I’ve seen this book, but really didn’t think it would interest me. This week I watched a video from the TED conference in Monterrey, California and it was amazing. Though you guys might want to see it as well.
If it doesn’t play click here
I’ve seen this book, but really didn’t think it would interest me. This week I watched a video from the TED conference in Monterrey, California and it was amazing. Though you guys might want to see it as well.
If it doesn’t play click here
This is a question that I’ve been asked lately. The core is whether to suppress emotion because it’s bad or lean to channel it in a right way. A lot can be said about emotions, but in the spirit of brief blogging I’ll get straight to the point.
Emotions are distinctly attached to what DeMello calls the “me” (not to be confused with the “I”) “Me” is the ego apparatus that we construct throughout our lives and to a great extent find attachment to. Emotions can cause a problematic swing when left unobserved, but can, when observed lead us to great insight about ourselves and the way we interact with people.
That said, the intent of emotion is an amplification of a feeling. Some feelings like fear, greed and envy are symptoms of a need for control. In this case emotions act as a warning sign to deeper areas needing attention.
Emotion, however, can be useful in bringing some people across the chasm of their doubts and fears. It is only then that some people can detach and observe their life and begin to “see” things as they really are. They begin to understand that many of their problems are either illusions or created by themselves.
Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” When we live an unobserved life we allow the script of our lives to be written by others, discussed by others and edited by others. Only when we choose to “watch” the actions of our lives can we hope to “have life and have it more abundantly.”
I’ve written quite a bit about the importance of being balanced. I feel that to find success in any area of life, balance must be a part of the equation. But what kind of balance? Sometimes I can sit outside or take a day off or go somewhere else and feel like I have found balance. I can begin to hear my internal dialogue and interior silence grow. I can even have the beginnings of an enraptured feeling where I think I have it “all figured out”.
Is what I’m feeling true or not? You’ve probably experienced this before and wondered the same thing. I think that the only way we know if we are in balance is to be in balance in the regular rhythms of life.
Moments of self-discovery are essential, but can actually be detrimental if we lead a life hopping from one of those moments to another. Everything in life is balanced on the pivot of “now”. I have no control over event in the recent or far past; neither do I have any control over things yet to happen. The only place that I have any ability to “do” anything is right here, right now.
If the only way I can feel “in balance” is to escape living life in community, I have become severely off balance in both perspective and execution of life.
John Maeda is becoming a mentor-at-large. He had a conversation with a colleague about insecurity. And I think it has great significance on the idea of real balance. He said, “The thing about insecurity, is that if you are too insecure, then you don’t grow – because you’re paralyzed by fear of failure. On the other hand, if you have no insecurity, then you don’t grow either – because your head is so big you can’t recognize your failures.” The colleague replied, “Balance in all.” John continued, “If you are in the middle, however, you have to shift towards the edges and oscillate a bit in order to know if you are centered.” He responded, “You can get lost in the middle. You need mentors to give you courage.”
To this John questioned, “But all your mentors tend to go away as you age.” The answer, “Yes, because you don’t need them anymore.”
The key is to embrace the oscillation around center/balance, always checking that the pendulum doesn’t swing too far in any direction.
John Maeda is a genius. One of the most enlightening things I’ve read in a while is his idea concerning small and large items and our expectations about something big or something small.
When we find that something small exceeds our expectations we are amazed and will likely say, “I can’t believe all of that came out of such a small thing!” However, when something large exceeds our expectations, our sense of awe is considerably lower. John says, “The smaller the object, the more forgiving we can be when it misbehaves.”
Something that is larger than us demands a rightful respect, but something small deserves our pity. The science of making an object appear fragile is a skill that has been practiced for ages in art. The iPod is a singularly great example of something appearing fragile but exceeding our expectations based on size.
“Pity”, says John, “gives way to respect when much more value is delivered than originally expected.” This is especially true when, through technology, we can hide functionality within simplistic design.
There is even more. When an object is small and simple and functionality is hidden for the owner to manage the items complexity, the object must also convey an embodiment of value.
The combination of these three attributes creates a unique end result. It can bring us to the place where how the things we own feel actually changes how we feel.
John says it best when he says, “Lessen what you can and conceal everything else without losing the sense of inherent value.”
I’m loving the book, “The Art of Simplicity” by John Maeda. The first sentence of the book says, “The easiest way to simplify a system is to remove functionality.” He goes on to use the DVD player as an example. We really only need one button – play, but there are some who would like more, maybe to go back or go forward, still others would like more features.
The balance between simplicity and complexity is the basic question. How simple can it be and how complex does it have to be?
“The simplest way to achieve simplicity is through thoughtful reduction.” When you remove something, just think about it before you do it.
I am thinking about this in terms of life and church. How do we balance simplicity and complexity in those venues? Last week I wrote about the struggle between personal and professional vision. If we continue to add and add more and more we will soon drown in our own “vision”. There has to be a give and take if we are to “thoughtfully reduce”. This concept of reduction is John’s first of ten laws dealing with issues related to simplicity.
I leave you with one more thought coming from page two. When faced with the need to reduce we have to deal with the problem of deciding what lives and what dies. John says that these decisions do not come easy to us because we are not trained to be despots. Our default is to let what is living live. Inevitably we would allow all functionality to stay if we could.
OK we’ve seen the great Tiger win and win and win. Some have said he made a mistake to play while injured, I just think he is an animal. Also, for the record, I don’t think he’ll be out the entire season.
Chip Brown went to Florida in March to take a look at the Woods phenomenon. Brown looked at the relationship between Tiger and us, and how Tigers greatness fulfills a need for greatness the many of us have deep in our hearts.
Brown writes, “You’re writing about a relationship, and you’re projecting on to him. It has to do with what we bring to the theater. If we didn’t bring that ache, that hunger to see him prevail, then we wouldn’t find it answered in Woods. It’s an equation.”
“The subject himself is actually fairly mundane, especially when he doesn’t have a golf club in his hand.” He focuses on the fascinating thing that is created between Woods and his admirers.
“The poet David Ignatow wrote about that ‘wild third thing’, that thing that two people make in concert.” Brown says that the thing that drew him was the “strange equation between the champion and those who venerate him.”
“Truthfully, it seems only a matter of time before Tiger will be known as the greatest golfer who has ever lived. We will be watching him, needing him to be exceptional so that we can feel exceptional also. Tiger is that rare champion who can ‘carry us beyond ourselves.'”
We all know and believe that Jesus had a purpose when He was born and in His death and resurrection He fulfilled His purpose. What does that mean for us when placed over the desire for us to “know our purpose” and to “be like Jesus”?
No I’m not proposing heresy, but I am asking that we look closer to the words we use. Cliches become cliches because of the truth they contain. However, through time, the words can lose their original meaning. Yes we all have a purpose, but it doesn’t mean we have only “one” purpose. Jesus fulfilled His purpose not by dying and being resurrected. He fulfilled His purpose by “doing what He saw His Father doing”, by divesting Himself of His own ego and allowing Himself to become “no-thing” that He might be used to do “some-thing”.
This is where we find the reality of our “purpose in life”. Our purpose is to have no purpose – only to do our Father’s bidding. To allow Paul’s old man to die, is to be released from the bondage to the egoic self, the false self and to “be” who God desires us to “be”.