Categories
Aesthetics

Day 930 and Quantity

I was very kindly tagged in a Twitter thread today with a lovely compliment about my daily writing habits. Does quantity have its own quality? As I close in on a thousand posts I think my answer is a strong “maybe!”

What are your favorite examples of “Quantity has a quality all its own?”
Examples:
@tylercowen writing a post a day, a column a month and a book a year for two decades
Kanye’s “5 beats a day for 3 summers”
Seinfeld’s “Don’t break the chain” one joke a day. Reply from Alan Simon @ almostmedia She’s not for everyone, but she’s been very dedicated and is approaching her 1,000th daily post.

One aspect of creation that is perhaps a bit understudied is just how much it is dominated by the truly prolific. The outliers practice a lot. Every single day I practice because I both enjoy it and I trust that doing a thing over time improves the thing. You can imagine how this predisposition makes me sympathetic to Calvinism.

I credit hippie parenting and the Waldorf curriculum. I was taught early on that it was good to make things even if you sucked at it. So I just spent a lot of my time sucking at creative endeavors and not finding it all that discouraging as I don’t mind being embarrassed.

So I suppose my quantity has demonstrated its own quality in its sheer persistence. Reminding yourself to do a daily practice has its benefits over time if you can stand it. Personally for me writing has always has a kind of blind optimism that has never been beaten out of me. I am a writer. I write. If it every becomes more than that I wouldn’t mind but I don’t need it to. The thing has been it’s own reward.

Categories
Homesteading

Day 909 and Uninterrupted

I’ve got two uninterrupted months in Montana ahead of me. Maybe I mention this as significant because I spent so much time on the road this spring. I’ve also had multiple catastrophic level dislocations professionally and personally in the front half of the year.

Catastrophic dislocation seems to be the new normal for everyone. I hate to consider that I may have some bargaining & denial about my own thesis at chaotic.capital. But I find myself wishing to be wrong about where I see the future heading. Wouldn’t it be better if our modern lives were getting simpler instead of more complex?

I know that’s a childish fantasy. The complexity in our world has brought about so much good. The costs have been high but the benefits were tangible.

And yet here I am hoping to have some uninterrupted time in a quiet corner of the American empire so that I can cultivate my own strengths. I want to reconnect to myself and recovery from the effort, pain, and grief of living. I want to live and work and build without the chaos of history turning back on again. I dislike how much I now believe ignorance to be bliss.

Categories
Emotional Work

Day 903 and Life Goes On

I just didn’t want to write today. I am all over the place with pain and grief even as the world keeps on spinning. I lost someone very important to my family yesterday. A matriarch if you will.

My biometrics are a mess. You can see the stress spiking as I got on calls to both do business and then also discuss the business of life afterwards. Because life does indeed go on. My Whoop said I had 108% more stress today than a typical Thursday if you want to know what grief does to your stress levels.

My Whoop detected grief

I have written so much today on so many other mediums. I’ve texted and direct messages and tweeted and probably wrote several novellas in various group chats. But I just couldn’t make myself write my essay here. So like I would on any other day, I’ll give my myself permission to carry on. I’ll tag this, Tweet it and go to bed and hope I can do more tomorrow.

Categories
Internet Culture

Day 897 and Cruft

I’d like to tell you a short story about my email. I don’t really check it anymore. Like at all. I would like to have a functional inbox but it got out of hand. How out of hand you ask?

As of this morning I had more than 500,000 unread emails in my Gmail. Honestly if I worked at Google I’d be a little freaked out by that number. That seems like a lot of emails. How did that happen you might ask? Slowly and then all at once. Like most bankruptcies.

Let’s start at the beginning. I’ve had a Gmail account since 2004. 1GB of free storage for email? It was 100 times what competitors offered. I knew I’d have to transition out of my university email when I graduated so I kept.

I’d say it was the most functional place in my digital life until 2010 or so. I basically never left my inbox, used Gchat constantly with all my friends, and organized my life around it. Gmail served first central hub for my professional digital identity. It was just where I spent my time.

I worked in commerce and media in I thought it wise to subscribe to brands emails so I could really monitor e-commerce for work. Then I started a cosmetics brand during first cohort of direct to consumer brands. Like all startups we used Google Professional services. So I routed it into one easy Gmail view. Don’t do that incidentally. Then long story short I went on medical leave in 2019.

I’d like you to imagine the J curve on what happened next. Because I have an an older account, and one that used to be tightly managed, I didn’t really notice that I’d converted to a high volume inbox. But you can guess what happens when you stop monitoring constantly. Maybe this post should have had a trigger warning.

