Tuesday, July 16, 2019

Inevitable rebellions

From "Five Letters from an Eastern Empire" by Alasdair Gray (my emphasis):
I said, 'Was there a rebellion?'
 
'We are so sure there was one that we did not inquire about the matter. The old capital was a market for the empire. When the court came here we brought the market with us. The citizens left behind had three choices. They could starve to death, or beg in the streets of other towns, or rebel. The brave and intelligent among them must have dreamed of rebellion. They probably talked about it. Which is conspiracy."

A little book I picked up second-hand, missives from an imagined land. Give me a shout in the next week if you'd like to read it and I'll send it on to you.


Picture of the book "Five Letters from an Eastern Empire"

Friday, June 28, 2019

A Fortnight at Forty: What I discovered on a 2-week break

This is a fairly long, often personal, sometimes pretentious post about the fortnight I've just taken off for my own retreat/reflection purposes. It's meant for my own self, ultimately, but I wanted to publish it in the open too - partly because I think it helps to solidify thoughts, and partly because it might be of interest to others thinking about doing the same thing. Or who just enjoy stalking me.

For completeness, I shall copy it over to my Medium feed as well. 

What did I get up to?


Perhaps it is poor form to start off with so much detail, and in such an unchronological order. But then, detail is the easiest thing to write about. And time is anything but linear, once we start jumping between memories. So take this part as pure documentary - there is no particular aim, analysis or intent at this point. To reflect, first we must let things be, so we can see them as they really are.

It has been 9 days ‘off life’ now. 1 more after this. The fortnight was a present to myself, on the cusp of my 5th decade, and the last few years have been a ride and a half. It felt like … not a ‘good’ moment, but the ‘right’ moment to take a step back. Reflection runs through me, and I’ve learned over the years that stopping is generally the best way to move forwards. We humans are upside-down, cursed creatures of brain first, and body second - a few weeks away from deadlines and pressures, is nothing when set against the era of a lifetime or the eternity of a planet.

On the very first day - last Monday - I deliberately started out by just sitting in the garden for a while. As a ‘believer in symbolism’ as a way of life, I - hopefully unpretentiously? - let myself be guided by the I Ching when I am at things-that-look-like-crossroads, and that day felt like it made sense. Tucked into the shade under a tree, armed with pen and paper and coin, I generated my reading ‘Little Accumulation’.

Of those other 8 days, 2 were always earmarked for my weekly, scheduled time to look after #son2. As he starts to mutate into school age, these days are oddly getting more and more precious. These weeks, where I've had time to think about change, have hit me pretty hard in good and bad ways.

I spent one of the days in London, visiting the British Museum with my mum to see their Manga exhibition, and managed to take in their temporary shows too - one on symbolic art, one on Rembrandt’s sketches, and one on avant-garde postcards. After the museum, I caught up with my ex-colleague Obi, long-term chatter but first-time meeter Richard, and all round open data star Giuseppe. It was a day full of jovial chat, data, and culture, and was definitely the right choice.

One day I spent stomping up Seaford Head, over to Cuckmere Haven, and all the way back again. Technically, it’s a short walk, but the views and escapes make a massive difference. I documented barriers and took photos through an old Ferrero Rocher box. Semi-accidental projects in the making. The breeze kept me strident, and I noticed again how the cliff had disappeared just that bit more than last time. All the while, thoughts circulated through my brain, driven on by each step, and the physicality of the day etched itself into me.

Another day I spent cracking on with a small zine, formed of pictures from the old dockyards at Portsmouth. This has been on mind for a while and I wanted to get it out of the way - but it was everything to return to working with my hands. The texture of photos, projected into the fibres of the paper, creased, scored, and cut to produce the right shape, populated with margins and a bespoke narrative. A touch of twine to bind it together. I shall make more of these.

Last Friday was a rest day - a rest from a rest? But yes, because every idea needs time to foment and prove. Just because the brain is not engaged doesn’t mean the ideas don’t go to work. In the garden, tomato seeds were starting to break out of their soil chambers, tiny leaves cracking through the surface to see what dangers lurked. This day was also the summer solstice.

