I was reading a single post, Waste time, from Mandy Brown’s aworkinglibrary.com. It’s worth reading just to realize there are two, contradictory suggestions for how to live a life depending on how you interpret this deceptively simple sentence:
There is so little time to waste during a life.
And then Brown led me to her reading notes from a book by Mary Rueflé where this left me gobsmacked:
I used to think I wrote because there was something I wanted to say. Then I thought, “I will continue to write because I have not yet said what I wanted to say”; but I know now I continue to write because I have not yet heard what I have been listening to.
On any project I can quickly get to the doing. Nearly as quickly I start thinking about how to improve whatever it is I’m doing. Sometimes whatever-it-is has a clear end; I can spend many hours (thank you ADHD) laser-focused on an immense number of trivial steps knowing it will mean I can remove something from a to-should list. But with open-ended stuff, like “publish conversations as podcasts”, it doesn’t take long for my urge to fiddle to get the better of me.
I recently went to a Picasso exhibition. What impressed me the most was not any individual piece of art, but rather his remarkably prolific output. Researchers have catalogued 26,075 pieces of art created by Picasso and some people believe the total number is closer to 50,000.
I think it comes down to motivation. (And I find reading about others’ huge accomplishments to be crushinglyde-motivating.) If I have the intrinsic motivation, then the iteration happens; only by great effort could the iteration not happen! Clear points out that Picasso had a very dark side which presented in his interpersonal relationships. I don’t think that dark side—anyone’s dark side—motivates iteration. And a dark side is not a necessary feature either. I really believe one can be a decent human being and be motivated and get great stuff done.
Back in 2018 I traveled to an event at Gerlev in Denmark. I gave a brief presentation one morning explaining the Movers Mindset podcast. The other day, I stumbled over my notes, and felt this was worth a fresh posting.
When we move through the world we can move in an ordinary or an extraordinary way. Ordinary movement is easy; it follows established paths; and it is boring. Extraordinary movement requires excellence, knowledge, and independence. When I talk about movement, I am talking about extraordinary movement because it is much more interesting. Movement—whether that is Parkour, ADD, Freerunning—is a celebration of freedom in the context of an unforgiving reality that cannot be ignored.
These ideas form the foundation of movement: Pay attention to reality, learn as much as you can and practice. With parkour–as with just about everything in this world–the true beauty of the practice can be fully appreciated only by taking a deeper dive into it. This means we have to understand not just the physical aspects of movement but the mental and philosophical basis for movement.
As a mastery discipline—something that can be practiced for a lifetime with continued improvement—movement focuses more on the journey than the destination. Understanding the values, interests, and challenges in the minds of the best practitioners is the best way of showing the path of movement in a meaningful and accessible way. Our podcast, with its audio format and transcripts, naturally emphasizes the mental and psychological aspects of movement.
The podcast brings out the more intellectual elements of movement. My goal is to emphasize the value that movement and movers create and develop through their practice. In pushing the limits of human potential, movers demonstrate objectively that such achievements are possible. Since the physical aspects of practice can be directly observed through images and videos, the visible part is already well covered. But I believe the mental aspect is where the real magic happens, and it is less well covered because it is not spectacular. Video will grab your attention, excite you and may even get you to try some new things, but to get really good at movement you need a deep understanding.
When you listen to the podcasts, I hope you will notice a distinct difference in our approach. Our goal is always to show the guest in the best possible light. We aim to illuminate and showcase their values, ideas, and principles in a way that makes them accessible and relevant to the listener while showing the proper respect for their achievements. Each interview is a collaborative effort with that guest. Our shared goal is to clearly communicate ideas that will be useful to each listener in the context of their personal journey of exploration.
Yogis, martial artists and chess masters often describe how much they’ve learned about life from in-depth practice and mastery in their disciplines. We hear similar sentiments from musicians, sculptors, painters, hunters, and chefs. Movement as a mastery discipline is no different. A big part of its value comes from the lessons it teaches us about life and reality. Knowing your own strengths and limitations is critical. Reality is unforgiving. Physics always works and is important. You cannot fake competence. Courage is required to overcome self-imposed limitations. The list of lessons is limited only by our ability to think and to understand movement.
