Solvitur Ambulando: It is solved by walking →

A few years ago, I read an article, Walking, by Steve Kamb about walking to Mordor and I set out to walk the round-trip 3,871 miles.

It’s 1,779 miles to get from Hobbiton to Mt. Doom. Then riding the eagles back to Minas Tirith cuts the return walk to Bag End down to 1625 miles. Plus 467 more miles, roundtrip to Grey Havens. Brings my total goal to 3,871 miles. This is roughly the entire length of the Nile river, or the distance from the surface to the center of the Earth. (Mid 2019 I’m a few hundred miles from Mt. Doom.)

§10 – Walking to Mordor

As best I can tell, in 2014, I had already started walking the ~4-mile round-trip to my office, and I was using walking in general to improve my fitness for some specific parkour events I was planning to attend. When I found this challenge, I looked back through all my journals and estimated how far I’d already walked. In November 2016, when I took up the Mordor challenge, I noted that I had already walked 124 times for a total of 496 miles.

As I mentioned, walk number 500 turned out to be just 8 miles short of Mt Doom. But really, I’ve only been estimating my mileage based on measuring some common walking routes and counting the walks. So this is an amazing confluence of walk-number and mileage. So at this point, I’m going to stop keeping track of the mileage. (I do still keep track of general activity each day, so I still note “walk” when I do so.)

Take-aways?

Well, I think it’s amazing how far you can get—figuratively and literally—with small daily progress. Also, I think it’s very good for me mentally, given where I am at the end of 2019, to stop tracking this goal. It makes for one less thing on my mind.

I’m hoping that walking is now a way of life. I will note that I think absolutely nothing of walking a few miles. I’ve walked miles with a 40-pound backpack, (in minimalist sneakers.) I’ve walked 2 miles carrying 20 pounds of vegetables farmer-carry-style. I’ve fixed my back. I’ve fixed my feet.

Walk on!

ɕ


One more walk →

A few years ago, I started walking to Mordor. Based on my counting and tracking, I’m at walk number 499 and I think I can finish the mileage in the final walk.

…but I’ll cover the details when I’m done. Today I want to linger on the feeling of knowing that the end is nigh.

My motto for 2019 was, “no.” It wasn’t intended as a sour-puss negativity sprint, but rather an attempt to get myself to be mindful about what I commit to. As the year closes, and my walking goal nears completion, I want to think very carefully about what I expect to feel and experience. Where did I first hear of the goal? Why did the goal call to me? What did I want to accomplish by setting out on the journey? What will change when I finish the goal? How am I different?

Most importantly, I want to not replace the goal—and the work, and the time investment, and the mental energy—with another thing. Am I able to have a little less daily work? Am I able to have one less project in the works? Am I amble to have one less thing on my mind?

…or am I going to scurry back to the comfort of “busy” and add something?

ɕ


Prompts and it’s not a test →

When you’re in a job interview, a podcast interview, a sales call, a meeting… if we take the approach that this is a test and there’s a right answer, we’re not actually engaging and moving things forward.

~ Seth Godin, from Ignore the questions

Elsewhere, this is 4useio1. — slipbox

In a conversation, if a guest slips into this-is-a-test mode, things get awkward. If I ask, “what’s something people get wrong about you,” the guest will think I’m looking for dirt, and that I want something they’d not want to share. Or worse, they wonder if I already know something, and suspect I want to drag that skeleton from their closet.

But the sort of conversations I’m interested in creating are ones where those involved are working together to create something interesting and respectful of the subject. So it’s important to create the environment where the guest naturally treats questions as prompts. It turns out that this is easy to do.

If I honestly want the good sort of interview, then my actions follow automatically. I share things about myself and doing so invites the other person to share. I take things seriously which conveys that I value the interaction and what I’m hearing. I express my interest directly by asking interesting questions; questions which show the other person I’m generally curious. Overall, I demonstrate that I’m listening because I’m interested rather than because I want to do something with what I’m about to hear.

I’m listening to comprehend; not listening to respond nor refute.

ɕ

Elsewhere, this is 4c2co3c1. — slipbox


Once things click →

It is amazing how obvious things are once you figure them out. Something I struggle to understand, can instantly be glaringly obvious once some final, little piece clicks into place. Small things, big things, click, click, click.

Question: Which is better, to be at the click part marveling at how clear something is, or to be in the puzzling part doing the work?

ɕ


It’s all fun and games until it’s Dalmations →

Decades ago my mother and I—but mostly her—got really into jigsaw puzzles. The puzzles being tackled grew bigger and bigger, as the size of the pieces grew smaller and smaller. We started buying puzzles that had higher quality die-cutting. …and things started getting out of hand, with me finding puzzles that had large areas of blue sky, or the top half of the image was various clouds. But still, these puzzles were defeated with brutal precision: corners, borders, sort by colors/patterns, divide and conquer.

