But the fact is, almost anyone would rather, at any given moment, float about in the Carribbean, or have sex, or eat some delicious food, than work on hard problems. The rule about doing what you love assumes a certain length of time. It doesn’t mean, do what will make you happiest this second, but what will make you happiest over some longer period, like a week or a month.~ Paul Graham from, http://www.paulgraham.com/love.html
There have been just a few bits about this topic arranged on the Internet. I’ve written several times here myself, and linked to many things like this one from Graham. The ultimate point that I’d like to make is simply that the necessary part of solving the problem for yourself is to ask yourself such questions.
If you’re simply going through life reacting to whatever you find before you, then any arm-chair, ivory tower, philosophizing about the meaning of life, one’s purpose, or finding one’s Life’s Work, is completely pointless. I’m not criticizing going through life in reacting mode; if one is crushed by situation or station, then you necessarily have your work cut out for you.
But presuming you have some slack—and be honest, you are on the Internet, so you have enough slack…
Presuming you have some slack, what questions are you asking yourself?
I think what religion and politics have in common is that they become part of people’s identity, and people can never have a fruitful argument about something that’s part of their identity. By definition they’re partisan.Paul Graham from, http://www.paulgraham.com/identity.html
There are two ways I can think to aim this: outward as a way to lecture others, and inward as a way to lecture myself. Lately, I find I’m choosing to aim inward with every lesson I encounter. I’m frequently trying to catch myself being untrue to my morals.
Yesterday I was asking myself: What would it mean to be, “so good, they can’t ignore you?” Asking myself such things is an ongoing theme, and I’ve always considered it from the mindset of more; from the mindset of searching for ways to improve by addition. Yes, I’ve intentionally left the subject unspecified here. Thinking about Graham’s article this morning leaves me wondering if the best way—for me today at my current place in my personal journey—might instead be to improve by removing things.
What would that look like, specifically?
Reading and experience train your model of the world. And even if you forget the experience or what you read, its effect on your model of the world persists. Your mind is like a compiled program you’ve lost the source of. It works, but you don’t know why.~ Paul Graham from, http://www.paulgraham.com/know.html
I deeply love the concept of having a “model” of the world. I’m also deeply interested in having a correct model of the world. The model enables me to understand the world, to move through it, and to create the changes I wish.
I used to try to carefully create my model; for each question I encountered, I would try to learn everything that was important to determine the best answer. But that is an endless fool’s errand. The whole world become an endless field of rabbit holes. Each rabbit hole is wonderfully interesting, and it is immediately clear that exploring even a significant number of them is hopeless in one lifetime.
Instead, I learned to follow my curiosity—which is the recipe for rabbit-holes ad nauseum—but to stop when I’m no longer curious. Piece by piece a model of the world is assembled. Want to build a great model? …don’t focus on building the best model. Instead focus on this next piece of the model—the next thing you read, the next person you interact with, the next thing you do, the next thing you explore.
You have a model too, and you use it constantly. What are you doing to build your model?
Hilbert had no patience with mathematical lectures which filled the students with facts but did not teach them how to frame a problem and solve it. He often used to tell them that “a perfect formulation of a problem is already half its solution.”~ Constance Reid, via Paul Graham from, http://www.paulgraham.com/know.html
Today is a three-for-one; two attributions for the quote and a hat tip for my title, which I hope you recognize as being lifted from Ulysses.
I’ve been thinking recently about wisdom. I have countless aphorisms that hint, with a wink, at how it differs from knowledge. I’m certain I don’t know exactly what wisdom is, but I am certain I know what it rhymes with. Today I listened to an entire album, the way the artist hoped I would. Today I provided a bit of help to some people who are starting out in something that I happen to know about. Today I ate peanut butter and jelly using the same spoon in both jars while nibbling at the bread. Today I read journal entries I had written 6, 3 and 1 years ago. Today I spent time with a few people important to me. Today I sat in the sun. Today I played and ran and jumped on some stuff. Today, aside from the people I interacted with, I did not leave, (nor attempt to leave,) my mark in the world.
In a non-judging way, meant only to spur you on, I ask: What did you do today?
Anyone who must in some sense bet on ideas rather than merely commenting on them has similar incentives. Which means anyone who wants such incentives can have them, by turning their comments into bets: if you write about a topic in some fairly durable and public form, you’ll find you worry much more about getting things right than most people would in a casual conversation.~ Paul Graham from, http://www.paulgraham.com/ecw.html
I’ve previously talked about several reasons why I blog, but this article by Graham reminds me of another: An incentive to be honest.
What I write here is going to hang around for a while. (At least, that’s my plan.) I’m enticed to think a tad more deeply about things before I share them, select a quote or add my commentary. I’m only writing for myself, sure, but I’d like to look back years hence and find on balance that what I wrote was reasonable and useful.
How about you?
The first step in clearing your head is to realize how far you are from a neutral observer. When I left high school I was, I thought, a complete skeptic. I’d realized high school was crap. I thought I was ready to question everything I knew. But among the many other things I was ignorant of was how much debris there already was in my head. It’s not enough to consider your mind a blank slate. You have to consciously erase it.~ Paul Graham from, http://www.paulgraham.com/lies.html
Sure, there are lies of expedience. (“What is thunder?” “It’s clouds bumping into each other.”) But it’s a water slide of lies when you start thinking about it. I know I never really thought about it; I certainly wouldn’t have expected a quick summary of the issues to be 5,000 words.
But there it is none the less, well done by Graham. It contains a litany of ways we all lie to children, (including those of us who don’t have or care for children in any way.) Frankly, some of the ways we all lie seem like an excellent thing to be doing. And if that’s the case, then we all have the we’ve-been-lied-to baggage Graham is describing.
Suddenly! (“It didn’t stop. It didn’t stop!”)
…I feel like I need to toss out the closets of my mind.
Relentlessly prune bullshit, don’t wait to do things that matter, and savor the time you have. That’s what you do when life is short.~ Paul Graham from, http://www.paulgraham.com/vb.html
Presented without comment.