Yesterday I felt the tiredness, and snoozed on the train into Brighton. The Writing Our Legacy committee met to make plans and swap stories, and I felt out of place and at home at the same time.

And then, the last of those 9 days is today. I wanted to get something down, start bringing thoughts together into something … coherent? Before the sense of routine came back. I started again with the I Ching. ‘Mutual Influence’ this time, the first gua in the Lower Canon, which deals with the ways of humans rather than of the universe. Talk of ‘good fortune’ gave me confidence. And now I am sitting in the library garden, tapping away. A Spitfire is circling the downs among the outlines of seagulls. Tiny magics.

(Day 10 is tomorrow. I need to get the car fixed so its airbag doesn’t shatter my head in an accident, but I suspect I’ll also be writing up more of these notes.)

How can you get the most out of some time off?

A quick word on my approach. Perhaps this is of interest to some, or of use to me one day in the future, maybe in another 10 years?

I think that there is an “art” to reflecting. What am I trying to do in this time off? How can I make sure I’m free from distractions and undue influence? But also, how can I make sure I’m not ignoring my responsibilities which remain regardless?

This time can be divided into a few, simple purposes:
  1. The Past: Tidying, clearing out the old and no-longer-needed.
  2. The Present: Reflection, taking stock of where and who one actually is.
  3. The Future: Exploration, the chance to find alternatives and potential.
It is important to get the right balance between these, to make deliberate time for each, and then to know in any one moment whether one should be dealing with the memory, awareness, or imagination.

When dealing with the present, do nothing. The mind is inherently smart - or aware, conscious of all the demands being placed on it and of its own context. All that is needed is to stop going off on tangents, to spend some time being freed up from the worry of what has happened already, or from the worry or desire to do something else.

When dealing with the past, be ruthless. The past is a big place, and we are constantly trying to make sense of it. Some things make more sense than others, and these can be ignored. Some things are more of a puzzle, though. No worry. Identify what these things are, know them as a source of confusion, but it is likely they will be so until you’ve found the right perspective to see them. Catalogue them like lost toys.

When looking at the future, be precious. As the days to come are unwritten, they are full of promise - and therefore full of excitement. It is easy to get drawn into a thousand things which are merely fresh, or ‘something other than what is’. But ideas by themselves are cheap, and novelty value is easily dismissed once ideas get difficult. Explore ideas, but don’t commit to any yet. The present is more important.

Some other short practical notes.
  • Get a small notebook, just for jotting down thoughts and exploring ideas. Settling into a rhythm can take several days, multiple sleeps, and it can be helpful to keep notes that can be joined up as you go.
  • Brainstorm a bunch of stuff you’re interested in before you start - topics, questions, ideas, etc. You don’t need to explore all of them, but it helps to open up and then clear the brain.
  • Block out full days and/or half days for particular things. Even if you don’t have a clear aim in mind, treating time itself like a mini-project can get you into a more focused frame of mind, and help you to know when to move on.

 

So, what did I learn?

The more personal section, huh? And in theory this part is really only of interest to me. Maybe I won’t even publish this, but print it out on Vellum, burn it, and store the sacred ashes under my pillow to absorb them as pure dream matter. Maybe.

A few recent media snippets have lodged themselves in my head over the fortnight.:

  1. Dan Barrett’s tweet on the nature of discovering other’s suffering:
“In my 30s I was bowled over when I realised that being a grown up isn’t a thing and it felt profound but I reckon the realisation in my 40s that everybody’s barely holding it together is a bigger deal. Hugs everybody.”
  1. Reto’s reply to my rant about a local tree being destroyed:
“it means that the person who did it is suffering. it’s out of frustration that someone does that. it says that there is much to be done and people like you are needed to relieve the suffering. don’t give up.”
  1. The (internal) conversation that followed, resulting in the term ‘mendicant anarchist’:
“Something about the term ‘mendicant anarchist’ has impacted me. Learning to take blows and anger is an important healing tool. Been a rough 12 hours, but feel like I’ve turned some sort of corner.”
(Seriously, the Ganesha mastodon instance has been instrumental in my thoughts recently.)

