Linked book

"The Magic of Thinking Big" (1959)
By: Dr. David Schwartz

A bit old, but fun and quirky in its own way. Would recommend.

For the sake of play

That is the subject of Stephen T. Asma's essay today in the NY-Times. Personally, I find my life more enjoyable when I can drop all pretense of productivity and do things for their own sake. Below is an excerpt:

"The stakes for play are higher than we think. Play is a way of beingthat resists the instrumental, expedient mode of existence. In play, we do not measure ourselves in terms of tangible productivity (extrinsic value), but instead, our physical and mental lives have intrinsic value of their own. It provides the source from which other extrinsic goods flow and eventually return. 

When we see an activity like music as merely a “key to success,” we shortchange it and ourselves. Playing a musical instrument is both the pursuit of fulfillment and the very thing itself (the actualizing of potential). Playing, or even listening, in this case, is a kind of unique, embodied contemplation that can feed both the mind and the body."

The full piece can be read here.

a thought

Some days just don't go well.

And sometimes those days go on for a while--for weeks, or months, or more.

It is a natural part of life.

So let's be real, and accept how things are.

Let's be optimistic, and focus on what can be done.

Step by step, we'll make it through.

Some experiences and impressions from Denmark

A week has passed since I arrived in Denmark, where I've spent the interval amongst good friends in what has proven to be a beautiful stretch of Scandanvian weather.  A bit of color has found its way into my cheeks, such that back home one might think I'd ventured to the Carribean rather than the north of Europe. The local fare has proven plentiful and good, and occasions to walk and run have been numerous. We've trekked up hills, along sand-dunes, through knarled forests, and along sandy paths leading to the shore. By degrees, the grass is greening over here, the trees are laden heavily with buds, and flowers of many colors and shapes are now in bloom. 

The last few days have been spent in Aalborg. It's a city of modest size in the north of Jutland, nestled amongst a series of hills at a point where the Limfjord narrows in its course through the country.  We arrived there after several days, having stayed or travelled through Copenhagen, Roskilde, Rørbit, and Arhus. A great deal of land (and sea) was traversed in the process. The fast-ferry to Arhus proved particularly novel, shooting across narrow sea between Sjælland and Jutland at a surprising speed, considering the ship's size and girth. Along the highway from Arhus to Aalborg were many large farms, and tall, white windmills, with large twirling arms in great frequency.

A number of personal "first" have occurred on this adventure; for example, I tried a bit of Danish liquor called snaps, which is traditionally imbibed at the start of certain meals--in this case, Easter. Of this beverage, I can only say that it didn't burn as much as Irish whiskey whilst going down, but it was strong enough for its purposes. It so happens that this particular brand is made in Aalborg, and upon arriving in the city, it was not long before I encountered the distillery in which it was made. 

I also went off into the city on my own for the first time, using my limited Danish to navigate, and even pick up some groceries for the flat where I've been staying. Despite my lack of vocabulary, it has been noteworthy at how much less foreign the place feels once one has a bit of language under one's belt. 

I'm also using a Danish keyboard for the first time to write this, which isn't too different from an American on, but different enough to require some adjustment (image here)

Yesterday, I also ran with a local running club. There were perhaps 15 or 20 people in attendance, ranging from about my age and up. We left from the center of Aalborg, crossing to the north side of the fjord, where there is a muncipality called Nørresundby. There, near the water, is a long, flat stretch of road and paved footpath, where after a warm-up and some sprint-drills we did 4x5min at 5km pace. It's been a while since I've done any sort of running workout, but given the circumstances I think it went well. The man in charge of the club was by far the fastest--he related to me during the warm-up that he hoped to run about 2:55 at the Hamburg marathon later this month. Needless to say, there was no chance I was keeping up with him. Instead, I stuck to within twenty yards of the next two fastest guys, both a deal older than me, and by my reckoning, much more fit. The weather was sunny and warm, and the fjord sparkled in the late-afternoon light. 

Some days ago, I was walking with my host toward a place in Aalborg called Signal Hill, where many years ago a steamship company operated a tower for the purpose of signalling when one of their ships had appeared down the fjord. Now, at an intersection along the way we came upon a mound of cinnamon, with much more of the stuff scattered all about. As it turns out, there is a tradition in Denmark that if one is not married by 25, one's friends are obliged to pour cinnamon over you--for what purpose, I cannot say, and it is apparently more common in some places than others. As it is, I've encountered cinnamon in the streets on two other occasions whilst here, suggesting that up in Aalborg at least, the tradition is common enough, (here is a relevant image).

