Category Archives: thoughtwrestling

The purpose of pain OR sometimes things have to be hard to get better

Common wisdom:  if it hurts, don’t do it.

More wisdom:  no pain, no gain.

These statements are both true, in my experience.  The only way that they can both be true is that there is a continuum of pain in life.  Pain is not a binary on/off switch.  Pain lies along a gradient of intensity.  It’s a warning system that tells you that you’re doing something unnatural and potentially dangerous.

I don’t actively seek out pain.  I tend to avoid it.  But since I’ve been doing a physical activity during the past couple of months I’ve become reacquainted with certain kinds of pain.  More than anything else, it’s an indicator of the difference between where I started from and what I could eventually become.

I’m in pain at the moment:  my calves and heels hurt.  A few weeks ago that would have bothered me more than it does at the moment.  Last week I had a minor revelation:  as I continued to use muscles that I don’t use very often, I started to think of pain as something to move toward, not just endure.  That sounds kind of sick – and it is destructive if taken to an extreme – but it’s also an acknowledgement of something important:  some kinds of pain are necessary stages during growth.  It’s a condition that you move through as you get better, stronger and faster.  If you’re not feeling it, you’re not changing.

The important thing, for me at least, was that accepting the necessity of some kinds of pain helped me tolerate it better.  Trying to fool myself into liking pain is certainly a trick but it does seem to help a bit.

Mind you, I’m really not experiencing intense pain.  For that I’m grateful.

But the thing I’m really recognizing through this experience is that I’ve been avoiding other kinds of pain, especially creative pain.  I’m spending a lot of time filling notebooks with small bits and bobs which are, well, easy.  They are easy to do.  They don’t require real effort or pain.  They aren’t uncomfortable.

And they really aren’t helping me get better.

So I think it’s time to get uncomfortable.  To experience some more creative pain.  To dig something big.

How else will I earn a creative black sash?

How about you?  Are you avoiding creative pain too?

The R.O.I. of doing… something

Image from cambodia4kidsorg @ Flickr

What do you get for your time, effort, money and emotion spent on doing something different?

Return on investment (R.O.I.) started out as a financial ratio used by accountants and business managers.  It’s a way of describing what you get in return for the money that you’ve invested in something.  Now R.O.I. is used to refer to almost anything where you expend time, effort and money.

So here’s a question:  what are you going to get from your contribution of blood, sweat and tears to your work, especially if it’s not part of your job?  What’s your avocational R.O.I.?

Whatever you think it is, there’s plenty of work involved

“Things are made slowly and in pain,” to paraphrase a quote from Hugh MacLeod.  The pain comes not just from sustained physical effort, but from sustained mental and emotional effort.

Consider the following:

The researcher Anders Ericsson studied violinists and determined that there was a threshold of 10,000 hours of musical experience (mainly practice) which was required to become a master of the violin.  This threshold has been touted as a more general rule by Malcolm Gladwell in his book Outliers – you need to log 10,000 hours of solid practice to be a master in any discipline.

Geoff Colvin extrapolates this further in his book Talent Is Overrated to say that mindful, sustained practice (deliberate practice) and effective feedback and coaching are also the keys to developing great talent.  And this practice, by definition, is not fun.  It’s meant to be hard work.

There’s mastery and then there’s… less than mastery

So if you want to be the best in the world, do you need to lock yourself away for ten years?  At least ten years, especially if you want to be a violinist, a grand master chess player, and so on, where you have a huge talent pool to compete against and lots to learn.  On the other hand, if you’ve invented a new sport, game or skill and you’re the only one who does it, you’re the master by default.  Then you only have to worry about competition when the world finds out about it.

Do you really have to master any creative skill?  Excellent question.  It depends, of course, on how integral that skill is to your economic and emotional well-being.  In many cases, if you don’t have the chops, you don’t get the bucks.  On the other hand, some of the richest performers, athletes or professionals  (or more most famous or happiest, for that matter) are not masters of a particular skill.  But they are good enough and they have enough skills and support to get them where they want to be.

On the other hand, there are things likes title, prestige and respect that you don’t get unless you demonstrate an acceptable level of skill, knowledge and dedication to.   These things are important to a lot of people.

When are you too old to start?

Here’s another thing to think about, though:  is there a point at which it’s too late to start something new?  Is there a point at which it doesn’t make sense to reach for the stars?

For example, if I suddenly decided I wanted to become a dentist, is it too late for me to do that?

[I don't really want to become a dentist - it's just an example.]

