First, unrelated to podcasting, I’d like to jump on my soapbox about keeping a personal journal. It takes a lot of effort, but it is invaluable for getting perspective on one’s own life. It’s also just plain fun to read your own thoughts many years later. The best day to start journaling was yesterday; but today would also be good.
December 27th 2016 is my “okay, fine, I’m starting a podcast” date. The first episode of the Movers Mindset podcast (with a different name back then) came out in early January 2017. So—despite my disbelief and denial—it’s been 7 years. And 2,000 episodes? …I don’t know the exact number, but it also seems impossible.
Some things I’ve done on purpose. What happens if you try to publish a daily show for four years? What happens if you have a show you love and just ignore the urge (and advice) to publish on a schedule, and instead just put them out whenever?
Some things have just been a delightful surprise. The times people surprise me and ask me to join them on their show. The countless conversations next-to the conversation that became a podcast. The countless hours of my life spent with others who are passionate about podcasting. The times I’ve said, “Hello, I’m Craig Constantine” in person, and been recognized by the sound of my voice! And, when someone says that some podcast conversation really helped them as a listener, or as a guest.
I’ve taken the enormous amount of opportunity, resources, luck and others’ passion that I’ve been so generously given, and poured in as much of my own (passion, time, energy, blood, sweat, tears, money) as I can. The result has been miraculous.
This post is prompted by someone asking me how many years it’s been… and my stumbling over the math. Hey, thanks Özlem, for asking.
Takeaway? CYCLES!
Everything flows and ebbs. Be grateful for the flow and for the ebb. You already know that. I already knew that before Dec 27, 2016. The takeaway is to find a way to be reminded of this.
I hope you’re doing well, and I wish you the strength and courage to move along your own path tomorrow, next month, next year, and beyond.
It takes some commitment to decide. I find my urge is to wriggle. My urge is to try to keep my options open. My urge is to take on more. In the case of this little missive, I mean to seek more and more information. To go beyond actively seeking, to passively permitting more and more things to flow at me.
Does this content move me closer to or further from my ultimate aim? If what we consume becomes our thoughts, our thoughts become our actions, and our actions become our character, can I give the things I watch, listen to, and read — the things I’m turning into — a grade of B or above? The lure of a compelling headline aside, does this topic actually interest me? Does this content educate and edify? And when I’m seeking pure entertainment, which everyone sometimes needs, does it at least not appeal to the most reptilian part of my brain, and make me feel lower, baser, and stupider as a result?
Still, I resist the urge to decide and invite the self-made disaster of overwhelm. Why? Because it takes real courage, in the presence of others and in the presence of others’ vociferous opinions… It takes courage for me to say, “I don’t know.”
It can go well, my sitting and thinking. But only if there’s actually something that requires solving. Far too often I’m just spinning my wheels. Like one of those old-timey air raid sirens that staaaaaaaaaaaaaarts low and slow and builds to a heinous scream. A heinous scream in my head. Fun times.
Focusing on concrete things. For me, I think all of the supposedly therapeutic effect of not thinking comes from having to focus on moving carefully, from being actively distracted from my flywheel mind.
It’s not practical for me to shift by mental effort away from the heinous scream of the flywheel mind. Physical activity works, though. I take my screaming mind and taunt myself thinking, (read this in Condescending Wonka voice) “yes, interesting, oh yes, tell me more about that, yes…”, while moving. Lots of kinds of movement work, like yoga or running. Not light-silly-fun movement, but rather concerted, hard-working movement.
I’m intrigued by the word hunger. It can convey so much more than the simple hunger for food. It’s power begins to show when deployed as hunger for nourishment— Hunger for freedom— Hunger for power. For as long as I can remember I’ve struggled with body image. I feel like that’s a better way to convey the feeling instead of a more surface-level, “struggled with weight.” Only a precious few times (in my 50+ laps around ‘ol Sol) have things around me lined up, juust right, and I’ve found myself in a shape to my liking; Found myself in a shape that enabled me to do what I wanted.
Hunger isn’t in your stomach or your blood-sugar levels. It’s in your mind—and that’s where we need to shape up.
The word I’ve been meditating on recently is ease. To avoid hunger (not just hunger for food, all the hungers) I must be in ease. Easy to say, impossible to do, but just maybe it’s be–able.
