Category: Life

I came across an interesting blog post Hardship and Meaning by Daniel Miessler postulating that hardship might produce a certainty of meaning that seems to be lacking among more prosperous folks in America.

I found the premise reasonable, but I’d curious about the levels of depression among the non-immigrant poor. Is their experience like immigrants, given their similar economic struggles, or is it more like other natives in the middle class?

Non-immigrants are often blind to the strangeness of their native cultures. Aside from the luck of being born into the middle class in America, I think that I’ve been able to reasonably manage the ups and downs of life because my childhood gave me a visceral experience that American culture is merely one option among many choices. My parents were deeply religious and we attended a white church. Even though everyone was in tight theological alignment, our family maintained a cultural identity quite distinct from most of the congregation.

While being “other” came with many awkward moments while growing up, it was also greatly beneficial to viscerally understand the concept of culture as an artificial construct. What seems “universally natural” is only normal to one’s own people. The children of immigrants are the fish that see the water.

In that vein, I tend to find myself drawn to other immigrants. One of the more interesting examples is a white coworker with whom I had developed a close relationship. It took a few years before I found out that his parents were from Europe and that English was not his language at home. Even though our political views were quite divergent, this basic experience of “otherness” was an unspoken foundation of our relationship.

Conversely, I’ve also found myself having a surprisingly difficult time relating to some immigrants who moved the States as adults. They often carry themselves with a certain self assuredness that comes from being part of the majority dominant culture during their formative years. In spite of other cultural similarities, I can have a difficult time viscerally relating to them.

It is a dangerous game to play armchair psychologist (especially in public). I’m certain that growing up as “other” inflicted psychic mental trauma that I’m ignoring, and I should also note that I’m lucky since the burden of my minority is quite mild compared to the stereotypes that other groups endure. The contentious online world usually focuses on the downsides of such an upbringing, so I hope it was worth exploring some of the benefits.

It’s not fun growing up different, but there is deep value in knowing that no normal is universal – every group of “we” is a little bit weird.

I woke up and pulled out my phone.
I read the preface to Orange by John McPhee.
And the first chapters of The Tao is Silent by Raymond Smullyan.

Then I picked up my new copy of the I Ching and read Richard Lynn’s introductory remarks.

My mind was blown.

Three new books.
Two technologies, a pocket computer and a codex.
One morning.

All this information for my little brain.

How do I keep up?

䷲䷵

of making many books there is no end
and much study is a weariness of the flesh

A few months ago, my friend wrote one of the best blog posts of the year about navigating this pandemic. I’m biased because I like the dude, but it is also the perfect encapsulation of how I’ve been trying to live this past year.

I think a more productive way to go about life, especially in tough times like these, is to make the best of the information we have at our disposal and as a corollary, to always try to expand our knowledge of the world we live without worrying too much about things that are outside of our control.

Arnaud Marthouret

In a year of countless tragedies for others, I must admit this past year has gone quite well for me. The main reason is because the hand of fate has spared my loved ones. However, it is also because I haven’t obsessed about the limitations of a year at home. Instead I’ve just focused on the limited options in front of my nose and tried my best to ignore the lost opportunities.

When I get stir crazy, I remind myself about life in 2003 when the original SARS became news. Imagine being stuck at home without ubiquitous high speed internet video and portable multimedia devices for the kids! Then again, my appreciation of today’s creature comforts are surpassed by my gratitude that I’ve finally slowed down enough to start enjoying the great relics of human thought, such as the I Ching and the Havamal. Hell, I just started reading the Bhagavad Gita!

Maybe this myopic attitude on “making do” with a quasi-religious inward turn will end up being a suboptimal long term strategy after a return to normal life. But it has been a great tactic turning for turning a year in quarantine into into one of positive growth.

It’s not a perfect life, but it is worth enjoying “as it is“.

While a completely carefree approach to life might be a bit too much at times, learning to let loose and enjoy life as it is, not an idealized, perfected version of it, is a very good rule for life.

Arnaud Marthouret

I must study politics and war that my sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy. My sons ought to study mathematics and philosophy, geography, natural history, naval architecture, navigation, commerce, and agriculture, in order to give their children a right to study painting, poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry, and porcelain.

John Adams

I’ve played with various mission statements over the last couple years slowly condensing into the motto “Mutual Delight and Refinement”.

In spite of our current political and medical turmoil, I still hope that the world will continue to improve. I’m well aware this is not guaranteed, just look at the Dark Ages or the brutal centuries of war after the Zhou and Han Dynasties. However, I suspect that staring fully into the abyss would only cast a shadow over today while doing little to help prevent a dark tommorrow.

So I hope. Every time I imagine a future for my own kids, I find them producing something of beauty, making things better around them.

Life is both about enjoyment and betterment.

Let’s make it real.

I’ve been listening to Cal Newport’s Deep Questions podcast where he sells the idea of the “deep life”, a worldview that fits nicely with which goes well with Greg McKweon’s “essentialism”. So it was quite fun to pair the two in an interview episode on Greg’s podcast.

Not surprisingly, it made me think about what really matters in life?

