Focus on what’s not said.
Irritation is a choice.
There are 100 reasons why I’m irritated, but the reality is that my brain is trying to find ways to feed the irritated feeling.
I’m on Abbot Kinney in The Almond Cow and there are so many things to judge (smugly) to feel superior. STFU.
Drink your almond milk latte. Listen to music. Work on your slides.
Now. Right now. Ain’t nothing to get irritated about right now. Stop feeding it.
Discussing the person who avoids reflection, she writes, ‘When such a man considers a goal or desire he wants to achieve, the first question in his mind is: “Can I do it?”—not “What is required to do it?”’ It’s a handy approach to keep at the forefront. When confronted with obstacles, we can first consider the conditions necessary to tackling them, not if we have the capacity to do so.
That is from Farnam Street, quoting Ayn Rand.
“Everywhere, at each moment, you have the option:
– to accept this event with humility
– to treat this person as he should be treated
– to approach this thought with care, so that nothing irrational creeps in.”
— Meditations: A New Translation (Modern Library) by Marcus Aurelius, 7:54.
. . . if it hasn’t been created yet.
And if you are the person creating, it doesn’t exist until you make it. Just focus on what you’re unique at. Ask questions you don’t know the answer to.
You can’t be copied. And you can’t copy who you were yesterday.
Start at the “5:00 left” mark. Listen for his action advice.
From the Scott Adams Periscope yesterday, talking about his workout routine. He concentrates on making it fun so he goes back the next day. A protein shake. Who knows what else.
Seems to me that all of my work on habits and achievement are . . . not emphasizing fun, to put it mildly. The Puritan Work Ethic at work, the John Calvin denial of earthly pleasures—those are my guideposts.
My business is not fun.
Fitness is not fun.
Time to re-listen to the Dan Sullivan podcast from yesterday. The tail end of it. The beginning is banal. The end part spoke to me.
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.
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.