Hard Limits to Knowledge

 There are hard limits to what can be known. I cannot know how long I will live. I cannot know whether a new purchase will make me happy-- or for how long the feeling it produces will last. I cannot know how others react to me, or how I may react to them.

I can form models: 'models of behavior' based on past experience-- and present and future experience in many things don't stray too far from what has already happened.

It is not that there is a limit to knowledge because all things are random, but because many parts of experience have an unknowable degree of randomness to them. Some activities for example, like exercise, have been done in the same ways since the dawn of writing. The greeks started the olympics, no? I know that if I lift a weight I'll get some muscle, or that if I run my stamina will increase over time. But other activities, while most of the time they do not vary, will sometimes spike wildly up or down.

Consider the unexpected dose of humor or sadness or feelings of affection that can stir in one's heart from reading a book. I don't know that these moments will strike me: 99% or more of the time, I don't feel very strongly when reading a book, but then whatever it is hits and I will laugh or cry on the spot. It is this second category of experience where the hard limits of knowledge are most wonderful and also most dangerous.

Taleb calls these two categories of randomness Mediocristan and Extremistan. It's important to know which category a given whatever-it-is is in. Death is in Extremeistan. I didn't die today, or any of those other prior days. So therefore, I won't die tomorrow or any of those other future days, right? Wrong: at some impossible for me to predict time in the future, it's all over. The limits of my knowledge here mean I am certainly in the dark to some degree, no matter how much effort I put into my own safety and longevity.

My laundry comes from Mediocristan: it builds up gradually, it is cleaned regularly. There are no odds that all my clothes will magically become dirty, or that they'll all be cleaned in an instant. There are shifts here: but even the most extreme are visible: all my clothes could become clean in a large enough machine, all my clothes could become dirty if I skipped laundry day for a few months. Though there are shifts and even outliers to laundry, it's all known enough. Known unknowns.

Well, I stepped away from this post and lost my train of thought. So this is it for now. >.<

Rethinking buddhism things and how the internet time restriction is going

In the process of rethinking about buddhism through a less literal and more mythical/interpretative method. (applying general ideas from Rob Bell and Peter Enns on reading the bible outward to other ancient texts that could be viewed as 'mythicized history') The main thing on my mind at this point is that maybe buddhism was less mystical and more practical than I originally thought: maybe meditative states aren't the goal or the thing to be chased: but that the benefits of buddhist practice are primarily in the tangible: the community, the sharing of food, the owning of few things, the focus on inter-personal ethics. Meditation is just a 'no tools' way to stay out of trouble when alone or when doing anything else might be harmful? (a benefit via negativa)

I'm still untangling my thoughts on the above. But the brunt of my time is still devoted to chewing through my library book backlog. Still on Nassim Taleb/Black Swan primarily. I won't attempt to summarize it here: but if you enjoy having long conversations with me about things, it might be good to read it. :P

Still keeping to my one hour of internet a day. Today I've felt less drawn toward connecting at all, and would not have except that I wanted to message a few friends. I'm adjusting to the idea of not looking things up throughout the day-- earlier in the week I was saving questions to google later, but today and yesterday I've felt more ok not having answers. I think being ok with not having answers, or with relying more closely on one's own fallible memory, and asking other people directly if they remember, is a beneficial thing. Beneficial for me at least, because in the past I've gotten harmfully obsessed with knowing every variable and edge case: of a game, of a social situation, of a person, of a historical event, etc. And the deeper one digs the more one uncovers, eh? But there are limits, whether with the internet or without. It's ok to not dig: a tradeoff between sating the hunger for knowledge and starving that same hunger for a little bit of peace through not-knowing-all-the-things.

Tiny post on happiness and habits

 Still doing good. I've thought back over the past month to things I've changed recently that might account for my positive changes in mood/affect. I think friends are still the primary thing: I've been going out twice a week to events, which is good. My food is consistent, I don't keep many sweets at home, I sleep when I am tired and eat when I'm hungry. I have no debts. I take cold showers. I walk every day. I read lots of books-- sometimes this adds up to like 6 hours a day or more. If a book doesn't hook me, I drop it and get another.(the digital lending program of the local library is a wonderful thing) Being online for only one hour a day recently has really pushed my average book reading time to the moon.

