Steve

The morning after Steve Jobs died, I was sitting at a traffic light, watching cars go by on the Berlin Turnpike.

I had woken up sad, with a feeling of “Oh no… that really happened.” I didn’t know I could feel such emotion over the death of a public figure, but then, it doesn’t seem to happen very often. I wasn’t even a thought in my parents’ minds when President Kennedy was assassinated. I wasn’t alive for Elvis or John Lennon. I thought Michael Jackson’s death was unfortunate, but I wasn’t close enough to his music to be affected in the way millions of others were.

But the morning after Steve Jobs died, I found myself wondering if those people in their cars knew what had happened. “Does that person know? Does that person? Or that person?” I wondered if they felt the way I did, or if they had just frowned and said, “That’s too bad” before going about their lives.

It’s weird when someone dies because everything still looks the same. If someone was looking down on Earth from space, nothing would appear out of the ordinary. They wouldn’t be able to tell that anything had happened. But today, you don’t need to go any further than Google’s homepage to realize that something is wrong. Someone is missing.

I’m a young member of the Apple community in the sense that I’ve only been cognizant of the company’s existence for maybe seven or eight years. I got my first iPod in high school, but I never used a Mac until I got to college. My university had outfitted all of us with Lenovo ThinkPads, so it wasn’t until I applied to Apple’s Campus Rep program that I received a glossy black MacBook and subsequently saw the light. I had to give that machine back when the program ended just a few months later, but I had already been converted. I received my first Mac, a 2009 15” MacBook Pro, as a graduation present, and it’s still my main machine today. Like so many others, I’ll never go back.

If you were to construct a pie chart of my identity, it would be composed of several things. One slice would be for karate. Another would be for music. Another would be for eastern philosophy. And another would be for Apple. Each one was added to the pie chart in a moment of discovery, when it changed my life and shaped who I am today. These moments are the foundation of my identity. The day my parents dragged me into a karate studio, which led to fifteen years in the martial arts as a student and instructor. The day I came home to find a Dave Matthews Band DVD playing through the home entertainment system, which led to an intense passion for good music and nearly ten years of learning how to play the bass guitar. The day my college philosophy professor walked into class and taught me that we aren’t just bags of skin, which began instilling the tenets of Buddhism and Taoism that continue to bring me comfort and inner peace on a daily basis.

Apple, too, changed my life. The day I opened up my first MacBook, I started to care about things I previously had no knowledge of. Things like design, typography, simplicity, and minimalism. Stuff like creating things that are insanely great. Paying attention to detail. How to give a great presentation. Making sure everything in my life contributes positively to it in some way. Eliminating things that don’t, things that have no meaning for me. Without Apple, I wouldn’t have discovered all of my favorite writers who inspire me every day. I wouldn’t know that computing can be a joyful experience. I wouldn’t know that no one needs permission to be awesome.

Steve Jobs’ spirit drives Apple, and it will continue to do so many years into the future. So, to say that Steve Jobs changed my life is not an exaggeration.

I can understand why some people don’t get it. For them, Steve Jobs was just a businessman, a CEO of a technology company. He made consumer electronics. I don’t ask anything of these people other than that they stay quiet for the people who do get it. For millions of nerds and geeks around the world, this is our Kennedy, our Elvis, our Lennon. It’s been said that Steve Jobs didn’t just create a company. He created a culture. For people who wanted to think different, and for people who cared about changing the world.

I use his creations every day. To communicate with friends and family. To make things I’m proud of, like this website. To learn and satisfy my curiosities about new things. To listen to music I’m obsessed with. Every day, Steve’s creations make my life easier, simpler, and more fun. They inspire me every time I pick one up. But most of all, they never fail to bring me joy.

So many great things have been written about Steve since Wednesday. My emotional blathering here is only a drop in the bucket, but I felt the need to say something. I can’t really express how thankful I am to be a part of this community, and I am proud to consider Apple a part of my identity. I have Steve to thank for that. While we never came close to meeting, I am privileged to have lived alongside him, on the same planet, at the same time. I will miss him, and I’ll continue to remember him in my quest to do great things.

Thank you, Steve, for showing us it’s possible to put a ding in the universe.

iPhone Expectations

In just a few minutes, Apple will begin its on-campus “Let’s Talk iPhone” event in Cupertino, CA.

Like all Apple product announcements, it’s a big day for nerds all over the world, but this one has a particularly high level of anticipation because it’s been almost seventeen months since the iPhone 4 was announced. Traditionally, Apple unveiled a new iPhone every year at WWDC, but this year’s conference was dedicated entirely to software: OS X Lion, iOS 5, and iCloud. There were no new hardware announcements. Thus, the Apple community has been starved for a new iPhone for longer than usual.

Notably, this will be the first product announcement with (presumably) Tim Cook at the helm as CEO. It’s also being held in Apple’s on-campus Town Hall auditorium, rather than at a huge convention center.

Rumors and speculation about new products is part of Apple fan culture. It’s fun and exciting, because Apple’s products mean a lot to people in ways that other phones, computers, music players, and software don’t. It’s easy to get caught up in the hype.

As Stephen M. Hackett wrote in his article, “On Expectations and New iPhones”, it’s important to recognize the value of managing your expectations and not letting them run too wild.

Some of this year’s rumors include multiple iPhone models, improved voice control, a faster A5 processor, 4G compatibility, and so on. With all the speculation flying around, people become increasingly vulnerable to disappointment. If you’re really looking forward to one special feature, and Apple doesn’t include it, you’re going to feel like a sad trombone.

The better strategy is to look forward to the announcement, knowing that this new iPhone, whether it’s a 4S or a 5, will be a great device. It has to be, or Apple wouldn’t release it. However, the only certainty is that it will be better than the iPhone 4. How much better will be the subject of debate for the next few weeks. Since we’ve had to wait an extra long time, there’s an additional expectation that this new iPhone needs to be leaps and bounds better than the iPhone 4. It doesn’t. The iPhone 4 is still a tremendous success today, seventeen months later.

Apple itself seems to be downplaying today’s event. The press invitation for the announcement suggests there will only be one new iPhone announced. The event is being held at a much smaller and intimate venue. The event’s tagline, “Let’s Talk iPhone”, suggests that that will be the singular focus.

That’s good strategy. It’s all about managing expectations. It’s much easier to under-promise and over-deliver than it is to set a bar so high that it becomes unreachable.

For me, even if the new iPhone only features the A5 chip and an improved camera, it’s still an exciting day to be an Apple nerd. I’m not due for an upgrade until February, so I probably won’t own this generation of iPhone. That’s fine, because I’m still perfectly happy with my iPhone 4, and I’ll get to enjoy the iPhone 6 when it’s announced next year. I’m not saying I won’t be drooling over whatever gets announced today, because I almost certainly will, but I like to keep things in perspective.

Whatever gets announced today, just remember that we’re lucky to have a company that produces such consistently fantastic products at such consistently reliable intervals. No matter what happens, it’s a great day to be part of the Apple community.

On Caffeine & Alcohol

The other day, a friend asked me how my fondness for simplicity and minimalism affects my stance on things like caffeine and alcohol. Good question.

I don’t partake in either. Obviously, the two substances aren’t synonymous, but my reasons for abstaining apply to both.

1. Consumption. A central focus of minimalism is to break free from the bonds of our material-oriented, advertising-driven society. Minimalism is built on the concepts of less and enough. The goal is to stop consuming things you don’t need. This includes making unnecessary purchases and eating unhealthy foods just because a television commercial says you should. Consuming less frees you to do other things. Consuming less also helps you save money, and I would hate to make a habit of spending $4 at Starbucks every day or however many dollars at the liquor store every weekend. Water satiates all of my liquid-consuming needs, and it’s free.