I am passionate about creating and promoting rational discussion. I am passionate about sharing others’ stories, wisdom, insights, accomplishments, goals, visions and delusions. Describing and illuminating the ideas behind extraordinary movement and human exceptionalism can help us all to improve our experience and appreciate the richness and beauty of life.
I often discover I’m really enjoying myself when I am simply submerged in experiencing. Novelty will of course afford this opportunity (but it’s dangerous to chase novelty.) Unfortunately, if I find something mundane which I discover I’m enjoying I shift to wondering if I can make my enjoyment be productive.
If you’re trying to get through your work as quickly as you can, then maybe you should see if you can find a different line of work. And if you’re trying to get through your leisure-time reading and watching and listening as quickly as you can, then you definitely do not understand the meaning of leisure and should do a thorough rethink.
I sometimes grasp leisure. Far too often I feel compelled to turn leisure into work. I once used “festina lenta” as my touch phrase for a year, and now that’s sounding like a perfect example of my turning my leisure into work.
I’m often paused, even paralyzed, by uncertainty. My hope is that this is a sign that I’ve developed some (originally absent, apparently) humility. I swing wildly between feeling confident in simply doing “the work” simply for the sake of experiencing the process, and panicking in the face of self-criticism for wasting my talents and resources. Literally, the only thing which saves me is the knowledge that it takes a significant amount of self-awareness to even think to write a paragraph such as this.
Never play to the gallery… Always remember that the reason that you initially started working is that there was something inside yourself that you felt that if you could manifest in some way, you would understand more about yourself and how you coexist with the rest of society. I think it’s terribly dangerous for an artist to fulfill other people’s expectations — they generally produce their worst work when they do that.
I’m not sure it’s terribly dangerous. But it’s certain that I get twitchy and restless if I go searching for others’ approval. It feels far better to sit down, shut up, and start. Actually, it’s really a double-negative: It feels far less worse to sit down, shut up, and start than it does to seek others’ approval for whatever it is I have the urge to work on.
How important is having a vision? I’m feeling like it’s very helpful to have a vision which is both clear and simple. To be clear is one thing, but when I try to share a vision with someone else, it goes badly if it’s not also a simple vision.
This isn’t quite a contradiction (building projects are high variance), but it’s an interesting contrast – what made two seemingly similar projects develop so differently? Why did building the Empire State Building go so smoothly, and the World Trade Center struggle? What can we learn by comparing the two projects? Let’s take a look.
The question, “Who will do what by when?” tends to rock worlds. If I’m going to trot out that last focus, I better have a clear and simple vision of the “what”.
Also, what a deliciously deep dive, in just the first part linked to above, into how the Empire State Building was imagined, designed and built.
If there’s somewhere I need to be, I need to start walking. It’s insightful, but it begs a few questions. Do I really understand “where” I need to be (that is to say, what does the word “where” really stand for if I’m to use the proverb)? Is there a path from “here” to “there”? And really sticky question: Are there any true obstacles, like gates with gatekeepers, between “here” and “there”?
The world is full of gatekeepers who think they have veto rights. Don’t believe them. If you need them to invest time or resources then they deserve to have a say, otherwise the responsibility remains with you to decide how to proceed and to suffer the consequences or reap the rewards, as the case may be.
There are many ways (metaphorical and literal) to go over, under, around and through gates and gatekeepers. I’ve always visualized the proverbial gatekeeper as part of a structure surrounding something, keeping me out. But why that orientation?
Recall Douglas Adam’s Hitchhiker’s Guide wherein one character builds an asylum for the world; A “house” with the “interior” stuff (carpet, furniture, lights, curtains, etc) on the outside, exposed to the elements, and with a central space with no roof, faced with the exterior parts of a home. In that center was “outside” the asylum and the entire rest of the world was therefore “inside” the asylum thus constructed.
Why aren’t the gatekeepers seen as denying us access to exit? I don’t want “in” to gain access to some resource or some people. I want “out” to regain my freedom.
Sometimes I sit and reflect on what it’s all been for. When I am able to briefly clutch a bit of perspective, it’s clear that it’s not all “for” anything specific. Life’s a journey, is none the less true for its being cliché.