There you go: my recipe for happiness in a nutshell. Friends are key. Happiness is nothing if not shared.

Thoughts Spiraling in Many Directions...

Reading today: Contemplative Prayer by Merton, and Black Swan by Nassim Taleb. Have I mentioned that I love Taleb's writing? Very entertaining and he covers the subject of unknown unknowns to a degree that I've not seen done anywhere else.

I think cold showers are perhaps the best thing I've done for myself in a long time. The ability to withstand small systemic shocks (such as the discomfort of a splash of cold water) is perhaps one of the most useful skills to have in life. Am I afraid of being cold for a minute? Do I hesitate? Can I push through it? Is it as bad as I think it will be? The whole lesson is within the activity itself which brings me to another case of that.

Buddhism. Yes, those of you that know me, we've tread this ground before, but now I see it with new eyes. First we'll have to look at the four noble truths:

1. there is suffering(dukkha.: stain/pain/suffering)

2. there is origin of suffering. (our own actions, mental and physical)

3. there is cessation of suffering (all suffering that has an origin has an end)

4. there is a path to the cessation of suffering (see the problem, see the origin, see the end-- the path is the linkage between these, and also the conclusion of truths 1 to 3.)

The thing that feels completely obvious to me now, that was not before is that the system of Buddhism only addresses suffering that can be changed by actions. This lines up with something I read elsewhere, which is that in terms of life satisfaction 50% is genetics, 10% is environment, and 40% is our own actions. Buddhism's methods care primarily about that 40%. Is it not said: do good, don't do evil, train the mind?

I do not think that the buddhist path can be fully attended to by someone who has many things on their mind, or many possessions (see: strings of sensuality) that tie them to the world. If objects lead to identity formation, then fewer objects, and fewer variations between objects, should lead to a firmer sense of identity right? And yes, I'm referring to self-construct here, or the construction of self. (I know, I know, all the stuff about 'no-self.' That's useful in some cases, and being able to fabricate a sturdy identity is useful in others: which is where I'm at right now. Trying to deconstruct and reconstruct my own life.)

Do note that I said: 'fully attended.' Buddhism is still for anyone who wants it, to the degree that they choose to embrace it. In my current thought, I view Buddhism mainly as an extensive form of Dialectics in the sense of discourse, the dialectic method: except that instead of debating with external people, it's about what I tell myself about things, especially past or future events.

Do I think something coming up will be really good? Well, maybe it will be terrible. How can I know? Predictions are very useless the further away the date of an event is from my current point in time. I can make ok predictions about myself, today, tomorrow maybe. But past this it all starts crumbling: the world has far too many parts. It is inconstant, constantly shifting and whirling. This basic idea of thought-counter-thought-- anything can be a good idea or a bad idea, right? So thoughts of the past and future end up being... only very marginally useful.

I can't go forward, or back-- and I can't stay still. So what is there to do? Forget about movement, about where I'm going. I can be here now, or thinking of the future or past. There is a relevant bit in Ecclesiasties, about 'whatever your hands find to do, do it with all your might.' and 'eat, drink and be merry. This is nothing, and we're all going to die.' At this time, I can think these thoughts and strangely, unlike in the past, the idea doesn't make me depressed.

Unfortunately, I'm out of typing time. Or perhaps fortunately, as I've gone all over the place this time. >.<

How much journaling can I do in a half hour? This much!

 The second day of one hour of internet time only. Yesterday, I finished reading 'Goodbye Things' by Fumio Sasaki. It's a good read, though I skimmed the character bios at the front and the bits of the book that read like product/apple advertising overall. The most important takeaway for me, I think, is the idea that whatever I own becomes part of my identity: the implication being that by saying goodbye to many things, maybe I can craft my own more internal identity, that is not tied to things. Or it'll trigger some sort of existential crisis but... well. Doin' it anyway.

I did sort through lots of my things that were hidden out of reach or in drawers. This was something I had already been meaning to do for a long time, but without constant distraction yesterday, I just started in on one area, and then kind of zoned in and spent five hours cleaning. Very necessary. Now I have many things in bags-- I'll let them sit for a while, in case I feel the need to tear into them to rescue something I decide is special... but when I'm ready I expect I'll say goodbye to most of it.

