Alexandersmap

    Category: Learning

    • What Living Ben Franklin’s Five Hour Rule Really Tells You

      Google “Ben Franklin’s five hour rule” and you’ll receive page after page of business magazine articles gushing about how you too can transform your career and life using old Ben’s technique. They spin it to current times saying Bill Gates and Elon Musk follow this rule too! Just click and read on… and you get pretty much the same paragraph from every one of them:

      “The five-hour rule is a process first implemented by Benjamin Franklin for constant and deliberate learning. It involves spending one hour a day or five hours a week learning, reflecting and experimenting.”

      I could link to one of those articles, but which one? They all use the same two vanilla sentences. No deep dive into actual Ben Franklin quotes. I’m at a point in my life where this just doesn’t hold up for me anymore. Life is deeper than a Twitter-sized rule for living.

      You know who’s not breathlessly scanning those business articles for that one key rule used by Ben Franklin? Bill Gates or Elon Musk. Because they’ve long since passed that level of reading and shallow thinking in their own lives through consistent, dedicated learning, applied personal growth habits and occasionally taking audacious risks measured against that acquired knowledge.

      And that last bit is the key. Knowing when to take the leap into the unknown isn’t just instinct, it’s detecting patterns and opportunity gleaned from multiple sources of informed learning. Put down the mobile phone and pick up a book, find a quiet corner of your hectic life, and read. Learn something new that brings you to something else new. And as you acquire that wisdom do something with it. Gates and Musk, like Franklin before them, are just people like you and me who take things to a level the rest of us aren’t prepared or willing to go to… but could.

      For the last several years I’ve read every day, sought meaningful encounters wherever I am, stretched my reading to sometimes uncomfortable places, learned a bit of another language every day and firmly established the habit of writing about it right here in this blog. I’m living that Franklin rule without calling it that. I’ve learned that life is more complicated than two sentence rules for living. But the occasional spark of applied audacity has its place too.

    • Crossing the Stream to Deeper

      “If you want to win the war for attention, don’t try to say ‘no’ to the trivial distractions you find on the information smorgasbord; try to say ‘yes’ to the subject that arouses a terrifying longing, and let the terrifying longing crowd out everything else….

      The way to discover a terrifying longing is to liberate yourself from the self-censoring labels you began to tell yourself over the course of your mis-education… Focus on the external objects of fascination, not on who you think you are. Find people with overlapping obsessions.

      The information universe tempts you with mildly pleasant but ultimately numbing diversions. The only way to stay fully alive is to dive down to your obsessions six fathoms deep. Down there it’s possible to make progress toward fulfilling your terrifying longing, which is the experience that produces the joy.”
      — David Brooks, “The Art of Focus”, The New York Times

      The tricky thing about discovering “primary source” material is that you’ll uncover that what you believed to be primary source references other primary sources, which infers they aren’t the primary source at all. Such is the Great Conversation, spinning through life one book, interview or article at a time. We leap from one to the other, like stones across a stream, until we reach our destination with delight (and a new stack of reading material).

      Something recently pointed me towards Cal Newport’s Deep Work, which is a how-to book on pushing the shallow work aside to get to the deep work, where we differentiate ourselves and find true meaning in our careers and lives. Newport, in turn, pointed me towards several articles and books that I hadn’t previously been aware of, and a couple that I hadn’t fully absorbed on the first go-around. I’ve pursued them all recently, all in an effort to get meaningful work done. For we all must go deeper if there’s any hope for us to contribute something meaningful. And that requires breaking the spell of distraction:

      “Efforts to deepen your focus will struggle if you don’t simultaneously wean your mind from a dependence on distraction. Much in the same way that athletes must take care of their bodies outside of their training sessions, you’ll struggle to achieve the deepest levels of concentration if you spend the rest of your time fleeing the slightest hint of boredom.” — Cal Newport, Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World

      Here’s the thing: In diving into all this material around deep work, I’ve questioned whether this blog is itself deep or shallow (It aims for deep, but sometimes skims a bit shallower than I’d like). But what is the purpose of the blog but to establish a daily habit of writing and finding things out—things that gradually pull me deeper? Put another way, those stones I’m hopping across in life are documented, one at a time, for anyone that wishes to follow along. But even here, we all choose our own path across that stream of life, we just happen to land on the same spot now and then.