2. Dependence. I never want to be in a situation where I need caffeine or alcohol to function properly. I never want to be one of those people who is “useless until I’ve had my coffee”. I don’t want to have to have a drink to become the life of the party, if I was actually interested in being that person. Dependence is limiting. By not needing these things, I become a little more free, and my life is a little bit simpler.

3. Health. This post isn’t meant to be a self-righteous indictment of people who enjoy caffeinated or alcoholic beverages. If it was, I’d have no friends. Clearly, there are appropriate ways to enjoy these things, i.e. in moderation. Several health-related websites I follow actually advocate caffeine for its purported health benefits, and you can find plenty of articles discussing the benefits of a glass of red wine with dinner. For my part, I certainly do enjoy a cup of tea once or twice a week. Alcohol, on the other hand, is poisonous to the human body, but I can understand how some people enjoy its effects, taste, or other properties. Being healthy in today’s society is challenging enough, though, and I’d rather avoid the added difficulty altogether.

4. Personal. Coffee smells delicious, but most of that stuff is disgusting. I make no apologies for this position. As for alcohol, I’ve just never seen the point, for all the above reasons. I’m not a party-goer, so I don’t need the boost in social skills. I can’t speak for taste, but most of it doesn’t smell good. The concept of being drunk holds no appeal to me because I can’t possibly fathom how you would want to voluntarily give up control of the one thing you actually have control over, which is your mind. Plus, my dad’s been a recovering alcoholic for many, many years, and since I’m a lot like him, I feel its best to follow his example and avoid any alcoholism in my family’s history entirely.

I think that sums it up. Again, these are just my opinions, and I encourage you to do what works for you.

Coincidentally, Ev Bogue just posted about why he untethered from alcohol. It’s a good read.

Three Entities

I’ve never been one to say, “There just aren’t enough hours in the day!”, but lately, it’s all I can think about.

Yesterday, I posted links to three great articles around the web. That’s it: just the three links. Barely a word of commentary. I felt conflicted about that because, while I enjoy linking and responding to posts from other writers, I want to maintain a balance between link posts and original articles. That’s not to discredit the three articles I linked to; they were all tremendous, which is why I recommended you read them. But since this site is so young, I’m concerned with establishing it as a serious, professional creative endeavor. I don’t just want to post links and call it a day. That makes me feel guilty, and even though this site is a labor of love and shouldn’t contribute additional worries to my life, it’s the fact that I care about it so much that makes only posting three links weigh on my conscience. When I can’t put 100% of myself into this website and make it as good as I want it to be, I get bummed out.

I’m in a tough position right now because three entities are competing for my time and attention. One of them is this website. Another is karate. I have three hours of workout + meeting twice a week and classes to teach in the evenings. I love and need the workouts, but on days like today, when I get home at 1pm and only have two hours to shower, eat, post something to the site, and make it to work on time, it can be frustrating. Especially when I read a handful of great, exciting articles like I did yesterday, and I wish I had time to sit and write some of my own. But the reality is, this site is not my full-time job, so sometimes, a link will have to do.

Chris Guillebeau posted an article called How to Write 300,000 Words In 1 Year yesterday, and this part really stuck with me:

Someone once said, “I hate writing, but I love having written.” I tend to think you have to love at least some of the writing part too, but I get the idea. In my case, I write because it makes me feel good, and because I feel like it’s what I’m supposed to do.

If you want to write consistently and thoroughly, you must learn to make writing your job, regardless of whether it has anything to do with your income. It must be what you think of at different times throughout the day, even when you’re doing other things.

Those sentences resonate with me because they’re exactly what I’ve been feeling every time I’ve had to tear myself away from the computer to go to work. I think about the site on the way to work, in between classes, and on my way home. It’s incredibly exciting to feel that way about a creative project, but it’s also frustrating because I’m not yet at a point where I can act on them to the degree I’d like. Plus, since the site has nothing to do with my income, the responsible thing to do, unfortunately, is make it the first thing to go on the back burner.

The third entity demanding my time and attention is my thesis on Middle English lyric poetry, which is the last thing separating me from my master’s degree. It’s also the last thing tying me to academia. Now, I love being an academic, and it’s been a huge part of my identity for the past 24 years, but I’m ready to take a break and pursue writing in a different medium, namely this website.

Having a massive paper on Middle English lyric poetry due is a drag, but alas, the system demands it, and so it must be done. Since starting my thesis earlier this year, I have approximately 14,000 words of stuff written on a handful of poems, but those thousands of words lack any unifying structure or argument. That, too, is a drag. Having a thesis hanging over your head makes it very difficult to write for your silly website and not feel at least a slight twinge of guilt.

Fortunately, I have one hell of a thesis advisor. As he says, “Don’t get it right; get it done.”, which seems paradoxical coming from an English professor, but the notion that a thesis has to be some terrifying behemoth is mostly unnecessary. If I think about how I need at least fifty pages of groundbreaking analysis on 500-year-old poetry, I’ll become paralyzed with fear. Where would I even start? Rather, all I really need is five pages of introduction, five pages of conclusion, and five pages each about eight different lyrics. I’ve been writing five page papers for most of my life. That’s the bulk of the dirty work. A unifying thread will present itself naturally. When you put it in perspective, a thesis is suddenly not so intimidating. I don’t need to agonize and slave over it for months and months. It’s just a big paper. That’s not to undermine the endeavor, but rather to turn an abstract horror into a manageable assignment.

I can do it, and it will get done, but fifty pages is fifty pages, and with deadlines looming, it’s another thing distracting me from what I’d really love to be doing, which is writing this website. I know: life is tough, get a helmet, and all that, but I don’t believe life needs to be filled with things we don’t want to do. Some things, sure, but not most things. There’s only a finite amount of space in your head, and the more things that reside there, the less attention each receives. But, the only way out is through, as they say.

It’s fascinating how issues I’m wrestling with in my head also tend to bubble up in discussion on the internet, seemingly by coincidence. As I was taking a break from writing this article, I was finishing the latest episode of The B&B Podcast. Shawn Blanc just happened to bring up the topic of self-imposed urgency in maintaining his website, which he writes full-time.

It’s a self-imposed urgency. It’s self-imposed responsibility. You know, because I’ve been thinking about this a lot for the past six months now that I write my site full-time. And… you know what? I’m going to show up to work every day, I’m going to work hard, I’m going to do my best, I’m going to try to write as well as I can, and as regularly as I can. And sometimes that only equates to two or three links a day. And you know what? So what? That is me working. Because there’s a lot that goes on behind the scenes behind that.

The thing is, Shawn and his wife are expecting, and here I am bumming out about balancing work, school, and writing. But he’s totally right. The only person pressuring me to post every day is me. Would I love to write 1,000 words a day for this site? Of course. But sometimes other things will need to take precedence, and the site will still be here tomorrow.

So, today I’ve woken up early to write five pages on Fowles In the Frith, and during that time I won’t be able to give this website any attention. But the sooner I get those five pages done, the sooner I’ll be able to post something here guilt-free. The sooner my thesis is done, the sooner I’ll be able to pour myself even further into QLE. I’m not excusing what will probably be a dearth of long-form content over the next few months, but I am asking you to bear with me. Before long, I’ll have found some more hours in the day.

The Fear of Being Wrong

Randy Murray thinks you’re probably wrong about that:

I judge people, but not on the current state of their knowledge. I judge them on their willingness to learn, to think, and to change what they believe to be true. I think that is the fundamental philosophic difference between the scientist and the believer. The scientist should always be willing to say, “based upon new information I am willing to re-evaluate.” The believer often shuns information that contradicts what they “know.”

It’s a thoughtful piece, and it makes a good companion to my article, The Man Who Knows Nothing. In that post, I explained how adopting the know-nothing principle is not a matter of playing dumb. Rather, it’s a way to avoid being so attached to your ideas that you fear being proven wrong and subsequently become unreceptive to new information. As Randy puts it, you become a believer rather a scientist.

