My good friend Mark Hochgesang recently invited me to be on his Heavy Hitter Sports. I have heavy imposter syndrome when it comes to talking about movement. None the less, here’s the episode…
Craig Constantine, the host of the Movers Mindset podcast, shares the wonders of parkour with host Mark Hochgesang. Craig highlights the physical & mental challenges & rewards of this one-of-a-kind sport birthed from the Paris suburbs. Parkour newcomers & veterans alike will be entertained & enlightened by Craig’s engaging storytelling.
Listeners, please subscribe to Heavy Hitter Sports wherever you listen to podcasts so that you don’t miss any future episodes. Ideally, please also rate and review the show. And share this episode with a coworker, friend or family member who it might benefit.
Feel free to reach out if you have suggestions re future episode guests or topics. Mark’s contact info is noted below. Many thanks.
Was the project worthy of us? Was it ours alone, in the sense that we were writing from our own gift … and in the face of our own fears? Did we live up to the goddess’s expectations of us? Did we live up to our own? Did we give it all we had?
There are no spotlights in the writer’s life. There’s no moment of acclamation as we tap in a putt on the 72nd green. Our moment is private. When I wrap a book, a lot of times I won’t even tell anybody.
This is self-evaluation. Self-reinforcement. Self-validation.
As usual, Pressfield is talking about writing and writers. But it made me think about how I finish with an episode…
It occurs to me that the very last things I do, are social media posts, and usual a final “hey thanks, it’s published” to the guest. I’m left [after reading pressfield’s post] wondering if I could re-imagine being done to be something I enjoy… some way to put a positive “done!” on the end.
What might that be? …maybe I print a copy of the episode notes and put it on a pile, or in a binder. …or some other way to create a visible “there’s the stuff that’s done!”
I sometimes talk about “moving forward” as a default mindset I have. For example, all other things being equal, go to the airport and wait in the terminal, not a home. But in the end, it all boils down to my having deeply apprehended the lesson that the first 90% of everything is vastly easier than the second 90%. So I generally tend to do-now, rather than wait.
It struck me that this has become a kind of dividing line between success and failure within my team. Those who haven’t worked out haven’t been able to start the clock or return the ball very quickly. It’s not just my team—it’s a source of frustration that fills the letters and dispatches of just about every great general, admiral, and leader throughout history.
Join Craig and Jesse as they challenge the urge to keep talking and explore the value of silence.
I find that when I can’t shut up, it’s usually because […] I’m trying to provide more and more and more and more and more and more context. […] it’s really a lot about hiding— So I find when I can’t shut up, It’s because I’m uncomfortable, or I’m afraid.
~ Craig Constantine (0:55)
Craig Constantine and Jesse Danger explore the reasons behind why people keep talking.
I also wonder how much of that is individual and how much of that is culturally emergent. Because I think about the space that conversation takes up. And I think that there is, for some people, an idea of taking turns. And for some people an idea of sounding really smart, or even just holding the control of the space. And I hear something there in the just putting yourself out there and letting it go. It’s kind of like pushing, pushing the ship out to water.
~ Jesse Danger (2:17)
They also discuss the value of listening and the impact it has on learning and understanding. Craig expresses a desire to talk less to maximize his learning opportunities. He believes that by not speaking, he can better engage with others and gain more insights.
Jesse shares his experience of being deeply fixated on Parkour and how it shaped his conversations, often limiting his understanding of others. Both highlight the importance of being aware of the urge to speak and the potential benefits of embracing silence to truly understand and connect with others.
Takeaways
Reasons for excessive talking — Fear and discomfort can lead to talking more to provide context and seek validation.
Cultural influences on conversation — Different cultural norms influence whether people take turns or dominate conversations.
Value of listening — Speaking less can create opportunities for learning and understanding others better.
Fixation on specific topics — An intense focus on a particular subject can limit the breadth of conversations and connections with others.
Awareness of speaking urges — Noticing the impulse to speak and understanding its motivations can enhance conversational quality.
Silent participation — Listening without speaking still contributes to the conversation and holds value.
Thinking out loud — Some people need to talk to organize their thoughts and clarify their thinking.
Circle process — Structured conversational methods like circle processes can help in exploring problems by listening to others’ interpretations and ideas.
Impact of engagement — Active engagement in a conversation from both parties enriches the interaction and learning experience.
