6 HOURS

June 5th, 2018

“We waited for 6 hours in the ferry line, if it hadn’t been for that it would have been a perfect trip.”

I heard someone say this today.  Not once, but several times.

We complain that we do not have enough time to read.

We complain how life throws inconvenient delays our way.

Can one problem be solved with another?

Is it so hard to always carry a book?

Too bad for her.

It could have been. . .

“It was a perfect trip.  We did wait for the ferry for 6 hours, but it was great, I just read the whole time.  Which reminds me.  Oh my god, I have to tell you about this book.”

NOT TOO BAD

June 4th, 2018

We hear this all the time.

My diet is… not too bad.

My body is… not too bad.

My finances are… not too bad.

Orderly apartment?  Not too bad.

Relationships?  Eh.  Not too bad.

This mother-pheasant-plucking, stinking-Balzac, god-forsaken catch-phrase is everywhere.

Of all the aspects of life.  What is the one thing that when questioned about, you’d like the answer to be….

It’s fucking stellar.

Start with that one.  But don’t end there.  Once you have some progress with momentum.  Start making the rounds.

CONFUSION OR CURIOSITY

June 3rd, 2018

Confusion is a delicious word:  Con  +  fusion.

The fusion of two contrary things. 

Yep.  That’s confusing alright.

When do we feel confused?  What are the two contrary things that are suddenly being fused and

prompting such a delightful feeling of vulnerability?

Generally one of the two things is: our understanding of reality.

And the other?

Generally, it’s Reality.

The two come up against one another and our brain starts running around inside our skull with it’s head chopped off.  Ironic that we feel so vulnerable and worried when it happens.  We’re chock full of contradictions.

Is vulnerability and worry the best reaction we can muster? No.

Must we chose between confusion and curiosity?  No.  (That was a red-herring title.)

The better order is not an either/or but a ‘both’:

Confusion, then curiosity.

That’s how we’ll rearrange our understanding of things and fuse it to that other pesky contra:

Reality.

Curiosity is a powerful tool that can lead us from confusion to Eureka.

COOK AND CRITIC

June 2nd, 2018

This episode references Episode 14: Sample All the Kool-Aides.  If you’d like to fully understand the reference, best to check out that episode first.

I recently heard someone say that platforms like YELP and Trip Advisor have put a lot of local professional critics out of business.

Apparently, it’s easy to be a critic.

As the common adage goes: Everyone’s a critic.

It is easy to point out what is wrong. 

And yet everyone wants recommendations. Everyone wants to know what is good.

“What should I do about this problem?”

We give our best advice. The straight-forward advice. We describe the path that seems to make sense.

The response:

“Yea, but…”

It’s always easy to point out what is wrong.

Just because something is easy does not mean that it is correct, helpful or even appropriate.

Even if there is something obviously wrong with the advice, this does not mean that it should not be entertained. We are so quick to dismiss a friend’s ‘actionable-theory’, and yet we forget another common default:

“In theory that sounds good, but in practice....?”

But what if a so-so theory leads to an action in practice that results in something good? Something unexpected and surprising?

We know there is a disconnect between theory and practice. And yet we acknowledge it only when it caters to our lazier selves, when trying out the theory requires action: In theory that sounds good but in practice it will probably fail….so there’s no point in trying. We do the opposite, we ignore the hazy connection between theory and practice when it might require action. The friend’s theory might have flaws, but taking action on it might produce beneficial surprises, because… theory never predicts the results of practice perfectly. We ignore the fact that any action based on any theory (no matter how flawed) leads to more information than doing nothing. This is why it's good to SAMPLE ALL THE KOOL-AIDES. Sampling does not require full, devoted adherence. But it gives us far more information than doing nothing.

How about this: “It sounds like it has some flaws, but I'm going to try it anyway, just to see what happens. Just for shits and giggles.”

Usually we just want to talk, and try to make ourselves feel better via the talking. But the tiny sense of accomplishment that comes with talking things through does not last. It does not change our life. Often it's best to just shut-up and TRY something. . . anything.

Some talk can be productive. But never without succeeding actions based on theories batted around by caring people.

The critic is our easy default.

Refraining from expressing the criticizing thought. Pausing. Asking what actually might help move something forward. What actions might bring more informed answers. What experiments on reality might yield a stronger more detailed map of the world.… This is the better, difficult work.

Being a critic is easy. It’s like getting served a nice big juicy meal that required no effort. All that is required is the experience of devouring and destroying it and broadcasting whatever emotional reaction it “inspires.”

Better to be a cook, or rather: a chef. 

Get in the kitchen, and throw some ingredients together and see what we can create.

It requires action.

CHILDISH RECURSION: THE WHY-SHOVEL

June 1st, 2018

This Episode references Episode 30: The Only Tool.  If you’d like to fully understand the reference, best to check out that episode first.

What is that question that children are always asking?

Why?

. . .

But why?

. . .

But why?

Each answer we give is a layer of understanding, and a child is quick to whip out The Why-Shovel and dig a little deeper.  It is the most basic example of THE ONLY TOOL we have – the question – sharpening itself.  In lieu of the skill of forming a better question, merely repeating the question requests a better answer.  It sharpens the answer in lieu of a sharper question.

This is a fucking superpower.

A superpower that eventfully gets stomped on by some exhausted, overworked, adult who is giving the quickest, easiest answer in the hopes that the questioning will stop. This is understandable because it is just that much more difficult to pause, listen deeply and thoughtfully respond when perpetually exhausted, overworked and looking for relief. 

The irony is that one deeply thoughtful answer about the subject eliminates the need for answering 100 questions. Each shallow answer is poked at with another question, because the answer did not go deep enough. Hence the recursive question: but why?

Instead we teach children to answer good questions with quick shallow answers. Monkey see, monkey do. And this behavior says: look, there are good deep questions, but you’ll get by just fine if you just answer them quickly and move on – it really doesn’t matter if you answer it well, just get it over with.

No wonder they grow up and do exactly the same thing to the new generation of children.

Perhaps what is really lost is the opportunity to teach the child how to think.

Somehow the kid can see the shallowness of the answer and so asks again. The kid is looking for something more interesting, something for the brain to chew on.

What if we answer a question with a question? What a question.

What if the child is looking for more than just an answer? What if the child is looking for a way to think?

What is the method of thinking we impart? A quick shallow answer will do just fine. Don’t bother putting thought into it.

Most all of us experienced this. Whether it be a parent, or a teacher who was particularly poor in their ability to choose a profession. We have all had plenty of influences that say: look, you don’t need to be thoughtful, you don’t need to dig deep, you don’t need a better question or a better answer. You’ll get by just fine without any of that.

What if for a moment we entertain the possibility of going back to our child selves and changing the way that all went down?

What would have been a better response when you asked that inevitable question: but why?

“Well what do you think?”

“What if I weren’t here, how would you try to find the answer?”

“Are there any experiments you can do to try and find out?”

“I don’t know, so let’s find out.”

But that can’t happen. We can’t go back in time. We can’t re-rear ourselves to our liking. Often we see the next generation as the hope and opportunity and then simply make the same mistakes based on those age-old examples. 

But what about who we are now? 

What about the questions we ask ourselves today?

Can we apply some of this childish recursion to ourselves? And to our own lives?

The gift is that we have the power to answer these questions.

We just need to resurrect the habit of asking.

If we could muster just a fraction of that childish recursion, how far might it push our understanding on any given subject? How might it open up the possibilities?

We are so quick to say: I can’t. . .

What if we replace that with:

Why not?

or

What if?

and

Well, let’s find out.