It seemed manageable when I was a workaholic hustle grinder. But the second the email beast wasn’t being ridden hard it went feral. Half a million emails feral.

There are so many culprits I could point to in the destruction of my inbox. The arms race for extracting value from email was very much on in the middle of the decade, but it’s gone into overdrive during the pandemic years.

If I thought my email was a little messy when I was girlbossing, it’s nothing compared to the what it looks like under the relentless onslaught of professionally optimized direct marketing.

But there are other culprits. You probably have a social tab like me. I get a lot of automated and social media alerts that were easy to check and delete when I lived inside my email.

But there isn’t a social media platform you can imagine that I didn’t have a profile on. And the alerts add up quickly.

LinkedIn is notorious but I’m also a Twitter power user and maintain a ton of Discords. And then there are social platforms you join and forget about. Yes include OnlyFans. Don’t worry that’s recent and has no content. All those sign ups add up quickly if you don’t monitor. Every god damn social service I have strewn across the internet somehow ends up in Gmail.

The good news is I have a friend who is helping me sort it out. She signed me up for Sane Inbox. The number of emails in that half million that looks like it needs attention? About 1,400. So I will start making an attention payment plan on those. But if I didn’t have nearly two decades of data dedicated to Google I’m not sure if I’d want to dig out.

Categories
Chronic Disease Travel

Day 889 and Soul Delay

A girlfriend asked me if it felt good to be home in Montana. I said I wasn’t sure as my soul hasn’t landed home yet. I think it might be somewhere over the Arctic at the moment.

She knows, now, absolutely, hearing the white noise that is London, that Damien’s theory of jet lag is correct: that her mortal soul is leagues behind her, being reeled in on some ghostly umbilical down the vanished wake of the plane that brought her here, hundreds of thousands of feet above the Atlantic. Souls can’t move that quickly, and are left behind, and must be awaited, upon arrival, like lost luggage.

William Gibson – Pattern Recognition

I don’t feel like I’ve really landed yet even though I’ve been home for a full day. My body is going through various forms of blowback and regression as I resorted to Prednisone while in Europe.

I’m itchy and in pain and simply going about my routines despite it all. Rhythms and processes run my life because I’m a traditionalist. What you do every day is what you become.

Everything physical I do has a cost and nothing is higher cost than travel. I am bearing those costs at the moment. Blessedly the costs feel removed and remote as I am a perhaps disassociated as my soul may or may not be somewhere over Greenland.

So if you’ve not heard from me it’s because I’ve got a bit of soul delay with my jet lag. Or a bit of jet lag with my soul delay. You can expect reintegration soon.

Categories
Travel

Day 886 and Breaking Camp

When I travel I prefer to set up a base camp. I do things from one place regionally for a month. I have a lot of accoutrements that come with me and I travel. Having a disability like a chronic spinal autoimmune condition is a huge pain in the ass.

After I have my set up I try to run with a regular daily routine when I am abroad. Additional stresses like jet lag, heat, new allergies, a suppressed immune system that easily picks up a stray infection (skin is my most common vector not lung these days), and other more quotidian travel stresses all hit me hard.

I do my best to take care of myself when I travel as any hitch in my routine can mean lost productivity. I plan my trips meticulously.

Today I am breaking down those routines. Packing them back up into my three bag cascade crisis management packing solution. Because what can go wrong will go wrong so plan for every scenario you can envision. Then you pray the unknown unknowns don’t get you.

Travel is an elaborate cost benefit analysis for me. If you do what you love you will never work a day in your life. And I do love calculating my inputs and seeing if my outputs breaks as predicated.

If not then I learned something new about what to model for next time. Breaking camp is where I see what I can improve. And what I did well. Everything has its cost. And I take responsibility for it.

Categories
Biohacking

Day 881 and Set a Timer

I’ve always been the type of thinker who enjoy playing with differences and similarities. I find it pleasing to see common attributes of humanity. I’m soothed seeing we are more alike than not even across vast genetic & cultural distances.

I equally enjoy spotting games of “one thing is not like the other” as part of the general pattern recognition that evolutionary Darwinism implies. The freaks and mutants are who push us forward. Recognizing the value of positive differentiation is the basis for every job I’ve ever loved from fashion to finance.

This might be why I enjoy tools like timers, trackers, spreadsheets and other measurements of inputs and outputs. I like inferred knowledge and probability. Those goofy old standard test questions “this is to that: as that is to this” were my favorite.