If you can eliminate that fear, whether it’s by being willing to change your opinion or by adopting the know-nothing principle, you’ll actually learn and grow much more quickly. In both cases, you become more receptive to opinions different from your own. This open-mindedness is inherently beneficial because, even if you don’t know for certain which answer is the right one, simply being aware of different viewpoints will enable you to both be more knowledgeable about the topic and to better formulate your own opinion.

When your mind is open, you become less afraid of being wrong. You become less defensive about your ideas, and thus you become more calm and relaxed. By being open-minded, you free yourself from the risk of having your inner peace disrupted by someone who thinks differently than you.

Eliminate Unnecessary People

John Lilly:

One of the best pieces of advice I ever got, back when I was 23 and newly out of school, is this: look around and figure out who you want to be on your team. Figure out the people around you that you want to work with for the rest of your life. Figure out the people who are smart & awesome, who share your values, who get things done — and maybe most important, who you like to be with and who you want to help win. And treat them right, always. Look for ways to help, to work together, to learn. Because in 20 years you’ll all be in amazing places doing amazing things.

A central tenet of minimalism is eliminating unnecessary things. You can apply this principle to virtually anything, including relationships. It may sound cold, but there’s simply no reason to waste time and energy maintaining a relationship that contributes nothing of value to your day.

Of course, some relationships are unavoidable, so it’s also possible that you might need to minimize a relationship to only its essential aspects. My roommate freshman year, for example, was absolutely nothing like me and had little to offer besides copious amounts of alcohol and chicks, bro, chicks. I’m sure he had similar feelings about me. Requesting to switch rooms was probably an option, but rather than go through all that hassle, we opted to peacefully coexist instead. We didn’t have to hang out all the time just because the university decided to pair us up; we just had to sleep in the same room and not kill each other. When the year ended, we went our separate ways, save for the occasional, “Hey man, how’s it going?” in the cafeteria line.

Now obviously, human relationships are enormously complex, and I don’t mean to undermine them. But it’s important to remember that, even though this is the Age of Facebook, you don’t have to be friends with everybody. It’s alright to let someone go when your relationship has run its course. It’s not about being a cold-hearted jerk, it’s about accepting the fact that not everyone needs or even deserves a place on your team. There’s no need to feel guilty about it because you’re freeing yourself to focus on those who matter most.

Different personalities have different needs, and some may enjoy the challenge of keeping up 500 friendships. In that case, by all means do what makes you happy. For me, though, relationships are one of the foremost examples of quality beating quantity every time.

Via MG Siegler

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The Long Winters

It’s 49 degrees here at one o’clock in the morning, and I’m sitting in my car outside my house because I don’t want to stop listening to this album.

Something like four years ago, one of my good college friends gave me an album by a band called The Long Winters. I never really got around to listening to it. It stayed on my iPod for a long time and even survived the great iTunes purge, but otherwise, I hardly gave it a second thought.

As fate would have it, here in the present day, Merlin Mann, one of my Internet heroes, has a new podcast with John Roderick, who just happens to be the frontman of The Long Winters, which just happens to be the band whose album my friend gave me four years ago. When I found myself enjoying what this John Roderick character had to say, I thought it might be worthwhile to finally check out his band. Fortunately, their latest album was already in my iTunes library, where it had been patiently waiting for the past four years.

Let me point out that two of my favorite bands of all time put out new records this week, and yet neither have garnered the emotional response I’ve experienced because of this five year old album by The Long Winters. It’s remarkable.

Sometimes, a piece of music changes your life in an instant, whether it’s your first or hundredth listen. It hits you at exactly the right moment, when your surroundings, your mood, your thoughts, and everything in life is captured perfectly within the song. It creates one of those sensory memories that gets burned into your brain and transports you back to that moment whenever you hear that song again. You’re able to remember exactly how you were feeling, what you were thinking, and how crisp the autumn air smelled as you drove around on empty midnight roads with the windows down, listening to the music. It’s a feeling I can only describe as euphoric.

It’s amazing how one moment can affect you so profoundly, even four years later. Had I not received this particular album from my friend way back when, I might have still discovered the band, but I also might have bought a different album, or I might have pressed play at a different moment, one devoid of the unique circumstances contributing to this emotional experience.

This music is exactly what I need in this moment. It’s the perfect soundtrack to all of my present hopes and fears. Maybe it’s the intoxicating 49 degree air, or the romantic after-midnight hour talking, but this perfect storm of music, mood, and season have filled me with an incredible sense of joy. I don’t even want to get out of my car for fear of stopping the music and breaking the spell.

I know when I wake up tomorrow morning, it’ll be just another Monday. This comforting euphoria will be gone, but at least I’ll still have this album. All the memories associated with its discovery here, in this moment, will last for years to come, and I look forward to reliving that moment over the course of many future listens.

The Evil of Numbers

They’re everywhere: on the cover of every magazine, on the sign for every gas station, on the face of every clock.

As a student of English, I always had an inherent disdain for any subject dealing with numbers: math, chemistry, physics, etc. Hence, my C in 9th grade geometry. It was a dark time.

As I progressed through my collegiate career, I was privileged to deal with numbers less frequently and to be surrounded by people who shared my sentiments. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that numbers are one of the principal roots of all evil.

That seems like a pretty bold claim, of course, but I’m not talking about scary, fire and brimstone, universal type of evil. Rather, numbers are one of the biggest offenders when it comes to things that disturb our inner peace.

If you think about it, most common sources of stress are directly or indirectly associated with numbers:

• We stress about grades.
• We stress about our age.
• We stress about our weight.
• We stress about money.
• We stress about not having enough time.

All of these examples focus on numbers. Why? What’s a number anyway, and how can we break free from them?

According to a general definition, a number is “a mathematical object used in counting and measuring”. Obviously, anything with the word “mathematical” in it raises a red flag, but beyond that, counting and measuring are activities solely attributed to humans on this planet. That is, numbers were created by, and only exist because of, the human race. They are entirely manmade. Numbers are a system put in place to help us control our lives and assert our importance in the universe.

You need good grades so you can make a lot of money. You need a lot of money so you can buy a big house and fill it with stuff. You need to maintain a certain weight so society will find you attractive. You need to rush to school and work so you’ll be on time. You need to act your age.

All of these needs are constructs that we as a species have decided to enforce upon ourselves. As a result, we have become slaves to numbers.

So, what to do? Obviously, numbers aren’t going anywhere, and trying to live without them would be absurd. Good grades, a healthy weight, and income to live on are important. We do need numbers, for better or worse.

However, we do not need to allow numbers to control us. We can’t get rid of them, but we can change the way we think about them. They’re just numbers.

A grade is just a number. It does not define who you are as a person. Doing your best is what defines you.

Eating well is important, but it’s not healthy to stress over every tiny fluctuation on the bathroom scale.

We should act our age most of the time, but we can’t forget how to play.

Stop. Rushing. Wherever you’re going will still be there when you arrive.

It’s just money. That statement is going to offend some of you, but even if you don’t have a single cent to your name, you’re still going to be able to wake up in the morning and breathe fresh air. You’re not going to die. There’s comfort in that way of thinking.

Speaking of having no money, I’d like to give some credit to the number zero. Yes, literally having $0.00 in the bank would be stressful, as some of us know, but imagine if there was no money at all — in the world. How much more relaxed would life be if money didn’t exist? How much more relaxed would you be if you didn’t have a clock strapped to your wrist telling you where you were supposed to be all the time? Wouldn’t it be nice to identify yourself by how old you feel?

Zero can be considered the absence of numbers. Zero is simplicity. Zero is inner peace. When your inbox is empty, you feel calm. When your desk is free of clutter, you feel relaxed. When your head is emptied of all worries, life is good.

Since numbers are here to stay, try seeing them for what they are: just a little made-up invention to help us control our world. We can’t get rid of numbers, but we can change how we think about them, and subsequently, be a little less stressed.