Silence and understanding — Embracing silence can help in fully grasping and appreciating different perspectives in a conversation.
Resources
Circle process — A structured conversational method where participants take turns speaking and listening, allowing for deep reflection and shared understanding.
Auto-pilot is great. Presuming of course that one understands all the things that one is handing over to be controlled by the auto-pilot. Auto-pilot as a tool for relieving us of drudgery and opportunities for mistakes? Yes, please. As a way to shirk our responsibility to lead our lives in a fulfilling way? Not so much.
The reality is, behaviour change is hard, and many people have not been taught effective goal-setting. For example, someone might know that they’re unhappy and have intentions to change, but they focus on something too broad (‘I want to be happy’) or on what they don’t want (‘I don’t want to be depressed’). An ill-defined focus can lead to trying many things without following through on any one thing.
I wasn’t taught effective goal-setting, but I’ve got it sorted now. I find it super-effective to not always set clear goals. Set instead, aspirations. Better yet, identify inspirations and regularly update them.
Thinking about consciousness never fails to induce something like vertigo. I always have this sense of myself tipping over into some abyss. I simply, truly, have no idea at all about how consciousness works, or what my consciousness is. All the world is but a dream within a dream?
I think mindfulness’s true purpose is insight into the fundamental nature of consciousness. Mindfulness is good for producing fundamental insights into the nature of mind.
Perspective is endlessly fascinating to me. What is it like to look back on decades of one’s own efforts? What’s it like to look back on one’s efforts if they’ve shifted the world?
Three and a half decades ago, when I invented the web […]
How can we effectively handle conversations where multiple topics or threads are presented simultaneously, ensuring a balance between active listening, addressing key points, and maintaining conversational flow?
Craig Constantine and Jesse Danger explore navigating multiple topics gracefully, leveraging listening as a tool, and the nuanced dance of giving and receiving information.
Craig and Jesse discuss the intricacies of handling conversations that veer into multiple directions simultaneously. They ponder the challenges and strategies involved when participants in a conversation introduce several topics at once, emphasizing the importance of active listening as a critical response in such scenarios.
I often signpost. So Jesse says ‘a’ and ‘b’ and ‘c’ and throws all these things at me, and then I grab ‘b’ and I start talking about it. I often try to end with, “and I think I missed a lot of other things that you threw at me, Jesse.” I’ll at least raise a semaphore [that] I’m aware that I only did one, sorry. I think that may go a long way just because that’s the same type of behavior—or it comes from the same type of intention—as listening.
~ Craig Constantine (3:40)
Craig suggests that encountering multiple threads often signals a greater need for him to listen attentively, rather than attempting to contribute equally across all topics. This approach, he believes, allows for a deeper engagement with the conversation by prioritizing understanding over speaking.
The thing I do is latch on to either, whatever I’m most curious about, or more often, whatever kind of bothers me the most. If someone has a list of things that are bothering them then I’ll hop right into the one that’s not quite right. And I feel like that can really shut the conversation down.
~ Jesse Danger (2:00)
Jesse shares his tendency to focus on aspects of the conversation that either pique his curiosity or bother him the most, acknowledging that this approach might sometimes prematurely shut down the dialogue.
On the other hand, they discuss ways to acknowledge the multiple facets of a conversation without necessarily addressing each one immediately. This method involves explicitly recognizing the topics introduced by the other person, thereby validating their contributions and indicating a willingness to engage, albeit with a focused approach. Jesse and Craig explore the idea that effective conversation management requires a balance between guiding the dialogue gently and allowing the natural flow of topics, driven by the participants’ interests and passions.
I’m frequently, acutely aware of the ephemeral nature of everything I create. As I’m writing—right this moment—I’m sitting outside. The notebook computer I’m typing upon has a display—the “lid”—which is maybe one quarter inch thick. It even feels thin when I reach out and grasp it on both sides between my thumbs and forefingers; Thin, like grabbing a pinch of salt feels thin. Visually, around the display I see the table, the lawn, a tree, a garden, a shed, then other trees, houses… an entire, real world that I could, in but a moment, stand up and move into. Then I grasp this little display… everything I create is “within” the pinch of my fingers… then I tip the display towards me, and glance behind the display… nothing I create is behind the display either… from the other side—say, a passer-by’s perspective—I’m just a person, hyper-fixedly staring into the other side of the small, opaque, grey rectangle they see.