In my case, I’m a forty-something year old man with a family to support and other obligations.  Is a career in dentistry a non-starter for me, as they say?  That depends.  It’s not impossible BUT I can’t do it without reinventing my life and status quo and that involves more people than me.  And the thing about dentistry is that it’s something that you can’t partially do… you either do it and go all the way or else you waste a lot of time, effort and money.

So, no dentistry school for me.  The ROI, in this case, is not worth the cost to me.  Your teeth can relax now.

On the other hand…

Novice of the martial arts

I’m not exactly sure how it happened but I’ve been taking Kung Fu lessons for close to two months.  My son started taking lessons and after watching a few classes I felt this desire to try it.  Quite often this is how I introduce change into my life:  spur-of-the-moment.  So I did.

We’re just learning basic moves like stances, kicks, punches and blocks at this point.  We don’t spar.  Many of us are novices.  It’s been a powerful example of how physically unprepared I was for this kind of exercise.  But slowly it’s getting better.  Some parts at least.

But here’s the thing about the martial arts:  many of them have a grading or ranking system.  You can improve over time and get tested to see if you’ve learned enough to demonstrate accomplishment.  In Kung Fu (my school, at least) you get a different colored sash each time you pass tests.  The highest level in my school is a black sash.  And then maybe you turn into Bruce Lee after a few more decades, not sure about that.

I’m a long, long, long way from getting a black sash.  And even that’s not the end, really, but it’s a clearly marked milestone.  Does it take 10,000 hours of practice to get a black sash?  I don’t know.  It probably takes a significant percentage of that time, though.  Did I start too late?  Maybe not, but it may be a lot easier to do at a younger age.

So here lies the question:  is it worth the blood, sweat and tears for me to work towards a black sash in Kung Fu (assuming that I even want to)?  And if I don’t have that long term goal, should I even bother learning Kung Fu?

The journey to mastery is different that arriving at the destination

To measure the “return on investment” for a personal development goal, you really need to measure several things:

1.  The blood, sweat and tears that you contributed to it (plus money, time, stress, etc.)

2.  The value of achieving your goal

and

3.  The value of the experience (which is separate from the goal itself)

 

When you know these things, you could attempt to make some kind of calculation of the return on your investment.

It’s natural to fixate on 2. (the value of achieving the goal) and 1. (how much it hurts and costs).

It’s probably better to focus on 3. (the value of the experience)  Because even if you don’t get to the final goal, you’ll be better off than you were before you started (unless you do something silly like crushing your toes while you practice your kicks incorrectly – which is something that I will probably wind up doing).

So on balance, it’s better to try and fail than not to try, as long as you make an honest effort.  Maybe I only make it to, say, the green sash (which I think is halfway between absolute beginner and black sash) and then I decide that I want to try ski-boxing or cross-country wrestling instead.  That’s still good.

But…

But this isn’t just about Kung Fu.

It’s really about words.

The sashes of writing

My creative black sash is completing a damned good manuscript and getting it published in book form.  And then repeating.

Things aren’t going the way that I would like them to be going in that department.  To be blunt, there’s kind of a huge chasm of a disconnect between my goal and my actions.  But there could be another factor at play here.  My approach to this goal may be more like the novice trying to pass the tests for the black sash without earning other sashes first.  So maybe I need to look at earning the other sashes first through writing smaller pieces and building up skills.  You might say I’m at that state of conscious incompetence (i.e.  I have a good idea about where and how I suck at writing – and, fortunately, what I’m good at, too).

I might also be a wee bit daunted, even scared, by how big the task is.  And I have to ask that nagging question:  what’s the R.O.I.?  What’s it worth to me?

Maybe you feel the same way about something you want to do – I don’t know.  And, like me, you probably want answers.  But I don’t think the answers are going to come unless we actually do that thing. And hence some benefits will start to accrue, if only we get started.

So this is me trying to kick my own ass into gear, even if it’s only at a snail’s pace.

Final thoughts

I’ve been sitting on this post for weeks as I’ve tried to put this… thing…  into words.

This is not my best post but it gives you some insight into what’s going on in my brain and why I haven’t been publishing much lately over the past few months.  Kind of like a snake trying to digest an elephant.

 

 

Getting better – thoughtwrestling along a road less traveled

hands of struggle

Hands of struggle by mopics80 @ Flickr

I want to share with you some of the opening lines of one of my favorite books.  These paragraphs come from The Road Less Traveled:  A New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values and Spiritual Growth by the late M. Scott Peck, M.D. They apply to a lot of the things that we’ve written about here at Thoughtwrestling:

Life is difficult.

This is a great truth, one of the greatest truths.  It is a great truth because once we truly see this truth, we transcend it.  Once we truly know that life is difficult – once we truly understand and accept it – then life is no longer difficult.  Because once it is accepted, the fact that life is difficult no longer matters.