      That terrifying longing? It’s on the other side, and the only way to reach it is to stop watching the debris float by in the stream of distraction and focus on the next landing spot, and the one after that. Our time is short, and we have so far to go. So go deeper.

    • What Shapes Us

      All that passes descends,
      and ascends again unseen
      into the light: the river
      coming down from sky
      to hills, from hills to sea,
      and carving as it moves,
      to rise invisible,
      gathered to light, to return
      again. “The river’s injury
      is its shape.” I’ve learned no more.
      We are what we are given
      and what is taken away;
      blessed be the name
      of the giver and taker.
      For everything that comes
      is a gift, the meaning always
      carried out of sight
      to renew our whereabouts,
      always a starting place.
      And every gift is perfect
      in its beginning, for it
      is “from above, and cometh down
      from the Father of lights.”
      Gravity is grace.
      – Wendell Berry, The Gift of Gravity

      Splitting firewood over the weekend, I swung the axe down upon a log with a previous split running partially down the oak fibers. The axe shattered the log into three pieces, one of which flew directly into my shin just below my right knee. Ouch! Of course it was the right leg–its never the left leg that gets injured. The list of “gifts” is long: Broken leg (car), sprained ankle (basalt), bruised heel (beach), torn calf (crosswalk) and a previous shin injury (steel pole on a wet deck) that looked like a second knee all assaulted the right leg. The left? Blissfully spared such assaults. By comparison this latest incident was just a small bruise and another story to tell.

      We all work to make sense of the gifts we’re given, welcome or not, they shape us. We’re molded by the world, branded by others, given a big break now and again, twisted by fate, fallen in love and gutted by loss. Our shape is our injury, accumulated over a lifetime.

      It’s not just injuries that shape us, but travel and poetry and great books and a song at just the right moment, by quiet persistence and chance encounters and dumb luck. In quiet moments I linger on conversations I had years ago with people I haven’t spoken with since. The way I see the world, phrases that I use to this day, all came as a gift from a place long ago, silt and debris carried in the current of my life and washing over others before continuing onward to eternity. We carry more than we ever realize, and reveal it to the world one small splash at a time.

      A blog is accretive. We observe the world and the gifts we receive–like a snippet from a long Wendell Berry poem–turn them in our minds and release them to wash over others. Some make an impact, most flow unobserved to eternity. Such is the way.

    • Eudaimonia: The Act of Living Well

      There’s an ancient Greek word, frequently associated with Aristotle, called eudaimonia. Aristotle meant it as living virtuously. It’s best translated in modern English not as “happiness”, but as “flourishing” or “living well”. Let’s face it, chasing happiness is a fools game (for happiness is an evasive and subjective pursuit, and without purpose, empty), but pursuing eudaimonia—living well—is a lifestyle choice. And it begins with knowing what living well means to you.

      The spirit of eudaimonia, going back to Aristotle, is to make the most of yourself in your short time here. That making the most of yourself business is what you and I have been chasing for a long time, isn’t it? To live virtuously, to flourish in the art of living, to learn and grow and travel and build something better of yourself. To be fit and vibrant and sharp as a tack. To be articulate and passionate and the eager student in this master class of living.

      We are all in the pursuit of eudaimonia, we just don’t use that particular word to describe our objective. Maybe we should. There’s another Greek word, Arete, meaning excellence, that comes to mind. If Arete is the ultimate goal, eudaimonia is the path to get us closer to it. We may never reach the former, but we can certainly flourish and live well and strive to maximize our potential. And isn’t that the point of living in the first place?

    • Live & Learn

      “There are three kinds of men. The one that learns by reading. The few who learn by observation. The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence for themselves.” – Will Rogers

      Don’t look now, but we’re approaching the last month of the year. What has this year taught us? That we’re more resilient than we thought? Or more fragile? It’s both, isn’t it? And while we’re at it, we’re capable of more than we thought and far too distracted to maximize our potential. Global issues seem too complex to solve so we focus on rich people flying into space instead.

