy Rochester’s idyllic summers. During my final visit, my friends told me that there was a lower unit in a duplex opening up in our favorite neighborhood. They encouraged me to at least check it out and consider moving back.
I visited the apartment, got a lease from the land lord, and began to think hard about moving back to Rochester. At the beginning of the next week, before I left to return to Austin, I signed the lease.
The rest of the summer was a whirlwind. I threw a good bye party in Austin and tried to make the most out of my final weeks living there. My time in Austin was a fun, strange, challenging, and informative time of my life. A weird chapter that will always have me consider moving back. Austin wasn’t home but I found my people there. One could say that I sought and found my tribe.
I started writing to this email list when I wrote my book Lead The Future: Strategies & Systems for Emerging Leaders. It formally became Seeking Tribe in mid 2020, as I sought to keep in touch through the pandemic and process an onslaught of uncertainty and novel information. I looked through my email and saw how many direct replies I received to those early emails. Those early replies meant a lot. Thank you to everyone who has ever reached out after reading one of my posts.
I continued writing when I moved to Austin. When I first got there, I was doubling down on what had brought me out there. I was a poaster. I kept posting and kept meeting new people and finding opportunities. And then I stopped. The costs of posting regularly, both on X and on my own newsletter, started to feel too high. I wasn’t writing for the love of it. I still had a lot of ideas but they mostly died quiet deaths over drinks with close friends, or in a half-baked tweet with 100 views.
I don’t want to promise too much in this newsletter but I need to rip the bandaid off and start publishing for myself again. There’s a lot that I’ve been thinking about that I want to share with you. It has been a year since my chance encounter with the aurora borealis at Lake Ontario. I now live on the same street as some of my favorite people in the world, and several of my other best friends live within a 20 minute walk.
I’m back home and I’m back in your inbox.
Please reply to this email. I want to get back to the roots of this newsletter. I’d love to catch up and hear how you’re doing.
Your Friend,
Grant
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