by Owen | Dec 31, 2019 | Articles, Habits, Practices
Everything we’ve talked about so far: Identity, Environment, Accountability, and Measurement. It all means nothing if we don’t show up — one way or another, we have to take action.
It doesn’t need to be perfect, or well-planned, and it doesn’t need to be a feat of strength either. That comes along the way. Whatever you want to achieve, getting healthier, reading more, writing more, chasing your creative vision, at some point, the only thing left to do is start. It’s the most straightforward part, but also the most difficult to overcome.
You may not feel like doing it some times. “The exercise is too hard,” or “the book too difficult.” “I don’t have any ideas for my next piece,” you say. But it’s worth it to prove yourself wrong. Every time you conquer that fear and take a step, it becomes easier. You are better than you know, and the only way to see that is to show up and try. Every attempt, no matter how small, pushes us closer to our goals. And that change you seek? It will come. Not all at once, or right away, but eventually, you will see it. I can promise you that.
So, tomorrow we begin our journey. Are you willing to show up and make the change you want to see in yourself? We have prepared. We are ready. The only thing left to do is leap.
Whatever your resolutions this year, let’s hit the ground running. Tomorrow, its time to show up.
by Owen | Dec 29, 2019 | 2019-2020, Weekend Reflections
What I’m Reading: On Writing Well by William Zinsser
I approached this book with a lot of fear. I, an untrained hobby writer, have so much to learn about the craft that any entry point seemed intimidating. Especially in approaching a book focused exclusively on writing nonfiction. That had to be a slog. But I was utterly wrong on every account. This book is a godsend for my craft, and I can’t get enough of it. Zinsser has the incredible ability to both teach and live his lessons all at the same time. The book feels as if we are in the classroom with him. Even in the throes of discussing proper usage and punctuation, Zinsser’s wit comes up to strike you as if out of nowhere. I’ve already filled the book with notes, and I will be returning to it time and time again.
What I’m Listening To: Against the Rules with Michael Lewis
I’ve finally found a podcast to fill the hole that Revisionist History left behind. Perhaps unsurprisingly, that podcast also comes from Pushkin Industries. Michael Lewis, the author of books, like Moneyball and The Big Short, uses his new podcasting platform to take a closer look at the decline and state of the “referees” in American life, from government organizations, sports, legislation, mediation and more. I’ll be sad to finish this one in the coming days. I’m counting down until future seasons from Pushkin.
What I’ve Accomplished: The Resolution Series
One of the big goals I set for myself this month was to put out an article every week. It took shape as a series of posts or articles I wrote about my approach to habit development and concept. It’s a topic I have a lot of thoughts on and with new years resolutions looming, I thought it a good a place as any to start. While I’m not entirely happy with how everything turned out, the project did what I intended. It forced me to write. More importantly, it allowed me to experiment with longer-form writing and find a sense of style and structure in each of those posts. I was sure I wouldn’t be able to get anything written each week, but eventually, it would come to fruition. They aren’t perfect, or even well-done, but I got something down, and that’s what matters. At least for now. I’m excited to see what other pieces I will write in the coming weeks.
by Owen | Dec 27, 2019 | Articles, Habits, Practices
Measuring your progress has the potential to be a valuable tool. It can be a great way to keep yourself accountable or to provide insight. But without a deeper understanding of how that data affects us, we are bound to get wrapped up in self-judgment. However, If we take a careful and eagled-eyed approach to measurement we can help ourselves to make more informed decisions on our journey.
Measuring Optimal
I am 16. I stare in the floor to ceiling mirror across from me, turning to one side and then the other, my face contorting with each turn, distress, panic, sorrow. Shifting from one enemy to the next, I step on my scale. For a moment, I see my self-loathing, held in its glass case, balanced by the idealized number in my mind, a fraction in either direction determining its banishment or its freedom. Of course, it is not my prisoner. This simple ritual proves that.
Numbers and data haunted me. I would compare my numerical proportions to others like stats on trading cards, ranking myself among my peers. I defined myself by the numbers. I determined my self-worth by my distance from what I believed to be “optimal.”
My relationship with my scale, of course, would become one of the most robust roots of my body dysmorphia. Today I am still tentative in approaching my weight and body measurements. The long term effects follow me every day. I recently admitted to friends, to some unease, another one of my methods: counting calories. It became so ingrained over the years that it is involuntary. I can look at a portion of food and guess within 100 calories how much it’s worth. It’s a neat party trick.
