William James on consciousness and movement

Posted on February 4, 2013July 10, 2013 by Sarah K Peck

William James, from the University of Amsterdam

In the 1961 text titled Psychology: The Briefer Course, William James, (an eminent theorist and one of the founders of modern psychology), writes a series of essays on habits, consciousness, the self, attention, association, memory, sense of time, and several more topics. The book, a compilation of James’ (1842—1910) writings, was one of the foundation texts for advanced introduction to the history and systems of psychology during my undergraduate education.

I found myself re-reading Chapter 14, on Consciousness and Movement—particularly the ideas that our thought patterns are influenced by our ability to move, or moreover, the fact that we are first and foremost mobile creatures—implies that consciousness itself is a motor activity. It’s been a while since I’ve dusted off my psychology textbooks, but I found myself up at night re-reading texts and trying to figure out what the relationship between movement and thinking implied.

In chapter 14, Consciousness and Movement:

“All consciousness is motor. The reader will not have forgotten, in the jungle of purely inward processes and products through which the last chapters have borne him, that the final result of them all must be some form of bodily activity due to the escape of the central excitement through outgoing nerves.”

“The whole neural organism, it will be remembered, is, physiologically considered, but a machine for converting stimuli into reactions; and the intellectual part of our life is knit up with but the middle or central part of the machine’s operations. “

A bit further into the chapter, he talks more specifically about the relationship between feeling/thought and movement, which I find particularly interesting:

[…]

“Using sweeping terms and ignoring exceptions, we might say that every possible feeling produces a movement, and that the movement is a movement of the entire organism, and of each and all its parts.”

The implications of this are fascinating. If every thought is a movement—that is, if every time you think, you produce some motor reaction (a neural stimulus, a twitch, a physiological shiver or reaction to stimulus; if each thought is related to stimulus that is transmitted through mechanical means throughout your body,

Then every single movement in your body is correlated to some extent, to thought.

And if this is true in one direction—if every motion in our body maps to some sort of thought process and embedded, historical thought;

Does every thought we have recall that initial motor stimulus and reaction?

…

And if so,

Does the act of movement, of creating mirrored movements and using each component part of our bodies, from walking to sitting to bending to lifting to exertion, to micro-movements and patterns of the smallest, indiscernible increment, but movement nonetheless—

Then cause us to think, even if only to recall previous thought patterns?

…

Certain physiological processes and therapies, massage in particular and yoga as another example, have foundation in the idea that movement is training for the mind.

The implication, however, for a society that prizes sitting, creating, and laborious hours behind a computer unmoving, — does this cause the resulting correlating conclusion of an equal and opposite reaction–or possible that a lack of movement may be correlated to an unmeasurable or intangible lack of intelligence happening on a widespread scale?

I suppose I’m suggesting: is a sedentary nation also a stupider nation?

Perhaps this is too far-fetched and unproven to be real; hence it is entirely (at current state, in my current mind) a speculation exercise: but sometimes, I wonder, after the glorification of Steve Jobs has waned a bit longer, after people thoughtfully critique his unique ability in a unique time and tease apart his contributions; –I wonder if the application of modern computers, with wide exception of course, will also be seen to perpetuate the numbing of a certain type of intelligence.

Thoughts for pondering.

I’m working on a series of essays and thought pieces about the importance of movement and thinking and the relationship between the two. I host a series of events called “Walk and Talk,” in San Francisco that marries the ideas of movement and analysis and provides fodder and opportunity for philosophical discussion. The groups are small, but feel free to request and invite if you’re in town.

Also–if you’re in San Francisco this week, I’m teaching a class at General Assembly this Thursday, February 7th on Storytelling and Narrative. I’d love to see you there!

Keep Writing.

Posted on January 24, 2013January 25, 2013 by Sarah K Peck

I’ve had a few people ask me about writing habits, what compels me to write, and how to keep the habit.

A couple of thoughts:

Don’t worry about what it looks like, or how much of it you’re doing.

Don’t worry about who’s reading it, or what they’re saying, or whether or not anyone’s reading it.

