ABC of my mind.
I first learned about abecedariums from my dear friend Randy Hunt (see R for more on him). It’s not quite a blog, not quite a journal. Just a space to collect the things I’m curious about, the things I’ve learned, and the things that, for whatever reason, have stuck with me.
A
Abecadarium - According to Wikipedia an abecedarium is "an inscription consisting of the letters of an alphabet, almost always listed in order.
B
Ben Dimson - I was surprised to learn, after finding my 964, that the designer behind its timeless lines—Ben Dimson—was Filipino. He led the exterior design of the 964, the 959, the 944 Turbo, and the 928 S4—some of the most iconic shapes in Porsche’s history. He began by studying Industrial Engineering at Adamson University in Manila, then went on to earn a degree in Transportation Design from the Art Center College of Design in Pasadena. As someone who cares deeply about feel, proportion, and restraint, it means something to know that a Filipino designed the car I love to drive.
Books - Books are magic (also the name of one of my favorite bookstores). From Francis Su in Mathematics for Human Flourishing, I learned that math can be poetic—and that it’s never too late to reclaim something you were once told wasn’t yours. From Carlo Rovelli in The Order of Time, I learned that time is more fluid than we think, and that physics can feel like philosophy when written with care. From Paul Kalanithi in When Breath Becomes Air, I learned that facing death can sharpen what matters most—and that a surgeon can write like a poet when the stakes are real.
C
Coffee -
Community - Having written a book on the topic, I’m often asked for my thoughts. I dislike the word. It means so much that it no longer means much. I think the trouble with the word community is how still it is—how it waits, how it names the thing as if it were already built. I prefer communal. It asks more of us. It’s not passive. It’s presence, yes—but also participation. Consistently showing up for each other. Building with, not for.
CBT - Cognitive Behavior Therapy taught me to notice the space between what happens and how I respond. It showed me that thoughts, feelings, and behaviors are deeply interconnected. I am not my thoughts. I don’t have to act how I feel. How I behave is in my control. Like mental strength training, one rep at a time. The CBT series on Sam Harris’ Waking Up was the clearest and most helpful explaination I’ve found.
D
Dede -
Demetria -
Desire - “Every desire is a contract you make with yourself to be unhappy until you get what you want.” Naval Ravikant’s quote stays with me. Desire isn’t bad—but too many, left unchecked, can quietly anchor you to discontent. I try to keep my list short. And pay attention to what’s worth wanting.
Dome - My friend Chris Begg told me about the Costa Rica Thermal Dome—a marine phenomenon just offshore from Nosara, where cold, nutrient-rich water rises to meet warm surface currents. It creates one of the most biodiverse ocean zones in the world. It’s like a giant eat-all-you-can buffet for marine animals like whales, turtles, dolphins and big schools of fish. You can’t see it, but you can feel it—the richness, the rhythm, the life beneath the surface. Maybe that’s one reason why Nosara feels so alive.
Donald Brink -
F
Family - Chris (Begg) taught me to use acronyms—to better understand a word, or to hold onto an idea. My acronym for family is: Flourishing As Multiple Individuals Lovingly Yielding. That’s what I hope we’re doing. Each of us growing, separately and together.
G
Get Together - The first thing I ever made that you could actually feel, hold, touch—not click, swipe, or like. A real artifact. Co-writing it with my buds, Bailey and Kevin, was pure joy. And being published by Stripe Press. An honour I’ll always carry.
I
Influence - Gil Blank’s magazine Influence didn’t just inform my photography—it unsettled it. In the best way. It challenged me to question what I see, why I see it, and what I’m asking others to see with me. We met surfing in Nosara. Later, he sent me both issues of Influence, now out of print. With them, he included a note: “Kai, Sending two copies of Influence, made during the (past) golden age of print mags. Independently run, very short-lived, and molded on the great artist magazines of the ’50s–’70s: Semina, Avalanche, and above all, Interfunktion. The second issue is particularly for you—all about the viability of portraiture.” You can still read the essays on Gil’s website. I return to them often.
