…so, I was listening to a podcast the other day where Massimo Alba, the Italian designer, spoke about his philosophy of clothing: “the only thing that I really, I'm interested in, is to let the people feel at ease.”
Now that I am rewilding—not retiring—I understand that word ease more acutely than ever. As I’ve told my family, I only wish to spend the rest of my life in pyjamas, or clothes that resemble them (current favorites: Toogood and Man-tle). After years of constriction in ties and tailoring, I crave nothing but ease.
And yet, ease only becomes meaningful when set against its opposite. Without discomfort, there’s no real way to understand comfort. Given how unreliable our memories are, we probably need to place opposites side by side—to toggle between them—to truly appreciate either one.
Food illustrates this well. A dessert tastes far more exquisite after something salty. Eating sweets endlessly dulls the very delight of sweetness.
The same holds for wealth, education, and freedom. But I’m more interested in the small, everyday polarities that all of us can experience regularly—the simple toggles that sharpen our awareness of contrast as a form of practice.
Toggling is also a kind of training for empathy. Experiencing opposites helps us stretch our “empathy muscle,” making it easier to understand people and especially ideas unlike our own.
So…
laugh at a joke, then reflect on something sad
exercise intensely, then sink into complete stillness
eat something fiery, then soothe yourself with a bland lassi
listen to Nine Inch Nails at full volume, then sit in silence
talk freely, then switch to listening deeply
sit still, then dance wildly like Margaret Qualley in the Kenzo World commercial
wear tight clothes in the morning, loose ones in the afternoon, and notice how your body and mind shift
These small experiments remind us that contrast is the essence of perception.
In today’s world, toggling feels especially urgent. Certainty and closed-mindedness are everywhere, narrowing our perspectives. Our digital filters reinforce what we already believe, rarely exposing us to unfamiliar ideas. Toggling—seeking out opposites, even in mundane ways—can remind us to question our certainties, to mistrust our instincts of closure, and to remain intellectually humble.
So I propose we toggle as actively and often as we can. Let’s embrace the natural polarities life offers—not only to better understand the universe and our place in it, but also to expand the very way we think, feel, and live.
Keep well, and toggle…