      We humans get a lot wrong on our quick dash across time, but we usually get just enough right to keep ourselves on track. That is the promise the new day brings, this sense of optimism that comes with not screwing up too much so far, and believing it will be so again today. The lot of us are collectively peeing on the electric fence and learning some shocking lessons. So far the voltage on that electric fence has only been set to stun.

      Instead of kicking the can down the road into next year, what if we rolled up our sleeves and tackled our biggest challenges now? Spin up a bit of positive momentum towards our collective future with applied effort now. Imagine the lessons we might learn about ourselves if we focused on doing what desperately needs to get done?

    • The Trick In the Compass

      “It is a fault to wish to be understood before we have made ourselves clear to ourselves.” — Simone Weil

      The quote above is making the rounds on Twitter again, stirred up first by Maria Popova and recently by Tim Ferriss. When the student is ready the teacher will appear, it is said, and whatever brought the quote back to my attention, I was ready to receive it. Maybe you are too.

      The last time I consulted my compass, I was sitting in a parking lot in front of a sporting goods store, hearing the truth. He told me to stop writing about death so much, but accepted my answer that stoicism isn’t a preoccupation with death, it’s a reminder to live with urgency. It would be the last conversation we’d ever have, and I wonder at the exchange even now.

      The trick in the compass is that it doesn’t show true north, it shows magnetic north. The difference between the two is called the magnetic inclination. Magnetic north, simplified, changes with the molten core of the Earth. Its more fluid, if you will. We change in just such a way. Just like the compass, we must adjust our heading based on how far from true north our core has shifted our magnetic north. No wonder so many find themselves off course.

      Making ourselves clear to ourselves is a journey. It requires walking many miles, the consumption of vast amounts of poetry and prose, a good friend or mentor alongside, and certainly, a whole lot of writing. But mostly it requires stumbling over hard truths, picking yourself up and setting yourself back on the path.

    • Killing Our Previous Self

      Sacrifice the things you used to believe, and the ways you used to be.
      Learning leaves a trail of little deaths.
      – Derek Sivers, How To Live

      The highest reward for a person’s toil is not what they get for it, but what they become by it. – John Ruskin

      We all transform into something different. This is the only way, for no matter how much we might embrace the comfort of our current self, it must ultimately die and be cast aside for the person we become by our actions. The question isn’t whether who we once were dies, but rather, who does the killing. Do we move ourselves towards that which we aspire to be, or does the world leave us behind, a shell of our previous self? Don’t let this happen to you friend!

      The pandemic killed more than the people who succumbed to COVID-19. It killed what was comfortable and routine for the masses, changing us in profound ways that we might not fully understand. But that death of our former self was going to happen anyway, it only accelerated in the pandemic. Mourn what has passed if you will, but then dust yourself off and ask yourself, what comes next for me?

      I mourn the passing of old friendships. People I was once close with who have disappeared down the path of their own lives. But then again, I’ve changed too. Learned new things, built new habits, formed new alliances. Our paths were once parallel and then diverged. Old friends might still gather and celebrate what once was, or look towards a place where we cross paths once again, but ultimately we must keep walking our own path, just as they do. Whatever will be will be. Should we meet again, wouldn’t it be better if we built a great story of how our lives grew in the time we were apart?

      Success is not to be pursued; it is to be attracted by the person you become. – Jim Rohn

      I celebrate the journey others are on, even as I continue on my own path. We’ll have so much to talk about, should we meet again. Stories about those long-dead former selves transformed into something different. Don’t we owe it to ourselves to make that story greater than what it once was? To learn and grow and follow the path that brings us the most meaning in our lives, and share this greater self with others? That, it seems to me, is what success really is.

