What I’m looking for, in both fiction and documentary, are moments that you weren’t expecting, and which the audience don’t feel prepared for, moments that are candid, like something that just happened in front of the camera, and it’s not going to happen again. Those are the moments you live for as a documentary maker.
I’ve lately been on a bender reading many of these really interesting, really short, interviews with countless people. Most of them don’t particularly interest me. “But wait,” you’re thinking, “those two sentences seem contradictory.” I’m glad you asked about that!
You see, once I know that there’s some large body of work and it’s pretty uniform, then I wonder: Why should I think that the ones I like are the really good ones? Since the work is (pretty) uniform, maybe they’re all really good (or pretty good, at least) and the reason I don’t like most of them… is me. If I sift through the work am I identifying the good ones? …or am I reinforcing, via confirmation bias, my narrow view points? If I wanted to grow—growth often being uncomfortable, especially when it comes to shifting one’s own perspectives—maybe I should intentionally read the ones that I think aren’t that good. Maybe I should be seeking out things which I’m misjudging, and that would by definition be the things I think aren’t that good.
Importantly, affect labelling is also more effective when it involves self-reflecting on and identifying authentic positive emotional experiences. This is different from when people try to trick themselves into feeling better by just stating that they feel good when maybe they don’t. The importance of using affective labelling in an authentic way is consistent with other research showing that people tend to enjoy higher wellbeing when they feel like they are being authentic to themselves and not faking parts of their life.
This article picks apart neatly, the big nit I’ve always had with positive thinking: Reality is real. When something has pissed me off. Naming that—literally saying out loud, to myself when I’m alone, “I’m pissed off”—really does help. Positive thinking never works for me, “I’m happy!” when I’ actually mad, just makes me feel stupid for denying the reality of my lived experience.
Calm companies provide meaningful work, healthy interactions, and flexibility for people’s lives. If your kid is home sick, you can set work aside and take care of them. If it’s a beautiful day, you can go for a run on the beach.
It was only a little over a year ago (as noted in my Calm Technology post) that first heard of calm tech.
Calm technology is designed to be unobtrusive and blend in with daily life. The opposite is technology that is distracting and disruptive, creating agitation and stress.
And of course, what would one—hopefully—build using calm tech?
Over time, if you work on developing the power of your word, it will become something you don’t question. And then your word will be like a powerful magic spell you can cast anytime you need to make magic happen.
I think I’m doing better work than ever, and it is getting noticed, it just doesn’t tip the needle anymore. I’m not suffering for traffic, but “new” traffic is definitely coming from unusual and unpredictable places that are nearly impossible to capitalize on.
The root of the problem is simply that the pendulum swings. Back in my day (me saying that, although the “day” is the same as Terpstra’s) it took a bit of technical chops to really be using the internet. Those with the chops, also tended to build things; not necessarily build from scratch, but at least use the tools others built from scratch to build things. The big thing we all built was the Web. Today, people don’t much use the Web, and precious few still build the Web.
David Lynch has a variety of notions about what it takes to make art, but suffering is not among them. “This is part of the myth, I think […] the more you suffer, the less you want to create. If you’re truly depressed, they say, you can’t even get out of bed, let alone create.”
[How do you know if something will last or not?] Well, you don’t! That’s a form of arrogance! I think that if you can somehow tell some kind of truth or at least get to some sense of truth… Then it will last. Because then you’ve reached some kind of primal understanding of something that will transport you over time. But I don’t sit here and say, “Is this going to be great and last?” I don’t think so. I just try to make it something that has a sense of something that matters, you know, that makes it of value.
‘Dagon’ has all the elements of a classic Lovecraft tale. Here, as in many of his later works – including ‘The Call of Cthulhu’ (written in 1926), The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath (1927), and At the Mountains of Madness (1931) – optimistic endeavours for knowledge, even the simple act of seeing what’s on the other side of a hill, are thwarted by incomprehensible terrors and a horrifyingly arbitrary cosmic order. These revelations shatter the minds of Lovecraft’s truth-seeking characters, including doctors, archaeologists, lost sailors, metaphysicians and scientists of all kinds.
Some people must think that reading a bunch of Lovecraft’s work was time I wasted. I loved it. I didn’t find it scary (I’m not sure I’ve ever found any book scary. Movies, on the other hand, can scare the hell out of me.) But I deeply enjoyed Lovecraft… and yet I could never quite express why. After reading Woodward’s thoughts I’m thinking I enjoyed the experience—being myself one of those “doctors, archaeologists, lost sailors, metaphysicians and scientists of all kinds”—of seeing people like me get the hell scared out of them.
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 see countless examples of mindlessness any time I venture out into the regular world. But I also see examples of mindfulness! They’re not as common, but some people I encounter are awake. Some people I encounter are interested and interesting. Some people’s presence makes the immediate area a better place.
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.
I’ve never had the nothingness problem. I’ve always been a starter (and an over-achiever, and an over-thinker.) For me the challenge is always to find ways to create change, without destroying myself and health in the process. Set goals, yes. But also leave no-goals-today space. Have aspirations, yes. But don’t assess my self-worth based on my distance from those aspirations.
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.
Because in reality, none of us actually understands how our minds work. We only know that sometimes, our minds do some pretty amazing things. It would be great (we, I hope, all think) if I could tweak my mind to do that a little more often.
How can you effectively and gracefully end a conversation while maintaining its value and mutual appreciation?
