Pants, Books and Google Chrome

by David Turnbull on March 2, 2010

It’s been a busy time these last few weeks; I’ve been working on a bunch of side projects (more on this in a moment), dealing with no longer having a set posting schedule (early impressions suggest that this was the right choice for long-term sustainability), and I’ve continued deconstructing my life, placing special emphasis on identifying and eliminating background resistance.

But that’s not what the bulk of this post is about. I’m actually heading over to the other side of the country for 10 days about 36 hours after this post goes live, and seeing as I haven’t prepared any article to go live in my absence, I thought I’d shove a bunch of random tid bits in here for your perusal (and to make the wider readership aware of my absence)

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Find a Hole and Fill It

by David Turnbull on February 23, 2010

Digging myself into a deeper hole!

Last year, as I was searching for the opinions of Buddhist monks on business, I found a brilliant story from a Buddhist newsletter, relating to that pesky goal of “finding our calling” in life. This newsletter (which I’ve embedded at the bottom of this post) had one of the most powerful philosophies for the modern world:

Find a hole and fill it.

Entrepreneur’s would notice that a hole could mean a niche market that is not being served. Find that hole, answer the question: what do I need to fill it? And you’ve got yourself a business.

On the other end of the spectrum holes could be personal flaws, or instances of background resistance that don’t affect the wider world but cause you daily suffering. Problems can’t be solved as easily as just reading a statement, but when flaws are transformed into the notion of holes, I feel this imagery makes it less daunting to do so.

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The Minimalist’s Mind: Decluttering Your Brain Waves

by David Turnbull on February 19, 2010

Brain cell(s)

Things. Things. Things. Just as people are too concerned with “stuff” so is the recent upswing of minimalism advice too focused on the “stuff” aspect of simplicity. Yes, getting junk out of the house and acquiring less is important, but really, as most articles centered on this topic will tell you: “Stuff is just stuff.” That idea goes both ways.

Your thoughts are more important than what surrounds you and even a lone ascetic in a cave can live a cluttered life if they’re not mindful of their consciousness and how it behaves on the spectrum of emotion and logic. I feel it’s the mental capacity in which you can simplify that will provide long-term clarity and peace of mind.

This is not about “turning your brain off” (not even the Dalai Lama can do that), but being aware of what’s pervading the flow of your thinking and carefully working towards a life that isn’t inundated with shallow fuzz and mindless fluff.

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the dancing dolphins

At the age of 5 or 6 I had the swimming lessons you’d expect any kid to receive when they live within 10 minutes of the beach. Soon enough I received a certificate as proof that I could swim 30 meters, but even so I never felt comfortable swimming. My memory is foggy of these lessons specifically, but I remember thrashing around, gasping for air and my parents affectionately referring to me as a tadpole while my sister, who was considerably more capable at swimming (but also four years older) was referred to as a dolphin; able to effortlessly glide through the pool.

Swimming wasn’t exactly for me. But I still loved the water. I was hopeless at getting from A to B, but the second I got in the pool I’d swim straight to the bottom and just sit there for a good 20-30 seconds, completely free from anxiety, observing everyone else floating around. Perhaps I’d struggle to save myself from drowning but I wasn’t scared of the water (at least not at pools –  the ocean induced a bit of fear).

In my early teens it was decided that I should have further swimming lessons to rid myself of tadpole-status. I was against the idea, but there was still that hope that perhaps I wouldn’t need to feel ashamed of not being able to properly swim – a feeling amplified by the fact that pretty much all of my friends were quite accomplished swimmers and surfers.

It didn’t go according to plan.

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