The naive activist wants to change the world. But that isn’t necessary: the world is changing anyway.
Lately I seem to be stumbling over a large number of “I should probably know who that is” essays. This one about Swartz is one such essay and it filled in some blanks.
But that little bit which I’ve quoted leapt out at me. The world—all of it, from microbes to society, from rock to Gaia—is so absolutely not static. Any urge I’ve ever had to change anything was actually not an urge for a specific change, rather it was an urge for control.
At one point I made a serious attempt at gratitude journaling. I learned that the many moments of delight I encounter on any given day don’t stick in my memory. In those moments I am aware of the experience (I really do think “if this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is” often) but it drifts into the forgotten realms. I don’t randomly have thoughts like, “hey Craig, remember that delightful thing from that other moment?” I have to intentionally pause to make a space for those thoughts to appear.
Humans by nature have a strong desire to control and predict. We want to know what happens at the end of the story, and we focus on those things we can measure and easily influence.
Can one remove a desire? This desire which I definitely have, has not abated through familiarity (something which I believe can cause a desire to fade.) I think the only way is to connect the many experiences which did not go through my control-it desire, and led to happiness. “See brain, we got to delight and there was not even an attempt at control there.” Pausing in moments of delight, as it were, to ask, “well… how did I get here?“
Do you think it is easy writing all these thoughts for this blog/email? It’s a strange experience for me. The writing is really easy—I’m just tapping some little keys and moving a few ones-and-zeros—and my brain has never not been full of thoughts and questions. The writing is really hard—for over a decade I’ve been crafting digital output in various forms for this site, using various systems and routines but it’s an endless task.
So what [is it]? What determines success? Hard work or good fortune? Effort or randomness? I think we all understand both factors play a role, but I’d like to give you a better answer than “It depends.”
The odd thing is that whether I think the writing and all the web site work is hard or easy depends on what I think I am trying to accomplish. To be widely read? …to generate income? …to help others? …to write a certain amount, or for “the most years”? —yikes, this is extremely difficult and arduous work. If my goal is a bunch of stuff over which I have no control, ouch.
On the other hand, when I manage to write because I enjoy fiddling with technology, because I’m curious and love to see/hear others be curious, because thinking and writing and thinking more lead me to clarity and insight… well suddenly it seems so easy.
I’ve too-recently discovered the value of perambulation. Although, I can walk great distances when I’m going somewhere specific, I find a simple stroll is so much better for my mental flossing.
I once walked the distance covered by the Hobbits, from the Shire to Mt. Doom in Mordor. It was an engaging challenge (and the Hobbits did it much more quickly that I managed—which gave me new found respect for those little people) but it eventually became just a thing I was ticking off. Each time I walked one of a very small few routes that I’d measured, I simply added to the tally. Somehow, having a destination made the walks (those whereupon it occurred to me that I was getting closer to Mordor) not feel like perambulation.
That “life affirming” element lives in the rigor of the act. The days are rigorous if nothing else.
Maybe my problem is simply my work ethic. I have a crushing work ethic and it’s taken me a great deal of effort to let go of feeling guilty when I’m not working. If I’m on a journey—a walk or a project—if there’s a destination, then my work ethic rears its ugly head and tries to suck the perambulation out of it.
I’m pretty sure there was no script. If there was a script, I definitely never saw it. In the very early days, there was for my part a lot of, “why?” Why, why, why, but seriously, why? There was a prolonged period of, “what if…” and a long list of things that got tried. (We jumped ATVs over people. Just sayin’.) Then there was a too-long period where I realized that when I multiplied my power of agency by my charisma I could achieve much mischief; never quite Evil per se, but rather than get myself into trouble I realized it was fun to get others to get us all into trouble. (I was aiming for “get themselves into trouble” but I usually missed that mark.)
Gaining agency is gaining the capacity to do something differently from, or in addition to, the events that simply happen to you. Most famous people go off-script early, usually in more than one way.
