This practice is one form of what Shinzen Young would call “Noting Gone.” (He uses gone as a noun here, a certain kind of sensation, rather than an adjective.) What you’re noting is the moment where a thing goes from being here in your awareness to being gone from it, and the feeling of that moment. It doesn’t matter what the thing is –- a fish, an LED light, a musical note, a shape formed by drooping power lines. It also doesn’t matter how it vanishes — by slipping beneath the surface, by turning off, by going silent, by exiting your field of vision. In all cases the this gone quality has the same feel. It is the unmistakable, mildly surreal sensation of a thing having vanished.
This piece is a real splinter in my mind. I feel certain I’ve seen the “noting gone” concept before… but I can’t definitely find it. Perhaps I’m recalling that I read this very article, 6 months ago, AND marked it for reading later. So now I’m actually reading it a second time . . . It is definitely an unmistakable, mildly surreal sensation of a thing having vanished.
Also, in my quest to dig out the splinter, I searched for “gone” and got an interesting in itself set of posts.
I marked this for “read later” back in December 2021, and am just getting around to reading it. I know that many—most? all?—of the amazing coincidences I find in my life arise from my innate, monkey-brain drive to see patterns and causation where none actually exists. I don’t care. It’s a nice coincidence that I’ve just gotten around to reading this, while in the past couple of weeks I’ve been simplifying and focusing on a small number of things that I want to be working on.
I just want to say that sometimes the things we do online have outsized consequences in the real world. It’s easy to forget that there are real people behind every screen. I forget about that almost every day but better people than me provide some good reminders.
My title refers to the fact that it’s only been four months, and this link has already rotted. In September 2021 I marked this for later reading, (note the /2021/09/ in that URL,) and I only just got around to reading it. I read it as a locally-cached copy in my read-later software, and then realized the link was dead when I tried to write this blog post… :(
I’m so sorry. It was a nice piece about how he had reread some Vonnegut over the pandemic year and… and… it’s already gone?!
“With the publication of Fahrenheit 451, you were hailed as a visionary. What would you warn us about today? Our education system has gone to hell. It’s my idea from now on to stop spending money educating children who are sixteen years old. We should put all that money down into kindergarten. Young children have to be taught how to read and write.”
INTERVIEWER With the publication of Fahrenheit 451 , you were hailed as a visionary. What would you warn us about today?
BRADBURY Our education system has gone to hell. It’s my idea from now on to stop spending money educating children who are sixteen years old. We should put all that money down into kindergarten. Young children have to be taught how to read and write. If children went into the first grade knowing how to read and write, we’d be set for the future, wouldn’t we? We must not let them go into the fourth and fifth grades not knowing how to read. So we must put out books with educational pictures, or use comics to teach children how to read. When I was five years old, my aunt gave me a copy of a book of wonderful fairy tales called Once Upon a Time , and the first fairy tale in the book is “Beauty and the Beast.” That one story taught me how to read and write because I looked at the picture of that beautiful beast, but I so desperately wanted to read about him too. By the time I was six years old, I had learned how to read and write.
We should forget about teaching children mathematics. They’re not going to use it ever in their lives. Give them simple arithmetic—one plus one is two, and how to divide, and how to subtract. Those are simple things that can be taught quickly. But no mathematics because they are never going to use it, never in their lives, unless they are going to be scientists, and then they can simply learn it later. My brother, for example, didn’t do well in school, but when he was in his twenties, he needed a job with the Bureau of Power and Light. He got a book about mathematics and electricity and he read it and educated himself and got the job. If you are bright, you will learn how to educate yourself with mathematics if you need it. But the average child never will. So it must be reading and writing. Those are the important things. And by the time children are six, they are completely educated and then they can educate themselves. The library will be the place where they grow up.
What if there was a way for parents to obtain age-appropriate reading material for their children at a very affordable cost?
