Purpose

There are 75 posts tagged Purpose (this is page 3 of 4).

Notes: Is this noteworthy?

In a response to The Dangerous Effects of Reading (an essay I highlighted in a previous note), nlawalker wrote the following comment on Hacker News.

His last point about noteworthiness is an incredibly useful way to avoid wasting time. I started curating and sharing notes on things that I read because I feel that doing so will not only help me retain and determine the usefulness of what I'm consuming, but also help others spend less time filtering through stuff.

I definitely agree about the "filtering crap from gold" bit. Once you reach a certain level of skill it can become a hindrance: you develop an extremely low tolerance for anything that doesn't catch you as interesting within a few seconds, and you start speed-reading absolutely everything. This is good in that you aren't wasting time consuming something that's not really useful, but it's bad in that you end up continuously subjecting yourself to input in this way. You can spend a whole day processing a million inputs, throwing them all away and learning nothing, when the alternatives are to spend your time doing something more fun or productive, or slowing down a bit and maybe actually getting a tidbit or two out of the first few hundred inputs and leaving the rest for another time.

A while ago, when I was reading for the purpose of focused learning (technical books, scouring blogs for information about some framework/API, etc.), I began the habit of taking copious notes. My notes are very wordy; it's almost like I'm having a conversation with myself and rephrasing ideas so I can understand them better. OneNote is my weapon of choice - for me it reduces the "barrier to entry" of starting notetaking because it's easy write now and organize later.

Over time, I realized that when I took notes this way, I had a much higher retention rate and a much greater understanding of what I was reading. So much so that when I find myself sitting at my desk or on the couch and "infosnacking," I try to stop and ask myself, "is what I am reading right now worth taking notes on?" If it is, then I start writing. If it's not, I make the effort to tear myself away and either do something that's more productive or something that I really enjoy.

Notes: The middle-man to your happiness

David Tate writes about the dangerous effects of reading, but more than that he explains why it's so vital that we stop being filters, that we stop developing a habit of judging what we're consuming in attempt to consume things that make us happier and instead focus on creating the things that actually make us happy.

I think we should all agree that getting faster at judging things is bad, but I think the real danger in having a super-efficient-filter is that your default mode is exclusion – you reject long enough and you lose the ability to create things that pass your own filter. You stagnate at work for fear of everything you do being judged like every news article or viral video that you view.

So how do you break the power of consumption? By creating your own things. All the things you consume - somewhere somebody is making all this stuff, right?

Adding anything (not just your opinion) to the world is creating – writing, drawing, dancing (not line-dancing which is not art but instead some sort of long-term psychological annoyance stress test). Normally when people think of 'creating' or 'innovation' they think of a naked hippie standing in the woods painting a tree, an alcoholic writer slaving away at a sad tale of a small town, or some tech geek coming up with some new way to annoy everyone by sharing every detail of their pointless life.

If the world overwhelms you with its constant production of useless crap which you filter more and more to things that only interest you can I calmly suggest that you just create things that you like and cut out the rest of the world as a middle-man to your happiness?

A Three Step Plan

I see it everywhere, often in marketing and things that are demanding my attention. "Three steps. It's simple!" But does it have value? Is it worth it? You could have a three-step-plan for life too: be born, age a little, and then die.

Sometimes things aren't so simple and easy. Sometimes, the things really worth doing are a lot more complicated. You can tackle them in a simple way, sure, but life isn't a three-step-process and neither are most things worth doing.

I admire and even advocate simplicity, but not at the expense of doing things that matter.

Losing Focus Through Association

Where is my focus? Am I focusing on the right thing? Am I putting too much effort in the wrong direction? Am I inadvertently stunting my growth?

These are questions I ask myself quite frequently. I'm not sure when I started asking these questions or even why, but I do know that asking them often leads to recognizing areas of my life where I'm stagnating or where I'm otherwise unconsciously holding myself back or underutilizing my potential (or simply walking in the wrong direction).

The world is full of people who want to tell us how to do things. And I don't think that's bad. I don't think they're doing it with malicious intent: sharing what we know is an innate human quality. I also don't think it's bad to listen to what others have to say: I've grown so much in my life thanks to the advice and experiences shared by others.

