Good mornin’,

It’s a busy start to the week at the Henderson house. The kids were up late watching the Jays win last night, and my wife Jennifer is heading out today for a two-week trek through Cambodia. Hiking, camping, and likely enjoying some time away from the chaos of life, somewhere deep in the jungle — all to raise money and awareness for Women in Crises. I’m proud of her — big time — for stepping out of her comfort zone for a cause bigger than herself.

Meanwhile, I’m stepping out of my mine: solo-parenting three kids for fourteen days.

To go or not to go? She went.
Now we’ll see if I can survive.

It’s funny….life has a way of humbling your sense of control. One minute you’re managing portfolios; the next you’re managing permission slips, lunchboxes and navigating dance class schedules. And that thought, the discomfort of stepping out when everything feels uncertain, reminded me of another familiar dilemma:

to buy or not to buy.

Not quite the Shakespearean line, but close enough….

Hamlet said it about life.
Investors feel it about markets.

When valuations stretch and headlines sing of new highs, the question always returns – softly at first, then louder with every tick upward: to buy or not to buy?

It’s the most human hesitation in finance.
The math says stay invested; the gut says step back.
We know compounding rewards time, not timing, but reason has never been the only actor on this stage.

Hamlet’s soliloquy wasn’t about dying; it was about deciding. It was about the weight of uncertainty and the paralysis that comes when every outcome cuts both ways.

Right now, the stage lights are blinding.
The S&P 500 trades near 21–22× forward earnings, well above its long-term median. The “Magnificent 7” still hold roughly a third of the index.
The equity-risk premium — that thin wedge of compensation for taking equity risk over bonds — is hovering near its lowest point since 2002.

In plain speech: investors are paying a full ticket price for very little margin of error.
And yet — the show goes on.

Because momentum is a seductive playwright.
As long as the audience applauds, the actors believe the story will hold.
Every dip gets bought; every sell-off becomes a shopping spree.
Patience can look like pessimism in the middle of a bull run.

Valuation as a Mirror, Not a Map

Warren Buffett once said, “Price is what you pay; value is what you get.”
He learned that from Ben Graham, but he lived it through temperament, not formulas. Buffett’s edge wasn’t calculation — it was composure.

Peter Cundill, Canada’s deep-value contrarian, saw it the same way:
“The most important attribute for success in investing is not genius. It is the temperament to control the urges that get other people into trouble.”

Cundill wrote often about conviction and discomfort — buying when you least want to, selling when you least expect to, and holding through the noise. His journals remind us that markets test psychology long before they test skill.

Shakespeare would have called that conscience.
Cundill called it discipline.
Same thing.

Behavioral Gravity

Behavioral finance gives names to what Shakespeare already knew:

• Loss aversion - we feel pain twice as intensely as pleasure.
• Recency bias - we assume today’s trend will last forever.
• Regret aversion - we’d rather be wrong with the crowd than right alone.

Hamlet, standing at the edge of action, speaks for every investor staring at an expensive chart:

“Thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought.”

Too much thinking can dull conviction.
Too little can destroy it.

Riding the AI Wave….Selectively

We’re not sitting it out, we’re riding the AI wave, but we’re doing it intentionally, not impulsively.

Artificial intelligence is reshaping productivity, profitability, and the global order.
It’s the most transformative force since the internet — and, like all powerful waves, it carries both lift and risk.

Our technology exposure reflects that duality: conviction and caution.
We’re participating in innovation without surrendering to speculation.

Because every revolution feels inevitable while it’s happening — and overvalued while it is.

There are opportunities here — in the global spread of digital infrastructure, in the compounding power of data, and in the commodities and international markets positioned to supply this next era of progress.

But opportunity still demands discipline.

The Psychology of Patience

Patience is a position too.
Doing nothing is not the same as doing nothing.

It’s observation as strategy — the quiet recalibration that separates the impulsive from the intentional.
Hamlet’s tragedy wasn’t his doubt; it was that he mistook hesitation for weakness.

Investors make the same mistake when they equate restraint with missing out.

Markets reward those who can hold composure through discomfort.
That’s the unseen dividend of temperament.

Cundill called it “the willingness to look wrong before being right.”
Buffett called it “waiting for the fat pitch.”
Marks calls it “second-order thinking.”
Prof G might just call it “growing up.”

All four are saying the same thing:
courage isn’t speed — it’s self-control.

And that’s where cash flow and courage meet.

Courage and Cash Flow

Howard Marks likes to remind us, “You can’t predict, but you can prepare.”

Preparation, in markets, looks like proportion — trimming when euphoria inflates, adding when despair discounts, and always keeping enough dry powder to act when others freeze.

Marks also warns of the two most dangerous words in investing: “It’s different.”
Every generation believes it’s living through a new paradigm.
And yet the cycles — greed, fear, complacency, regret — remain perfectly familiar.

Cundill’s journals echo that rhythm: buy when you’re uncomfortable, sell when you’re smug. He once wrote, “I never said it would be easy, only that it would be worth it.”

That line could have been Shakespeare’s too.

Because every cycle tests whether our principles are anchored in data or dopamine.
When the music’s loud, patience sounds like cowardice.
When silence falls, it sounds like genius.

The Modern Paradox

Scott Galloway — Prof G — calls the market a “fraternity of dopamine addicts.”
He jokes that FOMO is the new portfolio manager, whispering: Everyone else is getting rich — what’s your excuse?

His advice cuts through the noise: “Don’t confuse luck with talent, or motion with progress.” That’s the twenty-first-century version of Buffett’s warning about naked swimmers — and Marks’s memo on second-level thinking.

Markets are human theatre, and the lines haven’t changed much since Shakespeare’s day. The props are different — algorithms instead of muskets — but the plot’s the same: ego, envy, and the occasional tragedy of excess.

Today, the global economy is humming.
Employment is strong, inflation softens, and AI optimism lifts productivity dreams.
Yet the higher multiples climb, the thinner the air becomes.

Markets rarely break from weakness — they stumble from altitude.

This doesn’t mean sell.
It means remember the physics.

When future returns compress, the margin for behavioral error widens.
Investors don’t need to call tops; they need to mind their tone.

This is our job.

Add where conviction is grounded, not crowded.
Hold quality that compounds through cycles.
Rebalance not out of fear, but out of respect for gravity.

As Buffett likes to remind us, “You only find out who’s been swimming naked when the tide goes out.”
Shakespeare might’ve called that poetic justice.

The Final Act

Valuation is never destiny. It’s dialogue.
It asks what kind of participant we are — trader, speculator, investor, or steward.

Asset allocation remains the quiet hero of long-term wealth.
Bonds — beautifully boring — are back to doing their job as ballast, providing income and a hedge against volatility.
Opportunities are emerging beyond our borders: international markets showing relative value, commodities regaining relevance as inflation protection and diversification.

We’re maintaining a strong defensive posture — not hiding, just hedged.
Steady enough to protect, nimble enough to react when opportunity rolls through.

The market will always tempt you to act.

But investing, like theatre, rewards timing.

The best performances come from those who wait for their line.

Be well and enjoy the moments,

G. Derek Henderson

Go Jays Go!!!