Category: Books

Posted on

Habits are synthetic

DSC06184_11-25-2017

I have started reading “Better Than Before” by Gretchen Rubin, and in the introduction, she writes that habits are powerful because they eliminate the necessity of decision-making, which, she also argues, is a finite resource. Basically, you make decision once and then follow a habitual sequence of steps to the desired result without thinking about the individual steps.

This reminded me of the “Creation and Destruction” essay by John Boyd, which I came across a month ago. Boyd was a military strategist and an instructor of fighter pilots. His theory of making creative decisions is based on a continuous loop of analysis (destruction) of the current reality (and one’s mental model of it) and synthesis (creation) of a new and improved mental model. In this context, a habit, as Rubin describes it, is a synthetic process – you don’t analyze the components of a habit, but instead string them together into one complex action.

Acting without thinking, but in a way appropriate to the situation is, of course, a central concept in martial arts. In kendo, it is called mushin. And just as an everyday habit, the instinctive reaction in a fight is developed through repeated practice.

Being a fairly universal principle, habit-forming can be applied practically to everything. For example, in photography, say, I decide that I want to freeze action of dancers during a performance. I select a ‘fast’ lens, open the aperture wide, set the shutter speed high, autofocus – to continuous tracking mode, framing rate – to ‘high’ and from that point on worry only about composition and catching the dynamic moments. Actually, even this preliminary setup becomes habitual with practice. I only need to think ‘freeze action’, and the rest happens more or less on autopilot.

Of course, as Gretchen Rubin also mentions, habits are great servants, but terrible masters. They makes us more efficient, but in doing so rob us of the actual experience of the action. When you hit a pause on Boyds Observation-Orientation-Decision-Action (OODA) loop and delegate part of the sequence to a habit, you sacrifice present-moment awareness. Autopilots, after all, are not famous for their creativity.

DSC02800_10-21-2017-Edit

Posted on

Arc of a hero (chihuahua)

DSC07306_10-07-2017

My daughter and I decided to make a new picture book based on the pretend-play that she does every day in the car on her way to school.

We made our first (still unpublished) book about a Girl and an Egg in a very unstructured way by sketching up new scenes as the story was progressing over the days, without a particular plan to begin with. It was a fun and pressure free way to make stuff up, but it was a bit challenging to wrap things up into a story that would make sense to anyone besides the two of us and my wife, who was literally playing an active role in all the reenactments.

Not only we had fun making the first book, but we gained some experience, and I wanted to put together some kind of an outline, so that we would have a structure to play within. So before even sketching the main character, I decided to make storyboard for the book.

I also noticed that in our games we might have a beginning of a hero’s journey type of a story, which is described in Joseph Campbell’s seminal book “The Hero with a Thousand Faces”. This is structure that has apparently been followed by many of my favourite books and movies from “Star Wars” to the “Wizard of Oz”.

So even though we are still at the blank canvas stage, we are potentially in a good company as far as stories go. Oh, and our main character is a pet chihuahua.

DSC07332_10-07-2017

IMG_0104_10-07-2017

IMG_0103_10-07-2017

Posted on

Too present to learn

DSC02020_08-21-2017

“You can’t think and hit at the same time.”

– Yogi Berra

I wonder, wouldn’t it be super-productive to apply my analytical skills to learning a physical skill? For example, I could use a fundamental studying technique like note-taking for learning kendo or violin-playing.

However, this is obvious and easy only in principle. In reality, I find that practicing a martial art or music requires so much focus and present-moment awareness that I literally remember very little to take notes of after practice. All my energy, both physical and mental, is spent on doing the thing, not on thinking about it. In fact, I am surprised how some people can ask questions during a kendo practice. Not that that find the answers obvious (mostly, quite the opposite) or the behaviour awkward (even though the structure of a typical kendo practice is not conducive to question-and-answer sessions, we are not in Japan after all). I just don’t find that beyond the very basic level, intellectual understanding of a particular technique is helpful for making progress. It feels like practice is needed at the moment, not another explanation.

I recently came upon a similar reflection in a book I’ve been reading, “A Man in Love” by Karl Ove Knausgaard (which is a fantastic book, by the way – I can’t say that I enjoy any particular aspect of it, and the story is not exciting, but somehow I just know it’s a modern masterpiece, and I cannot stop reading it). There, a writer friend of the main character describes his experience of writing about and training with professional boxers: “You know, the boxers I wrote about had an incredible presence. But that meant they weren’t spectators of themselves, so they didn’t remember anything. Not a thing! Share the moment with me here and now. That was their offer.”

Having said all this, I think there is a way of harnessing the power of analysis. In fact, this is how progress usually happens – at the juncture of previously disjointed fields. Just look at Bruce Lee’s notebooks with all the detailed sketches and notes on the physical, psychological and philosophical aspects of his practice. I think the idea is to separate the two activities in time. Practice first, analyze later. To paraphrase Yogi Berra, you cannot think while hitting, but you can think about how you’ve just hit.