Control the numbers; don’t let them control you. They’re just numbers.

Launch

I’ve been writing this site for 51 days now. It’s been an awesome and very fulfilling project, even though I haven’t told anyone about it. Now that the time has come to reveal it to the entire internet, I’ll admit that I’m a little nervous about doing so. I feel afraid, but it’s a fear that’s also strangely familiar.

You see, while I’ve only been writing the site for a couple of months, I had the idea years before that. At the time, I was working in an office and just starting my master’s program. While I found most aspects of office life utterly soul-crushing, my time in the cubicle did help me realize two important things.

The first was that I hated the routine of waking up early, driving to the same building, sitting for eight hours, and then driving back home to sleep and repeat. Every day. I found it exhausting and depressing. Some people don’t mind the routine, and some have decided to accept it, but for better or worse, after two years, I decided it just wasn’t me.

The second thing I learned was that there are amazing people on the internet. Brilliant writers and designers and programmers. People who make great things and are passionate about doing so. You might call them artists.

And as I sat in that cubicle with my almost-two very expensive English degrees, and nothing but a terrifying job market waiting outside, I thought, “Hmm. I’d really like to do something like that. To be one of those people.”

While these thoughts were taking shape, I was coerced into giving a presentation at my university’s Student Leadership Retreat. I wasn’t keen on the idea, because I knew little about how to fill out payment request forms, or what goes into drafting a constitution for your club or organization. Fortunately, plenty of other people did. I, on the other hand, wasn’t sure what I had to offer.

Since personal development was one of the presentation categories, I decided to create and give a talk called “Simple Happiness”, which was about using simplicity and minimalism to lead a calmer, more productive, and happier life as a college student. To my surprise, it was very well-received, and I got several generous reviews from students and faculty. I was even asked to give the presentation twice more: once for the Honors College, and again at the following year’s Leadership Retreat.

The success of my presentation indicated that there was a market for this type of discussion, and while minimalism blogs were a dime-a-dozen at the time, I thought I might have some worthwhile things to say if I ever had my own website. The more I thought about it, the more grandiose the daydreams became, and the more excited I got about the idea. But the problem was, it was just an idea. An idea that remained a daydream month after month.

The barrier, of course, was fear. Fear of starting something new. Fear of failure. Fear of success. Fear of change, really. I was comfortable with my amazing dream website, and all the groundbreaking articles I would write, and the impressive readership I would amass… someday. Dreaming about it was fun and exciting, and it was safe.

To make an increasingly long story shorter, I dreamed about it until July of this year. I had been “designing” (read: fiddling with) a page for a few weeks, thinking, “As soon as I find the right colors, I’ll start writing.” Or the right font. Or the right column width. Or the right name. Obviously, that’s no way to get any real work done, so I finally decided, quite spontaneously, to write one tiny little post and click submit.

Nothing bad happened.

Nothing really happened at all, other than some words appearing on the page. And I found myself thinking, “That actually doesn’t look terrible… Maybe I’ll post something else.”

Coincidentally, on a then-recent episode of Back to Work, Merlin Mann advised anyone thinking about starting a website to do it privately for thirty days. Post something every day, but don’t show it to anybody. That way, you can see if it’s really something you want to do. So, starting that day, I did, and it was great. I loved it. I still do.

All that daydreaming and fear of starting was a barrier, which caused me to procrastinate and not move any closer to my goal. I finally broke through it, and now, 51 days later, a similar situation is presenting itself.

For the past two months, I’ve been writing consistently and loving it. You know how they say, “Dance like nobody’s watching”? Well, I’ve been writing like nobody’s reading. And let me tell you: it works! I actually have a website now, and there’s actually a lot of pretty good, not terrible stuff on it. But just as I couldn’t daydream forever, I can’t write in secret forever. Not with the dreams I have of becoming a full-time independent writer.

So, like every movie when the second-in-command guy pressures the President to make the controversial next move, the time has come! “We must launch.”

As I’m sure to find out, nothing bad is going to happen. One day people won’t know about the site, and the next day they will. One of the great things about writing privately for thirty days is that I know I can do this regardless of whether or not anyone’s reading. Sure, now I’m going to be vulnerable to criticism, but that’s the only way to get better. What’s the worst thing that could happen? If no one decides to read, then I’m no worse off than I was for the past two months. If a bunch of people decide to read, and they all hate it and think I’m an idiot, well… alright then. I’ll try to fix it. They can’t eat me.

In any case, when it comes to barriers, the best way out is through.

The next 51 days start in 3… 2… 1…

The Simplicity of Self

I love this idea of Triangular Focus by Everett Bogue:

These three things are important to me:

1. Writing (and publishing)
2. Yoga
3. Eating (well)

[…]

Whenever I’m presented with something outside these three, I have to ask myself: does this take me towards these goals, or away from them?

I talk about simplicity a lot on this website, but Everett’s point is one that’s often overlooked. I think of it as the simplicity of self.

Just as it’s impossible to read everything, to see everything, to do everything, it’s also impossible to be everything.

Everett has identified the three things most important to him, and as a result, he can pour himself completely into each of them.

When I was little, I wanted to be an archaeologist. Then, I wanted to be a karate instructor. Then, I wanted to be a famous bass player. Then, I wanted to be a student affairs professional. Now, I want to be a writer. It’s natural for these dreams to change over time, but eventually I have to figure out what’s going to define me for the rest of my life. What do I care about most?

I would still love to be a famous bass player, but I’ve started to accept that that’s not likely to happen anytime soon. That’s not to say it couldn’t happen, of course. If I really set my mind to it and put the hours in, I could probably make it happen. So, perhaps more accurately, I’ve decided not to become a famous bass player. Luckily, that doesn’t mean I have to give up bass playing. In fact, I still play every day. Bass will always be a passion of mine, but it’s one that’s been relegated to a lifelong hobby, rather than a potential career path.

Being everything at once is like trying to be everywhere at once; it’s exhausting and, ultimately, impossible. Think of it as quality versus quantity. Do I want to be a decent bass player, and a passable writer, and a part-time karate instructor all in one? Or would I rather spend my time and energy focusing on being the best I can possibly be at one important thing?

The more identities you have, the less attention each receives. It’s like being involved in seven different clubs in school. Can you become, say, president of all seven clubs and still perform to the best of your ability at all times? I’m sure that sounds doable for some people, and I commend these individuals for their ambition and superhuman abilities.

But for me, I’d rather live a calmer and more focused life. Looking at Everett’s three things, I see they’re not much different than my own: writing, exercise, and diet. These are the things I care about.

If, at this time in my life, my day consisted of eating well, exercising, and writing about things I love on this website, I don’t think I’d be able to imagine a better existence.

The Importance of Mindless Activities

I spent the majority of Labor Day weekend home alone, camped out on my couch, playing an old video game from my childhood.

This was an odd occurrence, as I don’t do much video gaming anymore, but the urge to go back to the nostalgic pastime of my youth was unusually strong. I had just finished working a couple of six-day weeks, and I’d been putting a lot of time and effort into building this site for more than a month straight. I was tired.

At first, I felt a guilty about spending a long weekend inside, glued to a television screen. I thought, “I should go running,” or “I should write something new,” or any number of other more productive activities.

But then I realized that time off is a good thing. Joshua Becker, of Becoming Minimalist, just wrote a post about the underappreciation of rest in today’s society:

Rest has become confused with laziness. We live in a society that praises those who work 60hrs/week and makes faulty assumptions about those who work 40. We have confused rest with laziness. And while too much rest may indeed be an indicator of sloth, the regular practice of finding rest is not.

Sometimes, you need to do something mindless. It lets your mind and body recharge and recuperate so that you’re better prepared for what comes next. There’s no reason to feel guilty about not going to the gym once in a while. Your muscles — physical and mental — need time to recover. Forcing additional work from them when you’ve got nothing left in the tank will only run yourself into the ground, and then you’ll miss several days due to illness or injury.