I have also been diving into 'Searching for Sunday' by Rachel Held Evans. Which is good, and well, more relatable than expected. I grew up Mormon, until I one day just stopped going. I wish at that time someone had pulled me aside and had explained to me that there are many ways to interpret the bible, instead of what had happened: I was too smart for my own good, and the literal interpretation was the only way I'd known. Peter Enns and Rob Bell's books discuss a variety of ways to view the bible, if you want to dig more into that sort of thing. I've greatly enjoyed most things I've read or heard by Enns, but that is perhaps because his views align pretty closely already with my own current thoughts, though are backgrounds are very different.

But Searching for Sunday is more about searching for community, dealing with doubt, and what the Church/community IS in the modern day. And maybe why it's dying. And what it could be going forward. It's a long bit of musing and my own doubts and worries overlap somewhat with Held's own, which is perhaps why the book was so popular among so many people. (Or at least, I assume it was? I haven't looked up sales stats or other's reviews, so I don't really know.)

I need to get back to Contemplative Prayer by Merton before my time on the library loan is up...

I am still thinking about Moab. And all the other times I've been to strange places. I think the key to my unhappiness that I've felt during travel has nothing to do with where I'm at physically-- except for being alone. I think it is feeling alone that is the killer of happiness when I travel. Yet I was surrounded by people. So many spoke to me-- all interactions were pleasant.

I know that I want to go back to Moab one day. I would first like to resolve my income issues and actually 'earn' the trip by saving up money. Instead of burning current savings to go, basically. I think that will feel much better as well: to save up, to go with a set budget, acknowledge that it may not be a 'forever move' and be open to what happens, but ready to return to WA if things don't pan out after a few weeks. (basically what I did last time I went. Got injured, slept in hostel, returned to a more familiar place)

On minimalism: I would now actually call myself a minimalist, where in the past I've argued against ascribing this label to my self. So what has changed? I am now intentionally reducing my possessions, and doing so with an eye to keeping their numbers low. But there is a secret. Just because my material possessions are small, does not mean my online presence, my bank balance, my saved pictures, library of kindle books, and etc are going goodbye. I plan to keep a lot of these more intangible things, that do not take up space to 'own', but do require some time to maintain and make use of. Keeping that from consuming me is both challenging and easy: because there is only one portal through which I can benefit or be harmed my the iceberg that is my digital 'stuff.' That is the computer, and the internet.

But I do want to be able to pack up and leave easily if I want to. I don't want to leave lots of things behind that others have to deal with-- or that might tempt me to change how I evaluate situations: to come back to a subpar situation just because 'well I left all this valuable stuff there!'. For me, that is the danger of possessions. I want to be able to settle down as I please, but take lightly to the wind in the event of changes of heart or catastrophic events. Just a feather on the breeze, a bit of vapor on the wind-- after all, I'm only passing through life right?

Thoughts on limited internet use

 I am going to try, going forward, to just have one hour of internet use a day. That's laptop and phone data, primarily. My one hour today includes writing this post directly into blogger's text editor. Why do this? Because I can remember the happiest days of my life. They were days where I had no internet and what felt like unlimited free time. Of course, I am older now with a few more things I have to take care of-- but I can strive to recreate that time. Or to bring that time in the past forward in time to the now.

What prompted me to do this? Partly memory, partly my own realization of just how much time I spend wrapped up in a dopamine drip youtube bubble, and partly some things that Nassim Taleb talks about in Black Swan about how adding more information to a person tends to add more 'noise' in the 'signal to noise ratio' sense. So in some things more information is actually toxic to a person's well being and decision making.

I am not sure how it will go. If I were certain of benefits, I'd already be doing it, right? So it's an experiment for me. Which also doesn't mean it will be 'good for everyone'. Or good for me all the time. It's important to view this sort of experiment as play, not as work.

So how can limited internet time lead me to more play and maybe more joy in my life? That's the big one. :D

Should Should Should

 I should do this. I shouldn't do that. I should be more consistent. I should tackle x, y and z even though I don't want to.

SHOULD: Verb.
1. used to indicate obligation, duty, or correctness, typically when criticizing someone's actions.

Feeling like I should do something should be a clue: ding ding, your bullshit detector is going off. Why do I even feel like I should do this? What happens if I just-- don't?