I have always loved book stores. All types. All sizes. All manner of [dis]organization. When I was young, each store represented a hoard of tomes I could not even dream of possessing. How many books would I have bought? …how much money do you have? Literally. The books I did have then became valuable to me. They were precious because I had chosen them for purchase with various allotments I received; Or they were gifted to me making them both surprising and precious. To this day: Mmmmmmmm, bookstores.
Each store has its own way of embracing you, embracing the reader, and creating a sense of the universe expanding. For anybody curious and interested in printed matter, the more bookstores you go into, the more you’ll realize how many different ways there are to be curious. That helps us set a foundation to be more knowledgeable about the world we inhabit. The practical and the sheer joy of it.
In more recent years, resources have become available. These days, each time I wander into a bookstore I think: Once—just once—I’m going to clear the rest of my day, and spend it all here in this bookstore, and I’m going to buy every single book that i want. Just to see what that feels like.
I like to think that there’s nothing new on my blog. (That’s not a typo.) Rather, this is all just me working with the garage door up. I enjoyed this article from Holiday and it’s wonderful advice, which I need to hear much much more often.
Say no. Own it. Be polite when you can, but own it.
Don’t say maybe. Don’t give a bunch of reasons (which invite an argument). Don’t push it until later.
My intention here with 7 for Sunday is to give you interesting things to ponder. Sometimes I worry that I might be making your life worse by enticing you with even more rabbit holes than you’d otherwise stumble upon. This item is a sort of penance then, as I hope you have built up your nope-muscle sufficiently to get through 6 more items today.
Be sure that you’ve first fully assimilated the idea of ‘no’, above. For if you don’t, you risk the mistake I make of reflexively saying ‘yes’ to the next thing that comes up.
We do it because to stop (or pause) after Project number-1 means we are one-hit wonders. We are dabbling. We are amateurs.
To continue, on the other hand, means we are pursuing our calling as a practice.
It’s nice to find little oases of respite. It doesn’t have to be a Japanese garden, of course. You can find respite nearly anywhere.
In the 1960s, the city of Portland converted an old zoo into a 12-acre garden as part of an effort to promote peace and cultural exchange between the U.S. and Japan. The grounds have been called the most beautiful and authentic Japanese gardens outside of Japan by luminaries like Nobuo Matsunaga, the former Japanese ambassador to the United States. The teahouse, the Umami Café, strives to bring the same authentic flair to their fare. While their grassy matcha and roasted-rice teas are always on the menu, their wagashi changes with the turning of the seasons.
As Cave briefly explains, his mother had previously been a font of advice, but he’d not listened. Or perhaps he wasn’t ready to listen? Either way, I’ve totally nope never nuh-uh not me ever failed to heed words of wisdom from my mother.
What’s that? What advice has she given? I think the best would be her diet book: If it tastes good, spit it out. (That’s the whole book, not the title.) And her mother’s best advice was: Let the young ones do it.
Suppose you wanted to be surprised and delighted (and possibly intrigued and befuddled) in some field. You could start with the Top 10. Today, I’m talking about movies, so find some list of the 10 Greatest Films. This sort of listing is ubiquitous: 10 Greatest Dramas, 100 Films preserved by the U.S. Library of Congress, The British Film Institute’s (BFI) 100 Greatest Films, and on and on.
The following list from BFI is not that sort of list. Not at all.
Each of these films is one of the greatest according to just one voter in our recent Greatest Films of All Time poll; they are some of the hidden gems among the more than 4,300 films voted for by more than 2,000 participants. (For the pedantic reader, the films that got one vote each – more than we can fit in here – are all technically joint 1,956th greatest film of all time, combining the tallies of our critics’ and directors’ polls.)
Effectively, that’s a list of 101 movies which all tied for last place, in list of the top 2,000-or-so movies. Above, the BFI is showing an entirely different way to be surprised and delighted (and possibly intrigued and befuddled): Find one person who is into the thing way more than you, and ask them for a list of the greatest. On their list, it is likely there will be one which they recommend, that no one else would recommend. What is up with that one recommendation?
Any big list is created by many people collaborating and, in the end, averaging out their individual tastes. But if you ask that one really-into-it person, you’ll get a very surprising and delightful (and probably intriguing and befuddling) opinion.
It doesn’t matter how you store things, only that you do. If I know that, somewhere, I know something… and I can find it… that’s success. There are two parts to remembering (aka storing in such a way that it can be later found and used) everything: First, capture it in some form and put it somewhere intentional. Second, when you go for something and it’s not in the first place you looked (it’s instead in the 3rd place you looked), move it to the first place you looked.
These books helped educated people cope with the “information explosion” unleashed by the printing press and industrialization. They were highly idiosyncratic, personalized texts used to make sense of a new world of intercontinental trade, long distance communication, and mass media. Commonplace books could contain recipes, quotes, letters, poems, tables of weights and measures, proverbs, prayers, legal formulas, notes from sermons, and remedies for common maladies, among many other things.