When I was working in a cubicle and sitting at a desk for eight hours a day, I was exhausted. I’d wake up, drive 45 minutes to a building, sit there all day, go to class, and then drive 45 minutes home. Add in homework and finding time to sleep and exercise, and things weren’t all that enjoyable. I’d daydream about all the things I’d do once the weekend finally arrived and I had some time to myself. But when the weekend finally did show up, I didn’t do anything. I’d just spend it screwing around on the computer, not getting anything done that I’d wanted to. I was too tired to do anything but sit.

This is why the occasional mindless activity is so important. If you work too hard for too long, you get burned out, which can be depressing and actually make you sick. That’s your body forcing you to rest. When you take a rest voluntarily, be it with video games, or reading a book, or taking a walk, your mind and body get a chance to regain their strength. Once you’ve gotten enough rest, once you’ve done nothing for a while, you actually regain the drive and motivation to do things naturally, without having to force it.

After I finished my coursework for my master’s degree, I spent all of June and most of July doing a whole lot of nothing. I worked at my usual summer job, but otherwise I spent my time relaxing. Once I had gotten enough rest, I found that I wanted to start doing something, to start creating something, which turned into this website. If I hadn’t had that time to decompress and get back to neutral, I may not have created QLE. So those two months weren’t full of laziness, they were full of necessary rest, which gave me the strength to create something new.

So, don’t feel guilty about doing nothing once in a while, whatever your version of nothing may be. The gym will still be there tomorrow, and you’ll be able to hit it twice as hard. If we never stopped to rest, we’d still be doing everything we ever started, and that’s no way to get anything done.

Getting Better All the Time

Richard J. Anderson, in his essay, “On Doing Less, Better”:

How do I become better? The perfect may be the enemy of the good, as Voltaire claims, but how can one reach perfect without at least churning out a lot of good, mediocre, or downright awful things?

In my response to one of Richard’s previous essays, I stated that perfection is unattainable, which I still believe. Even if it is attainable, I think it’s such a remote possibility that the pursuit of it would only lead to discouragement. Or insanity.

The pursuit of getting better is much more realistic and accessible. Getting better at what you do is more sensible than trying to be perfect at it.

I want to be a better writer.

What does that mean? Writing better sentences? Having better ideas? Getting better recognition? I think yes to all three.

Whatever you want to get better at — writing, gymnastics, architecture, being a person, — knowing what constitutes that version of yourself is important.

But once the “what” is established, the question becomes, “How do I get there?”

I want to be taken seriously as a writer, and I want this website to be seen as professional. Now, maybe that’s because the site is young, and I feel like I have something to prove, which is probably true. Can I write something besides an academic essay and make it worthwhile? I don’t want to be another twenty-something with a Blogger account writing about my bad day.

I love writing this website, and I feel a great deal of pride for what gets posted here. I don’t know if it’s any good, but I’m proud of it. Proud enough to put my name at the top.

I want to make it better, and I want to write more, but as Richard hints at in his essay, it’s hard finding time for your passions in a world full of obligations. I’m trying to find a job, and a place to live, and time to exercise, and (don’t tell anyone) I have a thesis to write on Middle English lyric poetry. All while working and hopefully getting a good night’s sleep. Finding the time to write is a challenge in itself, and making actual writing come out is an even greater struggle.

But it’s the only way to get better.

How am I going to become a better writer if I don’t write? Thinking and daydreaming is nice, but it’s not the answer. No matter how many karate books you read, you won’t be a black belt until you put on a gi and get in the dojo. And even then, you’ve only just set foot on a path to a goal far off on the horizon.

But the thing is, every step forward brings you closer to that horizon. To be a better writer, I have to write. Every day. On some days, only crap will come out, and in the beginning, the crappy days will probably come one after another. Eventually, though, they’ll grow fewer and farther between. Or maybe they won’t, but the odds are much better than if I don’t write at all.

Perfection has a sense of finality to it. It’s an end result. Once you become a perfect writer, what’s the point in continuing to write? But the road to getting better is endless. You can always get better.

Richard:

What good is being done with something if you can’t look at it and say that, “Yes, that was worth the effort. That was me doing my best. Now, let me try to do even better.”

Right. That’s why I love golf. You’re never a perfect golfer; it’s something you can work on your whole life, if you wish. You don’t have to stop at a certain age, or when you graduate from school. The same goes for writing. You’re never done with getting better. That’s not depressing; it’s inspiring. If I write every day for 365 days, how much better will I be in a year? In five years? In ten?

Richard concludes:

What matters is doing the thing that inspires me, that makes me happy, that leaves me with a sense of pride, and that’s writing good stuff.

Writing this site inspires me, and it makes me happy and proud. I don’t know if it’s any good, but at the very least, I feel like I’m getting better. My chances of becoming a better writer are much greater now than if I was lying on the couch thinking about all the great essays I’ll write someday. As long as I don’t give up, I won’t be any worse of a writer. The more I write, the greater the chance something pretty good might come out. I like my odds.

Step Off, Step On

Yesterday, my family made pizza on the grill for Labor Day. I wasn’t thrilled.

When I was younger, I had a long period when I actually didn’t like pizza. I know: what self-respecting kid doesn’t like pizza? I wasn’t an overly health-conscious adolescent or anything, but something about it didn’t sit right with me. Maybe it was the scalding hot tomato sauce, which to this day never fails to burn my mouth, or the abrasive crust, or the guaranteed messy fingers afterward.

Whatever the reason, I did eventually overcome my fears and learn to enjoy pizza. I still do, but yesterday’s feast was a struggle for me, and it led to me thinking about the issue of exceptions and how to make them effectively.

First, a little background…

A couple of years ago, I broke up with my then-girlfriend and found myself with considerably more free time on my hands. Up to that point, I had been adverse to any kind of healthy diet. I just didn’t feel inclined to suffer through eating grass and tree bark. I wasn’t even overweight, although I probably could have been considered skinny-fat.

But in that post-breakup moment, wherein I needed something new to focus on, I decided that the past 22 years of eating garbage had run their course, and it was time to get down to business. So, I started trying to eat healthier and exercise on a more frequent basis. I scoured the internet and found a solution that made sense to me and seemed like a sustainable lifestyle.

It took me close to two years to fully assimilate to my new and improved way of life. During that transition period, being consistently healthy was a struggle. You never really realize how unhealthy society is until you try to break free from it. Junk food is everywhere. Friends want to go out to dinner. People bring trays of cupcakes into the office for literally no reason. And sometimes, your mind just convinces yourself that one little bite is okay, even when it turns into twenty.

I stuck with it though, and now I’m at a point where I actually enjoy eating healthy more than eating junk food. It’s still tough sometimes, but on most days, I have no trouble avoiding cookies or turning down cupcakes. Even though they’re everywhere.

Now, back to my mention of exceptions.

Some members of my family, who don’t adhere to my personal health philosophy, have a hard time understanding the parts that seem controversial by conventional wisdom’s standards. I understand this difficulty because I would have felt the same way two years ago.

So, I was informed in advance that we were having pizza for Labor Day, and there was, essentially, nothing I could do about it. At first, I said I would eat beforehand and then come over, but I was told we were having guests, and that would be rude. My mom asked, “Can’t you just make an exception this one time?”

Of course I could. Did I want to? Absolutely not.

I know how I feel after an off-day of eating. It bums me out. It feels like all progress up to that point has been shot to hell. It feels unfair that I should have to sacrifice for others’ unhealthy habits. Did I have missteps once in a while? Obviously, but I would rather save those for instances when I had absolutely no control over the situation. If there was a way to avoid a misstep, why would I voluntarily choose not to take it?

