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    #23 For all the languages I’ve learned

    For all the languages I’ve learned
    trying in vain to put the inner and outer world into words
    closely but not completely capturing the essence
    I now realize the biggest insights reveal themselves
    where words are worthless and feelings reign
    where they are felt and lived, embodied,
    refusing to be rationalized, categorized
    or undergo the violent limitations of our words.

    Maybe language learning is more about admitting that some languages are lived, not learned.

    That some insights are felt, not expressed.

    That sometimes words create distance from what we experience deep down, instead of offering the clarity we seek.

    Accepting that may well be the biggest challenge of all.

    There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen.

    Rumi
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    #93 Second-Hand Memories and Trust Issues

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

    What about second-hand memories? Accounts of past events we didn’t experience ourselves, wars, volcano eruptions, scientific discoveries,…

    For knowledge to accumulate, to stand on the shoulders of giants, we need to transmit such lessons too. Not just as data or accounts of the past – also as memories.

    But transmitting second-hand memories require trust.

    Can we rely on the interpretation of others?

    Who do we allow to control the narrative?

    Parents? Elders? Teachers? Governments and politicians?

    YouTubers? Influencers? Bloggers? Twitter gurus?

    AI models and chatbots?

    Objective data doesn’t exist. Objective memories don’t exist either. So if we can’t trust second-hand memories anymore, collective memory and our whole learning model collapses.

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    #17 Humming my way to innovative insights

    In his book “The Breakout Principle“, Harvard Medical School professor Herbert Benson asserts that most of our big epiphanies and insights are preceded by:

    1. A phase of strong mental and physical exertion
    2. A phase of relaxation, where you release the mind and let it roam freely.

    Benson discovered that the phase of relaxation seems to be accompanied by the release of nitric oxide (NO), a powerful neurotransmitter.

    Among other things, nitric oxide improves cellular oxygen uptake, is a vasodilator and muscle relaxer, and improves cardiovascular health.

    Benson goes as far as saying nitric oxide may be “the biochemical foundation for the relaxation response” and the catalyst for the “breakout” (= the insight or epiphany).

    When I read about Nitric Oxide in Benson’s book, I realized I had heard about Nitric Oxide in a different context (the Where Else Principle at work): pranayama, a yogic breathing practice. In his book The Illuminated Breath, Yoga teacher Dylan Werner mentions the same health benefits of nitric oxide, and adds that it’s made in the lining of the blood vessels, nasal cavity, and in the paranasal sinus.

    He also mentions we can increase production of nitric oxide by breathing slowly through the nose (so there’s more air exchange in the sinuses and nasal cavity).

    What’s more: a certain type of yogic breathing, bhramari pranayama or humming bee breath, can increase the production of nitric oxide fifteen fold because it increases the air vibration, and thus air exchange in the sinuses and nasal cavity.

    That’s right: fifteen times more nitric oxide from a simple humming breath practice.

    Seems like my daily bhramari pranayama practice is the perfect way to relax the body, the, mind, and create the perfect conditions for those new insights to emerge.

    That’s why I am sculpting away, day by day, humming my way through life… and the insights always seem to follow.

    Now I know why.

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    #92 The true purpose of memory

    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?

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    #53 The flow of skill- and habit-building

    First, build trust in your good intentions. In other words: take actions that are “votes for the person you want to be“.

    Then, build trust in your ability to persevere. In other words: build a habit.

    Only then, you start building trust in your ability to constantly improve and become good (or excellent). In other words: build skill.

    Building the habit is the hard part – even more so if you simultaneously try to “be good at what you do”. Once your reach habit escape velocity and the habit is in place, building skill becomes way easier.

    Another reason why there’s power in publishing imperfect work.


    First I become good at writing every day.
    Then I become good at writing.

    First I become good at playing the guitar every day.
    Then I become good at playing the guitar.

    First I become good at doing yoga every day.
    Then I become good at yoga.

    First I become good at meditating every day.
    Then I become good at meditating.

    Lukas Van Vyve
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    #108 The Unexpected Complement

    Unique value often lies in seemingly strange combinations.

    The beekeeping lawyer.

    The pro soccer player with an astrophysics degree.

    The theologist waking up early every morning to go surfing.

    The public servant spending their evenings performing at the local stand-up comedy bar.

    The motorcycle repair shop owner writing philosophy books.

    The chess champion with a Brazilian Ju-Jitsu black belt.

    Societal pressure and expectations make such combinations unlikely. Out of the ordinary. Maybe even undesirable: an obstacle to conformity.

    And if it’s undesirable, it becomes rare.

    And here’s the twist: what’s rare usually becomes valuable.

    Because there’s nothing incompatible about these combinations – in fact, the skills you practice may well complement each other in unique and valuable ways.

    What could be an unexpected complement for your life?

    Something you’re secretly interested in, but – according to society – doesn’t fit who you are (or who you’re supposed to be)?

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