Of course, the hard part is getting in the habit of capturing things. Our minds are terrible at holding ideas. Our minds are for having ideas (and composition and creation and more.) The best day to begin capturing your knowledge was yesterday. If you missed that opportunity, today is also good.
I’ve tried everything. Lists, timers, project management systems, Pomodoro, time blocking, dashes, scheduling, time tracking… everything. It turns out: There are things I enjoy doing; they get done. There are things I don’t enjoy doing; they are a struggle. This is the way.
This lie is often called “work/life balance.” And it’s a deviously demotivating false dichotomy. A narrative designed to stigmatize work and trivialize what work is really all about. It reduces transformation to a mere transaction.
There’s no need to struggle against my nature. It’s futile and that way lies madness. What remains is to reign in my Idea Monster. I also do not need to attempt everything I can possibly imagine that might be fun or productive. Essentialism is the middle road I steer towards more and more. This is the way.
There are few opportunities where I get together with other podcasters to review and improve our work. Just spend time listening to various pieces from some peers in prep for a zoom call this evening.
I’m excited to share that Jesse Danger and I have begun a new podcast show, Open + Curious. I’ve been writing up my thoughts around conversation, and this podcast is a new part of the Open + Curious project. Please consider subscribing to support our efforts.
Are you looking for ways to bring conversation alive? Then you are in the right place.
In each 15-minute episode we begin with a question, and work our way to a challenge. Some questions we explore have clear answers, and some lead to more questions and further unknowns. The challenge we seek to find, at the end of each episode, is meant to help you explore each question on your own.
I have had the privilege of standing—not in the exact cedars and mountains you’ll discover below—but nonetheless in cedars, in mountains, in northern Japan. It wasn’t a pilgrimage. But it sort of was. It was a long train ride. A very long walk. A very nearly exhausting long ascent. No guide. Just a curiosity. Just two of us. At the top… I realized that the journey—if we had wanted to continue—had only just begun. Choices about time and commitments to others were made.
As a faint mist settles in among the towering cedar trees (some more than 1,000 years old), our funeral procession slowly ascends Mt Haguro’s stone stairway. It’s summer, but the air here is still cool. When the poet Matsuo Bashō made a similar journey through these holy mountains in 1689, he wrote a haiku describing the summer wind being ‘scented’ with the clearly visible snow of Mt Gassan in the distance. Today, it smells of pine needles and earth.
Three words matter much: Not me, I’m certain I am uncertain. I’m not simply uncertain. Not simply indecisive, beset by unknowns, nor stymied by possibilities.
The virtue of intellectual humility is getting a lot of attention. It’s heralded as a part of wisdom, an aid to self-improvement and a catalyst for more productive political dialogue. While researchers define intellectual humility in various ways, the core of the idea is “recognizing that one’s beliefs and opinions might be incorrect.”
But achieving intellectual humility is hard. Overconfidence is a persistent problem, faced by many, and does not appear to be improved by education or expertise. Even scientific pioneers can sometimes lack this valuable trait.
The compass for me is, “so what?” When I’m certain of something, I ask myself: So, what? Connecting that which I’m certain of, out into the world via, “so, what?” challenges me to look at the underpinnings of my beliefs, and the integration with my knowledge in total.
“Show your work” isn’t about showing the finished work. It’s about being open and honest about the work you do. I hope that showing my work inspires others to dig into whatever it is they are passionate about. The photo the final bunch of things, all finished today, after many months of hard work… a new podcast is launched. openAndCurious.org ;)
Exploring the fine line between adversity and challenge can transform the nature of our conversations.
In the dialogue between Craig Constantine and Jesse Danger, the conversation kicks off with a contemplative inquiry into the nature of conversations themselves, particularly the nuanced differences between adversity and challenge. Craig introduces this theme by reflecting on a quote from documentary filmmaker Errol Morris, sparking a discussion on the dynamics of adversarial interviews versus those driven by genuine curiosity. The duo delves into the observation that adversarial interactions, often characterized by a gladiatorial theater, tend not to be fruitful in learning or uncovering new insights. This discussion underscores a mutual agreement on the importance of fostering conversations that are alive with exploration and inquiry rather than contention.
I agree with everything you’re saying. I think from Errol’s quote, my first reading, I was like: Well, of course, there are adversarial interviews. But as soon as I thought about it more, then I came to this idea of adversity versus challenge. [The next] thought I had was, you know, alright, what’s the opposite of adversity? […] And I feel like the opposite of adversity should be challenge.
~ Craig Constantine 2:30
As the conversation unfolds, Jesse shares personal reflections on the moments within dialogues when he finds himself opposing someone else’s thoughts or statements. He notes the standstill that arises from such opposition and shares his strategy for softening the moment to realign on common ground, emphasizing the importance of maintaining curiosity over the need to be right. This introspective sharing leads to a broader conversation about the potential for growth in challenging conversations and the difference between encountering adversity and engaging in a challenge with a mindset geared towards understanding and respect.