Suppose we nationally produced different series of books — picture books, alphabet books, then word books, early readers etc. Certainly, it would be difficult to decide at a national level what should be in the books, but common ground could be reached. Our existing elementary educators would know what would best merge with our education systems already in place. We’d have a massive economy of scale producing these materials, and they could be distributed through the schools.
This seems like it wins in several ways: Easier for the parents, more children exposed to reading and exposed sooner, and more parent involvement with their child’s education. Furthermore, the private sector could produce side tracks (which would be available through retail, not through the schools); This would be similar material but perhaps in additional languages; Or there could be cultural and heritage specific tracks that parents could purchase if they wish.
How can podcasters build meaningful relationships that expand their reach, create new opportunities, and grow their shows—without relying on promotion or algorithms?
A five-step method helps you land dream collaborations by being helpful, not pushy.
[One little shift?] That’s it. If I hadn’t have gone to that event, if I hadn’t have just dumped my coat and helped direct people, if I hadn’t offered to help for free, if I hadn’t got to know the team, if I hadn’t, if I’d asked for the wrong thing or too much or too, I don’t know if I’d got the ask wrong, any one of those things could have ended up being like a Sliding Doors [the 1998 film -ed] moment where I then I go from 3000 leads to just going about my life as a coach.
~ Robin Waite (15:00)
Robin Waite shares how he reinvented his business growth strategy by focusing on building partnerships rather than following conventional marketing playbooks. Feeling burnt out by social media and traditional outreach, he adopted an “outside-in” approach—intentionally targeting people he admired, getting in the same room with them, and offering help without expectation. His approach centers on showing up, adding value, and making intentional asks that are aligned with what others actually need.
He illustrates this with a detailed story of how he ended up as a guest on Ali Abdaal’s Deep Dive podcast, which generated over 3,000 leads and $300,000 in business. Key elements included making himself useful at events, building relationships with team members, and being ready with a modest but well-timed ask. Waite expands on this philosophy by identifying five steps: be intentional, get in the room, be helpful, find the inside person, and offer something on a silver platter. The conversation underscores the power of authentic connection, strategic generosity, and long-term thinking in business development.
Takeaways
Intentional targeting of collaborators — Write down a list of specific individuals or brands that feel like a natural fit for connection and mutual value.
Be physically present and engaged — Attend events in person, sit in the front row, and look for ways to directly interact with people you admire.
Generosity without expectation — Offer help freely without asking for anything in return, and allow opportunities to arise organically.
Use social cues to create asks — Make requests that are context-aware, modest, and well-timed based on what you’ve learned about the other person’s situation.
Relationship-building is long-term — Partnerships can take months or even years to develop, and consistent presence matters more than speed.
Imposter syndrome is common — Many successful people share similar doubts and insecurities, making them more approachable than they appear.
Ask through value — Frame your request as a contribution or offer rather than a favor, focusing on what the other person would gain.
The power of introductions — Introducing others who might benefit from knowing each other is a high-leverage, generous act that strengthens your own relationships.
Reciprocity as rocket fuel — Gifts, paid gestures, or generous actions can accelerate connection when done thoughtfully and in alignment with mutual respect.
Avoid transactional thinking — Relationships thrive on genuine interest and value-sharing, not on immediate or one-sided exchanges.
There’s something I believe in greatly: intuition. At one point when I had finished my second year at the American Film Institute,I desperately felt my character as a human being needed a political waking up. I felt that I was too naïve. I ended up doing a Frontline piece on El Salvador that led me to working with Oliver. I wanted something, I was given a sign, and I followed it. That’s what I mean by intuition — and I believe that each step of the way I have gone I have been given these fortunate signs and I’ve been able to see them and to move with them.
People who self-identify as creatives make this point quite often: They are fortunate in opportunities. But the key to their success was in being able to see it, and in having the courage to try.
What’s the longest stretch you’ve gone, away from your love of podcast creation?
For obvious reasons (in case you missed it) I’ve not been doing much in the way of podcasting this year. The last episode I published was March 28th, 2024— so about 8 months now. I’m at a point now, where I’ve enough health that it would be possible to resume . . .