Coincidence appears often in our lives: For example, my turning on a light in my apartment building, at the moment someone else is looking up. This simple event—that perfectly timed light just as they look up—might strike them as being significant. But for me it may go unnoticed as an unremarkable moment. The perception of meaning in that coincidence depends on our contexts. It’s the context that is the special part, not the event itself. Understanding that, makes it possible to shift our perspectives.
Sonder: n. the realization that each random passerby is the main character of their own story, living a life just as vivid and complex as your own, while you are just an extra in the background
~ “Sonder” is credited to John Koenig
I’m just the random person flipping on a light. That other person, who I don’t even know is out there, is the main character of their story. But it’s just a coincidence.
Thirty years ago I bought a calculator. An HP-42S which, to this day, works perfectly in every respect. The keys don’t just still work but they are in perfect condition. They softly bump (the way a modern phone’s haptic motor dreams it might some day bump) and their labels remain pristine. It’s clearly a marvel of over-engineering. It takes 3 little button batteries, and they last about 3 or 4 years. When I bought it, it was moderately expensive. Not expensive per se, but also not something I’d want to lose. So I put a little white label inside the battery door and I wrote the date and my first name. (And I did once leave it in a laboratory, and retrieved it from lost+found by saying, “my name is inside.”) Being insane, I even wrote the month/year on that label as I changed the batteries. After about 15 years, the label was full and I stopped writing dates. A few days ago—on December 16th to be exact—the battery indicator said it was again, time. Normally (read “ALWAYS”), I’m a “jump up and do it now” sort of person. Instead, for no particular reason, I turned off my faithful 42S and simply set it aside. The very next day, I got three new batteries, opened the little battery door…
And it was December 17th. I bought my calculator on December 17, 1993. There I was, changing the batteries on December 17th, 2023. Exactly 30 years. It’s just an interesting coincidence, right?
I have a routine with my journaling. Over time, that routine has changed a lot and I’m sure it will evolve farther. Currently, I start a clean A5-sized face of a page for each day. I do not read the previous day’s entry; I’m never trying to continue where I left off in my thinking as I journal. No, the journal is simply a place for me to talk to my future self. Here’s why I did that thing I did. Here’s this really great idea… but I’m letting go of it, and writing it down hoping future-me gets a chuckle at the dumb idea I was wise to drop. Sometimes I record really big wins. Sometimes I record really big losses. A wedding! A birth! A death! But mostly, I’m just capturing how I feel, why I feel, what I think, why I think, … Sometimes I spend hours painstakingly handwriting long texts. Sometimes it’s just 60-seconds and a bulleted list. Vanishingly rare is a sketch. Occasionally a flourish of colored-penciling. There are often inset headings in block letters at the sides as signposts—first instance of this, last instance of that.
What are the connections between movement as a language, mindfulness, and personal development?
Vincent Thibault joins Craig to discuss the dance between movement and mindfulness, and the balance of effort and ease in training Art du Déplacement.
You don’t have to pretend that you’re in top shape. If you’re not in top shape that very day you just do what you can. You can be yourself and the whole notion of ease is actually very profound, and that’s where my personal training connects with meditation […] One of the first things we learn with Buddhist Meditation is to be friends with yourself. I don’t want to confuse the whole discussion and mix our metaphors here, but there’s this notion of learning to be friends with your own mind, and that can translate into the way you approach movement and any kind of training.
~ Vincent Thibault 35:55
Vincent, a dedicated Buddhist practitioner, engages with Craig in a dynamic conversation encompassing spiritual insights merged with movement philosophy. They discuss the balance between effort and ease within training, stressing the importance of adapting to personal circumstances over time. They touch on Buddhist teachings in the context of physical discipline, emphasizing mindfulness, authentic connection, and embracing change as core tenets of their practice.
[Connection] also means that you could be connected to the people who have been practicing this before you. Whether you’ve learned from the Yamakasi or somebody else, you can acknowledge that. You can appreciate what you’ve received from them. And there’s also connection with the people who will come after you. Because—sorry to deliver the news—but you won’t be there forever and you won’t be coaching forever if you’re a coach. And you won’t be moving in the same way forever, and you don’t know when you’re going to see it.
~ Vincent Thibault 37:30
Throughout their exchange, Vincent and Craig explore the nuances of effort in training, highlighting the significance of finding ease alongside dedication. They go into the broader concept of ‘connection,’ extending beyond physicality to encompass energy levels, environment, and a respectful acknowledgment of both predecessors and successors in the discipline.
They discuss how cultivating internal ease can transcend into disciplined practices, fostering mindfulness and self-acceptance. Vincent underlines the necessity of adaptation, advocating for working with present circumstances rather than fixating on an idealized version of practice.