Well, to make an increasing long story short, sometimes you just have to bite the bullet. I understand manners, and sometimes there’s no point in creating an unnecessary argument. Sometimes, you just have to eat pizza.

So, I ate the pizza, but I also managed to enjoy it by altering my perspective so that it wouldn’t bum me out too badly. Here’s how:

First, one cheat meal is better than an entire cheat day. People like to have a Pop-Tart for breakfast and say, “Welp, the day’s shot. Might as well start over tomorrow.” That attitude is detrimental and does more harm to your goal than need be. In the grand scheme of things, one cheat meal is only a blip on the radar, and it won’t undo months of progress. Several cheat days, however, will take much longer to recover from.

Second, I still had a great deal of control even though I was giving in to the pizza gods. I ate healthy all day so I wouldn’t be starving at pizza time, which would have caused me to overeat. I tried each kind of pizza, but I didn’t scarf down enough slices to make me uncomfortably full afterward. You don’t always have to kill yourself on an off day.

Third, and perhaps most importantly, after dinner, I went right back to my old habits. The path is always there, waiting for you to step back on. I didn’t think, “Oh, the day is ruined!” and stay up all night eating cookies and ice cream. One misstep doesn’t have to lead off a cliff. I stepped off the path, then course-corrected and stepped back on. Nothing worth agonizing over.

This is the mindset that has been most effective for helping me deal with those inevitable exceptions to my rules. I think it works for me because I’ve been trying to adhere to this lifestyle for so long that exceptions themselves have become unwanted. People who are just starting out, who haven’t fully transitioned and possibly don’t even enjoy what they’re trying to achieve, often want to cheat. They want and look for excuses to make exceptions.

The strategies above are not excuses for stepping off the path; they are mental adjustments for coping with stepping off the path when you wish you didn’t have to. The smaller the step off, the smaller the step to get back on.

Really Simple Discipline

Happy Labor Day!

This weekend, there was a bit of an uproar over RSS and its ability to overload the user with information. The discussion was catalyzed by Jacqui Cheng at Ars Technica, who wrote about why RSS is poisonous to productivity and sanity. (Via Forkbombr)

The headline is melodramatic, of course, but the concern is valid. She writes:

The Internet echo chamber is most apparent in RSS—mildly amusing items multiply across friends’ Tumblrs like rabbits on crack, and controversial items seem to invite commentary from every single person (and possibly some cats) who has access to a keyboard. This is, of course, one of the great benefits to the Internet—everyone has a voice—but it is not a great benefit to your productivity or sanity.

What makes it worse is that a huge number sitting in a little red badge over your RSS reader icon carries an obligation. “How many of those 342 items can I just mark as read, and how many of them do I actually have to pretend to read?” becomes a question that you ponder often. Even a ruthlessly curated RSS list can make you feel like you have to read the entire backlog—maybe even moreso, since you’ve now put time into making sure you’re following quality sources—and that’s just not a feeling that contributes either to getting things done or to relaxing.

I use RSS to keep up with websites and writers whose commentary I value. Currently, I have 89 subscriptions in my Google Reader. Like the number of people I follow on Twitter, I try to keep it under 100. This constraint ensures my feed is always curated with only the highest quality posts, and that I’m never overwhelmed with too much information.

At the very least, I do scan every RSS entry’s headline. I read short and/or pertinent posts on the spot, or mark them as unread for later reading. Long-form articles, or things that interest me, but aren’t pertinent, get sent to Instapaper.

I use Reeder on my iPhone, iPad, and MacBook Pro. I do not use unread badges on any of them. I check Reeder on my own terms, usually multiple times a day. That is, I read RSS when I want to read RSS. It doesn’t try to force its way into my day and steal my attention. I agree with Cheng that multitasking can be detrimental, which is why I don’t leave Reeder open on my Mac while I’m working on something. If I open those apps, it’s because I’ve consciously decided it’s time to look at them. Since I have to actively open Reeder to look at my feeds, it’s easy to forget about it completely when I’m writing or working on something else. Same goes for Twitter, Facebook, and the like.

Marco Arment, in his response to Cheng’s article:

RSS is best for following a large number of infrequently updated sites: sites that you’d never remember to check every day because they only post occasionally, and that your social-network friends won’t reliably find or link to.

This is exactly how I choose which sites to follow. I subscribe to very few big news sites. Lifehacker is the biggest one that comes to mind, and I could probably stand to unsubscribe and just follow their Twitter feed. All of my other subscriptions are independent writers. I don’t follow all of TechCrunch; I just follow MG Siegler. I don’t follow CNN, the New York Times, or any traditional news sites via RSS. I follow a couple on Twitter because it’s easier to scan a tweet than mark every news item of the day as read.

Ben Brooks, in his own response:

To claim that RSS is bad for you if you subscribe to too many feeds is absurd.

What’s bad for you is letting a tool like RSS overwhelm you, take over your life if you will. I have gone away for 3 days, as Marco suggests, and come back to thousands of RSS items, I read them all in time and it never bothered me.

If it bothers you, then blaming the tool is not the solution to this problem.

I agree wholeheartedly. The solution to dealing with information overload — be it via RSS, Twitter, Facebook, etc. — is self-discipline, not blaming the tool itself.

I love RSS. It’s a great tool, and Reeder makes it a joy to use, but I keep all of my feeds carefully curated. If someone starts tweeting way too much, they get unfollowed, or put on a list where I can check in less frequently. I have over 400 friends on Facebook (ugh), but a huge majority of them are hidden from my News Feed, so I only see the people I care about. This disciplined approach always presents me with a feed of high quality information, and it prevents me from getting bogged down and having to sift through meaningless posts.

Cheng asserts that it’s possible to get behind even with a highly curated feed, and that’s true. If I do somehow manage to miss a couple days on my RSS feed, I might have around 200 unread items. But like Ben says, I just get to them over time. I’ll set aside half an hour to clean up my feed. Reeder makes this an easy task. I don’t feel guilty about having unread items. The fact that I’m going to miss things is inevitable, but it’s also not going to kill me. Plus, by keeping my feed populated only with high quality sources, it’s much more likely that I’m going to want to work through the backlog, and doing so won’t be a source of stress.

Obviously, Jacqui Cheng is a tech reporter, and her job dictates that she stay on top of every news story coming down the pipeline. I can’t say what’s best for her. As for me, I’m thankful for having a tool that makes it so easy to read my favorite writers. I use the tool; it doesn’t use me.

I try to post something worthwhile here every weekday, whether it’s original, a link worth reading, or some combination of the two. Subscribing via RSS is one of the best ways to support QLE and keep a steady, but hopefully not too overwhelming, stream of posts coming.

From Bleeps to Beats

I don’t do much video gaming anymore. I used to when I was younger. I’d spend hours and hours exploring virtual worlds, battling evil, and living lives far more exciting than my own. Those were the days.

I miss it a great deal from time to time. Nowadays, video games don’t hold my attention like they used to. Even when I get excited and buy a new one, which is an increasingly rare occurrence, I never end up playing it for very long. I just don’t become immersed in the game’s universe like I once did.

Part of me thinks that games today are just “too good”, with their flawless graphics and amazing technical specifications. It’s like hearing a record that’s overproduced, or a movie that’s been redone and repackaged ad nauseum. Too shiny, too slick. No charm, no heart.

Part of the magic of those old video games was their flawed nature. Deformed character sprites, 8-bit musical scores, sans voice acting. Sigh.

At any rate, I stumbled upon this internet gem: a YouTube user named Garudoh has miraculously compiled a series of videos called, “From Bleeps to Beats: The Music of Video Games”, of which there are over 500 entries. I’m not ashamed to admit I was up until the wee hours of the morning listening to all the old soundtracks from my favorite games. They still hold up.

Some of my favorites:

• Final Fantasy VII
• Final Fantasy VIII
• Final Fantasy IX
• Chrono Cross
• Mega Man X

So. Good. And so impressive for games that are about fifteen years old. I get so much joy from listening to these.