Intention - When I begin a home project, I don’t start with a mood board or a Pinterest folder. I start with a letter. I’ve learned that this approach is uncommon. It’s short—just a page—and I send it to the full team: architect, builder, designer, collaborators. In it, I write out five intentions. Not deliverables. Not design inspirations. Intentions. A way to align everyone on what we’re really making—not just the home, but the feeling inside it. I have an idea for my next book, with a working title of Intentionally Home.
Italy - In Italy, I feel like the person I want to become. Italy means little if you don’t carry it with you. You don’t just visit—it reveals something in you that was already there. Life here doesn’t perform for you—it pulls you in. You’re not observing, you’re part of it. Even the airport has a café bar at baggage claim. That tells you everything.
M
Mobility - No one tears their six-pack or pecs playing on the weekend—it’s always the joints. Shoulders, knees, ankles, spine. Mobility is strength at the end range of flexibility. I want to surf for life, so I train to move well, not just look strong. A podcast with the founder of Gymnastic Bodies changed how I think about fitness. Strength isn’t just power—it’s control, resilience, and range.
Money - We should teach our kids how money works—compounding, exponential growth, paying yourself first. But knowledge alone isn’t enough. Morgan Housel’s The Psychology of Money nails it: how we feel about money shapes how we use it. That emotional relationship matters more than the math. Every year, I sit down and journal my personal definition of what it means to be poor. Not just financially—but emotionally, viscerally, practically. For me, it might mean not being able to buy a new surfboard or take friends out to dinner. This ritual reminds me of what I already have. It grounds me in gratitude and helps me recognize when I have enough.
R
Randy Hunt - Randy and I met when he first moved to Singapore—a mutual friend asked me to help him land. We got to know each other over bagels in our Novena neighborhood, both missing New York-style bagels (though I still think Montreal does it better). He inspires me not just for his design expertise, but for how he listens more than he speaks, and stays more interested than interesting. Thanks for letting me steal your Abecadarium, Randy.
S
Sabbatical - I might be a master sabbatical taker. I’ve taken close to ten over the course of my career. The first was inspired by my eBay colleague, Andrew Sloss, who took a four-month parental leave—at a time when very few men did. I followed his lead. Since then, I’ve taken time off for all kinds of reasons—and sometimes for no reason at all, other than to lie fallow. I came across the essay The Case for Lying Fallow by Bonnie Tsui in the New York Times, and it stayed with me. Years later, we met while surfing in Costa Rica. We’ve been close friends ever since. I love her books Why We Swim and On Muscle, but that first essay planted a seed. In farming, to lie fallow means to let the soil rest so it can grow again. We forget we need that too. Stillness isn’t empty. It’s where imagination returns. Where creativity breathes. Where the self quietly reassembles. We don’t always need more. Sometimes, we just need less—on purpose.
Surfing - I love surfing. It’s so fun. And so hard—especially to learn as an adult. It looks mystical from the outside, and in many ways, it is. But there are patterns. And you need competent surf coaches—people who can hand you the encryption key, so you can begin to solve the puzzle. I was lucky to meet Ru when I was just starting out. He’s since built Surf Simply—the best technical surf coaching resort in the world, where you can geek out on surfing in depth while being treated like an athlete for a full week. If I had to do it all over again, I’d ditch the surfboard and spend a few years bodysurfing. At its core, surfing isn’t about standing up—it’s about knowing the ocean. Reading it. Feeling its movements. Learning how to harness its power. That’s the foundation. Herbert started Ocean Moves with this very idea: before anything else, learn the ocean. And the one thing that’s made the biggest difference in my progression? Learning to breathe. Mitch has been coaching me to stay mindful of my breaths—in and out of the ocean. It sounds simple, but it changes everything: awareness, timing, recovery and calm.
System - James Clear said, “You don’t rise to the level of your goals. You fall to the level of your systems.” I’ve found that to be true—across work, movement, creativity, even how I show up for my family. Goals are nice. But systems are what hold you on the days you forget the goal. A journaling practice. A daily meditation practice. Good sweat. Better sleep. A morning without a phone. That’s the system. And when I get it right, I don’t have to try so hard to be the person I want to become. The system nudges me there.
Z
Z - As a Canadian, I pronounce it as “zed” though I will understand if you say “zee”.