I miss having the conversations, and I even miss doing the uncelebrated work (which we all know so well!) to get them published. But I don’t miss the grind… that treadmill feeling of always having some next thing that could be done.
What’s stopped you in the past? How did you get back on the bicycle? Why did you get back on the bicycle?
I don’t have a login for Substack (an intentional choice) so I cannot reply there. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I have changed the name of a podcast. The Movers Mindset show had a very different name in the beginning. For me, I realized I was always spending time explaining the meaning of the name— and I realized I wanted to spend that time explaining the show itself rather than the odd name I had.
So I think that’s one reason to change a name: When the name just doesn’t fit.
When people ask me this, I direct them first to Eric Nuzum’s classic question: Can you describe your show in 12 words? …10 words?
Our show titles don’t have be our one (or 2 or 3 even) word answer to that question. But I think they have to at least not detract from describing our show.
How can we know if an idea is a good one? This time on Out on the Wire, we investigate how to refine story ideas using the focus sentence and the X/Y story formula. Plus, Ira Glass recounts a reporting trip gone sideways and Jay Allison’s takedown of formulaic storytelling.
The negative point in the quote below is obvious, but it bears repeating since, somewhere, there’s some excited youngling rushing to build technology and online communities . . .
We thought that we could build new communities online that could replace the ones we’d built in real life (IRL), but we were wrong. As internet usage has gone up and face time has gone down, we’ve become more isolated, depressed, and in some cases, violent. We are as unhappy as we have been in a long time.
Everything goes in cycles, right? Back in the 90s, we became excited about “4th generation” programming languages. In short, programming is very difficult and so people write programs, and they write tools to help them write programs. Eventually, those tools are really just new programming languages… and the rising tide (lifting all the boats) has gone up a generation.
Today, with a few commands and a couple of lines of code, we can prototype almost any idea. All the tools that we now have available make it easier than ever to start something new. But the upfront cost that these frameworks may save in initial delivery eventually comes due as upgrading and maintaining them becomes a part of our technical debt.
Keep in mind that the rising tide does not move the foundation layers at the beginning/bottom. There’s ever-increasing distance between the hardware at the bottom, and the “surface” of the rising tide at the top. Yes, sure, we refer to the increasing complexity of keeping all the stuff (from foundation to surface) maintained and working as technical debt.
The part that bends my mind is this: There’s more and more room (from the foundations to the surface) for an increasing number of people to find things (places in the layers, particular technologies) that they love. Yes, the technical debt increases… Yes, non-human intelligence is coming… But there’s more—every day—space in those layers for so many people (and non-humans) to find their passion and craft and art!
I write here a great deal about journaling. It’s not lost on me that in a way, what I write here is a sort of journal. I began by creating small journals for specific trips where selecting the journal itself was part of the trip preparation. Soon I began using dedicated journals and started writing when I felt like it. The more I wrote, the more I appreciated the practice. I’m long convinced that the mind is for having ideas, not for holding them. In fact, often I use my journals to chase things out of my mind; get thee gone flittering woes and flocking shoulds!
Lately, I’ve been dipping into my personal archives – specifically, my old journals – to reacquaint myself with the person I was 20 years ago, doing remote fieldwork in the Canadian Arctic for eight weeks each summer. I’m writing a book, you see, about my experiences as a field scientist, and though my memories of that time seem strong, I’m still surprised by some of what appears in my journals. For example, I didn’t remember arriving in the field as early as I did one year, or the level of frustration I had when some of my equipment didn’t work. My journals bring these events back to me, in full colour and precise detail, allowing me to add lyrical descriptions and scenes to my book.
One day—yes I could look it up—I sat down and figured out a way to be able to review all my handwritten journals based on the dates of the entries. (Relax, you can see there’s no wall of text coming. I’m not going to explain it.) Now, when I sit down to journal, I can flit back to any point. I don’t know how to explain how powerful that is. I know me best. Absolutely, 100%, no exaggeration, no wiggle room, the big lessons I’ve learned through my own hard work of listening(!), reflecting, journaling and reviewing said journaling.
