Unlearning
January 30, 2008In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities,
in the expert’s mind there are few.”
– Shunryu Suzuki
I’ve been reflecting on this quote a lot. Lately, it seems like I’ve had to unlearn much of what I’ve been taught.
Learning how to write well is a simple example. I learnt to write–like many others I imagine–in an academic, formal and objective manner. I considered myself to be a very articulate and competent writer. But this style of communication no longer serves me well.
I detest gobbledegook, weasle words and spin, and my preference is to read things written in plain english, free of jargon and ambiguity. So why should I expect that readers of my writing are any different?
I’m trying to develop a more open style of communication, aimed at a large, rather than restricted audience. This means using an active voice rather than the passive voice and limiting the number of discjuncts and buzzwords beloved by beauracrats the world over. It’s a work in progress.
My point is that we all have preconceived ideas or have an attachment to concepts, techniques and methods that prevent us from receiving the new. Sometimes learning new things means letting go of something that served you so well for a long time. This may seem like a simple thing to do, but in practice it can be very difficult.
It tests your emotional resilience. It’s really difficult to admit ‘I don’t know what to do’. That feeling when you realise how little you don’t know can be very confronting. But to learn, you have to brave that sense of incompetence and open yourself up to new possibilities. Learning begins with not knowing.
In my case, it’s been a conscious decision to go through a process of unlearning. I hope to emulate a martial arts instructor who has been training for a long period of time. He has a worn and discoloured belt signifying the time he has been training his way back to white belt.
(The white belt is said to signify the purity of the beginners mind).
Memorable quotes - William Shakespeare
January 26, 2008This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
– Hamlet
Signature strengths
January 25, 2008Reading the Cluetrain Manifesto was the nearest thing to having an epiphany that I have personally experienced. It was literally like a light bulb being switched on inside my head. It spoke to me — directly. I have never quite understood why.
For those of you that haven’t read it here’s a couple of lines, that capture its main thesis (emphasis added):
Markets are conversations. Their members communicate in language that is natural, open, honest, direct, funny and often shocking. Whether explaining or complaining, joking or serious, the human voice is unmistakably genuine. It can’t be faked.
Recently I read Martin Seligman’s ‘Authentic Happiness‘ — a seminal work on positive psychology — and as suggested I took a test on the accompanying website to identify my ’signature strengths’.
My top strength according to the test results is: ‘Honesty, authenticity, and genuineness — you are an honest person, not only by speaking the truth but by living your life in a genuine and authentic way. You are down to earth and without pretence; you are a “real” person.’
If these results are to be believed (they feel like the real me, which is Seligman’s criteria for adopting them), then the Cluetrain speaks to me so clearly because it is a convergence or intersection of my interests and passion (internet, technology) and my signature strengths (authenticity, love of learning). Wow!
So, having identified this cosmic collision what should I do with it?
Herein is Seligman’s suggestion for living the good life: ‘use your signature strengths every day in the main realms of your life to bring abundant gratification and authentic happiness‘.
Sounds easy! I can be authentic, genuine and honest, but what practical steps can I take to use these strengths? Or is it enough strive towards using the strengths in what I do?
Memorable Quotes - Albert Einstein
January 9, 2008Nothing will benefit human health and increase chances for survival of life on earth as much as the evolution to a vegetarian diet.
Participating in Amy’s Ride 2008
January 8, 2008On the weekend Tony and I–just as we did this time last year–joined 2,000 other riders to support the Amy Gillett Foundation on Amy’s Ride. The ride supports a great cause–to promote awareness and safety on our roads, and trying to reduce death and injury caused by interaction between cyclists and motorists. And after reading Cadel Evans’ take on his experiences along the Great Ocean Road, what better place to hold ride than around the Bellarine Peninsular?
This year we decided to tackle the 65km course (or 70km according to the Bikely course map), which was a step-up from our 40km-come-20km effort last year.
After a hot couple of days in Melbourne leading up to the event, the weather on the day proved to be almost ideal conditions for riding–mild and overcast–although at times there was quite a strong headwind to contend with, particularly through the coastal areas around Breamlea.
The chosen route was not overly difficult. The climb upwards at Leopold was the most challenging hill, with most of the terrain thereafter pretty flat, open and slightly undulating. The breath-taking scenery on the bluff at Barwon 
Heads was the highlight, with uninterrupted views of the ocean. On the bike you get a real appreciation of the scenery. You can see it, feel it, taste it, smell it and hear it. All of your senses are engaged, compared to witnessing it visually through a 1/4 inch piece of hardened glass in your car. It’s difficult to explain, but it’s almost like you become part of the scenery. I suppose that is a large part of the attraction of cycling for me–feeling closer to nature, and being more at one with the environment.
Having recently completed the Coastal Explorer Ride and getting through the 85km leg on day two comfortably, I went into this ride very confident that the 65km would be a breeze. However, with about 10km to go I started to feel a little soreness in the right thigh. I changed down a cog to make the pedalling a little easier to ride it out for a while. That seemed to work as it came good, and the soreness disappeared. Until, a couple of kilometers later the pain returned and I also started experiencing similar pains in my left thighs. It was cramp. I was completely incapacitated. My left leg ‘locked’ and I just couldn’t move it. I nearly came off my bike, and swinging my leg over the saddle to get off the bike proved a major challenge.
I’ve never experienced anything like it before–not cycling, nor doing any other sport. I can’t say what caused it, although I discovered later when removing my bike from the car rack that I have a slight buckle in the rear wheel of my bike. This causes the brake to grab at the untrue wheel in spots, which I suspect may have added extra load to the energy of pedalling. It’s plausible, but it’s more likely that the cramping was the result of dehydration. Despite carrying two bidons and drinking plenty of fluids during the ride, a few days of hot, dry weather before the ride had taken its toll. A lesson learned for next time!
So, for the last 5 kilometers, I had to put up with Tony chiding me about having to walk up hills and for holding up the team. But despite that–and my ailment–I really enjoyed the ride. It’s a great way to start off the new year and Tony and I got to do an extended GTD review along the way. An exciting year lies ahead.
Perhaps next year it’ll be the 120km course? Those guys passed us at about the 55km mark, putting them a good 60km ahead of us–although we did stop to smell the coffee, take in the magnificent vista and soak up the atmosphere.
