Recently my “little” box of quotes outgrew its original little box. The collection now exceeds 600 cards and continues to grow at an accelerating pace.
…and it has expanded conceptually far beyond simply being a box on my desk. The Little Box of Quotes podcast has surpassed a year of daily episodes. A precious 10 or so of the quotes were the original seeds for what became my personal sequence of daily reminders for reflection. My personal sequence then inspired my series on Practicing Reflection which ran during the opening days of 2021.
I’m curious to see where I’ll be with this in another 5 years.
I know I’ve been off on two long tangents recently: The long series of posts about practicing self reflection kept this blog busy for two months, and before-and-after that I’ve been doing a deep rabbit hole exploration of Slipboxes. I’m still yappin’ about Slipboxes, but I think we’ll be seeing more random things here in April.
But before that happens here’s another thing related to the Slipbox: I found this really detailed summary of Ahrens’s, How to Take Smart Notes. I’ve been reading and studying these notes, as I’m reading and studying the book. Take a look at this post, How to Take… —the site is literally named The Rabbit Hole. You’ve been warned.
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Craig Constantine: Experience, pruning, and benefit →
What motivates and defines meaningful conversations in podcasting, and how does preparation and intentionality shape these interactions?
Doing the ‘same’ thing over 100 times seems like a lot, but feels like much less when each time is a unique and valuable experience. Craig discusses the process he uses to create space and have authentic conversations with each guest. He unpacks the idea of ‘pruning’ your projects and how reflection is integral to the process. Craig shares his personal reasons for creating the podcast, why video is not on the agenda, and changes we may see moving forward.
If you think about how… This is actually really hard to do, I think. If you think: ‘I am going to go over to my friend’s house at three o’clock on Tuesday, and I’m going to have a good conversation!’ With that, I mean, that’s basically what we’re trying to do.
~ Craig Constantine (14:17)
This conversation navigates the dynamics of podcasting, emphasizing the intentional shift from traditional interviews to organic conversations. Key points include the importance of preparation, balancing listener needs with authentic dialogue, and creating a space where guests feel seen and heard. Insights into reflective practices reveal how curiosity and follow-through shape meaningful exchanges.
The discussion also touches on challenges in managing creative projects, with pruning as a metaphor for intentional decision-making. The process of saying no to certain projects to create room for impactful endeavors highlights the speaker’s philosophy. Other topics explored include the importance of diversity in guest selection and the iterative process of refining the podcast’s mission.
Takeaways
Creating meaningful conversations — Preparation and curiosity play a crucial role in fostering organic and reflective discussions.
Balancing dual roles — The host must navigate the tension between serving listeners and maintaining an authentic connection with guests.
Pruning projects — Intentionally saying no helps streamline focus and manage creative energy.
Diversity in voices — Amplifying marginalized and diverse perspectives enriches the depth of storytelling.
Reflection as growth — Journaling and structured self-reflection can lead to personal and professional efficacy.
Intentional guest preparation — Taking time to “load” the guest into the host’s mindset enhances the quality of the exchange.
Crafting spaces — The physical and emotional setup influences the dynamics of conversations.
Celebrating milestones — Recognizing achievements provides opportunities for both reflection and forward momentum.
Resources
Constantine.name — Craig’s personal blog serves as a reflective space for exploring project insights.
Art of Retreat — Referenced as another platform tied to recorded discussions.
The most difficult subjects can be explained to the most slow-witted man if he has not formed any idea of them already; but the simplest thing cannot be made clear to the most intelligent man if he is firmly persuaded that he knows already, without a shadow of doubt, what is laid before him.
When is the last time you read a dictionary? Have you ever sat down, and started reading the dictionary at the very beginning? My mind has been melted and reformed. My foundations are shaken, (and stirred.)