Understand the balance between leaving a conversation fulfilled and seeking more.
Craig and Jesse discuss the complexities of ending conversations, beginning with the idea that most conversations naturally conclude due to external factors like time constraints. Craig notes that in many casual interactions, such as those at events or in public spaces, the end is often dictated by circumstances rather than a conscious decision.
I know I didn’t even try to get everything [from a conversation] because I know I can’t get everything. So it’s somehow finding a balance between: “Okay, my cup is full. I should really move away and just revel in what I have.” Finding a balance between that, and just going to the well until the cup comes up empty. I think that’s probably the compass for how to find a good ending.
~ Craig Constantine (4:25)
They explore the notion that it can be beneficial to end conversations while they are still engaging, rather than waiting until all topics are exhausted. Craig shares his experiences from recording podcasts, where he finds it challenging to end on a high note, emphasizing the importance of planning and strategies for graceful conclusions.
We’re here looking for ways to make conversation more alive […]. I’ve adopted this strategy of, stop eating when I want to eat a little bit more. stop talking when I want to talk a little bit more. Stop training, moving around and exercising when I want to move a little bit more. So that I’m actually left in the wanting of it […]
~ Jesse Danger (5:13)
They also touch on the distinction between enjoyable and uncomfortable conversations. Jesse brings up the idea of stopping activities, such as talking or training, while still wanting more, to maintain a sense of aliveness and enthusiasm. The conversation shifts to practical strategies for ending conversations, including honesty about one’s need to leave and expressing appreciation for the interaction.
Jesse references Peter Block’s concept from the book “Community,” suggesting that when ending a conversation, participants can share what they gained from the interaction, fostering a sense of closure and mutual respect. This approach, they agree, can enhance the quality and impact of the conversation.
Takeaways
Ending conversations naturally — External factors often dictate the conclusion of casual interactions.
Ending on a high note — Beneficial to conclude conversations while they are still engaging.
Challenges in planned endings — Strategies and planning are crucial for graceful podcast conclusions.
Distinction between conversation types — Different approaches are needed for enjoyable and uncomfortable conversations.
Maintaining enthusiasm — Stopping activities while still wanting more helps preserve a sense of aliveness.
Practical strategies — Honesty about the need to leave and expressing appreciation can aid in ending conversations.
Concept of shared appreciation — Participants can share what they gained from the interaction to foster closure.
Spontaneity in conversation exits — Creative and spontaneous actions can make leaving a conversation smoother.
Balancing conversation engagement — Finding a balance between getting enough out of a conversation and not exhausting all topics.
Resources
Community by Peter Block — Discusses the importance of commitment and shared appreciation in group settings.
The concept of “single-serving friends” from the movie Fight Club — Refers to brief, context-specific interactions that end naturally.
What role does dialogue play in fostering a sense of connection and transformation within individuals and communities?
Can dialogue itself be more important than the decisions it leads to?
In this conversation, Craig and Jesse explore the concept of dialogue and its transformative power within communities. They begin by discussing a quote from the book “Dialogue” by Isaac, which suggests that once people experience genuine dialogue, they do not revert to superficial interactions.
So then I have to ask myself, how do I have to be in the world so that I can create more moments like that for myself? And for others? And what [for] the spaces that I create? When I’m creating spaces for groups? Or when I’m entering into spaces that already exist for groups? What can I do to bring that feeling? …that dialog? …that awakeness?
~ Jesse Danger (11:30)
Craig expresses uncertainty about the quote’s validity, as he feels he lacks enough sustained experiences of deep dialogue within consistent groups. He contrasts his sporadic podcast conversations with Isaac’s examples of embedded dialogue practices in communities. Jesse, on the other hand, shares his experiences of practicing deep dialogue within his company and recalls his time at a Danish school where dialogue was a core part of daily activities.
The conversation shifts to the impact of dialogue on individuals and groups. Jesse reflects on how his exposure to structured, meaningful conversations in school and at work has shaped his approach to relationships and decision-making. Craig ponders the possibility of creating similar spaces and recognizes that meaningful dialogue doesn’t necessarily require a large group; it can also occur in one-on-one interactions. They discuss the challenge of fostering these dialogic spaces in various contexts and contemplate how to bring the principles of deep dialogue into their everyday lives and communities.
Takeaways
The power of dialogue — Genuine dialogue has the potential to transform individuals and communities, making it hard to revert to superficial interactions once experienced.
Challenges of sustaining dialogue — Consistent deep conversations within the same group are rare and difficult to maintain, highlighting the challenge of embedding dialogue in daily routines.
Experiences in educational settings — Structured dialogue practices in schools can profoundly impact participants, fostering a sense of connection and mutual understanding.
Dialogue in professional environments — Prioritizing dialogue over decision-making in a company can lead to healthier organizational dynamics and better overall outcomes.
Personal growth through dialogue — Meaningful conversations with strangers or colleagues can open up new perspectives and deepen relationships.
Creating dialogic spaces — It is possible to foster spaces for dialogue in various contexts, from small groups to larger communities, by being intentional about conversation practices.
Individual responsibility in dialogue — One must consider how to bring the principles of deep dialogue into their daily interactions and be proactive in creating opportunities for meaningful conversations.
Reflecting on past dialogue experiences — Looking back at previous instances of deep dialogue can help identify the elements that made those conversations impactful and how to replicate them.
Resources
Dialogue by William Isaacs — A book exploring the transformative power of genuine dialogue within communities.
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.