Takeaways
Effort and Ease — Emphasizing the balance between effort and ease in training, stressing the importance of finding fulfillment in the process rather than solely fixating on results.
Connection Beyond Physicality — The notion of connection expands to encompass various dimensions, including relationships with training partners, acknowledgment of predecessors, and a connection to one’s own energy levels and environment.
Adaptation as Vital — The conversation underscores the significance of adapting to circumstances, encouraging practitioners to work with their current situation rather than against it.
Integration of Buddhist Philosophy — Buddhist principles blend with movement philosophy, highlighting mindfulness, authenticity, and self-acceptance as integral components of disciplined practice.
Authenticity in Practice — Being authentic with oneself and others in training is emphasized, encouraging individuals to be genuine about their abilities, limitations, and present state of being.
Resources
Parkour & Art du déplacement: Lessons in practical wisdom – Leçons de sagesse pratique — Vincent Thibault’s 2015 book discussed in the podcast. The book contains both the French and English text. Don’t confuse it with the similarly named, but completely different book, “Parkour and the Art du déplacement: Strength, Dignity, Community”, published in 2014.
Carrefours Azure (French-language site) — Vincent’s book publishing company founded in 2016. Fiction and nonfiction. A small publishing house with an innovative and ecological model: books are printed on demand, in Quebec or in France depending on the customer’s shipping address (no pulping, minimal transportation). For every book sold directly on Carrefours azur’s website, a percentage is given back to a green initiative or a humanitarian cause.
Vincent Thibault (French-language site) — Vincent’s personal web site.
Study inspired by… — A series of blog posts, circa 2015, written by Craig, mentioned in this podcast.
“All work an no play makes Jack a dull boy.” It’s one of those life-truths that we all know, but which I slowly, increasingly, failed to heed. Doing some things mattered to get to some goals. Other things didn’t seem directly related. Choice by choice is how a life gets made.
Today’s world is a deeply utilitarian one, where everything must have a use or be ‘good for something’. Our lives are dominated by work and, unless we have been extraordinarily lucky, we work not because we particularly enjoy it but to get paid — payment that keeps us and our loved ones alive for a while and, if there is anything left over, allows us to do something more interesting than the work. Our lives are spent, largely, doing one thing for the sake of something else, which is in turn done for something else.
It’s not that the things I chose to do became less fun—more ‘good for something’… No. It’s that I was choosing. Play happens in that liminal space where the “yes, and…” of improvisation is the only choice.
Literally for writing, but metaphorically in general. Discipline is the only way. Discipline does not mean one has to be austere; It implies clarity and fidelity about one’s goals. Discipline is deeply tied to affecting real change within oneself and to personal integrity.
Discipline, primarily, is our capacity to make a commitment in time.
Motivation will get you out the door, but it fades over time. A good book or podcast might give you the momentary impulse to take your first steps along a path, but when the road gets tough only discipline will keep you moving forward.
Without discipline I’m the pinball in the pachinko machine: I’m clearly directed (me by my goal, the pinball by gravity) but buffeted randomly (me by everything, the pinball by the pins) ending up in an uncontrolled final position. The critical thing to combine with discipline is ease. Not bashing, not self-loathing and certainly not self-violence. Ease within training.
Each year I choose a word or short phrase as a reminder. I use it as a talisman throughout the year. Some years I’ve chosen something to keep me mindful of a goal, and in other years something to keep me away from a pitfall or mistake I see that I’m too-often making. In the most recent years I’ve been choosing something aspirational; I’ve been choosing something which every day—even after 365 days—reminds me of where I want to be going.
You can also see how it might similarly interfere with your ability to change your beliefs in pursuit of the truth – it’s hard to let go of false beliefs when they feel true because you believe them. It’s hard to imagine things from perspectives that are not your own. It’s hard to accept that you are limited and fallible, prone to error.
For 2024 I’m choosing the word humility. There are lots of reasons why I think humility is a virtue. But I’m picking it because it feels difficult for me to aspire to being more humble. I have clear evidence (journaling for the win) that humility is a powerful antidote to my occasional fits of petulance. And, as an echo of Yoda‘s wisdom, putting a fine point on something I can improve, by making it my touchstone for 2024 is the way forward for me.
As we’re approaching the end of 2023 I’m sure you, Dear Reader, have already begun some self-reflection. I wish you peace and flourishing for the coming year and I look forward to our continued journey together. Cheers!