We’re at the end of a vast, multi-faceted con of internet users, where ultra-rich technologists tricked their customers into building their companies for free. And while the trade once seemed fair, it’s become apparent that these executives see users not as willing participants in some sort of fair exchange, but as veins of data to be exploitatively mined as many times as possible, given nothing in return other than access to a platform that may or may not work properly.
It’s blinding when I see something put clearly and realize just how stuck I’ve been on my own imperfect understanding. Here, have 6 what-ifs.
What if, to the contrary, positive thinking represents a biased grasp of reality? What if, when I was depressed, I learned something valuable, that I wouldn’t be able to learn at a lower cost? What if it was a collapse of illusions – the collapse of unrealistic thinking – and the glimpse of a reality that actually caused my anxiety? What if, when depressed, we actually perceive reality more accurately? What if both my need to be happy and the demand of psychotherapy to heal depression are based on the same illusion? What if the so-called gold standard of therapy is just a comforting pseudoscience itself?
All of those sentences are just couched as what-ifs to entice people to read them and consider. My opinion? Just delete all the “What if” parts and capitalize the new first letter of each of those statements. Go ahead, reread them as statements instead of questions. What if, indeed.
I picked up this book off someone’s bookshelf, thumbed through it, gave it the page 88 test, and decided it was interesting enough… and borrowed it. (It is vanishingly rare that I borrow books. I normally just buy my own and hand the potentially borrowed book back to its owner.) Over a year passed with the book untouched.
I picked it up again and spent an hour with it hopping around and again decided I did want to read it. So I bought my own copy and returned the loaner. Then one day I was preparing for some podcast conversation and (as I often do) I thought about what books I might have which are related… and, for the third time I landed in this book. I dove into the index, found something interesting related to the podcast conversation I was preparing for and got lost reading for an hour.
Okay, fine. Apparently, it’s important that I read this book. So the other day, I cracked it open at the very beginning. I find that while I often skip chapters in a book, it’s always useful to read the introduction, preface, foreword, etc. Below is the literal first paragraph in this book, which I’d not seen in my first three visits.
During rare, spontaneous moments, experiences of very special quality and great import emerge from the depths of the human brain. To each person, these awakenings seem awesomely new. What they convey is not. It is the simplest, oldest wisdom in the world. The message is that ultimate meaning is to be found in this present moment, infusing our everyday lives, here and now. But one can’t predict such major peaks of enlightenment. Their insight-wisdom is next to impossible to describe. Even so, these fragile events inspired our major religions in ways that still shape our cultural development.
If you see the book, you’ll think it’s going to be some left-brain, hyper-analytical, what forest? …it’s just trees, sort of thing. At least, that’s what I thought, each of those first three times I visited. Turns out, it’s actually 850 pages of, “Woa! That’s interesting…”
I’ve recently started reading a book about the importance of having exactly one thing upon which to focus. As with priority, becoming priorities, focusing on exactly one thing soon becomes two, and then three. Suddenly, it’s 23 things. And since the first 90% of any thing is vastly easier than the second 90%, in short order I’m busy, overwhelmed, sprinting in multiple directions. As the Russians say: Chase two rabbits and you’ll catch neither.
Do you want to be the artist who loses their joy for the process, who has strip-mined their soul in such a way that there is nothing left to draw upon? Burn out or fade away—that was the question in Kurt Cobain’s suicide note. How is that even a dilemma?
To answer Holiday’s first question I say emphatically, no! Thus I’m currently well into clearing the decks of multiple focuses. I’m imagining endings for things, major pivots and minor adjustments. There’s a great quote from Epictetus about how any idiot can steer the ship when the wind, sea and weather are good, but in challenging times all it takes is but an instant of distraction to lose the whole ship.
In college (which was before the Internet was readily accessible; before the Web was invented) was when I first encountered true information and opportunity overload. In hindsight, there really should have been a class about how that’s a real thing, and ways that one should embrace it. Not fight it. Not try to control it… but ways to embrace it.
The tradition of the commonplace book contains a central tension between order and chaos, between the desire for methodical arrangement, and the desire for surprising new links of association. The historian Robert Darnton describes this tangled mix of writing and reading […]
The point that it’s the tension that feels uncomfortable is the key that unlocked for me. Yes, there’s tension from all the complexity and voluminous information. That’s a feature to be used and leveraged, not a problem to be resolved.