From the outsider perspective, it’s easy to see how insane this is. Why hinge your self-worth on a measurement? But we make this kind of value judgment all of the time — the difference between scoring a 95 or a 92 on an exam, being able to read 90 pages a day of one book but only 30 of another. Each of these comparisons contributes to how we value ourselves and our habits.
Intrinsically we know the size or numbers mean nothing. 72 is smaller than 160, but I wouldn’t feel any better measuring myself in Kilos. The urge to compare and cast judgment exists no matter the scale. What this shows us that we are contributing something else. It is something we can’t always control. It took another approach, another idea, to change how I viewed my weight and my calorie counting. Our unconscious contrast creates a story. And in the story lies the problem.
Overcoming The Narrative Fallacy
When we look at a set of facts or numbers, we, by nature, start to craft a story around them. Stories, unlike statements and data, are abstract, they ignore pieces of context or rationale to form a cohesive narrative. In some areas, this can be valuable. The consistency and approachability of stories help us to learn, remember, and internalize the ideas they contain. But this can often be a trap when it comes to personal narratives. When trying to change ourselves for the better and develop our resolutions, we need to be able to see the field as clearly as possible. We have to understand our faults and our environment without abstraction to see where we might make adjustments. The mask of personal narration clouds neutral judgment, placing unfounded value on facts that are nothing more than information.
The narrative of the “ideal body” clouded how I judged myself and put undue importance on my measurements. The negative associations with calorie counting made my friends uneasy. There is a story in every statement.
The Narrative Fallacy is something we will encounter every day. Acknowledging its presence does not rid us of it. We can, however, begin to notice its presence and counteract it. Or at the very least steer it in our favor. When we see ourselves drawing useless or irrational comparisons, we can start to form a new story around the clearer and more positive ideals.
Point the stories in the direction of our identity, and they will serve us all the better. I began counting calories around the idea of restriction and weight loss. Shifting the narrative, I took to observing nutritional value to learn what it means to be healthy. The first narrative focuses on the arbitrary, the latter on the identity. It wasn’t until I shifted the story that I understood the real value of the junk I was eating — using that I could make better decisions about how to be healthy, not just eat less. Only when we have precise data can we fully experiment with change.
The goal is to use measurement as a point of reflection. The comparison and narrative are inevitable. So make it work in our favor. Data can help to steer us in unfamiliar waters. Understanding the outcomes of our decisions and habits is the only way to refine them.
When we use our tools of measurement to clear the fog instead of creating it, we create a chart of our journey. We can better predict the waters while leaving a clear path for us to follow when the tides come to push us back.
Moving Forward
We are days away from the new year. By now, we have loaded up our toolkit with everything we need to set off. The only thing left to do is start.
by Owen | Dec 26, 2019 | Creativity, Impromptu
The first wheel wasn’t on a wagon or a cart. It was for spinning pottery until someone saw an opportunity.
Apple didn’t invent the MP3 player. Yet, there’s no question the iPod revolutionized music.
Even sliced bread was a flop until Wonder Bread brought it to grocery stores more than a decade later.
Innovation isn’t about being first. Nor does it require genius. Sometimes all we need is a new perspective.
What do you see? What can you do better?
Show us your angle. Reinvent the wheel.
by Owen | Dec 22, 2019 | 2019-2020, Weekend Reflections
What I’m Reading: Creative Calling by Chase Jarvis
I’ve never seen a book play the line of inspiration and application so well. This book is Jarvis’ call to action for creators. He provides insight on his approach to living and designing a creative life, how he gains traction with his audience, examines the life of fellow creatives, and even gets down to his daily habits like cold therapy. More important; however, Jarvis shows us that all we truly need to be creative is to take the first step, take the risk we’ve been wondering about, and repeat every day.
What I’m Considering: When Plan Meets Feeling
Sometimes we can spend weeks or months fantasizing about the future and our plans. The world has trained us to think of this as a sure-fire strategy. It seems the most successful always plan their lives well in advance of their achievements. So we should as well, right? But what happens when we get there and suddenly we want something else? Do we abandon the plans we’ve laid to risk it all on something else? My gut says yes, but my head says no. Perhaps there is something worthwhile in between. A small risk, a slight change in the plan, could be all we need to show us the best possible future.
This essay only serves to solidify Kreider as my newfound favorite writer and storyteller. I’ll let the piece speak for itself.
