The only question that really matters, the only question whose correct answer can exert a civilizing influence on the future specialist, is the question asked by Buddha and Jesus, by Lao-Tsu and Socrates, by Job and Aeschylus, and Chaucer and Shakespeare and Dostoevsky, by every philosopher, every mystic, every great artist: Who am I and what, if anything, can I do about it?
I remain only slightly less clueless than as on my birth day. No clue then. After about a trillion seconds of learning, I’ve still not much to go on. Some things have worked— but I’m not sure exactly why. Some things haven’t worked— also not sure why. The only clues I have are very abstract, fortune-cookie sized, clues like: “Work hard. Stay Humble.” (And a few I’ve cribbed from Lao Tsu and Marcus Aurelius come to think of it.)
The following recipe assumes you’re very ambitious.
The first step is to decide what to work on. The work you choose needs to have three qualities: it has to be something you have a natural aptitude for, that you have a deep interest in, and that offers scope to do great work.
I’ve often wished there’d been a How to Be Human manual. I’m not sure how one would learn the contents very early on. (How does one learn the first chapters pre-language?) Each year, as one levels up, the next chapter of the manual would become available. Arguably, the entire book reduces to: “Relax. Breath.” But, somewhere around chapter 7 I’d very much liked to have found what Graham wrote. (Even though I’d probably have ignored it until about level 22.)
A well-composed song strikes the mind and softens the feelings, and produces a greater effect than a moral work, which convinces our reason, but does not warm our feelings, nor effect the slightest alteration in our habits.
How does one navigate and sustain motivation through personal and professional challenges in long-term creative and athletic pursuits, while balancing innovation, personal growth, and community impact?
René Scavington joins Craig to discuss the evolution of parkour, his new film and his ongoing quest for innovation and wonder.
I feel like if I’m trying to do bigger jumps, there’s a smaller window of time because I’m eventually going to tip off in power output. But flips and other freestyle type moves, I feel like I can age with those a little better. […] I think if we’re going to expect anything out of me, I would say it might be more of that. In the future, just trying to be a bit more playful— A bit more loose. And I think that was harder to do in the early days of parkour. I think scenes and communities were a little meaner.
~ René Scavington 24:27
René gravitates around the evolution and nuances of parkour, revealing his perspectives and experiences within the discipline. He touches on experimentation, highlighting its growing acceptance over time. He notes the shift from a past where trying odd moves or playful variations was met with disdain, contrasting it with the current atmosphere where experimentation is often embraced and sometimes even celebrated.
René goes into his personal journey and the meticulous, relentless dedication he embodies in his practice. The conversation reveals the essence of René’s movement captured in his forthcoming film, Resilient. René speaks candidly about his 20-year commitment to parkour, and about his attitude despite the challenges. His discusses his relentless pursuit of certain flips, acknowledging the struggle to balance his progression in flips alongside the continuous advancements in parkour techniques.
Takeaways
Evolution of experimentation — The shift in the parkour community’s attitude toward experimentation.
Relentless dedication — René’s 20-year commitment to parkour reflects his focused and persistent nature.
Resilient — René’s explains the motivations and vision that went into his forthcoming film.
Enduring wonder and curiosity — René shares his perpetual sense of wonder and curiosity, finding inspiration in envisioning new possibilities and an enduring passion for the discipline’s potential.
https://www.sportparkourleague.com Sport Parkour League was founded with the mission of creating an engaging competitive platform for parkour athletes that remains true to the culture.
Suppose I wanted to give something up, but I’m completely baffled by how to decide which thing. I’m not talking about needing to give something up. I mean: This is all nice, and I’d like to have less. It turns out I spend a lot of time thinking about what to give up, and how to give it up. And who would I be once that thing that I do ceased. And why am I still making the mistake of identifying who I am as what I do? (I run, but I am not a runner.) Most of the answers I’ve found to, “what to give up and how?” come from visualization exercises. I know in fact that I will eventually give it all up. Suddenly, it’s no longer about “if”, but more simply “when”. If next decade is fine, why not next year? …why not right now?
To change a habit – whether you’re starting a new habit or quitting an old one – you have to let go of something really important to you. This is why most people struggle with habit change – it’s not easy to let go of your sacred cows.
As always Babauta’s thoughts and perspective inspire me to pause, breath, relax. We do need space, because without space when are we comfortable simply being? I now often find I do have such space. Although my urge remains to fill the spaces up with doing, not-breathing, grasping— Therefore I continue, slowly. breathing. relaxing. visualizing. being.
If I’m never able to acknowledge that the current moment is nice, then what’s the point? Never noticing it’s nice leads to the aching feeling that—as the thread-bare adage goes—time is slipping through my fingers like sand through an hourglass.
Time management is a cognitively strenuous task, leaving us feeling harried. As the opportunity cost of time increases, our concern about “wasting” our precious hours grows more acute. On balance, we are better off, but the blessing of high-value time can overwhelm some individuals, just as can the ready availability of high-calorie food.
Fortunately I have taken steps to ensure that I regularly notice, and think, “this is nice.” I’m not always successful; I can still be spotted being a grumpster, or a petulant three-year-old. But that’s the point: Life is a range of experiences, and once I realized my scale of judgement were always tipped to one side, when that’s clearly not the reality of my existence, I set about adjusting the scale.
I like Carl Sagan’s point about humans being able to work magic. (I’ll pause here while you read the quote.) Writing enables us to transmit ideas across time and space directly into others’ minds; It’s a natural and obvious development once we had language and storytelling. I am so far, endlessly fascinated by that.
Does what someone says, or writes, need to make sense? It would be insane to expect it to always, or necessarily, make sense. What about poetry? And what about mental imagery incited by reading or listening? And what about literal imagery? I find there’s a vast range of media, and mediums, that interest me once given a chance. Sometimes I want to read logical and reasoned text. Sometimes I want to relax by the window of the train as the scenery slides past.