This is my notebook, where I publish nascent ideas as part of my daily writing practice.
There’s a common trap that gets in the way of our natural abilities. That trap is to care too much about achieving an outcome.
This is something I experienced in my Alexander Technique lessons with Peter Nobes. He would throw me a ball and, like most humans who have ever played catch, it became important that I catch the ball. That led me to try to catch the ball, which looked like me coordinating myself somewhat awkwardly, probably dropping the ball, and looking sheepish and apologising when I did.
Contrast this to the other way I learned to catch a ball, which was to i) have a clear intention that I wanted to catch the ball, ii) not care if I did or didn’t, iii) watch as my hand reached out perfectly accurately and effortlessly on its own such that the ball just landed in it.
The second way is probably familiar to most people, but as a sort of rare, chance and fleeting “wow, I was really in the zone” experience.
What’s happening here is captured well in the Inner Game series of books by W. Timothy Gallwey. He describes two ‘selves’ within each of us:
The more Self 1 cares about achieving a goal, the more it interferes with the natural functioning of Self 2. This is why, counterintuitively, the less you care about something, the more easily, effortlessly and effectively it can be achieved.
This entire concept can be played with in all areas of life, and it’s interesting to see the areas where people are okay with it. Catching a ball with one other person, without an audience, in a non-competitive environment and as part of a training exercise seems to be fine. Not ‘caring’ about getting the girl of our dreams or delivering a great presentation at work, on the other and, can seem crazy, even though exactly the same principle applies.
Here I have to point out the difference between ‘not caring’ and ‘not intending’, because they are often conflated in day to day language.
Caring is as described above, and comes with a sense of the outcome being important, that it (or we) would bad if the outcome weren’t achieved. There is a physical tension associated with it.
Intending is the activation energy required to take a specific action. I can intend to catch the ball (or not) as it flies towards me, while not caring whether or not I actually catch it.
In this frame, the ideal combination to minimise or remove self-interference is to have a strong and unambiguous intention while caring as little as possible. The worst combination for our performance is to have a weak and ambiguous intention while caring strongly about achieving a particular outcome.
Now I will bring in playfulness, which I define as an attitude whereby we engage in an activity for its own sake. That sounds a lot like having clear intentions while not caring about achieving specific outcomes. Even in competition, it’s possible to maintain a position of “I want to win, but I don’t mind if I don’t”. That mental posture often brings about a sense of ease and lightness that unlock greater levels of performance that actually make winning more likely.
There’s a trap here, of course.
Thinking “it is important that I not care so that I play better” is caring. This is the trap that most people are stuck in. They know they are stuck, but their most powerful and practiced tool is to care and try, but all they end up doing is care and try in the opposite direction. This is the same exact thing that they are trying to escape.
Getting out of that trap is a discussion for another time. But you can read about it over in Expanding Awareness.
I made a video from this
The more comfortable I get being an 'online creator', the more I appreciate the different stages of production that each bit of 'content' represents (I don't like the word, but I'm not sure there is a better one yet).
I have a few channels for my writing now, and each one has a different vibe to it.
There are the two newsletters, where there are either c. 670 people or c. 1025 people, depending on the newsletter. These people get the newsletters in their inbox, which feels like a bit of an intrusion and so I'm grateful to them for letting me in. This context also makes me write in a certain kind of way. While I've managed to strike quite a conversational and exploratory tone — which I like and my subscribers seem to appreciate — I still find myself wanting more of a 'workshop' feel.
I also have Twitter, which is great for rapid fire ideas with very little thought behind them, just to see what lands. It's fun, and it is possible to go deep there, but it doesn't lend itself to considered prose.
And I have the 'essays' section of this website (I'm not sure what I think of "essays" — I might change it to blog or articles, essays feels a bit much). These are, in theory, highly polished pieces that are towards the end of my creative process, artefacts that try to capture and articulate the best of my thinking on a given topic. This is and should be a high bar.
As someone who aims to be a world class writer, I want to establish a consistent daily writing practice, where at the end of each session I have something that could in theory be shared, even if short and not completely thought through. These are the little things that will eventually become big things.
I could just do this in a private notebook, but there is something sensationally valuable about writing something with the intention of hitting publish and knowing that it could be read (hello). Having a place to put these things also encourages actually writing the things.
This is that place.
Oh, today I made and published a YouTube video. I've been getting stuck in thinking I need to make polished things, but I don't, actually. The long game I need to play for now is to get my Alexander Technique course in a good place, so YouTube needs to be low effort for a while.