proven
Baby, life is what you make it
I have heard everyone say it. If I had to, I could not count how many times my pals with kids have asked, “So when are you going to be a dad?” or “How come you don’t have any kids yet?” For years I fielded kind words from my friends who considered me well suited for it, who wondered aloud why I was taking so long. For years I thought they were mad for giving up so much of their free time.
Meanwhile, I was spending mine on every indulgence. Travel, people, ideas, experiences. I do not know what boredom is. Put me in a room and I can occupy myself indefinitely. I was missing something. It was great sometimes. It was also unfulfilling. Eventually I grew stymied by my own modest successes. Eventually, without any sacrifice, without a reason, one day I woke up and began to allow the idea in – that it all meant very little. Matt Johnson wrote it best as a sarcastic anthem to the selfish side of being human, True Happiness This Way Lies:
Have you ever wanted something so badly that it possessed your body and your soul? Through the night and through the day until you finally get it – and then you realize that it wasn’t what you wanted after all? And then those self-same, sickly little thoughts now go and attach themselves to something or somebody new and the whole goddam thing starts all over again…
I am grateful for many things and thank the gods moment to moment for each of them, not least of which is this mother of all adventures. I thought I knew what true collaboration was. I thought I had an idea of how much I had to learn about patience and taking care of myself. There was a time I presumed to be standing on the edge of understanding what was important to me. It may have been practice or it may have just been wasting time. Now, I am learning a kind of generosity I did not know I was capable of. Somehow, there are more authentic versions of such heavy things following me around like sauntering breezes tumbling leaves around my ankles. I have at last been introduced to myself. Looking into the eyes of your own child does that. My pals were hardly kidding.
Tonight my little boy lies here over my shoulder, asleep. Inspired by this picture of Daschel and I, taken by his mother, I write this as I snuggle him and rub his face gently with the back of my hand. I am at this and each passing moment fully aware of him, his mother, our life, and my impact on it. This is now the definition of success. Whatever I used to care about, whatever I once thought important is dust. You better believe this is everything it is cracked up to be. If there is a bigger, more ultimate, adventure I would love to know what it is. I am grateful I did not miss out.
We wished for him, you see, his mother and I. We both wanted nothing more than to be parents. Each of us, alone, from the midst of our previous and interesting (albeit unsatisfying) lives daydreamed a child of our own. A miraculous occurrence. Here he is looking at me (with just one eye now, he’s getting snoozy). In that previous life I would have quietly asked myself, “What are the chances of that?”
Now, I know better. Things just got more interesting than I could have imagined.
One day I will fruitlessly try explaining this to him, knowing full well he will merely have to stumble around until he discovers it on his own as I did. I will likely blather on saying something like, “Baby, life is what you make it. Thoughts become things. Choose only the best ones.”
From the Water
I think about water. A lot. I think about water because it has this exquisite power: water can change dramatically while retaining its original properties. It morphs into unrecognizably different states of matter while continuing to be itself, unaltered.
It is easy to resist change. We are conditioned against it in most of our cultures, generally speaking. Is it a natural reflex to resist it? Many of us make great sacrifice to avoid it. Laws are written and put into place to stymy it. Large, expensive buildings are built to protect against it. Minds are made up against it and reject ideas that even hint at it. Blockades of all sorts are built against experience that may lead to it. The fights against it use energy we don’t even have to spare. In some cases, some put themselves at risk in the process physically, emotionally. Heavy stuff.
Steeped in a culture of change, I anticipate it, ride it, enjoy and thrive in it. They say change is the only thing that stays the same so, even as a child, it was clear: why not make friends with it and welcome such opportunities for growth and learning? I owe my resiliency to having a family that faced many changes and stayed together through each and every one, relying on change, even as it was difficult. We collectively and individually learned to make the most of each one and find lessons in change that could not have been learned from any school. We taught ourselves to live better through it and within it. I owe the quality of my life and my capacity for experience to these lessons and to my family for providing access to them.