But I think there's a danger in following too closely, in listening too intently, in modeling our life too closely around the lives of others. We lose a bit of ourselves through association. If we permanently associate with anything but our true selves, we will easily forget why we're doing things we're doing. We will lose sight of what feels innately important to us.

To really get at the core of what matters, to really focus our energy on growing in the right directions, we need to strip away everything, all the labels, the assumptions, the role models, and the beliefs. 

Who am I? 

When I strip away everything, I just am. And when I approach life from that state, I become a paint brush and everything else becomes the paint. There are no labels, no genres, no niches, no must-haves and have-nots. There are no limitations, no restrictions, no "this is who I am" or "this is who I am not". There just is, and pure potential.

Notes: Entrepreneurs: Picking Something vs Being Someone

I've read a lot of stuff over the past few years about building a business online. Most of it talks about the need to identify "our niche" so that we can focus on talking and selling to our "right people". The problem was, settling on a niche meant giving up my multi-faceted self and I wasn't prepared to do that.

So when I came across Abby Kerr, I loved the way that she broke that status quo. She still talks about 'right people' -- which is a concept I agree with, to a point -- but she also takes things a step further and embraces expansiveness in nichification.

Her newsletter comes with a fantastic free e-Course called Creating a Truly Irresistible Niche. All of the emails in the series had something fantastic and her style of writing is one of the few styles that I find really engaging and fun. The highlighted piece below from the email series really hit home:

I don't think wannabe entrepreneurs should just pick something.

I think that wannabe entrepreneurs should be someone.

And the best part about being? Being is an evolutionary process. It's never stagnant. It's continually changing by nature. All beings are born from a process of change and are destined to change, forever.

And really powerful, sentient beings {like you and me} don't just evolve, they create revolutions, and they have revelations. And they help their Right People to have them, too.

I like to look at my entrepreneurial niche, and yours, as an ongoing evolution and revolution {of self, ideas, and ways of doing business}, full of revelations.

This isn't just playful phraseologie.

This is a complete approach to claiming your entrepreneurial niche in this moment, living what you believe to its fullest, being a great friend to those you help and serve and create for, while embracing the reality that because you are not a stagnant being, neither will be your business.

Claiming a niche, the Niche of You, allows you to continue your own growth process. You can explore your niche, be expansive within it, play with it, turn it on its head just for kicks, break it down into its many facets and go deeply into each one.

Remember, even the smallest bits of earthly matter are a universe unto themselves.

And so are you.

And so is your niche.

How important is it?

Why do we set out to do something only to dismiss it entirely? We forge ahead at the beginning (mentally and perhaps verbally) but then something happens just before the point where we take action. 

The intention is there, but something is missing. We know exactly what needs to be done and we know how to do it, but something prevents it from ever becoming reality. 

I believe everything we intend to do that doesn't get done is a direct result of this one thing: it wasn't important enough.

Or at least we didn't decide it was important enough. We had the motivation and the know-how, but we didn't put enough thought into the "why". At first glance the "why" seems obvious, a no-brainer that shouldn't need much explanation, to others or to ourselves. But it's actually crucial to maintaining momentum.

In analyzing why certain recurring intentions never become reality -- waking up early, doing daily yoga and meditation, writing in this journal, running regularly -- I've discovered one missing component that is common to all of them: I had not decided how important they were and why they were important.

It's easy to say to myself, "it's important, now let's do it", but that's not enough. I need to understand the why inside out. I need to come to terms with what will happen if I don't take care of these things. 

I told you, and myself, that I'd do an experiment for the last 10 days of this year. I would write and publish at least one paragraph a day in this Journal. Well, here I am with 8 days to go and I haven't written in this Journal.

Why not? I have the time. I haven't run out of thoughts or words. I do still want to do it. So why haven't I done anything with it?

It's simple: I hadn't decided how important it was to me. If the intention was there and I had all the resources necessary to get it done, but I still didn't do it, then it must not have been important enough.

Luckily, making something important enough is easy: you simply decide it's important enough, understand why it's important, and then follow up with action. Repeat those three steps frequently enough and eventually a habit will form. 

I decided today that writing here is important enough to put aside other things. I understood why it's important: I need to share, to grow. The last part, action, is taking place right now, as I write this entry. This is me repeating those three steps. This is important.