You know that stupid question, “if you could get a message to your younger self, would you and what would you say?” I think I finally—51.5 years on!—have a message which I definitely would send back to myself: “Make more decisions; don’t often go with the first idea you have.” Whether it was mental or physical or who-knows-what, I was too often fast out of the blocks at the sound of the starter’s pistol. But too rarely did I consider if I even wanted to be in the race. I was crawling, and one day I stood up and ran (according to my mom, and apparently saying “why? why? why? why?”) so I’m confident I had the agency thing sorted. But what was I seeking? To where was I running? And really, maybe just right here in this moment is sort of nice, no?
If this isn’t fun, what would be? Because at this point, I don’t have any excuses for doing anything which isn’t simply, directly enjoyable. I don’t mean that I’m going to be petulant, and rage-quite taking out the trash and dealing with drains. I mean that upon careful inspection there isn’t anything which can’t be simply, directly enjoyable in the moment.
One rule of thumb is to ask yourself, “Am I having a good time doing this?” If you’re not enjoying yourself when you’re engaged in what seems important to you, if you can’t find spontaneous pleasure and joy in it, then there’s likely something wrong. When that happens, you have to go back to the beginning and start discarding any extraneous parts or unnatural elements.
The other day I spent an entire day stacking firewood. It’s a lot of work; but it’s not really that hard. I’d load the wheelbarrow (which is kneeling, squatting or stooping labor), run it to the stacks, stack stack stack. Repeat. After a few trips, I’d retire to the patio and combine some relaxing with some digital work. The parts where I managed to be aware of what I was doing—the sounds, smells, sights, and visceral sensations of hard work—it was definitely enjoyable. Most likely because I find the results of the effort (a warm fire in cold winter) meaningful. It’s any time the meaning seems to be missing that I find I get into trouble.
How can movement and philosophy intersect to foster self-awareness, transformation, and a deeper understanding of the human experience?
This conversation between Craig Constantine and Patrick Oancia revolves around the importance of structure and exploration in movement practices.
“I wanted to make something structured enough that people can go from A to Zed in a learning pattern, but at the same time, have some room for that person to have some space to perceive it as something interesting for themselves.” ~ Patrick Oancia 42’30”
They discuss the concept of balancing structure and chaos to create a practice that offers both a foundation and room for individual exploration. Patrick shares his experience in developing a movement practice called Baseworks that combines structure with the opportunity for multiple possibilities. They also touch upon the significance of finding deep connections and the value of building relationships within communities.
Patrick shares his insights on the significance of structure within movement practices. He emphasizes the importance of a structured approach that allows individuals to progress from one stage to another, while still providing room for personal exploration and diverse perspectives. They discuss how structure combined with chaos creates an engaging and interesting experience, fostering depth of perception and possibilities for growth.
“If people jump from one thing to the next, there’s no potential for somebody to sink their teeth into something, it’s reality.” ~ Patrick Oancia 44’30”
The conversation goes into the notion of embracing multiple methods and perspectives in movement practices. Patrick reflects on his experience with strict yoga teachings and how, despite the advice to stick to one method, he pursued different approaches simultaneously. Craig and Patrick discuss the value of exploring various methods, as it allows individuals to gain a broader understanding and depth of perception. They acknowledge that everyone’s journey is unique, and by embracing multiple perspectives, one can find what resonates with them personally.
“Find the others… if you come away with one new deep connection, that’s a super valuable thing.” ~ Craig Constantine 46’35”
Also explored in the conversation is the role of community and deep connections. Craig and Patrick emphasize the value of finding like-minded individuals who share a passion for movement and personal growth. They highlight the importance of creating meaningful connections and relationships within communities, as it provides support, inspiration, and opportunities for collaboration. They recognize that a single deep connection can be more valuable than a multitude of superficial ones.
Takeaways
Balance and Focus — It’s important to strike a balance between various aspects of personal development.
Structure and Flexibility — Creating a structured framework for learning and practice provides a solid foundation for growth.
Complexity of Verbalizing Concepts — Both participants acknowledge the challenge of articulating their ideas and concepts when discussing movement practices.
Multiple Paths — Everyone’s journey is different, and there is no one-size-fits-all approach to personal development.