Wherever I go I meet people who spend a lot of time, energy, and resources fighting change. Inevitably change wins out and I am forced then to watch them tire and cave into it reluctantly, sometimes painfully. I try and not speak during such situations. I have only the choice to let others make their own mistakes in whatever way they choose. There is no other way to learn. We can try to tell them to just let change take them on the ride and enjoy it, but that doesn’t work. It only inspires them to resist more zealously.
I think about water. While I’m watching those I barely know or those I love with all my heart as they adapt to change, I think about water. I think about how long water has been doing it, changing, adapting, enduring, and yet it does not really change. Water does not waste time or energy in the face of the inevitable. It literally just rolls with it. It finds a way around obstacles. Every time.
I think about children, too. In children lies this spirit, willing to explore change, even revel in it. Somewhere along the line most of us seem to lose touch with a kind of innocent tenacity, the way a child solves a problem in play. The effort to change is transparent in children, like water. They have the ability to exhaustively problem-solve using none of the biased doubt (I call it ‘obstructionism’) often found in grown-ups. We make excuses and use our amazing brain-machines to come up with answers for everything, or create atmospheres of resistance, even subconsciously trying to derail change, arrogantly, ignorantly, trying everything except friendly solutions to accepting it and making it work for us.
Being afraid is no fun. It causes stress. It is no good. It affects everyone around us while we give into it. My strategies for dealing with it is this: I think about water. I think about children. Mostly water. I come from the water.
Tabula Rasa
From Wikipedia:
Tabula rasa is the epistemological thesis that individuals are born without built-in mental content and that their knowledge comes from experience and perception. Generally proponents of the tabula rasa thesis favour the “nurture” side of the nature versus nurture debate, when it comes to aspects of one’s personality, social and emotional behaviour, and intelligence. The term in Latin equates to the English “blank slate” (which refers to writing on a slate sheet in chalk) but comes from the Roman tabula or wax tablet, used for notes, which was blanked by heating the wax and then smoothing it to give a tabula rasa.
Of course, this debate has since taken a different route as put forth here by the inimitable Evelyn Fox Keller. All quite interesting enough.
Tinkering School: Day 8
Go cart design, assembly and testing by the inimitable Team Tinker with snippets of boat model design and other moments of singular, whimsical tinkering mastery. Thanks to Moby for his song, Porcelain.
Honey, it really works
When I first moved away from Alaska nearly 5 years ago, there was one thing I wasn’t anticipating having to deal with: allergies. For years I was allergy-free living in the Pacific Northwest and Alaska. That all changed quickly upon making my new home in the Middle West.
I tried over-the-counter remedies, which left me feeling speedy and just “off” until one of my pals told me about the solution: locally made honey.
Honey has anti-microbial properties and has for centuries been used for medicinal purposes of all sorts, including as a dressing for serious wounds. It’s also high in antioxidants and tastes real good on cereals, in sauces, lemonade and all kinds of stuff. Still, the most interesting use I’ve ever heard of for honey is as a natural remedy for seasonal allergies. According to various natural health practitioners, pollen found in locally-grown raw honey works over time to desensitize the body to allergens much like traditional allergy shots work.
It’s working for me. The season so far has been allergy-free, even amidst rumblings from pals that it is unseasonably allergy-ish, and I would like to thank the East Side Co-op for selling multiple varieties of the stuff – it’s saved my sanity and made my summer completely enjoyable again. Thanks, bees and beekeepers out there : )
Maria Montessori
In 1896, Maria Montessori gave a lecture at the Educational Congress in Torino about the training of the disabled. The Italian Minister of Education was in attendance, and was impressed by her arguments sufficiently to appoint her the same year as director of the Scuola Ortofrenica, an institution devoted to the care and education of the mentally retarded. She accepted, in order to put her theories to proof. Her first notable success was to have several of her 8 year old students apply to take the State examinations for reading and writing. The “defective” children not only passed, but had above-average scores, an achievement described as “the first Montessori miracle.” Montessori’s response to their success was “if mentally disabled children could be brought to the level of normal children then (she) wanted to study the potential of ‘normal’ children”.
