#270 When it’s better to be wrong
Thought of the day: it’s better to be proven wrong than to be paralyzed in doubt.
Thought of the day: it’s better to be proven wrong than to be paralyzed in doubt.
Frowns carry questions. Puzzles. Uncertainty on the edge of understanding.
“I don’t understand – yet.”
Sometimes they also carry dismissal.
“I don’t agree – why?”
Most of all, frowns symbolize a struggle, a moment of dissonance between what we know and what we encounter.
Balancing on the edge of comprehension or dismissively pushing away the unfamiliar…
This is where insights are born.
Left? Right? Give up? Keep going? Turn back?
Maybe I’ll end up where I must end up, no matter what I decide.
Maybe the flow of life will show me where to go.
AI may write like us – but why do we write in the first place?
AI may translate what we say – but why do we say what we say in the first place?
AI may do what we do – but why do we do what we do in the first place?
Does AI merely regurgitate and build upon what we’ve already said and done?
Do we merely regurgitate and build upon what others have already said and done?
What drives our words and actions?
I can believe I must understand the theory before I engage in practice, or I can believe that theory makes more sense when it explains my practice.
Theory and practice are partners, and more often than not, it should be practice that leads the dance.
One swallow doesn’t make a summer and one off-day doesn’t kill your discipline.
But keep in mind, your actions are votes, and your votes build habits.
My advice? Better maintain the majority for the habit you want to be here to stay.
I can believe I’ve published the perfect insight – until I narrate the podcast version a couple of weeks later and suddenly notice subtle typos and, sometimes, logical flaws. The typos and flaws were always there – but did I make a mistake earlier?
I can believe I’ve nailed this yoga pose – until, during one session, I suddenly sense some tension in my neck I had never noticed before. The tension was always there – did I make a mistake earlier?
I can believe I’ve cooked the perfect dish – until one day, I notice that the sauce tastes even better with a little less salt. But, even before I noticed it, the improvement was always there – did I make a mistake earlier?
Maybe learning is not about errors but about gaining ever more subtle awareness.