Speaking of Signal Hill, after seeing the city from its peak in daylight, my host took me back there last night to see the place in the dark. There aren't many city lights as one approaches the hill, and as the moon had not yet risen, I found the going dark and difficult. Yet climbing through the cool, humid night-air of Aalborg, the sight that greeted me from the top was moving in the extreme. In all directions the view is open and clear, and one can see many miles from that vantage. The night was quiet, and the sky full of stars. We remained atop that hill for several minutes before heading home. 

There is much else of interest that has happened to me in Denmark, and I have still a few days more here, but those are some experiences and impressions I've had thus far. We'll see what the coming days bring. 

Happy Thursday :)

A thought

There seem to be certain choices that are difficult to make in the moment, but which once made in consistent fashion, lead to happier results in the future. It is a challenge, but perhaps a worthy one of our energies.

What I've been reading

"The Lone Samurai: The Life of Miyamoto Musashi" (2013), by William Scott Wilson.

I stumbled upon this one recently in my old university library, and found the first few chapters interesting enough to find my own copy and read the entire thing. The work reads quickly, but requires some background knowledge of medieval Japanese history and of the various Buddhist traditions that took root there. Also, there were times when Wilson seemed to pile on so many names in quick succession that it became easy to get lost (this comes from someone who finds Japanese names difficult to pronounce and remember). Still, I felt the book to be well worth reading, and came away with many impressions of Musashi (1584-1645) as a swordsman, idealist, artist, and wanderer.

Here is an excerpt from the book:

Except for short periods when he stayed in Kyoto or various castle towns and the last five years of his life in Kumamoto, Musashi spent his life on the road. Travel broadened his perspective on his environment and on human nature, as it would for the traveler-poet Basho nearly a century later. Although many people traveled the roads of Japan at this time, Musashi was far more observant than the average sojourner. His paintings, The Book of Five Rings, and the story of his life all bespeak of a man who dismissed no experience and who noted everything that crossed his path. When he enjoined his disciples not to turn their backs, 'on the various Ways of the world,' he was speaking of far more than just formal studies. The life of a traveler was Musashi's way of ensuring that he would continue to have broadening experiences. A safe position with a local daimyo could never have provided him the same opportunities. 

"Endurance: Shackleton's Incredible Voyage" (1999), by Alfred Lansing.

I'm about two-thirds of the way through this one, and enjoying it. The book is very thoroughly researched, and Lansing does a good job of taking us along on the expedition with Shackleton and his crew. The narrative is very detailed, at times covering events from almost every hour for several days in a row. It's an interesting approach, and gives it a different feel from a typical history.

If the story of Shackleton and the expedition he led interests you, this is an excellent book.

A Gratitude Journal Experiment

Every once in a while, I stumble upon an activity or habit that feels so natural and rewarding to do that I wonder how it took so long to start. Examples from my own life include drawing, daily walks, and keeping a journal. Each of these activities has proven challenging in good ways, and personally very fulfilling.

More recently, I came across this wikipedia entry on "gratitude journals," and decided to try keeping one for a few weeks and see what happened. I was very surprised by the result, though given the research done on this particular exercise, perhaps I shouldn't have been. There's a surprising amount of research of the subject of these journals, and the evidence seems fairly robust regarding its utility:

Empirical research suggests that keeping a gratitude journal has a positive effect on one's psychological, physical, and emotional well being. Regularly recording 3-10 things that one is grateful for can improve and strengthen one's physical and psychological health. 

Gratitude journals can also be beneficial as an addition to psychotherapy or clinical treatment to decrease symptoms of depression, increase happiness, and increase overall well being.

So for my experiment, once a week (usually Friday), I would take a moment to brainstorm at least three things for which I had lately been grateful. Typically I'd list around five or six, but my goal each time was at least three.  "Family," "friends," and "health," often came to mind, but so too did less common ones like "free-time," and "the ozone-layer." It's funny what you think about, large and small, when the subject of gratitude is considered. And it's interesting how an exercise that takes less than two minutes a week to do seemed to improve my mood so markedly, even long after it was performed.

The experiment has gone on for two months now, and throughout I have felt mildly more relaxed than usual, and seemed to experience both an immediate and lasting reduction in stress after performing the gratitude exercise. My experiment can't prove causality in these regards, but I think it does point to the positive effect that expressing gratitude, even just to oneself, can have in one's life. As importantly, perhaps, I like the kind of person I am when gratitude is near to the fore of my thoughts; both in how I feel, and how I interact with others. In this respect, I think the experiment proved worthwhile, and I think I will continue keeping a gratitude journal for the foreseeable future.