  1. And finally, this quote from ‘Fist of Legend’ starring Jet Li:
“The ultimate goal of Martial Arts is to maximise one’s energy. If you want to achieve this ultimate goal, you need to understand the soul of the universe.”

And here are the thoughts and realisations that I’ve noted down, in some non-sensical yet vaguely narrative order:
  • People depend on me. Writing it out, it’s one of those things that seems obvious, when you’re a Director and a Head of Something and a Parent and Husband and all these other hats. But when you’re in the thick of it - balancing plates and making sandwiches and arguing and writing documents and even fixing (or causing) the odd bug - the scalability gets at you. Things are non-stop, or if they do stop then you’re on watch.

    More importantly, this is something I’ve chosen to do. And I’m good at it.
  • It’s OK to be a rock. That sense of dependency is something I started out my notes with. I separated out what I do from why I do it, and wrote ‘root root root root…’ down underneath it all. It’s a theme I carry across whatever I do - tai chi teaches us to establish a firm connection with the ground, so that our movements are powerful and connected, whether we’re using our hands, a sword, a fan, a brush, or a keyboard. For an organisation, it translates into the rationale, mission and values behind people showing up at the door.

    For life, it’s about stability, and resilience. These are two distinct things really - stability lets people build something more while resilience helps absorb shocks to the system. I feel like I provide stability and resilience as a service, almost, if it’s not too base to bring such industrial speak into this.

    But it’s never been something I’ve consciously done. I do it because I care, but it’s tiring and my butterfly brain always wants to look into the future and do new and exciting things.

    Being a rock is more important than being a butterfly.
  • A mountain is a place of nurturing. My second I Ching reading, Mutual Influence, brought this relationship between rocks and nurturing home for me. ‘Lake above, Mountain below.’ The mountain - in hexagram terms, only one step away from pure yin - supports the flow, heat and potential of the lake above it. Earth is the middle, grounding force across the five Chinese elements. A stable platform, a place where things grow and ecosystems form.

    In effect, a mountain is a host, which was something I realised I enjoy doing. I am more interested in creating a space for people to play than in telling them what to play, or in winning. Certain things prevent me from setting this space up as much as I like, in all areas, which I should address. But up until now, I hadn’t appreciated the link between hosting and everything else as much. Now I think it’s fundamental to it all.

    I ended up writing ‘Foundation’ many times in my notebook over the last two weeks, deliberately and accidentally. I wrote ‘Fundamental’ once, just now, in the paragraph above. But really, they’re the same root, aren’t they?
  • With roots, there is nothing to fear. Actually, for all the talk of rocks and mountains, it’s hard to distinguish between solid earth and the roots that grow within it. The same strength flows through both - the roots simply borrow their stability from the same forces that make up the earth. When the earth crumbles, the roots are weak.

    Being a rock is more important than being a butterfly - stability and resilience let you know where you exist, which gives you the power to not just absorb things, but to explore them in greater detail. All events have origins, all effects have causes. When our heart is rooted and stable, our senses are free to take a more considered approach to all the things trying to uproot us. Incoming anger, fear, and undue influence. These are all temporary effects.

And … So what?


So, I am freshly 40 and allegedly having a mid-life crisis ;-) The last few years have been hectic and transformative. It doesn’t get much “easier” from here on, but I think I have a way forward now.

I want to build foundations to let people grow and develop - family, team members, colleagues, and everyone else. But probably in that order.

I want to be bold enough to face up to struggles, but I also want to tackle those struggles with empathy and listening rather than direct problem-solving and suggestions. Receptive rather than normative.

I want to bring people together, find common ground, establish reinforcing feedback patterns that create groups rather than divide them. Groups often need healing as much as individuals do.

And above all, I want to wake up and remember that I’m doing a good job, that people depend on me, that I’m making a difference. Because I am.

Wednesday, May 15, 2019

A Few Links

Hello. This blog hasn't seen much action. It's not because I've been learning Chinese, sadly. Although I have re-kindled my love for tai chi.