Bask in the nostalgic auditory bliss of my childhood!

The Meaning of Happiness

As usual, James Shelley presents a great mind-bender with his article, Unhappy With Happiness:

But as counter-cultural as it may be, I have serious misgivings about the pursuit of happiness. There is a massive, irreconcilable clash between our modern obsession with happiness and the lives of our cultural heroes like Nelson Mandela, Aung San Suu Kyi, Martin Luther King, Mohandas Gandhi, Mother Teresa — people who would have never inspired us had they simply taken the path of least resistance in order to achieve their own happiness. No, these individuals followed a trajectory set by a pursuit of meaning, justice and purpose. Values set their respective frameworks for making decisions (and significant sacrifices) in life.

This post has thrown me for a loop because I’ve been assuming happiness is the ultimate goal for quite a while now.

The people James lists above are exceptional individuals — once-in-a-lifetime human beings. It’s true that they might have endured much less adversity had they only been concerned with their own happiness, but they also wouldn’t be the heroes of humanity they are today.

Can one aspire to be an individual of the same caliber as Nelson Mandela or Mother Teresa? Sure, why not? But I question the likelihood of such an outcome given most of our comparatively sheltered existences. How can a college graduate from suburban Connecticut become a cultural hero?

Before reading James’ essay, I was always focused on my own happiness, and I don’t mean that in a selfish way. Various influences throughout my life taught me that I can’t control anything except my mind and how it deals with the world around me. That sounds pessimistic, but it was actually liberating because it showed me that no one was in control of my happiness but me.

In college, as I started to become interested in Eastern philosophy and minimalism, I began focusing on ways to eliminate friction in my life. I might not have known what job I wanted, or where I wanted to live, but I did know I wanted to be happy, content, and fulfilled — wherever I was, whatever I was doing. I thought, “We only get one shot here, so why not make it as smooth and enjoyable as possible?” It seemed like a worthwhile and achievable long-term goal.

On top of that, I also found this anonymous quote:

You must love yourself before you love another. By accepting yourself and fully being what you are, your simple presence can make others happy.

As you may know, it’s my favorite quote, and I’ve tried to ingrain it into my conscious as a way to become the person I want to be. I fully believe it, too. If you don’t love yourself, how can you possibly love another? Learning to love yourself is an act of acceptance for who you are. If you can achieve that state, that love will emanate from you and spread to others.

So, my ideal version of happiness is one that allows me to be who I truly am, which is hopefully a person other people enjoy and benefit from. I think this is different from a pursuit of happiness where you only care about yourself or material possessions.

James:

Sheer happiness for happiness’ sake leads to numbness. I can not imagine any other consequence. For once happiness is achieved, what remains? Does not the bubble of the happiness economy eventually burst under the surplus of indulgence?

It seems like a case of “too much of a good thing”, but I don’t think happiness is a state with any sort of permanence or finality. It’s not like we finally get to the happy state and then never have to worry about it again. My happiness rises and falls multiple times over the course of a single day. I don’t think happiness can ever reach a state of an “indulgent surplus”. If you were permanently happy once you achieved happiness, then yes, I would agree that it sounds boring and unfulfilling, although you might not recognize it. It reminds me of an atheist asking what people in Heaven do all day.

Like minimalism, I believe happiness is a constant struggle. I’m constantly editing and refining my life to keep it simple and frictionless. It’s not something that’s just achieved, over, and done with. You can’t just set it and forget it. Even if I can learn to be happy most of the time, I’m still going to have bad days when I just don’t feel like doing anything. That’s human nature.

James concludes:

Once personal happiness is dethroned as the crown jewel of existence — once the dream of a tension-free life is finally disregarded as the rhetoric of infomercials — the world explodes with opportunities and possibilities to pursue causes drenched with meaning. This is, I think, what Viktor Frankl was pleading with us to acknowledge:

What man actually needs is not a tensionless state but rather the striving and struggling for a worthwhile goal, a freely chosen task. What he needs is not the discharge of tension at any cost but the call of a potential meaning waiting to be fulfilled by him.

If not today, then someday, the choice will confront each and every one of us: do we choose the path of happiness or the path of meaning?

I guess what I’m struggling with is why it has to be one or the other. Since when is happiness a meaningless pursuit? I can see how some versions of happiness could be interpreted as selfish, like buying fancy cars or a huge house because you think it’ll make you happy. The pursuit of that happiness is certainly questionable. But I think the quest to love yourself so that you may pass that love onto others is worthwhile.

To suggest that we need to have Gandhi-level achievements to have meaning in our lives is obviously unreasonable. I don’t think Martin Luther King and Aung San Suu Kyi were unhappy people just because they pursued meaning, justice, and purpose. Being happy with myself and making other people happy gives my life plenty of meaning. I value simplicity, and removing friction, and finding inner peace, among other things. The pursuit of those things makes me happy, yes, but also fulfilled.

I would think people who consider themselves to be happy don’t feel their goals and lives are meaningless. Everything you choose to include in your life should contribute to your overall sense of well-being, be it people, places, or things. That includes goals. Whatever you’re pursuing, if it brings you fulfillment, it’s okay in my book.

Don't Fear the iPhone

Leo Babauta on wanting stuff:

I don’t, however, buy the iPhone. I’ve lusted after the iPhone since it first came out in 2007, and for more than four years, I’ve resisted getting one. Not because I like torturing myself, nor because I think I’m too cool for an iPhone, but because I don’t want to give in to the lust. I know I don’t need the iPhone, and I know my brain has been tricked into wanting it.

I love minimalism as much as the next guy, but I don’t fully agree with this.

What is the fear here? What will happen if you buy something you’ve wanted for four years, or “give in to the lust,” as Leo calls it, with scary music in the background.

Obviously, none of us need an iPhone like we need food, shelter, and love, and I don’t think everyone should have one. But the notion of “resisting” buying an iPhone for four years seems counterproductive. That’s four years of internal struggle because of a cell phone.

Minimalists often recommend a 30-day waiting list to avoid impulse buying. When you see something you want, you write it down and see if you still want it in a month. If you genuinely do, go ahead and buy it guilt-free. I think this is a practical idea and not too extreme of a suggestion. But why does the iPhone not apply?

I agree with Leo that advertising convinces the mind that we need much more than we actually do. His tips for reducing desires are great, and I adhere to most of them. But I don’t think owning an iPhone turns me into a victimized consumer either.

Leo’s tweet about Steve Jobs received a decent lashing, and I was among the criticism. My life is different because I own an iPhone, and I’m not ashamed to admit I believe it’s been for the better. As I wrote in my post on why the iPhone is minimalist, it makes my life easier. It makes communication and learning easier, which makes growing easier.

Leo responded to his critics shortly thereafter:

If you have been convinced a product changed your life, then it has. That’s how the magic works.

That’s not magic; it’s common sense. Your perception is your reality. If I believe the sky is red, then to me, it is. The logic here is so circuitous that it’s almost impossible to refute. The more I protest, “But the iPhone really has changed my life!”, the more effective Steve Jobs’s trick was, according to Leo. All of us who tweeted back only made him feel more validated.

Leo takes pity on us in his article, saying its not our fault. We’re only human and easily tricked. My problem is with insinuating that Steve Jobs set out to trick us with his shiny devices. Unfortunately, arguing either way is futile. If that’s what you believe, then that’s what he did.

This issue is a matter of semantics. There’s no convincing either side otherwise. I believe Apple has changed our lives regardless of whether we own any of its products. If you agree, you agree. If not, then in your eyes, I’ve been duped. I just don’t think an iPhone, or an iPad that allows a 99-year-old woman to read and write, is the same as a commercial telling you to buy unhealthy food or pointless possessions. Maybe I’m wrong, though.

