#135 Violence in a flower garden

ByLukas
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It’s easy to be non-violent when you’re in a flower garden

Josh Waitzkin – The art of learning

It’s easy to be kind to others when the world has always been kind to you.

It’s easy to say you want to be a writer when you never really put yourself out there to prove it.

To learn writing, I must confront the uncomfortable parts of writing – and learn not to respond by running away from it.

To learn non-violence, I must confront violence – and learn not to respond with violence in return.

To learn kindness, I must confront being hurt – and learn not to use that as an excuse to perpetuate the cycle of hurt.

To build trust in myself, I must stay true to my values under difficult conditions.

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    #118 The Process is Predictable

    ByLukas

    First, you practice doing the process every day – because if you don’t do the process consistently, you’ll never move towards an outcome in the first place. Tiny Trust Builders always come first.

    Then, you practice becoming good at the process – because the better you are at the process, the more likely you’ll reach an outcome.

    But, unfortunately, even if you become excellent at the process, you still won’t be able to predict an exact outcome.

    Outcomes are fickle.

    Even progress is fickle.

    But the process is predictable.

    And who knows, maybe the process IS the outcome.

  • |

    #138 Part-time ambition

    ByLukas

    Nobody says you have to be a workaholic to be ambitious.

    Because ambition means nothing more than having a strong desire to succeed.

    You can desire to succeed in getting a promotion, or writing a bestselling book.

    Or you can desire to succeed in working only part-time, and spend the rest of the time with your family.

    You’re free to decide for yourself what to be ambitious about.

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    #92 The true purpose of memory

    ByLukas

    Memory isn’t an objective account of the past – and that’s not its purpose either.

    Memory stores the lessons we extract from life experience. And to do so, it modifies, adds, subtracts, highlights, and hides.

    Hot soup burns my tongue – next time, I’ll remember the pain, but not if it was tomato soup or chicken soup. And I’ll remember to wait a couple of minutes before having the first spoon.

    Experience lived. Irrelevant info deleted. Lesson learned. Memory created.

    My country gets invaded – and that causes so much pain, I won’t just deliver an objective account of what happened: I’ll make sure to tell everyone who the evil guys are too.

    Experience lived. Story modified. Lesson learned. Memory created.

    I eat the most delicious dessert at a Mexico City restaurant – that’s the memory I’m going to tell my friends about, not which glass of dessert wine I had with it.

    Experience lived. Dessert highlighted. Lesson learned. Memory created.

    You’re going to make memories anyway. Which lessons do you want to learn?

  • #2 Why I write

    ByLukas

    If writing and creating every day were as vital to my survival as drinking water, ingesting food, and bonding… What would life look like?

    Biologically, all behavior is driven by pain, pleasure, and the triggers and habits that come from repeated reaction to those stimuli.

    So I eat because I want to escape the pain of hunger – or heartbreak, sadness, and frustration.

    I connect with others because I’m neurologically hardwired to feel pleasure when bonding… and pain and deprivation when I’m abandoned.

    Similarly, I write because I want to escape the frustration of not being able to put into words an insight.

    I also write because I enjoy the rush resulting from finding the words that convey what I want to say.

    I write because I love the tingling in my back and neck when I combine those words into sentences with just the right rhythm, just the right cadence capturing the meaning, context, emotion of what I want to say…

    I write because writing wrests the essence from the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions racing through my mind and body.

    I write because when when I write, I feel that at last, I can make sense of life.

    And the more meaning I find, the more likely I am to write.

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