Tag Archives: metaphor

The learning cliff

Whenever I am talking to new or potentially new employees of our online school I share the idea of a learning cliff. We all know about a learning curve… when you are learning something new, there is an effort you have to exert as you gain knowledge and learn how to use new systems and tools available to you. There’s a slow uphill climb to learn the new job. But some jobs have a few too many systems to learn just by doing things once. I call this the learning cliff.

In a new position you’ll inevitably get to a point where you don’t know how to do something and you need to ask for help: This is true for both the learning curve and the learning cliff… With the learning curve , you ask, you learn, and you don’t need to ask again. But in an organization where too many things are new, you try to absorb so much information at once that you don’t actually remember the help you got the next time you have to deal with the same situation… You asked, you got the help you needed, but you didn’t actually learn because your brain was taxed with too much new information to retain one more thing. So a few hours, days, or weeks later you have to ask the same question again.

You’ve left the learning curve and hit the learning cliff. I tell my new employees that with so many new systems to learn, we have all hit those cliffs and every one of us knows you will too. So, ask again. Ask a third time. We won’t judge. We remember hitting the cliff ourselves. We know you feel bad having to ask again when you feel you should know. We know you can’t, just like we couldn’t, remember everything and need to ask again. We expect it and want to assist you.

A learning cliff is not a scalable slope without help, so let us help you over the edge, and when you come back to the same issue, or a new one, and it’s still not a traversable slope… ask again. We are expecting it and happy to help.

Baked just right

It would have been harder 150 years ago to bake bread or a cake to perfection. There were no thermometers in the oven, few clocks to tell how long it was in the oven, no real way to regulate the heat. It was an art as much as a science.

That idea of being baked just right comes to mind when I think about our universe. So many things had to be just right to ‘cook up’ our existence. If we live in a multiverse with countless other universes, it is likely most of them would harbour conditions impossible for a planet like earth to exist. This is for some people a way to reconcile their belief in an omnipotent and omnipresent God. For without the divine intervention of a ‘designer’ we could not exist.

But for me this is simply a game of numbers. In the billions of universes in a multiverse, we were the lottery winners. We won the grand prize of being able to harbour consciousness in a universe among so many others that did not have the right ingredients, did not have the right conditions, and/or were baked for too long or not long enough.

We exist because our universe was baked just right. And the fact that it was right enough for us, suggests to me that it is right enough on another not-so-near-by planet. We probably aren’t alone in this universe, but our universe is probably lonely in comparison to other universes.

We might not be the only one, but just like we are alone in our galaxy, our university is probably alone in being baked to perfection… for us. Maybe there are some nitrogen breathing conscious beings in another universe writing about the crazy possibility of oxygen breathing beings in a universe like ours?

We probably won’t need a couple hundred more years to figure this out. We are too inquisitive and we keep looking out into the universe and asking complex questions beyond my understanding. What I do understand is that we live in a universe that was baked well enough to produce us, and while we may not be baked to perfection, we are the lottery winners (or likely one of very few lottery winners) in the multiverse.

History Repeats

We went to see a theatre performance of Fiddler On The Roof last night. The story ends with the Ukrainian Jews being kicked off their lands and dispersed across Europe and to America. After the show the lead star said that last night’s performance, and all of their performances, were dedicated to the Ukrainian people.

It makes me realize that we are not a truly civilized species. We fight over land and over resources. We kill in the name of God and Country. We judge based on skin colour and cultural differences. We act like unruly children against each other and we allow ourselves to repeat historical errors, none the wiser that lessons could have been learned.

We might have bigger brains, but we are no better than warring ant colonies, or a rutting animal fighting for dominance. We are animals pretending to be civilized. Power corrupts and corruption leads to injustice, and injustice undermines civility. We let history repeat itself because politics is more important that people and countries matter more than compassion.

Starting a new school year

As a kid I didn’t enjoy the first days of the school year. I feared getting into a class without any of my small group of friends, and then even if we got in the same class, the seating plan would separate us. I worried about who my teachers would be and if I’d like them.

Once in class with all my updated supplies, I always found it hard to start writing in a new workbook.

Even after writing my name and the subject on the cover that first blank page was daunting. My first words written were not the start of a new adventure, but rather the destruction of something perfect… and the start of a lot of work ahead that I wasn’t very excited about.

Now as an adult, I get excited about the metaphorical ‘blank page’ that the new school year brings. The year ahead has no blemishes, only an open book to be written in. The empty pages hold so much promise. The adventure ahead is real, unknown, and unrealized.

The year holds potential, it has promise, and it sits before us, students and educators alike, waiting for us to seize it. There are some nerves, even a little apprehension, but the open book is there before us and it is exciting… we just have to get the first few words out of the way.

In preparation

How much time do we spend in preparation for something that is coming up? A simple example is a meal, and all the prep work that needs to be done before the meal is made. There is also tidy up time before guests arrive, reading to do before a meeting, personal grooming, and travel time. It occurred to me that we spend a lot of time preparing for events, and in some cases we spend more time in preparation than we do at the actual event we prepared for.

Two thoughts come to mind. First, we ought to find joy in preparation. Cooking is an excellent example of this, it’s not just the consuming of the final product but the joy of getting all the ingredients cut and cooked that we can savour. Can a fun event start for us as we shower and shave, and get ourselves ready? If we are going to spend so much of our lives in preparation for something upcoming, how can we find more joy in this time?

The second thought is about daily exercise. When we aren’t athletes training for, preparing for, an upcoming event, how do we perceive such activity? Exercise is really just preparation for a better tomorrow. It is the accumulation of a healthy lifestyle that pays dividends in the future. It is the preparation for a future life that is more active and vibrant than a sedentary life would promise.