She believed:
Scientific observation has established that education is not what the teacher gives; education is a natural process spontaneously carried out by the human individual, and is acquired not by listening to words but by experiences upon the environment. The task of the teacher becomes that of preparing a series of motives of cultural activity, spread over a specially prepared environment, and then refraining from obtrusive interference. Human teachers can only help the great work that is being done, as servants help the master. Doing so, they will be witnesses to the unfolding of the human soul and to the rising of a New Man who will not be a victim of events, but will have the clarity of vision to direct and shape the future of human society.
Montessori’s method emphasizes learning through all five senses, not just through listening, watching, or reading. Children learn at their own, individual pace and according to their own choice of activities. Learning is a process of discovery, leading to concentration, motivation, self-discipline, and a love of learning. Montessori classes typically place children in three-year age groups (3-6, 6-9, 9-12, and so on), forming communities in which the older children spontaneously share their knowledge with the younger ones.
Ken Burns on filmmaking
If you wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer or a feature film I could tell you the steps to take to do that, but every working documentary filmmaker I know has gotten there through their own unique path. There is no career path.
10secondfilms.org
Some think content will keep getting longer and longer until movies are 3 and 4 hours long. That’s fine. OK with us. We also like the idea of not spending 3 or 4 hours to get something out of it.
Like music, there is a time and place for a long song and a short one. We like them both. We do listen to waaay more short songs than long ones, though. This is the reason we love still images more than films. If our house was on fire and we had to save still images or films, we would have to save the stills. We know. Sounds surprising! We work in motion but, like most of our favorite filmmakers, we think in stills. Moments. In a moment, a still image can change our lives. Films take a little longer.
Which is one reason we created and curate 10secondfilms.org. In 10 moments, a film can pack quite a wallop. Some maybe not so much, but are still worthy as friendly exercises in media literacy.
Howard Rheingold called this site “genius, funny, and yes, friendly expression of participation media literacy” via his Twitter account.
Gever Tulley also commented on it using the most appropriate phrase ever: “oddly compelling” – also via Twitter.
Compliments coming from fellas like these make us feel pretty darn swell, to say the least. Thank you, Gever and Howard. You both have our most humble admiration and deepest respect.
This is all just to say that we believe the experience of producing media should be a friendly one for all ages, especially as technology can still be an obstacle to the creative process for many of us. As an exercise in media and visual literacies, the 10-second format is vital. It minimizes the need for complex tools. These moments as movies are gratifying and occasionally inspire larger, more ambitious projects.
Make a 10 second film with any device that captures motion pictures.
No editing — One take — 10 seconds maximum length — Sound is optional.
Have a 10 second film you like?
We’d love to hear about it and perhaps even feature it on the site – click here to tell us more.
Meanwhile, thanks for reading and — keep playing.
Temple Grandin: The World Needs all kinds of Minds
Temple Grandin, diagnosed with autism as a child, talks about how her mind works — sharing her ability to “think in pictures,” which helps her solve problems that neurotypical brains might miss. She makes the case that the world needs people on the autism spectrum: visual thinkers, pattern thinkers, verbal thinkers, and all kinds of smart geeky kids.
Education at its Finest
BFIS and Habitat for Humanity in Senegal
A small window into the experience of students from the Benjamin Franklin International School in Barcelona who spent a week near Dakar, Senegal in Keur Mbaye Fall, working in collaboration with Habitat for Humanity.
“If we wish to teach fish to swim, it helps if we put them in the water”
Sycamore Review: Zach Falcon
Sycamore Review: Winter 2010 featuring Zach Falcon
ZACH FALCON was born and raised in Alaska. A graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, his stories have appeared or are forthcoming in Quiddity, the 2009 Bridport Prize Anthology, and the Bear Deluxe Magazine. He lives in Iowa City where he is working on a novel.
Is Better the enemy of Good?