Are you heading toward what you already understand or toward your unknown?
In a conversation exploring the depths of dialogue and presence, Craig and Jesse get into the intriguing parallels between Quaker meetings and Gurdjieff groups, revealing how these practices foster a deeply present state of mind, akin to a slow, thoughtful game of chess.
I Think that there’s a beautiful edge of curiosity here, around looking at the unknown, which is the utter willingness to show up, like dumbfounded, or stupid.
~ Jesse Danger (12:59)
[…] leaning into the asking-as-a-five-year-old, or asking-for-a-friend-meme. I also think [our] challenge needs to contain, letting go of the urge to control the result. [When] asking as a five-year-old, I’m not hiding from the possibility that people are going to respond, “that’s stupid, Craig.” I’m not hiding from that. I’m asking as a five year old because it challenges me to ask the simplest question.
~ Craig (13:41)
In the conversation, Craig and Jesse dig into the intricacies of meaningful dialogue, emphasizing the value of approaching conversations without an agenda or purpose. They discuss the concept of dialogue as proposed by David Bohm in his book “On Dialogue”, emphasizing the importance of creating a space free from authority or hierarchy. This concept aligns with Jesse’s experiences in Gurdjieff groups and Quaker meetings, where a deeply present state of mind is cultivated, devoid of ego and personal agendas.
The dialogue further explores the idea of conversations being like a slow, thoughtful game of chess, requiring patience, presence, and a willingness to engage with the unknown. They discuss the challenge of asking questions with the innocence of a child, free from the fear of appearing ignorant or the need to control the conversation’s outcome. This approach, they argue, opens up new possibilities for exploration and understanding in conversations, whether in structured groups like the Gurdjieff or Quaker meetings or in everyday interactions.
Resources
David Bohm’s book, On Dialogue — Craig references this book as an inspiration for their discussion on dialogue. David Bohm, a renowned physicist and philosopher, explores the concept of dialogue as a free-flowing and agenda-less conversation that isn’t bound by authority or hierarchy, emphasizing its potential for creative and transformative understanding.
Gurdjieff groups — Jesse mentions participating in Gurdjieff groups, which are based on the teachings of George Ivanovich Gurdjieff, a mystic and spiritual teacher. These groups focus on self-awareness and deep presence, aligning with the Quaker meetings’ approach to deep, mindful engagement.
Quaker Meetings — Both Jesse and Craig discuss the Quaker meetings’ influence on their views of presence and dialogue. Quaker meetings, known for their simplicity and emphasis on inner guidance, involve participants speaking from a deeply present and relevant place, akin to a form of spiritual expression.
I truly don’t mind the cold; I enjoy snow and blustery winds and cozy fires and hot cocoa. Arguably, I suffer much more in unusually hot weather than I do in unusually cold weather. But even I have a limit.
The man felt like a speck in the frozen nothingness. Every direction he turned, he could see ice stretching to the edge of the Earth: white ice and blue ice, glacial-ice tongues and ice wedges. There were no living creatures in sight. Not a bear or even a bird. Nothing but him.
I often remind myself that there’s nothing new under the sun. Of course, that’s not actually true, but it reminds me to temper my insanity. Enthusiasm is wonderful fuel for getting things done, but I’m too often sprinting up in the insanity range, rather than gleefully skipping along in the enthusiastic range. I digress.
Xanadu, the ultimate hypertext information system, began as Ted Nelson’s quest for personal liberation. The inventor’s hummingbird mind and his inability to keep track of anything left him relatively helpless. He wanted to be a writer and a filmmaker, but he needed a way to avoid getting lost in the frantic multiplication of associations his brain produced. His great inspiration was to imagine a computer program that could keep track of all the divergent paths of his thinking and writing. To this concept of branching, nonlinear writing, Nelson gave the name hypertext.
I’ve spent a lot of time learning about, and tinkering with, personal knowledge systems. To my embarrassment, I don’t actually recall ever learning about Xanadu. I vaguely knew that the “hypertext” of the HyperText Transfer Protocol—the HT in the HTTP and HTTPS—wasn’t a fresh invention; The Web as we saw it invented did not also invent hyptertext. But I’d never seen this Wired article by Wolf.