I understand how totalizing using these tools can be. I’m currently experiencing the intense urge to smash my Apple Watch as I am asking it to “set a timer for 45” minutes several times a day. I’m setting shorter timers too.

I am spreading out a biohacking regimen while my body goes through an ugly symptom flare that suggests both allergy issues and a general immune response to what I believe is an infection from some scratching that opened my dermatitis. Fun huh?

The expectation that one’s body is unique and an N of 1 pairs poorly with averages, reversion to the mean, and the persistent beeping tinging ringing reminders of a timer going off telling you to follow the routine. So here I am wishing to some spreadsheet brained hope that my inputs and outputs will balance and I will be fine if we got the dosing right.

Which is the prayer of everyone who has ever experienced a medical malady. Set a timer, wait, and pray to an actual God as the ones in our phones aren’t up to the task of being deities just yet. More like having a troublesome djinn that promises the pain will go away if you do exactly ask it asks.

Categories
Emotional Work

Day 870 and Keep on Slipping

They say time flies when you are having fun. Some internal sick sadness combined with external geopolitical confusion, during what I’ve come to call “my sick years,” were in hindsight timeless years.

I am now past the worst of it. Time had no meaning when I was struggling to get diagnosed and treated during those years. Then we collectively ran headlong into the pandemic. Time had been a flat circle for a while and I wasn’t coming or going. My time was out of reach.

But those days of sad, static immobile time have given way to vim, vigor, verve (and fuck it, why not) even vivaciousness. I must be having fun again, as now time is absolutely flying.

I still carry my health challenges with me (ankylosis spondylitis like all inflammatory conditions comes and goes with the reliability of the fey), and the world is just as fucked up as ever.

And yet on the other side of many hard fights, I am happy again. The miseries are my choices and worth the fight. It’s many pleasures are fleeting, often, and luxurious beyond what my former self thought I deserved.

I hope time keeps on slipping like this for a while. The joy of my struggles now makes me eager to take care of myself. I take every day as slow as I can and still they go by so quickly.

Categories
Biohacking Travel

Day 867 and Sleep

I didn’t get a good night sleep last night. Or the night before. Or the night before. I guess I must be jet lagged.

I am always convinced I’ve managed to avoid jet lag and it’s never actually true. I love to lie to myself about my capacity for recovery in the face of travel but I know deep down that once the adrenaline wears off, it’s all about establishing a consistent sleep routine.

I’d rather maintain East Coast Time while I’m in Europe but my body has a tendency to sync to the circadian rhythms of the sun rise and sun set even when I do my best to stay awake till midnight I’ll rise with the sun. I was awake at 6am in Frankfurt as even with an eye mask on I knew it was finally morning.

I wanted to be settled and in a good routine as tomorrow afternoon it will have been a full week since I arrived in Germany. But it’s always harder than you expect to transplant your rhythms and routines. It’s boring to write about and I’m sure boring to read but not all posts can be about corporate cosmopolitanism and the abstraction layer of task applications as anonymous servant class rootless yuppies. That’s a fun read.

Categories
Biohacking

Day 866 and Sensory Overload

I was up very late last night as I had an evening commitment on Eastern Standard Time while I myself am on European Central Time. I finished at 6pm in New York but it was 2am for me. It was stimulating I was unable to fall asleep till well past 3am.

I didn’t successfully sleep in as much as I would have liked, so I found myself running on a bit less sleep than I would have preferred even though my Whoop suggested I was in the green with a reasonably high HRV score. When my biometrics are all in the green, even if I’ve had perceptually poor sleep, I try to let my data guide me.

I thought I was doing ok as I went about my routines and workload. I showered, meditated, did some work and even got a power nap in.

Still I found myself getting overwhelmed by basic sensory inputs. The sound of the cars on the road felt loud. I took a walk and found myself ordering an Uber to get home as I was tired and has gone too far. Alas, in the car, I found myself covering my ears and closing my eyes as the pop music and car incense overwhelmed two senses at once.

I felt as if I was an autistic cliche. I literally had my fingers in my ears humming to myself to calm myself down. After my nervous system mastery Bootcamp course, I knew my vagus nerve had gone into overstimulation.

I had gone into sympathetic shutdown without even realizing it. I couldn’t even think to ask the driver to turn down the music. I did what I could to breath.

It was a quick reminder that my daily life in the countryside of Montana is a lot easier on the body than a bustling city like Frankfurt.