Most do not fully see this truth that life is difficult.  Instead they moan more or less incessantly, noisily or subtly, about the enormity of their problems, their burdens, and their difficulties as if life were generally easy, as if life should be easy.  They voice their belief, noisily or subtly, that their difficulties represent a unique kind of affliction that should not be and that has somehow been especially visited upon them, or else upon their families, their tribe, their class, their nation, their race or even their species, and not upon others.  I know about this moaning because I have done my share.

In these paragraphs Peck describes one of the Four Noble Truths, as taught by the Buddha.  This Noble Truth is sometimes described by the statement “life is suffering”.  I like the way that Peck has phrased the statement because “life is suffering” implies that life on Earth is a form of penitence, a series of tortures designed to inflict pain and anguish on everyone.  As Peck describes below, the reality of most people’s lives is different:

Life is a series of problems.  Do we want to moan about them or solve them?  Do we want to teach our children to solve them?

In businessspeak, you would replace the word problem with opportunity, something that I’ve written about previously.  But really, in the context that Peck is using, opportunity may be the better word.  Peck describes this a bit more below, while also talking about how we cope with the challenges that life (or, more properly, our actions) throws at us:

Discipline is the basic set of tools we require to solve life’s problems.  Without discipline we can solve nothing.  With only some discipline we can solve only some problems.  With total discipline we can solve all problems.

What makes life difficult is that the process of confronting and solving problems is a painful one…  Yet it is in this whole process of meeting and solving problems that life has its meaning.

When I came up with the concept of thoughtwrestling, there were a couple of different things that I wanted to talk about.  One was in the context of creative work:  how do you get your mind and your ideas organized so that you could do the creative work that you wanted to do.  As I’ve read and thought more about things like how the brain works and the nature of this thing that we call willpower, the concept of thoughtwrestling takes on a broader meaning.

We are constantly at war with ourselves, although it doesn’t seem like it most of the time.  Every day, every hour, every minute and every second, your brain has to deal with multiple desires and impulses.  Your conscious mind, such as it appears to be, seems to be more of an afterthought and an attempt at directing a cantankerous herd of wild horses that all want to run in their own directions. When you’re tired, you have to fight the urge to rest with the joy you may be experiencing or the need to do something while your energy reserves are low.  When you are hungry, the presence of delicious food battles against your inability to take a break and eat or against your desire to maintain a healthy weight.

The thoughtwrestling that you have to do every day may be as simple as choosing a piece of fruit over a piece of candy.  It might be the choice between sleeping in 30 minutes or getting up early to write or to exercise.  It might be staying home to study instead of going drinking with your friends.  Or it might be the choice between watching television and confronting a personal problem.  Or acknowledging the drinking problem that’s been slowly but surely killing you.

Thoughtwrestling isn’t always about choosing the road less traveled but it’s always about choosing the more difficult path.  The journey that’s initially painful and slow has its own benefits – it makes you stronger, more patient and more determined.

These ideas continue to be important to me today as I try to take on new challenges.  I’m trying to change my creative output from short regular bursts to longer, more carefully constructed work.  I’ve also started to learn Kung Fu, which is no piece of cake for an overweight, out of shape, middle-aged man.  Both of these are very difficult things to do, at least for me and there’s always lots to do and little time.  But I know that this work is valuable.

Discipline seems to be a key factor in keeping myself on the more difficult path.  It’s also something that I need to use more.  There’s some interesting ideas about this in Switch by Chip Heath and Dan Heath.  I think that’s what I’ll write about next.

How do you keep yourself moving along the more difficult path?

Changes aren’t permanent but change is

change

By aafromaa @ Flickr

I couldn’t make any phone calls.  I was isolated from the outside world.  Why do things have to keep changing?  And what does this have to do with Thoughtwrestling?

The reason that I couldn’t reach the outside world is that they upgraded the phone system at work.  Instead of pressing 9 to get an outside line, we could just key in the rest of the phone number.  And, of course, I didn’t read the memo carefully enough.

It’s been over two weeks since the change and I still screw it up.  I have to stop and think about how to dial the phone number (“Don’t dial 9, you idiot!”)  It’s aggravating and it reminds me of how often I don’t have to think about the things that I do.

Change is hard because it forces us to stop and think about what we’re doing.  But humans, like many other organisms, are creatures of habit and most of us aren’t used to having to think about our actions.  If you had to consciously stop and think about every single action that’s required to get your body out of bed and into the bathroom when you get up sleeping, it could take you an hour or more.