Deep Connections — Building meaningful connections with like-minded individuals is invaluable.
Resources
Baseworks Baseworks is a movement approach that helps anyone better feel and understand the body while developing strength, flexibility, and better control over one’s movements.
It warms my heart any time I discover someone writing on the open web. But boy howdy is it a good day when it’s also someone I know, who I think more people need to hear from.
I’m biased, of course. Most people don’t write out in the open (I’m not criticizing.) Being a someone who does simply means I understand the urge, and the challenge (and the fear) that goes into the pensive from which writing ensues.
How can movement and mindset be used as tools for healing, growth, and fostering connections in both personal and community contexts?
Rodrigo Stavale and Craig Constantine dip into several topics, including podcasting, children’s learning, and the power of unconventional teaching methods. Stavale emphasizes the significance of modeling and creative play in fostering children’s development and understanding of movement. They discuss the importance of providing diverse environments, such as streets and parks, to encourage risk management and creativity. Stavale also touches upon the value of self-reflection and feedback, noting the benefits of recording podcasts to capture and analyze one’s progress.
Stavale discusses the role of podcasting as a tool for self-reflection and assessment, allowing individuals to evaluate their progress and explore new movement approaches. He also highlights the significance of injuries, explaining how they provide valuable learning experiences that increase body awareness and strengthen individuals.
The best environment to develop kids is in streets, parks, and places with lots of information for them to manage the risks, see the challenge, and be creative.
~ Rodrigo Stavale, 22’30”
Observing his daughter’s learning process, Stavale emphasizes the importance of modeling movements rather than relying on strict instructions. He describes the value of creativity and playfulness in children’s exploration of movement challenges, allowing them to develop their own ideas and philosophy.
Stavale also underscores the importance of self-assessment in movement practice. He encourages individuals to analyze their movements, using methods such as video recordings or written observations, to identify areas for improvement and track progress. Through self-reflection, individuals can deepen their understanding, maintain motivation, and discover innovative approaches to movement challenges.
Takeaways
Emphasizing accessibility and relatability — Stavale emphasizes the importance of making his projects and videos accessible and relatable to a wide audience. His goal is to inspire others by showcasing movements that are impressive yet achievable, creating a sense of possibility and encouraging individuals to engage in physical activity.
Observing children’s learning — Stavale highlights the value of observing how children naturally learn and play. He believes in incorporating their creative nature into movement-based activities, allowing them to explore and discover movements on their own terms. By embracing their innate curiosity and playfulness, children can develop their skills and movement capabilities.
Self-assessment and growth — Stavale encourages self-assessment and progress tracking as essential elements in movement development. By regularly evaluating one’s own progress, identifying areas for improvement, and adapting movements and techniques accordingly, individuals can strive for continuous growth and self-improvement. Stavale sees challenges and obstacles as opportunities for learning and believes in pushing oneself to explore new movements and overcome personal limitations.
First a hat tip to Austin Kleon. His most-recent post, Do you have a nemesis? included a mind map, which is the most-recent of the countless times I’ve encountered mind mapping. I’m a fan of Kleon for many reasons, not least of which is that he, like me, flouts the usual guidelines for the capitalization of one’s titles.
I’ve tried mind mapping a few times. (What’s that? Did I overdo it with software and processes? …yes, of course!) Today, I was feeling unmotivated to write for Open + Curious. I thought, “Just start. JUST START!” But I simply didn’t want to face the blank screen of the digital document.
Instead, I opened my idea garden wherein I capture interesting nuggets to be seeds for future writing. In my garden, I rarely (I first wrote “never,” but I don’t want to jinx myself) have trouble finding a nugget to write about. I grabbed my favorite pen, and flipped to a blank sheet in the little binder I keep. So much action! I felt like I was already writing. /s
On that mind map I wrote the “something new” at the center. It’s not a meaningless bit of meta; it’s the central idea from a captured nugget. At this point, staring at the paper with my pen in hand felt great, versus facing a digital document which always feels too structured for me to think in. (ref. Sönke Ahrens.) In just a few minutes of thinking and scribbling I had all those bubbles. Then I had a title. …then a route. …an outline. And from there the writing felt doable.