Whoever wants life must go softly towards life, softly as one would go towards a deer and fawn that are nestling under a tree. One gesture of violence, one violent assertion of self-will and life is gone. […] But with quietness, with an abandon of self-assertion and a fullness of the deep true self one can approach another human being, and know the delicate best of life, the touch.
What strategies and challenges are involved in creating, refining, and promoting a podcast to reach a broader audience while maintaining its authenticity and personal enjoyment for the host?
Rob Wreglesworth and Craig Constantine dive into the challenges of podcasting, focusing on the unexpected joys and hurdles they encounter.
The willingness of of people to lend their time so generously I think is probably the thing that surprised me the most
~ Rob Wreglesworth, 2:11
One of the key topics they explore is the impact of podcasting on connecting with people they previously thought were out of reach. Rob shares his astonishment at how podcasting has opened doors to in-depth conversations with innovators and leaders who would otherwise be inaccessible. This revelation highlights podcasting’s unique power to facilitate meaningful dialogue and share insightful stories with a wider audience.
[Something might be] mundane and old hat to me, but could be really interesting and insightful to a listener. So I’ve gone to the other end of the spectrum now and just decided to ship the whole conversation pretty much unedited—unless there’s any horrendous bits that need cutting out. That’s definitely helped me cut down [time spent].
~ Rob Wreglesworth, 19:25
Another significant part of their conversation revolves around the technical and creative aspects of podcasting, such as editing and the use of AI tools. They discuss the delicate balance between over-editing and maintaining the authenticity of the conversation, emphasizing the importance of letting the natural flow of dialogue guide the editing process.
Additionally, they touch on the innovative use of AI, like ChatGPT, to enhance the podcasting process, from generating episode notes to improving show discoverability. This exploration sheds light on the evolving landscape of podcasting, where technology plays a crucial role in enhancing content quality and listener experience.
Takeaways
The power of podcasting — reveals its unique ability to connect with thought leaders and innovators previously considered unreachable, highlighting the medium’s capacity for in-depth and meaningful conversations.
The surprise of generosity — discusses how individuals are often more willing to share their time and stories on podcasts than expected, offering rich, engaging content for listeners.
Editing for authenticity — explores the balance between editing content for clarity and preserving the natural flow of conversation, emphasizing the importance of authenticity in engaging the audience.
The use of AI in podcasting — touches on innovative ways to utilize AI tools like ChatGPT for enhancing the podcasting process, from generating episode notes to improving show discoverability and listener engagement.
The challenge of verbal ticks — addresses the continuous effort to improve speaking skills, including the identification and reduction of verbal ticks, to ensure clear and effective communication.
The evolution of content strategy — considers the decision-making process behind what content to edit out and what to keep, aiming to deliver the most value to listeners while maintaining interest and relevance.
The impact of episode notes and SEO — evaluates the effectiveness of various methods for enhancing podcast discoverability, including the debated value of publishing full transcripts for SEO purposes.
It seems I run from idleness. I’m fond of saying I should come with a warning—the kind one finds on the back of the driver’s-side sun-visor in a car: “Does not idle well.” It takes concerted effort for me to idle, and yet I cannot discern what it is that makes me run from idleness. But this guy? He seems to have gone all in…
‘Most of the time I don’t do anything. I am the idlest man in Paris … the only one who does less than I do is a whore without clients.’
Cioran may have been joking, but his idleness was serious business. It was an arduous lifetime project, into which he put his best efforts and which he served with complete dedication.
Honestly? My first thought was how does such a person support themselves? (They don’t. Others do.) After dialing down my snark, I was left noticing that there’s a sharp polarization to elevate idleness to a virtue, or to revile it as glorified laziness. Nonetheless, I must admit that to be idle requires me to first say ‘no’ to many ideas, things and opportunities. So maybe that’s the key: To be self-aware enough to thread my way between those two poles?