In case you're not subscribed to the full RSS feed, I've mostly been posting over at 6suns about solar power, for example this recent post about a solar-powered RSS feed reader client - I'll post more about the idea here soon. And I'm also over at Disposable Evidence, for random e-postcards with a monochrome feel.

I've been enjoying both quite a lot, and it's kind of fun that each outlet taps into a different audience. The solarpunk side has kicked off a few nice conversations from my eco/tao-related Mastodon account: https://ganesha.masto.host/@scribe, for instance. It feels more rewarding to engage in deeper conversations with smaller groups. It also means I forget who I'm talking to, and where I've posted. I'm loving that chaos, TBH.

In an act of synchronicity, James linked to this Vice article about airpods, disposable tech and status, and then Paul linked immediately after (in my feeds) to this post about the myth of convenience. This stuff has been on my mind a lot recently, alongside the solarpunk stuff. Years ago, I even tried tracking the duration of use of my devices, but I got afraid it just turned into something a bit 'look at my kit'. It's an interesting exercise though. I like extending the life of tech for as long as possible, like a challenge, and I've started to form some tenets around this. Something like:
  • Re-use: Avoid buying new as much as possible
  • Rejuvenate: Aim for upgradeable, fixable tech
  • Review: Am I getting focused stuff out of my tech? Do I know what I want it for, on a personal level, or is it just a distraction? A convenience?
Lastly, 65daysofstatic are playing with a new subscription model. If you're a fan of mathpunk glitch synth, then subscribe here.

Catch you on the flipside of 40...

A Passport to the Unseen Winds

Hmm, I think I might know what my next long-term photo project might be...


Windmills always remind me of Miyazaki's Nausicaa, and I still feel kind of proud whenever I see the wind farm off the shore of our beach.


The wind itself is something weirdly magical. So ever-present, yet always invisible. I have to remind myself I only ever feel its effects, and never get to experience it as a Pure Thing, not like a bicycle or a coin. Wind exists, it seems, on a higher level. A noun that is there, yet isn't.

Is the wind we hear in our ears the same as the wind we feel on our faces?

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

Automation as Shinto imitation and integration

Wendy M Grossman looks at modern robotics, and picks up on something I've been vaguely thinking about recently - the difference between automation replacing people, and augmenting people.

Replacing people feel like a naturally capitalist thing to do, because people are expensive, because they need to buy things but do this inefficiently. They're at the fat edge of the consumer cycle, and so capitalism needs to decouple the "wealthy" consumer from the "cheap" mode of production as much as possible - to integrate them is to just fatten up your own production line and (literally) eat into profits.

Integration, on the other hand, is about being human - humans as tool-users, and tool-users but not just to make for profit but also to make for creativity, for experimentation, and for reflection. Tools as a means of investigation of the self.

It's this deliberate confusion between humans, tools, and the world around "us" that I love about shinto - that spirits are everywhere, because perhaps we ourselves are just meat inhabited by spirits too. We never chose to be this way, so what stops us from being merely a ghost in a machine? Why only apply the software/hardware terms to things we have created?

As Wendy notes (emphasis added):

"Later, three Japanese academics... tried to explain why Japanese people like robots so much - more, it seems, than "we" do (whoever "we" are). They suggested three theories: the influence of TV and manga; the influence of the mainstream Shinto religion, which sees a spirit in everything; and the Japanese government strategy to make the country a robotics powerhouse.

...

"Japanese people don't like to draw distinctions and place clear lines"

Tuesday, January 08, 2019

Hello Janus: A 2018 / 2019 round-up

From the year-long 'Blatchington Pond' project


[Written in] These dying days of 2018. Another year of memories, stacked up like scrolls. Not a particular time for reflection, among the scrapings of wrapping paper, other than I have a few days – hours even – to stop doing anything, and the self-assessment comes naturally.

Looking back


The year has been busy – time of life maybe, but also unsustainable and unsatisfying in dappled patches. Parts have been productive and eye-opening, but more to set the stage for the show ahead, rather than anything in their own right.