In fact, I was probably wrong, when I said that couldn’t remember anything about the last night’s practice. After all, there are established techniques for helping me remember, to improve my ability to remember:

  • Verbalize the learned concep. If I learned only one thing during last practice, what is that? Assigning words to the idea captures it and gives it some substance. Now it can be studied and analyzed.
  • Do this soon after practice (within the first 24 hours). Make a written note of what you learn.
  • Revisit the note before the next lesson, so you can build upon what you’ve learned during the practice.

In the case of violin practice, things are even simpler – my teacher takes notes while I practice and gives them to me after the lesson.

All these suggestions sound incredibly simple and obvious. This is what we teach our students, who study math, physics and engineering.

Obvious – definitely. Simple? I find them easier said than done. But if nothing else, learning this way is a practice itself.

DSC05039

DSC03928_08-27-2017

Posted on

Work or hobby?

DSC07756_05-27-2017-Edit

“First comes interest.”
— Angela Duckworth.

My former PhD advisor used to tell his graduate students that in order to develop expertise in one’s field of research, the study itself, i.e. reading scientific papers, working out the details of math and physics, has to become a hobby. This is what Richard Feynman called “The Pleasure of Finding Things Out”.

I recalled this as I have been reading an excellent book by Angela Duckworth called “Grit” on the importance of stick-to-it-iveness and ways of cultivating it. One point that she makes, which is kind of a truism if you think about it, is that it is easier to stick to something if you love what you do, i.e. if you have a personal interest in the subject.

What is less obvious is that this interest develops gradually. For example, I don’t expect my students to be gung ho about fluid mechanics right away, even at the graduate level. Likewise, my daughter didn’t have much enthusiasm for her first golf lessons.

Curiously, and conversely, what initially starts as an exciting personal interest inevitably acquires less enjoyable (read ‘boring’) aspects of a real job. With photography, for example, they say that to become a professional photographer is a sure way to kill a good hobby.

Personally, I am glad to have an opportunity to do photography at a professional level. I think that it adds a lot of quality to the craft, both technically and in terms of the purpose. It is satisfying to know that my photos have a life beyond my hard disk. This is the answer to the all-important “Why?” question that keeps me chipping away at processing a high-wolume dance photo shoot or getting out to a late-night basketball game.

DSC09314

Posted on

How to go down in history: being the first or the last

img_6553

In a recent interview, Chuck Klosterman, the author of “Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs”, mentioned that while it is difficult to predict, which musician/artist/scientist would be considered the most historically important figure of the current period many years from now, it is unlikely that it would be someone, who is considered as the leader of his/her field right now. Klosterman suggests that in order to have retrospective historical weight, an author (or a piece of art, scientific work, etc.) needs to meet at least one of the two criteria: he/she/it needs to offer true innovation, i.e. to be the first the first ever in the specific field, or he/she/it must represent the culmination of the development of the field that changes how people think, i.e. to be the last in the field – the finishing touch that completes it and points to a fundamentally new paradigm.

Basically, history likes those who are are either the first or the last in their area of work.

This concept has some parallels with the strategy for creating innovations outlined by Cal Newport in “Deep Work”: be on the leading edge of your field and then look just beyond it using patterns similar to those that exist (and are already known) in other fields.

aa5q6649_08-02-2016

Of course, following the Newport’s strategy does not guarantee that the future generations will pick your work as singularly significant. However, stepping beyond the leading edge of your field gives you the chance to be the first in a completely new area, while getting to the leading edge gives you the chance to be the last in your field – the one who applies the unifying finishing touch to the existing body of work.

There are a couple of implications of this concept. First, you cannot be a narrow specialist. In order to apply known patterns from other areas, you need to have at least some knowledge of the fields beside your own area of expertise. As Miyamoto Musashi wrote in his famous “The Book of Five Rings, “Develop intuitive judgement and understanding for everything.”

Second, you cannot be a pure generalist either. You need to specialize in something in order to develop the deep expertise that would enable you to do cutting edge work in this area. Becoming an expert of that caliber is, of course, the hardest part of the process.

img_6396

Posted on

Active waiting vs. procrastination

Moss Street Paint-in, July 16, 2016.

I have a copy of Robert Boyce’s “Advice for New Faculty Members” sitting on a shelf on top of my desk at home. As I was looking for an excuse avoid working on a research paper, I decided to flip through it. The book has been tremendously helpful during my first yeast at the university in terms of setting a framework for best practices in allocating time and efforts in teaching and research. The most effective practices are all laid out there in plain sight, supported by (sometimes too much of) statistical data.

Regarding writing in particular (as this is what I was avoiding) the first point that Boice makes is that it pays off not to rush into pouring words on the page. Instead, the best writers wait until they have sufficiently played with the ideas and supporting material in their heads to actually have something to say in their manuscripts. I was quite pleased with this idea: my procrastination was actually supposed to be productive in some indirect way.