I think the tipping point was when someone found a puzzle of 101 Dalmations. In a snow scene. It might have been die-cut from both sides with the backside printed solid white. (For you non puzzle-nuts: That means you can’t even tell if a piece is face-up or -down.) I think that’s the only puzzle that ever went back into its box unassembled.

I also think there’s a lesson in there somewhere about escalation and turning something fun into a chore.

Fortunately, I think we learned the lesson before I had to buy one of these, https://www.amazon.com/Beverly-Micro-White-Jigsaw-Puzzle/dp/B008DCQE3O

ɕ


Thoughtfully giving and receiving decisions →

Decision fatigue is a well-known effect. I’ve long since learned to be mindful of when I am going to encounter this, and to take steps to avoid or reduce it. There’s a paradox where I used to want the option to make decisions, while not having the energy to make good decisions.

Also long ago, I started intentionally reigning in the urge to have an opinion when a decision is available. I now think, “do I want to have an opinion on this?” and I try to steer myself towards, “no.” There are countless examples, but they most often fall into, what I’ll call, refinements. This is when something is happening, and it is happening because I’m following someone’s lead. Our culture encourages that leader to solicit opinions; I’m presented a dinner invitation, but asked, “where would you like to eat?” These refinements come in a huge variety, but usually, that leader had an idea in mind when they set the ball rolling. These days, whenever I can, I don’t add an opinion to the mix.

I’ve gotten really good at not having an opinion. In fact, I’ve realized this is now a problem. Everyone is so used to people complaining—about everything; the movie, the food, the traffic—that they assume I too am going to complain later, after going along with their choice.

Each of us needs to practice giving the gift of making thoughtful choices for others. Each of us needs to practice accepting those gifts graciously, (up front, and during and after without complaint.)

ɕ


Before dawn →

I’m not sure if it’s the silence, or the darkness. Maybe it’s the fact that pre-dawn there are two kinds of people, those who are sleeping and those who are up attacking their day and I prefer to be the later. (Although, it’s a physical fight with my body every morning.)

There’s a time and place for most everything. Writing, for example, seems best done in the early morning. Vacationing seems best done at the end of summer. Hard labor seems best done in one’s 20s.

I wonder when is the best time for introspection?

ɕ


Artificial constraints →

A lot of my thinking, and sometimes even my problem solving, revolves around juxtaposition. What would the inverse of the current this be? Can I gain useful perspective from the other position? Big/small, loud/quiet, perfuse/sparse, etc.; there are many obvious qualities that create striking changes in perspective. However, I find particularly rewarding juxtapositions in unusual dimensions, and there’s one dimension in particular that pays off more than all others: Time.

Have a problem? …how would I solve it if I had 100 years? …what would have to be the case if I were going to solve it in 5 minutes?

It’s become common to talk about “minimum viable product” in the entrepreneurial space, and that’s a form of time constraint. (But it’s a useful idea because it also includes other constraints such as resources and people.)

The famous Getting Things Done system has many critical components. One in particular is paying attention to the next action for any given project. (And in GTD everything you do in your entire life is a ‘project’.) This too is a form of time constraint; it’s not, “I’ll move this project forward at some point in time,” (the perspective of unlimited time,) rather it’s, “if I was going to move this project forward in the next minute…”

Where in your life might a shift to expectation of greater or lesser time yield a huge benefit?

ɕ


Goals versus aspirations →

A distinction I’ve been making in recent years:

A goal is something specific. It will be clear when the goal is achieved. For me, goals should always be the classic specific, measurable, actionable, relevant, and time dependent, sort of SMART goals.

An aspiration is something directional. It will be clear when progress is made in the direction dictated by the aspiration.

The more goals I set, the worse my life becomes. I set great goals… big challenging, self-stretching goals. They pile on like dead weight and drag me down. Lose 10 pounds. Read an hour a day. …and so on.

Aspirations, being open-ended, don’t feel so daunting. Provided the aspirations lead to actual action, then I don’t need to worry about tomorrow. I can simply do the things—today, now—which are guided by my aspirations. Be someone who moves. Be exposed to lots of fresh ideas. Be someone who helps others. Be someone who creates value. Be someone whose mind works well.

What aspirations do you have?

ɕ


Where you put your mind →

There’s a hard-won lesson I learned about getting things off of my mind. If my mind is stuck on something I need to deal with that immediately. Sometimes I still make the mistake of just doing the whatever, to resolve the thing on my mind. But that’s my artificial urgency problem kicking in, and I continue working to avoid that. No, by ’deal with’ I mean simply: Figure out what it is that is making that thing stick in my mind, do the thinking required to figure out the next action, and capture it somewhere not in my mind.

What’s on your mind right now that you could write down/capture outside of your head which would then free your mind for having ideas, rather than using it to try to store ideas?

ɕ