Starting with previous ponderings, I’ve developed a rough motto of “gently enjoy and improve the world together”.

The most immediate “together” in my world is my family and kids.

What matters when “gently enjoying the world” with my kids? Being present, and limiting distraction. Trying to be a supportive of their growth (sometimes gently, sometimes strictly). Teaching them to be good at what they do and to be kind to those around them.

Beyond teaching, it is important to model the good life – developing a valuable skill with careful dedication to earn a living. Outside of work, one should enjoy a variety of quality leisure activities: writing on this blog, reading a variety of books, drawing, twiddling on my banjo, baking bread, and hanging out. If I had more an “excellence” mindset, I might pick one and dump the rest, but I’m queasy with the tradeoff that comes with hyper focusing one’s non-compensated pursuits. I believe that breadth matters in appreciating what the world around us.

But what matters for “improving the world”?

Honestly, I haven’t figured that part out, beyond my immediate family and some small work projects. If I was of a more altruistic bent maybe I would join a service organization, however, there isn’t a group or cause that I feel strongly about.

Maybe it’s just a cop out, but for now, the family is what matters and getting the kids pointed in the right direction is my primary focus. That’s what really matters at this time.

It’s hard enough to improve yourself and those you love, much less the world (even if it’s part of your personal motto). Maybe that part comes later.

Given my predilection for self help literature, I made a mission statement after rereading Covey’s Seven Habits.  Two months later, I realized that I couldn’t recall it off the top of my head.

To share and experience the variety and richness of the world….so that we can experience the simple pleasures of life together.

Since that wasn’t working, I searched around my computer and came across this old Simon Sinek “Why statement” that from a few years ago.

TO make continual incremental improvements SO THAT everyone’s daily lives are better.

However, this was too mechanistic. I enjoy making things better, but to completely focus my life around kaizen was artless.

Lately I’ve been playing around this slightly hedonistic mission statement.

To gently enjoy and improve the world so others can too.

It is a little tighter, and the “to…too” is cute. However, this latest version still isn’t elegant because it is is juggling multiple items:

• Enjoy
• Improve
• Gentle
• Others

Three mission statements into this exercise, it is worth noting that all of them have a slight outward focus. I don’t feel a strong urge for service, but I know life can’t be just about my own solipsistic pleasure.

Curiously, the first two statements were unintentionally combined for this most recent iteration. I want to make the world a little better, but it would be disrespectful to not enjoy the fullness of life. We ought to be good stewards and good guests during our sojourn.

Hopefully, the statement will be further refined in a future iteration. Maybe I’ll condense it by misusing a foreign language (et frui meliorem), or just simplify it further (mutual delight and refinement).

But good enough is good enough. I’ve learned in design that part of the process is jumping scales, even if one level isn’t perfectly refined. Instead of shaving away at the mission statement. It will be more fruitful to ponder “Horizon 4” in GTD parlance.

How does this working mission become a vision for the next three to five years?

Last month, my sister celebrated her birthday with a hiking excursion and a family zoom call. Later that night, I found out that my friend lost his wife, leaving him and her young toddler.

The start of one life mirrored by the end of another. Our joyous day will ever be their tragedy.

With the billions of us and only 365 days in a year, I guess every date is memorialized for millions around the world, good and ill.

Even if it’s just math, such a stark coincidence feels gratuitously cruel.

No date is clean.

Every day is both-and.

Aside from bragging about the minor achievement of placing one foot in front of another for an extended period, there were a few thoughts that popped up into my head as I spent five and a half hours on the road that morning.

Even though this was a simple task, not everyone has completed a half marathon. I’ve never done a “13.1” before, but I’m pretty sure I’ve logged more miles in a single day on foot while being a tourist. So anyone can do a half!

But realistically, not everyone can do it. Such an act implies both the ability walk and the freedom to wantonly waste six hours. A half marathon is a luxury. I might indulge in a little credit for my decent health, but most of it is good genes and good luck with a family support structure that let me wander off one long morning.

The week before the half marathon, I walked a 10K. I started that challenge by pushing for a faster pace. However, my body quickly sent me warning signals. After a mile of the uptempo pace, I paused and realized that the goal of each stage of this Quarantine Quartet was to finish each stage. Sometimes it’s easy to get caught up with style, and if you can do something better, you should. However, it is important to stay clear on the primary goal of an endeavor.

With the previous week’s lesson in mind, I paced myself during this half marathon. After walking all the interior streets of my neighborhood, I had completed 12.30 miles. At that point, I could rewalk some interior streets and stop at the minimum distance, or I could take a loop around the entire subdivision, which would end up around 15.1 miles. Since I had maintained my leisurely 21’30” pace, I had the energy to go two miles over the top! Sometimes, keeping a little in reserve will still allow you to finish in style.

I’m not sure if I’ll ever indulge in such an activity again, but the Quartet was a good experience, especially since it introduced me to the hills behind my neighborhood. More importantly, it was a reminder I need to walk and exercise a bit every day. I didn’t need this twitter challenge to know that, but sometimes a silly spark is what is needed. Let’s hope the flame keeps burning.