I advocate minimalism because I think it solves problems. There are many different degrees of minimalism, which work for many different people. Leo’s way works for him, as mine does for me. However, what I don’t advocate is implying that people who do not adhere to a certain level of minimalism simply by having a passion for a tangible object are somehow worse off. Again, the argument is cyclical. These people have only “given into the lust” if you believe they have. Such language, intentionally or not, plays on fear by making people think, “Oh no! I don’t want to give in to lust! Lust is bad! I don’t want to be tricked!” That’s not constructive; it’s minimalism-mongering.

The iPhone is not harmful enough to warrant four years of mental struggle. Leo will be fine whether he owns an iPhone or not, and so will the rest of us.

We're Not Worthy!

Richard J. Anderson on being an “aspiring writer”:

After all, I hadn’t published a novel, sold a story, or landed a gig writing for pay in any form. Until something along those lines happened, I felt unfit to actually call myself a writer, no matter how much or how little I wrote. Dropping the qualifier has gone a long way to make sure I actually live up to the title I assign myself.

Great point. Often, the qualifier gives us an excuse to fail. If I call myself an “aspiring writer”, by definition, I don’t need to write everyday. I’m just aspiring. I might as well call myself a “struggling writer”. In that case, I pretty much can’t write everyday, or I wouldn’t be struggling, at least not in terms of output.

This website is the first instance where I’ve been writing creatively everyday. Up to this point, any possibility of calling myself a writer was tied to the fact that I was a pretty good English major. Any and all writing I did was for the classroom. Even then, I don’t think I considered myself a writer because I was only writing things out of fear for my GPA. Every college student has to write papers; what makes me a writer instead of them?

Like Richard, I felt I needed to have something to show for myself. Notebooks filled with original works of literary art. Articles published in newspapers and magazines. But that’s not true. As many have said, “A writer writes”, and I think they write because they want to, even when it’s hard.

Now that my academic career is winding down, I’ve been able to start writing this website consistently, Monday through Friday. I committed to publishing the site without fail for a month, succeeded, and kept on going.

I love it.

But the thing is, I still haven’t told anyone what I’m doing. I have zero readers. Does that mean I can’t call myself a writer? I don’t think so. Richard asserts it nicely:

I commit myself to writing, ergo I am a writer. No matter how good my work is, no matter how many or how few read my work, it’s still writing. If I do everything a writer does, I’ll be a writer.

Do I have aspirations for my writing? Of course. But having five readers or five thousand readers doesn’t make me any more or less of a writer. Readers don’t make a writer. Writing makes a writer.

I am a writer; I just happen to have an aspiring website.

The Great iTunes Purge

Last night, I decided to take a couple of hours and purge my iTunes library.

I started with 16,716 songs. That’s a cumulative 129.23 GB of music, which would take 64 days to listen to from start to finish.

By the time I reached the end of my library, I had whittled it down to 12,170 songs. I deleted almost 40 GBs of music. Now it would only take me 44 days to listen to my entire collection. Decent.

How’d I do it? Songs and artists I don’t like, but had some how acquired (Taylor Swift): gone. Songs I don’t mind, but would never consciously decide to listen to (Aerosmith): gone. I kept artists who I’m interested in, but haven’t gotten around to listening to yet, and I obviously kept all my favorite artists.

So, why the merciless deletion?

For one, I’m working toward being able to get all my music on my iPhone so I can stop carrying around both it and an iPod. Up to this point, the iPhone’s 32 GB hard drive has been too small for me to comfortably fit everything; my music collection was/is too big to selectively comb through every song. My library is still pretty enormous, but with the larger hard drives coming up, an iPhone-only setup is definitely doable in the near future.

Second, I keep all of my music on a 750 GB external hard drive because I like knowing that if my computer crashes, it’s all safe and sound. I don’t miss not having my music on my laptop because I either A) have my iPod with me, or B) have access to the internet and any number of music streaming solutions, Spotify and Grooveshark chief among them. These alternatives allow me to keep my computer lean and fast; I don’t have to take up valuable hard drive space with thousands of songs, many of which I don’t listen to regularly.

I want to start backing up this drive, and the more refined my music collection is, the easier that’ll be. Deleting all of my songs-I’m-never-going-to-listen-to also frees up a considerable amount of space on my external drive, thus prolonging the time when I’ll need to upgrade to something larger. Plus, I can’t tell you how satisfying it is to finally delete Billy Joel and Bruce Springsteen.

Additionally, letting go of all those never-played songs feels great. It’s easy to think that the more songs you have in your iTunes, the more sophisticated and eclectic a person you are. But the truth is, no one cares. The feeling of not having to wade through thousands of unplayed songs far outweighs the tiny bit of reassurance you might get from knowing those songs are there if you ever need them, which you probably won’t.

It was time to eliminate all of the musical clutter I’d accumulated over the years, and I recommend purging all types of files every once in a while. It feels awesome, and your computer will thank you.

Fine Writers & Content Creators

Shawn Blanc on “consuming content”:

To say that I am “creating content” for this website is a fancy way of saying that I’m writing. The phrase creating content could be boiled down to simply creating. Or, when we talk about creating content, why not be more specific? Writing, drawing, designing, building, working.

Totally.

I agree with Shawn: there are far better phrases to use than consuming or creating content. “Reading” and “writing” come to mind. But for me, the offense isn’t so much in the verb as it is in the object.

I can’t stand the word “content”. The blogging bloggers throw it around all the time, declaring that the best way to have a successful website is to “create amazing content!” Sure, it’s true, but something about the word just irks me. Like Shawn says, when I sit down to create a post, I’m not thinking about “creating content”; I sit down to write.

“Content” sounds like SEO-infused, pageview-driven… stuff. It lacks heart, and it completely eradicates the romanticism of what it means to be a writer. I don’t set out to include a certain number of keywords, or make sure my article has lots of lists and subheadings to make it easy to skim, or that the title always has some variation of “7 Steps to a Happier, Healthier You!”. When it comes to having a successful website, these criteria seem to be at the center of what the experts define as “amazing content”. But can’t great writing exist without all that?

I’ve been struggling lately with the idea that there are two kinds of writers on the web. The first group is concerned with creating “amazing content”. They have tantalizing headlines, and lots of bold and italics, and plenty of sass, attitude, and exclamation points to GET. YOU. PSYCHED. The goal seems to be pageviews and click-throughs. This group exhausts me.

The second group is concerned with fine writing. These are people obsessed with crafting a great sentence, who love words and seek to explore and understand things. These are writers like John Gruber, Shawn Blanc, Patrick Rhone, Michael Lopp, James Shelley, Merlin Mann, and innumerable others. These are not people who are concerned with making their articles accessible to search engines. These are people intent on producing the best writing they’re capable of. Subsequently, they’re also the writers I respect the most and the ones I consider the most successful.

You could argue that both groups are doing the same thing; they’re both making stuff for us to read, and sure, you could say all fine writers are also content creators. But I believe there’s a different attitude at work. Different intentions, different goals, and different methods for achieving them.

I suppose what it comes down to is signal versus noise. I like to think of “signal” as being synonymous with “depth”. The writers I admire most are those who dig deep to produce quality insight and observations about their field. They don’t wave their arms and shout from the hilltops looking for attention. Rather, they display a quiet reserve, almost a venerable quality. The writing speaks for itself. There’s no need to force it on people. That’s the kind of writer I aspire to be.

My goal is not to lure people into clicking things. So no, maybe my headlines don’t come with flashing neon lights. Maybe my posts don’t have lots of lists and bullets. And maybe you won’t actually die if you don’t read my latest article. But I’ll still be proud of what I’ve written, and there’s a chance someone may find it thought-provoking. I aspire to write things that would make the above individuals think, “Hmm. This doesn’t suck.”

If you believe this website to be full of “amazing content”, thank you, but I hope you feel it was achieved with strong, honest writing above all else.