What I’m noticing is that adversity—maybe by definition, at least in a lot of cases—it’s a zero-sum game. “Yes, I’m right, and you’re wrong.” And, it doesn’t hold the space. I mean, this is what [Errol was] saying in the quote, it doesn’t hold the space for both of us to come to a deeper, richer conclusion or understanding about what it is that we’re saying. I think creating this as more of the Infinite game of learning… and I think that conversation is an infinite game. At the very least the conversation is, or often is, a game of trying to uncover something new and co-created together.
~ Jesse Danger 9:50
Craig and Jesse both ponder the role of the conversationalist’s stance—how one’s openness or perceived openness to challenge and adversity can significantly influence the depth and quality of the dialogue. Through their exchange, they touch upon the idea that avoiding adversity might also mean missing out on meaningful challenges, suggesting a delicate balance in aiming for conversations that are both engaging and profound.
Takeaways
Exploring conversation dynamics — the dialogue opens with a focus on transforming conversations from adversarial encounters to inquiries driven by curiosity.
Adversity vs. challenge — a central theme is the differentiation between these concepts within the context of conversations, suggesting that while both can be present, their impacts and outcomes can vastly differ.
Personal growth through dialogue — the discussion reveals a belief that challenging conversations, approached with curiosity and respect, can lead to significant personal development and deeper understanding.
The impact of adversarial approaches — there is a consensus that adversarial interviews or interactions, while potentially entertaining, are less effective for learning or gaining new insights. Strategies for realignment in conversation — one speaker shares personal strategies for softening moments of opposition to find common ground, highlighting the importance of flexibility and adaptability in discussions.
The value of curiosity over correctness — the conversation underlines the idea that maintaining curiosity, rather than striving to be right, fosters a more open and productive dialogue environment.
Navigating difficult conversations — the talk touches on the challenge of engaging in difficult conversations, suggesting that avoiding adversity can also mean missing out on meaningful challenges.
Signaling openness to challenge — it discusses how one’s perceived stance in a conversation can greatly influence its depth, suggesting that being open to challenge can enrich dialogues.
The role of mutual respect — emphasizing the need for dignity and respect for all parties in a conversation, especially when navigating challenging topics or disagreements.
Infinite game of conversation — one theme posits that conversation is an “infinite game” aimed at uncovering new insights and co-creating understanding, rather than a “zero-sum game” where one party must be right and the other wrong.
Resources
Errol Morris — A documentary filmmaker referenced for his views on adversarial interviews versus those aimed at genuine learning. Morris is known for his in-depth explorations of complex subjects through his films. His work challenges viewers to think critically about the nature of truth and the complexities of human stories.
Back in… not sure, 2020? I started a daily podcast of me simply reading quotes from my collection. Last year I decided to slow down to only 3 quotes per week. I record and schedule them in batches. Screenshot of episode 1,399 being recorded. o_O
Am I too often seeking the sense of safety or control? (And it is indeed only a sense-of. It is only an illusion.) What happened to the simple feeling of joy in being?
What this means, as I understand it, is that when we let go of all attachment to the outcome of our novel publication/album release/opening of our Thai Fusion restaurant … we shift the locus of our enterprise from the ego to the Self (or the soul if you prefer.)
The Muse likes this. Heaven likes this.
We are now operating on the plane of the soul, not the plane of the ego.
Sometimes an outcome is important; the measurements, the color, the specific dimensions. When the idea began with the intention of trading the outcome with another. But not every waking moment. Too much of that is obviously an imbalance.
I’ve spent decades wrestling with knowledge management. In the realm of systems administration, capturing obscure incantations, and the why’s and hazards that go with it are critical. I have a digital collection of notes going back more than 20 years. Yes, of course it’s named Grimoire. More recently, I started creating my own person knowledge system and ended up with my own variation of a slipbox.
For most of human history, knowledge was something completely inseparable from a particular person. It didn’t mean anything to point to a piece of knowledge without reference to the person from whose life experience it emerged. The idea of a “piece” of knowledge didn’t even make sense, as knowledge couldn’t be broken down into discrete units as long as it remained in someone’s head.
My first learning around knowledge systems was that the very act of building them is incredibly helpful at learning. The effort of composing the notes (or whatever) requires careful thinking, rethinking, adding context, imagining the future where the knowledge will be used, etc. All of which is repetition and integration—key components of learning.
My second learning has just clicked into place as I read Forte’s article: Knowledge systems are tools for later use. I used to think that by building the system up, I was somehow creating something (something as yet unknown and unexpected.) Which was silly of me, because Grimoire has taught me, over decades, that any given incantation found therein can never simply be incanted. The knowledge within is only part of the magic. Only if the knowledge within can be combined with experience and expertise will it be useful in some current endeavor. The knowledge system is working and complete as it is, if when I’m doing something, I can find the knowledge I need to continue.