    • Add a Question Mark

      Don’t accept the false stories people tell.
      Things are neither good nor bad — they’re as neutral as a rock.
      When people give opinions, add a question mark.
      If they say, “Immigration is bad,” change it to, “Immigration is bad?”
      Let the questions drift away, unanswered.
      – Derek Sivers, How To Live

      There’s a hidden message in this Sivers book that comes to you as you read it. Don’t take it all at face value. Question everything. Especially the very things you’re reading in his book. The advice feels both right on point and at other times the completely opposite of what you believe in your core. And that’s the point of it all. There’s no set way to live your life, question all advice and find what works for you.

      I wish more people would add a question mark instead of just blindly believing what they hear from people with accumulated connections, titles and degrees. They may be absolutely correct about a position they take, but it’s just a story until we validate it ourselves. The old expression, “Trust, but verify” comes to mind. Add the question mark to those statements and watch them transform:

      Vaccinations are meant to control people?

      Government serves people?

      There is only one true god?

      You must stick with one company to grow your career?

      You aren’t “qualified”?

      Tom Brady is the greatest quarterback of all time?

      See? Most people throw their beliefs at us to try to make it stick in our own mind. Adding the question mark is like spraying teflon on our skull, making us immune to questionable stories, and making us assess the validity of the feasible. Every statement above could be true, or complete bullshit, but we don’t really know which at face value. We must add the question mark, and in doing so, pause and assess the original statement. Or, for the truly outlandish, let it drift away.

      But Brady is definitely the GOAT. Right?

    • Sympathy With Intelligence

      “A man’s ignorance sometimes is not only useful, but beautiful—while his knowledge, so called, is oftentimes worse than useless, besides being ugly. Which is the best man to deal with—he who knows nothing about a subject, and, what is extremely rare, knows that he knows nothing, or he who really knows something about it, but thinks that he knows all? My desire for knowledge is intermittent, but my desire to bathe my head in atmospheres unknown to my feet is perennial and constant. The highest that we can attain to is not Knowledge, but Sympathy with Intelligence.” – Henry David Thoreau, Walking

      We arrive at a deeper understanding and empathy with the world by getting out into it. If there’s been a curse to the pandemic, it’s the distinct lack of getting out there to encounter a different perspective on things than you might have sheltered in place with your favorite sound bites and tweets.

      If the last 6-7 years were defined by anything, it’s this growing assurance that your side is right and any other is wrong. The world seemingly spiraled down into an antagonistic cesspool of us versus them. What’s missing is empathy: the putting ourselves in their shoes part. Seek first to understand and then to be understood, as Stephen Covey would have put it. He’d be shaking his head at the world we find ourselves in today.

      Getting out to meet the world is the solution to this problem. Seeing things the way they look from the other side offers perspective unavailable to those who don’t venture past the mailbox. The idea of getting out to see the world seems to be the most logical thing in the world to many of us, but fills others with dread. Would you live your life forever in a shell or break out of your limited view of the universe and see what’s really out there?

      This week I’m getting back out in the world, not for work, but for pleasure. To see things from a different vantage point, to seek the truth about how things are in a place other than here. To bathe my head in atmospheres unknown to my feet and return with a new perspective on this world. And then, boldly, to do it again.

    • Moments and Answers

      Aren’t there moments that are better than knowing something, and sweeter?

      At 4:30 in the morning, I realized I was unable to sleep any longer as I became increasingly aware of the fan tap-tap-tapping me to alertness. This wake-up hour is becoming a disturbing trend, and I fought it as long as I felt reasonable until I surrendered to the noise and got up well before the sun and read Mary Oliver’s poem Snowy Night, thinking it might draw me back to sleep.

      Just the opposite, it turned out. So I decided to make the most of the unexpected time awake and drove to the sea to catch the rising sun meet the falling tide. The hope was to let the waves sweep away this bout of restlessness.

      I love this world, but not for its answers.

      I don’t understand the draw of inland places. Sure, they’re nice to visit for awhile, but I couldn’t live there. I’ve come to rely on salt water too much to be that far away from it. It draws something out of you. If not always answers, well, maybe moments.

      This post may not have all the answers (does any?), but I’ve hung on to it all day. I’ll take this moment to click publish. Cheers.