Dreaming big or just big enough?

If you always felt you were born to do something big, something really, really big -- something so big that your existence would end up shifting human history and leaving a dent in the fabric of time -- what would you do? 

Would you think about what your best career options were, what things you were good at, and go from there?

Would you stress out over money or financial concerns or hunker down and save your money?

Would you focus on doing things that made you comfortable or ensured that people would like you?

Would you limit your focus to things that you could achieve this lifetime?

Would you be realistic?

Or would you think about the biggest, most crazy thing you could imagine? Something that seemed so unlikely for a single human being to achieve but that, when you thought about it or talked about it, filled you with spine-tingling, eye-watering, goosebump-making surges of energy that seemed to emanate from some unknown source deep inside?

That thing that despite being so unrealistic and crazy lingered on your mind, hour after hour, day after day, week after week.

If you ever asked me in person to share my biggest dream, I'd probably tell you that I would like to reach the end of my life and see humanity more connected and forward-looking, to have an end to poverty, hunger, and inequality at least somewhere in sight, and to know that my actions played at least a small role in making that movement happen.

But if you asked me again, what's my biggest, craziest, most wild dream, I'd likely change my answer.

I'd tell you that I'd like to see humanity not only more connected and in tune with nature, but also exploring and stretching off planet Earth. I'd want to stand on planet Mars before I die and feel that humanity as a whole finally recognizes its precious potential. 

I'd like to witness the beginnings of humanity-level cooperation taking place, pushing the human species forward together to eliminate silly things like poverty, hunger, and inequality so that we, as a species, can move on to bigger and more important things like exploring the universe, not just the universe around us, but also within us.

This is Star Trek type stuff, yes, but if you really asked me what my biggest, craziest dream was, that's what I'd honestly tell you. I'd like to know that I played a part in moving the human race forward, towards something that my intuition tells me we'll eventually arrive at anyway.

But you'd never guess any of that reading my writing or even communicating with me online. In fact, very few of my actions in life really reflect that level of thinking.

Why? 

Because I gave up on that dream long ago. It was too unrealistic, too "out there". If I was going to use my potential for something great, why would I throw it at something so preposterous?

Following that thinking was always a series of justifications, a train of logical reasoning to back up the impossibility of that thinking:

"I'd need to become heavily involved in entrepreneurship and business and investing and money... I just don't like any of those enough to do something big with them."

"I'd probably need an engineering degree and that would be too much of a time commitment... I'm too old and my time is running out fast."

"If I failed to achieve my dream, I will have wasted my time and energy."

"If I fail, all my potential, my whole life, will have been for nothing."

"Nobody else is doing this kind of stuff -- or even attempting it -- so it must be unachievable and silly to even consider."

I've gone through this process more times than I can count -- throughout my whole life -- often justifying the process itself by telling myself that some dreams really are just too big, but that it's healthy to think about them anyway. 

However something changed in the past year. Before I returned home from India last year, I won a chance to see one of the last Space Shuttle launches in Florida. 

That experience led me to connect with a whole new circle of friends who were passionate about space and who lived with those futuristic dreams on their minds every single day. 

Those events led to my learning about Elon Musk, the founder of PayPal who, with a real passion not focused on being entrepreneurial and making money but for making humanity a multi-planetary species, went on to found SpaceX, now the leading private space company in the world.

Yes! That's exactly what I should be doing! But (and here's where the fear and self-doubt steps in)...

"That's just not me..."

"Space exploration is so disconnected from the immediate humanitarian needs here on Earth that I really care about..."

"I can't possibly focus on addressing world poverty if I'm focused on getting people into space..."

"Elon Musk was rich and had tons of money to start with... I'd be starting with nothing and that would make it impossible..."

But Elon is moving the human race forward.

He's chasing his seemingly impossible dream because that's what he believes he should be doing. He's running his business the way he believes it should be run, telling employees and investors face-to-face that he and his business are not in it for the money but for the legacy of humanity.

In the past year I've connected with so many people who are fascinated with space and I've learned about people like Elon who are taking their dreams and pushing them forward. 

All of this has rekindled within me the "impossible" dreams that I've held inside for so long. It's made me reconsider them and start asking myself questions about what I'm doing and why I'm here on Earth.

