You can do it

Not to assume it’s impossible because you find it hard. But to recognize that if it’s humanly possible, you can do it too.

Meditations, 6:19.

In my day job it finally dawned on me — 35+ years on — that the nemesis I wrestle with is constructed by mortals no smarter than me.

I thought there were world class puzzles that my brain strained to comprehend, and only after hours of confusion. Well, that happened. 😀 I have much to be humble about.

But the people who constructed the puzzles were and are my equal. There is no bureaucracy of brilliant Einsteins writing that stuff by straining I missed the obvious. It may also be my fascination with symbolic logic that leads me to assume greater complexity. Though I suspect that relearning the rigors of logic will lead me back to simplicity and clarity.

My problems are simpler than I imagine them to be.

And my peers, who seem to be so much more perceptive than me, are my equal, too. They struggle to solve the problems, too

Seemingly brilliant insights are probably achieved as I achieve them: 90% through hundreds of hours of concentration, sweat, frustration, and persistence. The other 90% is achieved thanks to the giants on whose shoulders I stand. They have graciously left behind their thoughts and understanding to help me.

Whether it is that 40 page 2010 article with 2 pages that gave me the critical insight I needed or the determination to go back once again to the basics and start at the beginning, this time determined to completely follow the trail until it ended . . . who knows. But I cracked the code. Metaphorically and literally.

Sebastian talks about harvesting. Time now for me to harvest the knowledge. And launch it into the world to help the future me, long after I’m out of the game.

The cool thing? The article that helped me went so far, but not quite far enough. He concluded that silence means no. Because of my fascination with logic, I know that silence (in that context) means “unknowable”. I added what I know to what was left behind for me.

And don’t get me started on Marcus Aurelius. The things he left behind, waiting for me to pick them up . . . .

And another thing. Capture this stuff when you can. This was written while wandering around the South Coast Plaza. Peace and clarity are everywhere—even in this Temple of Consumption.