To some, the answer to this question is “no”. The same ones who believe better is always the goal, always, at all costs. There is a time and place for that, surely. Nonetheless, good has been under attack for far too long by the ones who perhaps misinterpreted the message. The same ones who are always scanning the room for someone more interesting, more attractive, more wealthy, more – whatever. “Better”. The same ones who sacrifice personal relationships for sales, spending time at the office when they aren’t obligated instead of with their families and friends. The ones who create unsustainable work cultures for themselves and then blame the job. The ones who don’t set boundaries for themselves. The ones who boast of their strengths but deceive themselves about their weaknesses. The ones who prefer to push feelings down deep and then later become angry about their cowardice, taking it out unfairly on others. The same ones who talk it but don’t walk it. The same ones who are always quick with snarky retorts about feelings, who pride themselves on their sarcastic bag of tricks, walking around with their bully suits on. The same ones who walk through life at an arm’s length away from true feeling, wondering why they can’t connect with others. The same ones who would risk nothing for beauty. The same ones who make decisions for a living and don’t consider the people whose lives those decisions affect. The same ones who think it cool to buy instead of make. The same ones who don’t think it important to nurture and build their own culture but adopt someone else’s culture as their own. TV. The same ones who take big things for granted and are completely oblivious to the small things. The same ones who have next to zero powers of observation. The ones who say “no” by default instead of “yes”. The ones who are sure they know that already and say “I know” a lot. The same ones who are absolutely, positively sure they are sane. The same ones who don’t spend time or earnest effort on anything that doesn’t make obvious contributions to the bottom lines that power any dreams they might have left. Dreams about stuff, things, empty, unfeeling ways of thinking about the world and ways to live in it. Empty. Unsustainable.
This can be any or all of us at any time. We are ALL guilty of waging war against good.
I’m writing my thoughts and feelings here today in defense of the idea of good.
The reason for the recent turn in the economy is clear: we simply haven’t been building a sustainable culture, not in work, not inside of ourselves, not outside, not anywhere. We have been neglecting good, collectively. A strong majority of us continue to forget the lessons illuminated for us in films, literature, et al, yet we still continue to seek out the insatiable paths to ruin. Double-glazing this-and-that isn’t going to change the nature of us. We leave those tough decisions to the characters in our movies and novels.
At some point we all will die. In the moments leading up to thee moment we pass on to whatever that means, is all of this clear, or is even that moment obscured by the impulse to sacrifice good for the sake of better?
I think of that moment more often than I should have to but it keeps me grounded, tied to what good means. I’m not afflicted with the disease of chronic dissatisfaction with my life, my friends, my car, etc. To some that may sound morbid, or even arrogant, but it gives me access to moments of sheer awe, real connectedness to people, and tear-soaked moments of absolute, all-encompassing thankfulness for each and every moment of it.
In the coming year, it is my wish for all of the people everywhere to let go of this anger, stop buying it and buying into it online, on TV, on the radio, in person. Wherever the voice of what makes us unsatisfied lives, turn it off, turn on something that BUILDS, that uplifts, that reminds us of the wondrous things we are capable of, of what’s GOOD.
good
–adjective
of high quality; excellent.
right; proper; fit.
honorable or worthy.
educated and refined.
financially sound or safe.
genuine; not counterfeit.
sound or valid.
reliable; dependable.
healthful; beneficial.
in excellent condition.
not spoiled or tainted; edible; palatable.
favorable; propitious.
cheerful; optimistic; amiable.
Whether we like it or not, good is good and it’s entirely up to each of us to nurture it in our own time in this world, whatever it is.
Cheers to all of the good in our lives now and in the years to come.
Rules
Bruno Faidutti has written his thoughts about the merits of designing rules simply and with particular clarity:
The essence of a game is in its rulebook – the rules of the game are autonomous, complete, finite and known by all players. This may even be what makes games different from most other human activities, whose rules are never as autonomous, as complete, as finite and as clear, which may explain why the latter are often more burdensome and frustrating than the former. This game rules set is virtual, and is the fundamental creation, half literary and half logical, of the game’s author. It has to be explained to the gamers as fast, clearly and completely as possible. The main way to do this is the written rules set. Let’s talk now only of this written rulebook, or at least rule sheet.
read the rest of his editorial here if you wish
via @metagaming
