“Lying in bed and smoking my sixth or seventh cigarette of the morning, I’m wondering what the hell I’m going to do today. Oh yeah, I gotta write this thing. But that’s not work, really, is it? It feels somehow shifty and… dishonest, making a buck writing. Writing anything is a treason of sorts. Even the cold recitation of facts — which is hardly what I’ve been up to — is never the thing itself. And the events described are somehow diminished in the telling. A perfect bowl of bouillabaisse, that first, all-important oyster, plucked from the Bassin d’Arcachon, both are made cheaper, less distinct in my memory, once I’ve written about them. Whether I missed a few other things or described them inadequately, like the adventures of the amazing Steven Tempel or my Day in the Life, is less important. Our movements through time and space seem somehow trivial compared to a heap of boiled meat in broth, the smell of saffron, garlic, fish bones and Pernod.”
— “Kitchen Confidential”, Anthony Bourdain
Author: Rebecca Toh
TED Connects: Elizabeth Gilbert
A really, really good one with Elizabeth Gilbert. I sat through the whole thing, enchanted and comforted.
Learning French
Started learning French via Duolingo. So far an amazing experience. I am in awe. The app is fun and addictive… and I’ve just realised “fun and addictive” are also part of their official marketing language. So it’s interesting to see that users of the app (i.e. myself) are experiencing the process the way they wanted us to.
I spend about an hour every day on the app, though not always at one go (it’s a great alternative to social media by the way). Already I’ve learned about 100 new words in less than four days (according to the app at least) and have gotten a faint grasp of French grammar and sentence structure without much strain or struggle, thanks to the gamification of the learning process. I’m still at the very first modules (what the app calls “skills”) so I haven’t quite teased out what Duolingo’s flaws are yet, but as of now it’s been, well, fun and addictive. And mainly because it’s really quite strangely satisfying to be learning a new language without breaking into much of a sweat.
(Of course, as we ascend the skill levels, things are going to get harder and I have no doubt we will need to put in more effort into reinforcing the new knowledge. But the app strives to smoothen this process and make it as enjoyable as possible.)
A 65-year-old woman on the app (they have tiny forums embedded within each skill level for people to engage in discussions) has been on a Duolingo streak for more than a year and she can now read and speak French, albeit limitedly. That’s quite an inspiring story and proves many things — that we can start learning new things at any age, that smart and well-designed products like Duolingo can bring extraordinary value (even joy) to people, and that by consistently chipping away at something every day, even something as “tough” as learning a new language can be totally doable and conquerable.
Which, by the way, is an idea most well-articulated by James Clear.
Alright, enough talking. Let’s go get 1% better every day.
Salvation
Sometimes I feel like words are barely enough. And yet sometimes words are everything. In fact, words can turn out to be one’s salvation, if you allow them to to save you.
And not only words but music too and movies, photography, and any other kind of art. I don’t have the words to explain why this is so, but I know it in my gut. I know it intuitively. That sometimes we are saved by beautiful things and it doesn’t even matter why or how.
Words.
First there are the words written by other people. Novels, poetry, articles on the internet, a fucking blog post. Any of these can save or change a life. Any of this can be a match struck in a dark night, just when you most need it.
Then there are the words you write. If you allow yourself to write honestly, to write from your soul (if you believe in such a thing), then writing can be salvation too, no matter how inept you are at it. It doesn’t matter if the words you write are ever only seen by yourself. It doesn’t matter if you only ever write in your private diaries. The point is to write, to allow the darkness in you to transform itself into understanding. Because to write is to come to a little more understanding of yourself, and a little understanding goes a long way.
There are many times when I sit before a blank page and believe one hundred percent in the thought in my head that goes, “You have nothing to write about”. On days when I have no resolve I simply give up, so another day goes by without me writing. But on some days I sit before the blank page long enough to force the words out of me, and then I realise that I have endless things to write about, and that my thoughts are often lying to me about what I can and cannot do.
Reading and writing can transform your suffering. I believe that with my entire heart. So I continue to read… and I continue to write.
Listening to: Nick Drake.
The art of living each day well
Do less, do better, know why
Sorry I disappeared for awhile!
Singapore is on its third day of soft lockdown – we are to stay home for one month and are no longer allowed by law to visit anyone who is living at a different address, although we can still go out to buy food and exercise.
Is it surreal? A little. But flow we must.
Cal Newport on how to be less overwhelmed and more meaningfully productive:
1. Do fewer things.
2. Do them better.
3. Know why you’re doing them.
A nice reminder for these times. And for all times, really.
Home
is
Nothing is good or bad; it just is.
I drill this daily into my thick skull.
27 years in solitary confinement
“I’ve watched quite a few people fall apart, lose their minds. But I went in another direction. So 27 years later I’m still sound in mind and body and spirit. I attribute that to just reading and cultivating myself. That’s the thing, when you’re thrown upon yourself, you realize you are more equipped than you realized.”
The shape of a day
After a decade of working from home, I have no daily routine to speak of.
I have always wanted to have a routine, but I have never managed to keep one up. The main reason is because of the way my mind works. At least this is how I have come to justify my, in the eyes of an outsider, rather haphazard way of life at home.
I need inspiration in order to spring into action, whether it’s for work or for mundane things like cooking or drinking tea. I can’t keep to a strict timetable because if I’m not feeling it, then I don’t want to be doing it. This is especially so for my work, which is creative in nature. And also for writing — if I’m not feeling it, I can’t write it.
Having said that, I do have a list of things I want to make sure I do throughout the day. I have a document titled “The Shape of A Day” in my Evernote that outlines how a good day at home looks like. It serves as a reminder for me, a constant point of reference.
A good day is when I wake up early, drink plenty of warm water, find time to meditate, exercise, read and do work that needs to be done. A good day must also allow for exploratory, non-essential creative work. In other words, I must have my play time. I must have the freedom to let my thoughts meander, to feel bored, to learn new things, etc. A strict timetable will not allow for this sort of flexibility and anything-can-happen-ness.
Often I cannot check all the items on this list, but as long as I can hit 75% I consider the day a win. (Sometimes I cut myself some slack and ignore this list entirely.)
One thing that’s really important for working at home successfully is the ability to focus. It’s really hard to get meaningful work done at home if we can’t focus. So sometimes I resort to deleting my social media apps. And I like to switch on the airplane mode on my phone. It’s crucial that I work in a state of utter disconnection.
What role does discipline play in all these then? The truth is that to have a reasonable amount of creative output, we must also be reasonably disciplined. As much as I love the freedom of doing things only when I’m inspired to do them, I don’t think I can produce anything meaningful without a measure of discipline.
So yes, I navigate daily that tricky territory between inspiration and discipline. Writing is a good example. I am not always inspired to write, but I do have a desire to do it. This is where discipline comes in. I make myself sit down and write, and this often leads, miraculously, to moments of inspiration and flow.
I don’t think I can ever hit peak productivity with my haphazard way of working, but then I also think we have to stick with what works best for our individual personalities and inclinations. For now this is what works for me. But who knows, things can change on a dime. I’ll update when they do.