Why can't I become someone who builds businesses that determine their success not based on monetary profit but rather on the welfare of the human species as a whole? 

A space company that addresses humanitarian needs? Why not? So what if nobody else has done it or if nobody thinks it would work.

Steve Jobs said, "stay hungry, stay foolish". Perhaps to really stay hungry we need to chase dreams that are unrealistic and seemingly impossible; perhaps to stay foolish we need to believe in dreams that seem a little crazy but that call to us, like a whisper from the future, asking us to do the impossible.

Design by Imitation and Rethinking Complexity

After launching this Journal a few weeks ago, I realized that I was beginning to diverge from the simplicity I so highly valued on my site. I now had Thoughts and Reflections, Essays and Journals, Poems and Marginalia.

I found myself feeling more and more suffocated by the complexity. Should I publish this as an Essay or a Reflection? What if the writing was informative but not reflective? Do all my Reflections need to be reflective? Do all my Essays need to be long?

Leonardo Da Vinci said that simplicity is the ultimate sophistication. I think in my attempt to simplify, I added unnecessary complexity by assuming that I was adding sophistication.

The complexity became a creative barrier that discouraged me from remaining open-minded. Instead of just writing, I had to write and think inside boxes.

I didn't want that! I wanted to stretch and breathe, to write and share.

The idea for segregating my writing was born earlier this year when I learned about a new feature in WordPress 3.0: Custom Post Types.

The old way of displaying different types of content in WordPress was messy: If I wanted to publish 'Thoughts' and show them separately from regular posts, I needed to create a category called 'Thoughts' and then hack the WordPress theme to display posts in that category separately from regular posts.

With Custom Post Types however, my writing could be logically separated into different types. Instead of fiddling with Categories, I could simply create a new post type, publish my writing there, and then use the standard WordPress templates to design how the content should appear.

(In retrospect I realized that this thinking was a classic example of discovering a new tool and then looking for, or creating, a problem to solve with the tool -- a common habit that sneaks up on engineers.)

How could I simplify my approach? What could I learn from others? How were other online writers organizing their published work?

Seth Godin writes different length posts but doesn't separate his blog post writing into different types; he publishes different lengths and calls them one thing.

There was no need to separate my writing into Essays, Reflections, and Poems. I write poems so infrequently that publishing them as Essays will be fine. So, I got rid of Reflections and Poems and combined them into Essays.

My home page was previously set up to show my latest Thought, Reflection/Poem, and Essay, but what I really wanted it to achieve was a quick overview of my published content, a clear method of subscribing, and a clear way of connecting with me -- a long list of my essays wouldn't achieve that.

How could I simplify my approach? What could I learn from online publishers whose home pages I loved?

Craig Mod has a beautifully simple home page. His liberal use of whitespace makes things clear and it encourages you to scroll down and explore.

You'll notice how the further down you go, the denser the content gets -- the further you commit to exploring, the more content he gives you.

Photo: Craig Mod's Home Page

I also love how when you hover over his name at the top, you're presented with a clear way of connecting with him on Twitter and Google+.

Photo: Craig Mod's Header

I now had ideas for home page simplicity, but I still needed a way to present my latest work. Even though I had simplified my types of writing, I still had Essays, Journals, Thoughts, and Margin Notes to work with.

How could I display my recent work in a list format that was easy to read?

Chris Pearson's sidebar contains lists of various posts in beautifully color-coded sections. I love how the color of each section is reinforced when you hover over the items in that list. The angled cut on each header also makes them easier on the eyes.

Photo: Chris Pearson's Sidebar

Using those design ideas, I sat down yesterday and spent 10 hours redesigning my home page.

I tried Chris' colored headers, but I realized they were too loud for my style.

I didn't like Craig's Twitter and Google+ buttons at the top of the page, so I put mine at the bottom.

Photo: My New Recently Published List

Photo: My New Subscribe Area

Photo: My New Connect Area

My home page now feels congruent with my core style of simplicity and cleanliness and it solves the problem of presenting my latest content. I started with a clean slate, took ideas that I loved from other designs, and added my own twist.

When it comes to design, much of what I create is inspired by something or someone else. When I come across a design or element of style that I find aesthetically appealing, I stop and ask myself why I find it appealing.

