I finished reading The Ulysses Contract recently.
It wasn’t one of those books that leaves me feeling fired up or motivated to change everything the next day. It did something else. It made me sit quietly with a few thoughts about how I make decisions… and how those decisions play out much later.
The idea behind the book comes from the story of Ulysses.
Before sailing past the island of the Sirens - whose songs were known to lure sailors into crashing their ships - Ulysses asked his crew to tie him to the mast of the ship. He also told them not to untie him, no matter how much he begged later.
He knew that the person hearing the Sirens would not be the same person making the decision beforehand.
That thought stayed with me longer than I expected.
Because if I’m honest, I see that play out in my own life all the time.
1. The person making the decision today is not always the one who lives with it
There is a version of me that wakes up in the morning with a lot of clarity.
That version of me signs up for the gym membership, plans healthy meals, commits to saving money, and thinks long-term.
And then there is another version of me - usually later in the evening - who would rather sit down with a coffee, scroll on the phone, and say “I’ll deal with it tomorrow.” Especially after a long tiring day at work.
Both of them are me.
And sometimes the evening version wins.
Reading the book made me realise that the real trick in life may not be discipline in the moment… but setting things up earlier so that the moment doesn’t get a vote.
2. Motivation comes and goes. Systems quietly do the work
For the past year I’ve been trying to get healthier.
I lost around 16 kilos, which felt good. But the funny thing is the belly fat is still stubbornly hanging around like an old tenant that refuses to move out.
Some days I wake up motivated and head straight to the gym.
Other days I find myself thinking, maybe I’ll just grab a coffee and go for a drive instead.
The only reason I’ve stuck with it for this long is because the routine is already there. The gym is part of the day now. I don’t need to feel inspired every morning.
The system carries me on the days motivation disappears.
And that felt very much like what the book was pointing to.
3. The promises I break most easily are the ones I make to myself
If I promise someone at work that I’ll deliver something, I usually do it.
If I tell my kids we’ll go somewhere on the weekend, I try my best to make it happen.
But promises I make to myself somehow feel more flexible.
“I’ll start next week.”
“Just this once.”
“It’s fine today.”
None of these decisions feel like a big deal in the moment.
But over time, I can see how easy it is to slowly erode trust with myself.
And once that trust slips, rebuilding it takes time.
4. Some rules actually make life easier
At first the idea of making a “contract” with myself sounded restrictive.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that some of the easiest parts of my life are the ones where the decision is already made.
My investments, for example.
Every month I put money aside and invest it. It’s not something I sit and debate each time. The decision was made a long time ago.
And because of that, there’s no daily conversation in my head about whether I should or shouldn’t.
That quiet removal of choice actually feels like freedom.
5. Life feels like a conversation with the person I’ll become later
This was probably the biggest reflection I took away from the book.
Every small decision I make today is part of a conversation with a future version of myself.
The person I’ll be ten years from now is slowly being shaped by these ordinary days.
The workouts that happen.
The ones that don’t.
The money that gets invested.
The time spent with the kids.
The habits that quietly form.
None of these feel dramatic while they are happening.
But together they write a story.
When I finished The Ulysses Contract, I didn’t close the book thinking I needed a whole new plan for life.
If anything, it just made me notice the small contracts I’m already making.
With my health.
With my money.
With the example I’m setting for Nathan and Noah.
Most of those contracts were never written down.
They’re just patterns that repeat every day.
And maybe that’s the real takeaway for me.
The most important agreements in life are often the quiet ones I make with the person I’m slowly becoming.