Just ask someone who is recovering from a stroke like Jill Bolte Taylor and you’d learn the difficulty of continuous deliberate action.  Or you could ask a baby, but most of them aren’t very good at talking – they are too busy eating, playing, crying, pooping and sleeping.

Is there any way around the difficulties of change?  Maybe, maybe not.  But just remember:  change takes energy.

 

 

 

 

Title credit   Tom Sawyer by Rush

Balance

This is the challenge, isn’t it?  (via YouTube)

Good Book – Pragmatic Thinking & Learning

Pragmatic Thinking & LearningI’m only part of the way through this book but I can already recommend Pragmatic Thinking & Learning:  Refactor Your Wetware by Andy Hunt.  (Of course, I learned about this book here.)  The fine folks at O’Reilly Media were kind enough to send me a review copy, so I thought I’d share my thoughts on the book with you.

The Big Picture

PT&L (Pragmatic Thinking & Learning) is ostensibly intended for coders, programmers, software engineers, developers… whatever term that you want to use for people who write computer programs or design applications for a living.  As the title suggests, the book is devoted to teaching you skills and showing you resources to improve your ability to think and solve problems.  I think the book would be useful to anyone who has to think, design and solve problems for a living… which includes quite a large number of people.

The Good Stuff

The book is laid out effectively and it’s easy to read and understand.  It starts by looking at how we get better at doing things, referencing the Dreyfuss model of skill acquisition, and then branches off into various areas.  It’s full of tips, guides, explanations and some exercises to help you sharpen your brain.  It covers learning, psychology and lots of fun stuff.  The book won’t teach you how to write computer programs but it will teach you how to think better.

Quibbles

Just a minor quibble… I don’t like the notation system used in the book.  Each reference to another book or piece of work is noted with the first three characters of the author’s last name and the year it was published.  For example, A Whole New Mind by Dan Pink is referenced as Pin05.  I just didn’t find the method meaningful.

The Verdict

If you want to think better and get better at learning new skills, this is a great resource for you.

My other blog is a Tumblr

I’ve had a Tumblr account for several years.  Since I retired Broadcasting Brain I decided that I wanted another online publishing outlet that had no real restrictions on it.  I’ve now repurposed the old Tumblr account and it’s called Mark’s Commonplace Linkbook.  The name was inspired by this article.

Here’s a sample of the kind of thing that I’ll be linking to there:

not easy

from 9gag

I’ll be publishing more often at the Linkbook, but you can still look forward to the regular, meatier stuff here.

Enjoy!

What you do when your draft isn’t done

I’m obsessing (possibly in an unhealthy way) over the concept of using multiple drafts to develop a piece of writing.

I’d like to blame this podcast and this wonderful book by this wonderful writing coach for this change of heart… but I don’t, really.

I read over what I had written for today’s post and – guess what – I want to write at least one more draft of it.

So let me send you off to a couple of great blog posts I’ve read this week by the Communicatrix and Justine Musk (you may find Justine’s title offensive, though).  I think you’ll enjoy those.

See you next week!

 

The Unconscious Mind Is Where The Magic Really Happens

Where do the words, images, colors and sounds really come from?

I believe in the power of the unconscious mind. I believe that all creativity comes from within, supplemented and influenced by the world around us. There is no divine inspiration – sorry, Elizabeth Gilbert. We do not channel the creative ideas of gods, spirits, daemons or fictional characters and spit them into our preferred medium.

Mozart’s compositions were not hand delivered by muses or some kind of supreme power. Even the geniuses among us grind work out by conscious choice or they take mixed ideas that boil up from unconscious thought processing and work them into shape, like potters molding clay into art.

Some people use the terms subconscious mind and unconscious mind interchangeably. The thing that they’re talking about is the type of thinking and information processing that seems to happen when we’re busy doing other things. That’s where the magic really happens.

I know, I know – it seems impossible that some of the crazier, brilliant ideas in the world came from the inside of people’s heads. It’s hard to believe when we see things like the Grand Canyon, platypuses and gigantic squids which are the products of nature. But like wine being produced by fermentation and how photos once took time to develop, the unconscious mind comes up with some pretty amazing stuff.

None of us really know much about the unconscious mind, let alone understand it. But is it really much harder to believe that fantastic ideas can germinate inside your own head than it is to believe that some impossibly omnipotent being put them in there?

We all need to understand and harness the power within our own heads.  It’s tricky, mysterious and rarely easy, but it’s the real source.

If you want to be creative, learn to put your trust in yourself and be prepared to work hard with your mind to make great work.

This is what I think.  I could be wrong.  What do you think?

The power of reading wide and deep

Note: this post originally appeared at the late, great Broadcasting Brain. It’s been significantly edited for your reading enjoyment.

