The connection between the cerebellum and movement has been known since the 19th century. Patients suffering trauma to the brain region had obvious difficulties with balance and movement, leaving no doubt that it was critical for coordinating motion. Over the decades, neuroscientists developed a detailed understanding of how the cerebellum’s unique neural circuitry controls motor function. The explanation of how the cerebellum worked seemed watertight.
[But ultimately acting makes you happy?] Yeah, I think. It is also about balance and finding the balance between the very cerebral part of your brain and the much more impulsive creativity that can come from chaos. So for me it is very much about that balance. The cerebral part of acting and the perfectionism can be exhausting, but the spontaneity can be very joyful. So it’s about managing these two sides of the experience. But yes it’s fun. I mean, there is no point in doing a movie if you’re not having fun.
What defines a deep conversation, and how can one recognize or evaluate its depth?
Is the depth of a conversation defined by content or the experience?
I feel like it only can be deep if it if it was deep for both of us. Like can you have a conversation— I guess anything’s possible. [But,] does it seem realistic to have a conversation where one person thought it was deep? Because I’m saying to myself, yeah, obviously it’s possible. But what happens if both people thought it was deep versus [only] one person thought it was deep?
~ Craig Constantine (4:18)
Craig Constantine and Jesse Danger explore the nature of deep conversations, focusing on the distinction between superficial and meaningful exchanges. Jesse begins by considering what makes a conversation real, emphasizing the unique contributions of each participant and the specific moment. Craig reflects on the term “deep” and questions whether it might sometimes be the wrong word, as some people avoid deep conversations due to discomfort. They both ponder if a deep conversation is characterized by newness or if it can occur without discussing novel topics.
I share experiences with people, I think that people are having the same experience as me. And I’ve come to realize that that’s not the case, I think I can have a deep and profound moment that doesn’t strike the other person as poignantly. I do an exercise with myself, and I’ve done it with my wife, where we write down the moments that struck us most deeply. There are different moments. And you remember, like, oh, yeah, I was there, it’s there. It didn’t strike me. But now, I’m starting to understand that that was really an important moment for you.
~ Jesse Danger (7:02)
They discuss the concept of depth as an emergent feature of a conversation, suggesting that depth arises from a shared experience rather than just content. Craig wonders if a conversation can be considered deep if only one participant feels it is, while Jesse shares his experience of recognizing that people often have different perceptions of the same moment.
They also touch on the idea that profound moments can occur upon revisiting familiar topics, and that the willingness to be known is essential for achieving depth in a conversation. The discussion highlights the importance of co-creation, presence, and the conditions that foster profound exchanges.
Takeaways
The nature of deep conversations — discussed as moving past superficiality and involving unique contributions from each participant.
The difference between superficial and real — explored in terms of what is uniquely shared in a meaningful conversation.
Discomfort in deep conversations — mentioned as a reason some people avoid such exchanges, differentiating between depth and inappropriateness.
Depth as an emergent feature — suggested that depth arises from shared experience rather than merely the content of the conversation.
Newness versus familiarity — debated whether a deep conversation always involves new topics or can occur with familiar subjects.
Shared profundity — questioned whether a conversation can be deep if only one participant perceives it as such.
Different perceptions of the same moment — highlighted through personal experiences, recognizing that not everyone experiences depth in the same way.
Revisiting familiar topics — noted that profound moments can still occur upon revisiting familiar conversations or books.
Willingness to be known — identified as essential for achieving depth in a conversation, implying vulnerability and openness.
Co-creation in conversations — emphasized as an important aspect of achieving depth, with both participants contributing meaningfully.
Presence and awareness — discussed as crucial for recognizing and experiencing the depth of a conversation in the moment.
Conditions for profundity — suggested that certain conditions must be present for a deep conversation to occur, such as openness and receptivity.
One of the principles I come back to over and over is adrienne maree brown’s invitation to move at the speed of trust. That is, whenever attempting any effort with other people, prioritize building trust and respect for each other over and above any other goal. The trust forms the foundation from which the work can grow.
I bump against this in podcasting often: How do I get to the “good” part of this conversation as quickly as possible? And I sometimes focus on the “quickly” part, when in reality the best way is to focus on the trust part. The “good” part of the conversation just falls out after that.
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.
But what really made Vinge the father of the Singularity was his fiction. His 1981 novella “True Names” created many of the tropes about artificial intelligence and virtual worlds that have now become standard. It’s such a tour de force that top computer scientists felt compelled to write a series of essays exploring its ideas, and it’s often considered the founding work of the entire cyberpunk genre.
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…”