My journey of growth has been ascending levels of perspective shifts. Some of us don’t get to go on that journey because of external and evil forces or because of the random, initial conditions they drew at the beginning of their lives. While I don’t understand what my self even is, I do understand that hiding—ignoring reality—is not going to move me further along on my journey of self-discovery.
“Daytime” is us closing our eyes and pretending it makes infinity go away.
Munroe has gone on quite a journey. I think everyone far enough along on their needs-satisfaction curve (anyone who’s ever watched entertainment or played a video game is far enough along) would be moved, inspired, made to laugh and cry, by reading all of Munroe’s cartoons.
This cartoon is number 2,849. He publishes a cartoon Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. So, he’s published cartoons for about 950 weeks. About 18 years.
I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.
I recently realized I’ve wasted 23 years. Way back in 1990 a good friend gave me a CD of MCMXC A.D. by Enigma. It was mind bending, and remains so; to this day, I use it when I really need to zone out and not quite sleep, but rest. It’s an album which I have never once listened to a single track separately. I’ve only ever started at the front and gone straight through.
The other day, I thought: I should see what else Enigma (the brain child of Michael Cretu) may have done since 1990. Followed by my ordering all of the other seven albums. I buy the CDs used, and that means they tend to trickle to my doorstop over a few weeks. Oh. I’ve turned into a lunatic, listening to music far too loud in the house. I’ve recently done this with other artists and suddenly I’m up to my eyeballs in great (in my opinion) music.
So, why 23 years wasted? The Screen Behind the Mirror was released in 2000. I’ve therefore wasted 23 years worth of opportunities to play it.
Basically I had just aged myself by twenty minutes. Two virtual cigarettes, and not even a fading buzz to show for it. I learned nothing, gained nothing, made no friends, impacted the world not at all, did not improve my mood or my capacity to do anything useful. It was marginally enjoyable on some reptile-brain level, sure, but its ultimate result was only to bring me nearer to death. Using my phone like that was pure loss of life — like smoking, except without the benefits.
I’ve no idea if you like Enigma. (You can thank me later if you just discovered Enigma and do like it.) But there simply must be some music that you do like! …find which music it is, buy a copy of it in whatever medium you prefer, and spend that twenty minutes—and the next 23 years, if you’re lucky—leaning into that stuff.
I have several projects where there’s no end-game. (I’d argue all of my passion projects have no end-game.) The process of doing the creative work is the entire point. Do the thing, because doing the thing is some combination of “I enjoy it”, “I can rationalize the necessary parts I don’t enjoy” and “it’s making the world a better place.”
So you start. You do these trivial first actions, because they’re so stupidly easy, and then you’re working on the task. You’re inside the compound. You’re no longer trying to “get started.” Most of the resistance is gone, it’s clear enough what to do next, and it feels good to continue.
Rest. Reflect. Recalibrate. …was a wonder-filled takeaway from Trust Yourself by Melody Wilding. There was a little diagram of those three in a circle: Rest pointing to Reflect pointing to Recalibrate pointing to Rest. I am forever and ever imagining my projects as some sort of steady-state of affairs. Start the thing and then “just” do the thing. Forever. Forever? No. “What came before?” is, for me, the wrong question. How am I honestly feeling about whatever-it-is right now? That’s right. That just is. That’s how I am today. Okay, what comes next? Do I need to rest, reflect, or recalibrate?
After this era of great pilots is gone, as the era of great sea captains has gone — each nudged aside by the march of inventive genius, by steel cogs and copper discs and hair-thin wires on white faces that are dumb, but speak — it will be found, I think, that all the science of flying has been captured in the breadth of an instrument board, but not the religion of it. One day the stars will be as familiar to each man as the landmarks, the curves, and the hills on the road that leads to his door, and one day this will be an airborne life. But by then men will have forgotten how to fly; they will be passengers on machines whose conductors are carefully promoted to familiarity with labelled buttons, and in whose minds the knowledge of the sky and the wind and the way of weather will be extraneous as passing fiction.