We spend a lot of time in preparation for something else, this preparation time is an opportunity to find joy, to feel accomplishment, and not just a chore to get through on the way to something else. Cooking prep isn’t work, it’s putting love into the food you make for people you care about. Workouts are work, and if done right they are hard, but you can find joy in pushing yourself to new goals, and feel the endorphins a good workout can bring. Life is not about preparation for other things, life is found in the preparation.

Feeling the earth spin

This morning I sat in my gazebo for my meditation. The sun was shining and I took my shirt off to enjoy the the heat and natural vitamin D. Where I sat, the sun rose to the point that the top of the gazebo ever so slowly shielded my face from direct sunlight. I felt my face cool. I saw the brightness diminish through my eyelids.

It occurred to me that I was experiencing the rotation of the earth. I wasn’t witnessing the rising of the sun… Instead, I was feeling the earth revolve. My positioning allowed me to have both a visual and tactile experience of our massive planet making it’s 24 hour spin on its axis. Even as I write this, my chin is no longer in the sun and the shadow of the gazebo is slowing making its way down my neck.

This morning I got to feel the spin of the earth. At once I am simultaneously reminded of how insignificant I am in the universe, and how unique I am to be sentient and to be able to experience such a beautiful moment, which only I had and no other sentient being had at that moment.

This morning I felt the earth spin, and it was magnificent.

Being rudderless

The idea of being rudderless suggests being at the whim of the tides; of not being in control. But have you ever meet anyone who just goes with the flow and everything just works out for them? One person has something challenging happen and they become a ‘Karen’, whining and complaining, and making a scene. Another person has a very similar situation occur, and not only does it not bother them, but they end up getting better assistance or service than would be expected.

For some people bring rudderless means floundering and being a victim of circumstance. For others, being rudderless means they get to ride the waves and travel to places most others only dream of going.

Our societies and cultures teach us to be driven and to steer our way through life, but sometimes I think we spend too much time trying to steer and not enough time going with the flow. We need to have a rudder, but maybe we don’t need to use it so aggressively… Let the universe lead us where we need to go.

Chores with headphones

Yesterday I cut the grass and cleaned out my hot tub. Two boring jobs that aren’t hard, but take a bit of time to do. I did them both with headphones on, listening to a spy novel series I’ve been enjoying the past couple weeks. I was able to listen to the last couple hours of book two and then start book three.

It’s amazing what a shift in attitude I have towards menial jobs when I’m listening to a book. Music doesn’t do this for me, but a good book or long format podcast does. Suddenly the job is a physical distraction that allows me to keep my focus on what I’m listening to. I find it hard to sit and do nothing for too long while listening to a book. I also can’t do something that involves a lot of thinking while listening to a book or my mind wonders and I need to rewind and listen again.

Simple chores (and driving) are the perfect things to do when listening to a good book or podcast. I enjoy doing the task more, and I enjoy the book I’m listening too as well. It’s my chores equivalent to pairing a good wine with dinner… it makes both things more enjoyable.

Weeding

I spent some time weeding my in-laws garden yesterday. I put on headphones and an audiobook, and just went to work for a few hours. It’s not a job I have to do often and so I enjoyed the process, but I wouldn’t enjoy gardening every day and weeding all the time.

It’s interesting to see how weeds can really blossom when they find a space to grow and spread. They can take over a section of a garden, spreading far faster and wider than the intended flowers, creating a root system that ensures their return unless the entire plant is removed.

I think addiction is like that in the mind. It takes over a part of the brain and takes root. You can try to remove the addiction, you can do some addiction weeding, but if there are roots of it left behind, you relapse and the addiction returns.

I’ve only ever met one person who had an addiction who I think got all the weeds out. He was not someone who had to fight the addiction daily, he didn’t have to do any more weeding. I asked him about this and he said he filled the space that the addiction held. He planted new seeds.

He found a way to fill the deep seeded needs the addiction gave him. For him it was love, of family and life, which brought him more joy than the addiction. He grew a new garden that prevented the weeds from taking root.

I have not dealt with addiction, I have not had to fight the battle that others fight daily… but I wonder if the idea that every day you must weed out the addiction is the best model? Are there ways to plant new gardens so the old weeds can’t take hold?

There are some therapies that seem to be able to do this, like the guided use of psychedelics, which seem to rip all the weeds out; Which rewire the brain so that weeds can’t grow where they used to take root.

I know programs like the 12-step program work and have saved many people from addictions, but they are designed to teach you that you must weed daily for the rest of your life… I wonder what other ways there are to weed, such that life can go forward with new healthy roots that reduce the need for daily work?

Any easy question to ponder when you aren’t the one that has to do the weeding every day.

Lines in the sand

I recently listened to ‘Awareness‘ by Anthony De Mello. In this book, which is actually an audio recording of him speaking to an audience, he shared a story that goes something like this:

An Indian man is imprisoned in Pakistan. His captors take him on a field trip to see his homeland. They drive him into the countryside and pull up to a ridge overlooking a beautiful valley. The passenger of the truck points out to the valley and says, “Behold, your homeland.”

The prisoner sheds tears of joy as he looks out at the forested valley, looking upon his motherland. A couple minutes later, after conferring with the driver, the man who pointed out his homeland says, “Our driver made a mistake, we aren’t at the border yet, we have to travel another 30 minutes to the South-East.”

It’s amazing alarming how much we pay attention to worry over lines in the sand.

Neighbors – 1952