In a slightly random order, I…

  • Pushed through on some big deadlines at work, to different levels of celebration
  • Iterated through another year of setting strategy and supporting my team, enjoying both aspects – see my ongoing weeknotes
  • Ran a session at UKGovCamp in January on distribution of data skills, then failed miserably to do anything concrete about it :(
  • Gave out a fair number of small Dalai Lama books under the new Taopunk Paper Goat umbrella (and in fact a whole new website), and discovered a lovely stream of reciprocity
  • Had some great meetups with too many people to mention, but all appreciated
  • Gave a talk at Sussex University’s Humanities Lab’s event on Democratising Big Data, on “Trust and Ethics in the Data Supply Chain” (slides here)
  • Gave a talk at #son1’s primary school [on census and geographic data], which was hilarious, and probably scarier than giving a talk to academics… (slides here)
  • Ran my phone and digital watch off solar power only for 7 months, and started a blog about it
  • Took a lot of photos of Blatchington Pond as part of a year-long series, which now need some follow-up action (along with a few other longer-term photo projects)
  • Started running Linux on my new personal laptop again, which still carries a strange sense of pride after all these years

Looking Forward


I have some vague plans for the year ahead, although because I’m turning 40, they’re probably less vague than most of my plans. I’m expecting things to evolve a bit, but I’m still thinking and talking this through a bit. I feel very ‘involved’ in what happens around me, and also hate to leave people in difficult positions, so I tend to approach change with a fair amount of “diplomacy”. Anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot over the last few months on how to give up less-valued responsibilities, to do things I care about more. Hopefully this will bear fruit in the next six months.

Going into January, I’m also highly aware of that annual festive build-up of books, magazines, and general good-reads in my RSS feeds from the year. There’s a lot of material that I’d like to re-focus some attention on right now, and I’m at a point where that depth of engagement seems very timely.

(Broadly speaking – tao, tech, democracy and climate change are of high interest right now.)

In general, I think the solar power exercise mentioned above has been of huge impact. I’m much more aware of ‘casual’ and ‘disposable’ use of energy (both mine and my battery’s) on smartphones. I’ve come round even more to the idea that the convenience of smartphones is really just a way to cram more stuff badly, into less time and space. The whole setup – that we should do everything through a bad interface – just feels so unsustainable now.

So alongside getting into content into more depth again (like my Uni days), I want to get back into my interfaces in more ‘depth’ again. I love keyboards – there I’ve said it. There’s a mechanical feedback there which makes me feel part of the machine, and I miss that in touch-screens. I feel so separated.

So here are my personal goals at the moment. The first 3 are behavioural ones – changes I’d like to see in myself. The last 3 are more project-based.

  • Relax and not worry about keeping people pleased all the time
  • Be more open about things I need to do, so I can make more time for them
  • Spend more time reading books than social media
  • Learn Chinese finally, using my own approach to it
  • Make solar power a habit, and find that difficult second album for next stages
  • Put together 2 decent sized but achievable photo projects, and 3 smaller zines

And here are my professional goals this year:

  • Find a way to be ruthless about email
  • Spend personal time at work to relax and read
  • Spend more time thinking and observing – strategy and support
  • Clear up cruft in processes
  • Be more open internally about my own work and the team’s work
  • Be calmer about asking for things and negotiating change
  • Bring together the people that should talk more

Let’s see how it goes. Come on 2019, I’m feeling good about this one!

A curious species


I am staring up at the stars with a glass of whisky, because I can.

Seems strange how the universe is so big, and yet we get so preoccupied with such bagatelles in life.

Yet, what is it to appreciate the universe? And how afraid are we when that privilege of appreciation is threatened to be taken away from us?

We get so wrapped up in this fear - to the extent that it overwhelms us. Everything we do becomes about protecting our ability to appreciate. It’s so very human, so lovable.

Out stories become dramas. Our fights become meta. We sacrifice our own appreciation so that others may have theirs.

Seen in this light, so much human action becomes understandable, perhaps even forgivable. That so much of our virtues and our sins come from this love for reflection, for awareness, for our desire not to be happy, but to recognise that we can be happy.

Such a curious species.