There is a difference, however, between “active waiting’, how Boice calls it, and simply avoiding work. The former is a conscious, mindful process. It sets the stage for more efficient work.

AA5Q5973_07-19-2016

In my experience, active writing is absolutely crucial in a creative process. Photography or painting are great examples. Without some planning and taking time to create a mental representation the photo shoot or a painting season becomes a mindless going through the motions, a naive practice, to borrow a term from Anders Ericsson.

In kendo, the active waiting is formalized in the pre-practice ritual in the form of mokuso, a brief period of group meditation. Ironically, the meaning of it is not often discussed in modern dojos, as we are too focussed on getting to the practice itself, i.e. to literally just going through the motions.

Moss Street Paint-in, July 16, 2016.

Posted on

Purposeful practice

23031512711_95e0d259c9_k

Anders Ericsson explains in his book “Peak” that simply repeating things over and over again does not lead to controls improvement (in fact, it is a recipe for stagnation). Ericsson differentiates between “naive practice”, “purposeful practice” and “deliberate practice”, in the order of sofistication and effectiveness. Basically, repeating something without focusing on a specific area of improvement is naive practice. In contrast, purposeful practice requires analysis of one’s progress and working out ways through or around the roadblocks that inevitably occurs once the current limit of ability is reached. The powerful message of Ericsson’s book is, of course, the argument that people’s minds and bodies are adaptable in way that a “natural” limit or ability can, in fact, be expanded. This means that we, in a sense, can increase our own “talent”.

Naturally, it would be great to spend our days with purpose, i. e. having a clear and specific goal to work towards. in the words of Annie Dillard, “how we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.” This is easier said then done, though. First, the really high-level goal is quite elusive – after all, we may be talking about the meaning of life. Second, it can be argued that continuously operating in the productivity mode is, ironically unproductive in the long run.

However, in specific situations, for example, developing a photography technique, it is quite easy to practise purposefully. All that is needed is a clear, attainable goal (e.g. learn to recognize and act upon photo opportunities suitable for using a phone camera in daily life), and a measure of progress (e.g. number of photos taken each day and, perhaps, feedback from peers on the selected ones).

IMG_6278

Posted on

Monkey see, monkey scoot

Scooters are a big thing among my daughter’s preschool friends. Some time ago, we offered to buy her one, but she was not interested. Then one day, she saw a friend riding a Micro kickboard, and she could not wait to get one of her own. The next day, she rode it to school, and the following day, two more girls convinced their parents to buy the very same scooters (including the colour – it seems that pink and purple are the only two choices worth considering for four- and five-year old girls).

Naturally, a scooter had to be incorporated into the illustrated story that my daughter and I are making with a lot of help from my wife, who is the main actress in the re-enactment, playing the roles of nearly all characters (sometimes, simultaneously.

Here is the scooting episode.

“The Girl lent her scooter to the Baby Dinosaur, so that she could keep up with her friends. It was a purple scooter, with pink handlebars – Ella’s favourite colours! It turned out that Ella was a natural at scooting. It was handy to have four legs – when one of them got tired of pushing, she would witch to one of the other three.”

Girl_and_egg_04-26-2016

Posted on

Ups and downs

Any serious athlete would tell that motivation is easy to attain but difficult to sustain. This is true in creative activities too. For example, writers are famous for elaborate rituals they design to avoid procrastination and to ensure regular productivity. And quantity is indeed important if we hope to generate quality at some point. Adam Grant gives an example in his “Originals“, showing that most popular composers were also the most productive, with very rare exceptions.

Sustaining motivation in the audience is a slightly different matter. In order to keep the readers/viewers evaded, they should be exposed to a more-or-less continuous flow of material that is, at the same time, familiar and novel.

My four-year-old daughter and I are working through these issues in the picture book that we are making up (she creates the storyline through her make-believe games that she plays with her mom and I sketch it up). Sometimes, our motivation wavers, but we know that if we keep going, interesting things are bound to happen, just as in the book itself. Here is the latest episode about the newborn dinosaur discovering the world and her place in it.

“Baby Ella wanted to play with her new friends, but first, she had to learn how to walk. That was not easy, especially because she didn’t want to leave her cozy eggshell. The Girl gently nudged her to place one foot on the ground…”

Girl_and_egg_04-17-2016

Posted on

Social network

In the picture story that I have been drawing in collaboration with my daughter, based on her make-believe games, new characters are introduced almost on every page. Perhaps, this is not surprising, since the main character is a baby dinosaur, who, being a child like her creator, is being exposed to the world for the first time and is building her social network. Here is the latest episode, which I drew, very fittingly, as my daughter was playing at her friend’s birthday party.

“The Baby Bunny also came to visit the Baby Dinosaur. The Bunny and the Baby Squirrel waited patiently until Ella woke up and showed her the presents they brought: the carrot and the flower.

The friends wanted to play with Ella, but she had to remind them that she was only one-day-old and although she could was exceptionally smart and could speak perfectly well, she was still not sure if she could walk.”

IMG_0041