After the last post about books, I thought it might make sense to talk about a bit more one of the reasons for owning books:  reading them to get new ideas and learn new things.  There’s certainly no shortage of books to read out there.  We often read fiction for pleasure and read non-fiction to learn.

When it comes to learning, business and educational institutions seem to go in cycles where they emphasize general knowledge over specific knowledge, and vice versa.  In my own case, although I graduated with a business degree, I had a wide cross-section of arts and science electives.  At the time, I couldn’t get a concentration in any specific area within business:  I couldn’t major or concentrate in marketing, accounting, finance, management, etc.

These days everything is about specialization:  knowing the details of specific parts of a domain, like how Masters or Doctoral students become world experts in extremely specific things.  Or how you can take courses on specific computer operating systems, languages or tools.  Specialization narrows your focus as you pursue laser-accurate and restricted expertise.

That has both advantages and disadvantages.  The advantages are obvious.  The disadvantages are less obvious when you only interact in a very limited domain of expertise, knowledge and people.

Wherever possible and practical, I think we all benefit from knowledge that is both deep and wide.  Some people think of this as a T-shape, where you get very specific in a limited area and stay very shallow in all other areas.  The better approach, I think, is to look at it as an inverted pyramid or wedge, where your knowledge in adjacent disciplines is also quite deep, and then it tapers gradually off.

Reading and practical experience provide this depth of knowledge and allow you to make connections between ideas, disciplines and tools.  This is especially important for anyone who does any form of creative work.

This is a crucial reason why you not only need to read deep, but wide as well.

Why reading narrowly is dangerous

box in box

I think there is a danger in too much focus, too much precision and too much narrowing of scope, particularly when you are looking for source material and inspiration. I think that a writer (or thinkers or doers) needs to look both inside and outside of their niche for education, inspiration, and enjoyment.

If you stay inside your niche, you’re going to tend to read the same people and the same ideas over and over. People in niches tend to repeat common topics and themes throughout their writings because, well, niches are limiting by definition.

After awhile, things start to sound the same within a niche, hence the derogatory term echo chamber.

Just as inbreeding can lead to genetic defects, staying within a common pool of thought and ideas tends to screen out helpful diversity which stimulates different thoughts.  This restricts creativity and innovation.

Don’t just take my word for it, take his!

There’s a guy who writes a lot. His books are best-sellers. Some of his writings have been adapted to television and film. At least one major work is the inspiration for a comic book series.

You might have heard of him. His name is Stephen King.

King is well known for a number of works of fiction, but he also wrote an interesting little book called On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft.

There are a couple of interesting concepts from On Writing that lend themselves to my point:

1. Good stories come from the juxtaposition of ideas

peanut butter and chocolate

King writes about how he got the idea for Carrie when he was thinking about two different concepts:

  • The first concept was adolescent cruelty, particularly how young girls could be cruel to the ugly duckling or physically immature girl.
  • The second was how certain supernatural phenomena might be explained as manifestations of telekinetic power, which is the theoretical ability for people to move objects through their thoughts.

Somehow, his mind connected these two things by seeing telekinetic power as a way for the ugly duckling to strike back at her antagonistic peers and POW: a writing career got a major shot in the arm.

My point here is that King took two different trains of thought and combined them to make something different.  This is a key characteristic of creative thinking and creative work.

2. Good writers are voracious readers

buffet

King summarizes the second point with the following sentence:

“Write a lot and read a lot.”

To make his point, he includes a list of the books that he read during a four year period while writing four of his own books. His list includes a mixture of novels from different decades and genres, including classics like To Kill A Mockingbird and newer hits like the first three Harry Potter books.

I’m certain that he devoured an even greater quantity of newspapers, magazines, and non-fiction books at the same time.

All of that information doesn’t just sit in a brain, static and neglected. King says the following about the list of novels that he read:

“In some way or other, I suspect each book in the list had an influence on the books I wrote.”

So what’s the point of all of this?

I don’t recommend narrowing focus in your reading and research, especially if you want to be an interesting and entertaining writer. If you’re going to focus anything, focus your output.

Over time, we do make more informed choices about what to read and where to look for inspiration and thus we do get better on focusing on valuable content. All I’m suggesting, however, is that you should look for good content both inside and outside of your niche.  I’ve read blog posts about cheese, for example, that have made my mouth water.  Understanding how those blog posts work their magic is invaluable.

As King suggests, the juxtaposition of different ideas, which comes from broad and varied reading, can yield great results.

Over to you:  do you read broadly (inside and outside of your area of expertise)?  How has that helped you?

[note:  forgive me, but I have no idea of the names of the original sources of the photos in this blog post.]