Things were defensive from the outset: The literally-first, full sentence I encountered—set off within a box, with a fancy-schmancy Merriam-Webster logo atop—is, “The name Webster alone is no guarantee of excellence.” Followed immediately by the we’re-sick-of-litigating, but-that-isn’t-stopping-us thumb in the eye of, “It is used by a number of publishers and may serve mainly to mislead an unwary buyer.” Considering myself forewarned, and forearmed with a magnifying glass, I pushed forward into the volume set entirely in a font size whose capital letters tower exactly 2 millimeters. Sure, the Preface—a two-column wall of microfiche occupying the totality of page 6a—was winsome, as far as, I assume, dictionary Prefaces go. Pragmatic was the listing upon page 7a of persons comprising the Editorial Staff. However, things became serious, bordering on salacious, with the Explanatory Chart printed, (apparently primarily for practical purposes,) in sprawled repose across pages 8a and 9a as a visual menagerie detailing the architecture and idiosyncrasies of the dictionary’s didactic details. None the less, the degree of magniloquence encountered in the long-form Explanatory Notes for that chart, which begin on page 10a, and which span some 40 columns, is penultimate.
At least, one Slipbox to rule over all the various mediums of information I have.
You see, the Slipbox also solves a problem I’ve known I’ve had, (stop laughing at me!) for a long time: PDF documents get lost. Not, “I can’t find it,” lost but lost under the gently falling snow which ultimately covers all. For a while, I used to print and comb-bind stacks of things from their digital format, just so they would be “equal citizens” in my spaces with other professionally printed things. But, (aside from the killing trees wastefulness of it,) this is a crap-ton of work. Yes I have them in a folder, (not on a hard drive but rather on a file server with a redundent array of drives backed up into the cloud,) but I never look in that folder. Out of sight, and they’re soon out of mind.
The Slipbox solved the real problems of finding a PDF and remembering to continue reading it. (Aside: Bear in mind that being able to print-to-PDF means I can turn anything from the Internet into a PDF. You should too.) I simply create a slip in the Slipbox for the digital document; When Where Matters: How Psychoactive Space is Created and Utilised, wound up at 8d in the Slipbox, (still early days in my fledgling Slipbox’s addresses.) So I prepended “8d – ” to the filename and then threw it into the storage folder.
Perhaps you guessed that I have a small mark on the slip too? I do. It’s a little sort of dog-eared document icon telling me that there’s a digital document “attached” to this slip. Done. Now the slip points to the digital doc; Digital doc points back to the slip.
And then I tossed that slip on my desk with the stack of books I’m currently reading. Second problem solved: Digital PDF is now on the same footing at things physically on my desk.
Having a clear structure to work in is completely different from making plans about something. If you make a plan, you impose a structure on yourself; it makes you inflexible. To keep going according to plan, you have to push yourself and employ willpower. This is not only demotivating, but also unsuitable for an open-ended process like research, thinking or studying in general, where we have to adjust our next steps with every new insight, understanding or achievement—which we ideally have on a regular basis and not just as an exception.
I know I’m reading the right thing when—POW—I feel like a whole bunch of loose threads in my mind suddenly make sense. I’m a master at plans and organizing. (Outlines, processes, Allen’s GTD system, etc..) But my current quest for a knowledge system began in earnest when I could no longer ignore the aching feeling that there was something I’m missing; there’s something I’m not doing correctly. Ahren’s point about “imposing structure” on oneself is the insight. There’s a time for that. (And again, I’ve got that sorted.) I’m gleefully skipping off into experimenting with a new structure to work in. This isn’t all clear to me yet, so these blog posts aren’t going to be perfectly clear either. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
“Ins and Outs.” That piece is short. It’s insightful. …and it’s about two movies that would definitely make my top 100, so there’s that.
Two things: The more I read from Pressfield, the more I want to open a bottle of scotch and weep that I will never write anything good.
And also, the more I read from Pressfield, the more hopeful I become that maybe something will absorb through my thick skull and mabye one day, just maybe, I’ll write something good.
Many see the trees but not the forest, or bark up the wrong tree, speaking endlessly, reasoning uselessly, without going to the pith of the matter. They go round and round, tiring themselves and us, and never get to what is important. This happens to people with confused minds who do not know how to clear away the brambles. They waste time and patience on what it would be better to leave alone, and later there is no time for what they left.