Understanding why something looks nice -- or why something is comfortable, or why something is easy to use -- not only helps me better understand good design, it also helps me understand myself.

I often tell people that I'm not a designer, but I'm beginning to believe that we're all designers in one way or another.

To design is to envision something that isn't there and then pull together pieces of the universe to create it. The more we understand ourselves and the world around us -- the more we release what we think we already know -- the better designers we will be.

This extends to other areas of life as well: If we don't understand why we do, or do not, enjoy something, then how can we effectively design our life?

If we don't know why we're writers, or coaches, or designers, or programmers, or explorers, or entrepreneurs, or connectors, or yoga teachers, how can we pull together the pieces of the universe necessary to live a life in harmony with what makes us who we are?

Following Through

In martial arts, instructors teach us to punch and kick through our target. Instead of aiming for the bullseye on the kicking pad, we're told to aim for the area six inches behind it so that when our fist or foot comes into contact with the pad, we won't slow down or hold back our strength.

This lesson is especially important when learning to break bricks. If we don't drive through the area that appears to be the stopping point, the bricks won't break; our fist will.

In life, we need to aim for something beyond the stopping point of death. We need to aim for targets and goals that we cannot actually realize within our lifetimes but which through aiming for will ensure that our potential is fully realized.

If we go through life undervaluing our potential and holding back, our life will be filled with waypoints of disappointment and a sense of loss will accompany the passing of each easily achievable goal as we release it to continue moving forward.

If instead we set goals with the understanding that we're capable of so much more, then our short-term goals will feel more like meaningful steps along the path and the achievement of those goals will come with a sense of joy, fulfillment, and anticipation for what comes next.

Death is an easy target. It's a focus point that we can all assume we're headed towards, whether we aim for it or not. But that's no excuse for undervaluing our potential, setting short-sighted goals, or passing the buck to the next generation. Life shouldn't stop short of death, it should follow through it.

Accepting Responsibility

You're sitting at a cafe in one of two armchairs; a coffee table separates you and the stranger in the adjoining seat. A few minutes pass and the stranger leaves, forgetting to take his empty cup from the table.

After some time, another stranger sits down. He's holding several books and a hot cup of coffee. The empty cup on the table is in his way, but with no knowledge of who the cup belongs to, he doesn't want to touch it; he probably assumes it's yours.

Whose responsibility is the empty cup?

It's easy to ignore responsibility when we can pass it off to someone else (especially if that person isn't around), but if we can alleviate suffering or provide assistance -- no matter how little -- we automatically inherit the responsibility to do so.

(This applies even if the suffering is directed at the same person who failed to be responsible: if we see a wallet or purse left behind, we feel responsibile to provide assistance by turning it in.)

The motivation to act comes easily when we witness suffering firsthand: the innate human elements of empathy and compassion allow us to sense when we are, without doubt, responsible to act.

But when things are a little less clear -- when our lack of responsibility can go unnoticed -- it's easy to conclude that "it's not my problem" and move on. This can happen even if we are able to solve the problem or be part of the solution.

We ignore dirty dishes in the sink, trash on the sidewalk, and the shy person at the party. We convince ourselves that we deserve to suffer, that we're incapable of changing, or that we're just not lucky. We push aside thoughts of poverty in India, inequality in Africa, or starvation the world over because “it’s too big; someone else will fix it; it’s not my problem.”

Except it is our problem, because we can do something to change it.

Love and Purpose

What's the ultimate purpose of life? When you strip away everything, what's left?

I looked up from my laptop and stared out the window to watch the final five minutes of the sun set over the city of Boston. As often happens, questions began popping into my head. What did it all mean? The sun, the Earth, the beautiful colors in the sky. What was the point of all this?

There has always been a piece of me that felt my purpose for being here on Earth was not going to involve starting a family, but suddenly I found myself wondering if that was really the case. I started imagining what it would be like to get married and have kids.

Was my stubborn persistence and vow to always follow my heart causing me to miss out on something really important? Was starting a family part of the purpose for existence? Will my life have been worth living if I don't make procreation a priority?

After the last sliver of orange disappeared over the horizon, I returned to my laptop and posed the question on Twitter and Facebook: What's the ultimate purpose of life? Continue reading →