It’s the messiness

It turned out in retrospect that the messy diversity of the forest had been the source of its resilience. When stresses such as storms, disease, drought, fragile soil, or severe cold struck, a diverse forest with its full array of different species of trees, birds, insects, and animals was far better able to survive and recover. A windstorm that toppled large, old trees would typically spare smaller ones. An insect attack that threatened oaks might leave lindens and hornbeams unaffected. The rigidity and uniformity of the system meant that failures were not small and contained but systemic.

~ Tiago Forte, from Productive Disorder: The Hidden Power of Chaos, Noise, and Randomness

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I’m simply stuck, staring at: “The rigidity […] of the system meant that failures were […] systemic.” I’m filing this under Stuff I Wished I’d Learned 30 Years Ago. I often say that I use systems and structure as a way to multiply my efforts. And that’s true. But I’ve learned that the real reason is that I’m afraid. The big why behind my hyper-organization, maximally-complex systems, and endless aligning of figurative ducks is my desperately trying to control the world around me. With realization comes… the recognition that I have a lot more work to learn to not do.

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Stoic joy

In a word, Senecan joy comes from within, from a good person’s own character and conduct: it arises from goodness itself and from right actions that one performs. This means that joy will not always be a matter of smiles and laughter, for good actions may be difficult and unpleasant: one may have to accept poverty, endure pain, even die for one’s country. A good person does these things only when they are right, and only for that reason, but the doing is itself a good and a reason to rejoice.

~ Margaret Graver and A. A. Long from Letters on Ethics

I don’t understand how we got to the common definition of “stoic”—the suppression of emotions. It’s a shame, because Stoicism is literally the opposite of suppressing one’s emotions. Emotions and reason have their right place. Stoic joy.

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Joy or sorrow

In the Greek story of Sisyphus, the king was condemned for eternity to move a massive rock up a hill but never reach the summit. Albert Camus famously saw it as a parable of the human condition: Life is meaningless, and consciousness of this meaninglessness is torture. This is how I’d remembered Camus’ essay The Myth of Sisyphus, which describes an afterlife as devastating as that of Prometheus having his liver pecked out by an eagle anew every day. But when I reread it recently, I was reminded that for Camus, the king isn’t entirely tragic; he has some power over his existential predicament. Once he grasps his fate—“the wild and limited universe of man”—Sisyphus discovers a certain freedom; he gets to determine whether to face the futility of it all with joy or sorrow.

~ Gal Beckerman, from A Case for Sisyphus and Hopeful Pessimism

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It’s our choice.

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Wait wat

After ending on a startlingly inconclusive note in 1991, Twin Peaks returned in 2017 to extend the story for one more season. Yet audiences who’d hoped for a traditional ending were again denied one. Again, Lynch seemed to be imploring them to stop seeking clarity and embrace the moments whose overarching connections are far less obvious. What mattered to him, it appears, was the experience itself: the feelings they evoked, the uncanny images whose significance were difficult to parse yet impossible to forget. David Lynch didn’t want to leave his viewers with an interpretation, but with something more visceral—like the taste of cherry pie and a cup of hot coffee, black as midnight on a moonless night.

~ Emma Stefansky, from David Lynch Captured the Appeal of the Unknown

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I watched Twin Peaks in real time on ‘ol broadcast TV. It bent my brain in the best way possible. But . . . there’s another season?! Shut up and take my money— I was reading this, thinking it was simply interesting. Until I got to this line… excuse me while I run to whatever streaming service it takes . . .

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Resistance is futile

Dinner resists optimization. It can be creative, and it can be pleasurable. None of this negates the fact that it is a grind. It will always be a grind. You will always have to think about it, unless you have someone else to think about it for you, and it will always require too much time or too much energy or too much money or some combination of the three. It is unrelenting, in the way that breathing is unrelenting. There is freedom in surrendering to this, that even in this golden age of technological progress, dinner refuses to be solved.

~ Rachel Sugar, from Dinner Is Terrible

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I agree with Sugar. Somewhere along the way I learned that leaning into the mundane parts of meal preparation is actually what I need to do more often. I tend to get very head-down doing and that’s not healthy when it’s protracted hours upon hours. Instead, pre-planning when I’m supposed to stop doing and go work on the meal always results in my spending some meditative time in the ‘ol kitchen. Combined with “simple food, simply prepared”—fresh or raw ingredients, reduced combinations of flavors, smaller quantities, visually interesting—I feel I’m making some progress towards health and mental wellness in one activity.

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Defiance and acceptance

Defiance and acceptance come together well in the following principle: There is always a countermove, always an escape or a way through, so there is no reason to get worked up. No one said it would be easy and, of course, the stakes are high, but the path is there for those ready to take it. This is what we’ve got to do. And we know that it’s going to be tough, maybe even scary.

~ Ryan Holiday

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Don’t stand in the shade

Remember we employed a visual to help us understand this. We said that the Dream is like a tree in the middle of a sunny meadow. The tree casts a shadow.

~ Steven Pressfield, from Writing Wednesdays: Gotta Do It

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I find Pressfield’s metaphor to be striking. The tree in the meadow casts a real shadow. I was struck by the layers in this metaphor: light and darkness, the singular clarity of lone tree in an open space as a symbol of a life’s purpose, the proportional relationship of the larger the tree the larger and darker the shadow, and that one’s ability to avoid or at least escape the shadow is a choice we make.

By extension then, if one attempts to nurture multiple callings, visions or projects, one has multiple big trees. That’s at least a copse of trees whose shadows merge together creating something much more significant to avoid or escape from.

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Out of sight, out of mind

The pile of unread books we have on our bedside tables is often referred to as a graveyard of good intentions. The list of unread books on our Kindles is more of a black hole of fleeting intentions.

~ Ross Andersen, from Stagnant and dull, can digital books ever replace print?

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Digital is great for consumption, but consumption is not the only reason for having a book.

Having the books physically take up space in my environment is a key feature of books! My anti-library—the collection of books I’ve not yet read—serves the important purpose of reminding what I don’t yet know. Also, when I have a spare moment the books’ proximity draws me to them; This enables me to affect my future self (albeit only slightly) by setting in sight things that would improve me through their reading.

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Squeezed

Being quiet and slowly building mastery and expertise doesn’t pay off much at first. So many creatives must make a calculation: Do I want the short term, could-go-viral-at-any-second thrill of being a vocal expert in my field? Or am I more content playing the long game? More people are incentivized to choose the former — and it’s getting crowded in here.

~ Sean Blanda, from The Creative World’s Bullshit Industrial Complex

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This is closely related to the bit the other day from Offerman. In fact, it’s closely related to anyone’s journey of self-discovery. It is directly related, and critically important, for creatives to understand the trap of the idea of there being a possible short-term payoff. There is no short-term payoff. It exists, in the same sense that car accidents exist: Yes, but we don’t hope for that. We don’t set out trying for that.

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Not passion

[Don’t you need a certain kind of passion during those dry spells, to keep going?] Not at all. What keeps you going is stubbornness, economic necessity, or simply endurance. Passion will, at most, lead to frustration, but not to perseverance. For that, you don’t need passion, you need persistence.

~ Christoph Waltz, from Christoph Waltz – The Talks

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It’s an interesting interview just for his views on passion. I agree with him: Passion will get you out the door on days 1 and 2. But by day 3 you need a routine, an understanding of the effort your undertaking, a clear perspective on what it’s going to be in the long haul, and more. But if you really want to get wowed by Waltz, go find Quentin Tarantino’s conversation on The Moment podcast with Brian Koppelman… the part where Tarantino talks about bringing Waltz onto the project…

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