Don’t worry about whether or not it’s “the right time,” or that you’re in your pajamas at 1 AM scrawling out a couple of things.

Don’t worry if it’s 6 AM and you forgot to wash your face and you still need to brush your teeth and the coffee is cold, or warm, or not even made at all–or if you’re on your tenth cup.

Don’t worry about whether you’re writing on a bus in between trips, on a notebook without any lines on it, on a age-old laptop (mine’s called Tubby, by the way, ’cause he’s a real chunker), or whether you’re working in Pages or Word or Tumblr or WordPress.

Don’t worry if you switch topics and platforms and ideas and think that it’s all confusing other people. It doesn’t matter.

Maybe don’t make too much of a plan, other than the basic commitment to keep showing up and writing about whatever you want to write about.

Don’t worry–at least not yet, and maybe not even then–about what it adds up to, or what it will become, or even why you’re doing it.

Don’t worry about only having 20 or 30 minutes a day to write; don’t be discouraged. Keep writing, whenever and however you can. A couple thoughts a day for a month can add up before you know it. Write when you can, and thank yourself for doing it.

Don’t worry about the fact that your life doesn’t look like a “writer’s lifestyle,” or the fact that you have a job or you only have limited time each day to write. Mark Twain was an insurance salesman, if it makes you feel any better.

Don’t worry about whether or not you don’t have a bed to sleep in at the moment, or if you have a house over your head, or if the bed you do have is too short for you so you’ve got to sleep on the concrete floor in your sleeping bag for a couple of months.

Don’t worry about the people who don’t understand why you need to write, and if someone tells you that writing isn’t important or that you aren’t a good writer or that you shouldn’t spend so much time writing, by all means do it anyway, because it’s not about whether or not they think you should write, but about whether or not you think you should write.

Don’t worry about not getting enough sleep, about forgetting to wear deodorant, about feeling incompetent, about not being sure what to say.

Don’t worry if your first ten, twenty, or an entire year’s worth of posts are shit and you can’t figure out if you’ll ever be able to string together words in the way you want to.

Just keep writing. Writers write.

Remember: Just keep writing. The only way to become a writer is to write.

And all of the above, for me, has been true. And I kept writing, and so should you.

With love,

What’s On Your Mind?

Posted on January 14, 2013January 14, 2013 by Sarah K Peck

“We’re not here, for that long, anyway. But to spend almost half our time lost in thought, and for the most part unhappy at that–well that’s pretty tragic, isn’t it?”

— Andy Puddicombe

How does your mind work? What brought you here? What patterns occupy your thoughts and recur, repeatedly?

Andy Puddicombe talks about the power of meditation and how beneficial it is for each of us to stop for ten minutes each day and simply to look at how our mind is working. (The link takes you to a 9-minute TED talk).

When you stop and look at your thoughts, he asks, do you notice–

That you’re dwelling and ruminating on one particular, circling, repeating thought?
That you’re reinforcing certain story lines and patterns of mind?
That your mind is restless and agitated?
That your mind is dull, boring, or mechanical?
That you have a nagging thought that comes around and around?

How does your mind work, anyways?

The point of mindfulness isn’t judgment or instantaneous change, but rather, an awareness of what is actually happening in your mind, without judgment. It’s familiarity with the present moment, and an awareness of how, in fact, your mind is working.

Sometimes in order to know what’s on your mind, you have to slow down and take a look at that very mind. What’s in it?

Enjoy,

NAME IT: The Handy Cheat-Sheet For How to Deal with Feelings.

Posted on December 19, 2012December 19, 2012 by Sarah K Peck

Feelings, emotions, troubles and woes: no one is immune, despite the shiny glory of the internet and our addictions to various social-media outlets. I have a handy trick that I’ve used with a lot of success over the past couple of years each time I get overwhelmed, scared, afraid, worried, or wondering what to do a midst all the befuddlement:

Name it.

The best thing you can do with your feelings is to name them. Acknowledge them. Point to them, and talk about what they really are and where they came from.

“since feeling is first” – e. e. cummings.

The range of human emotions is incredible: each emotion a short clue into your relationship with your environment and the world around you. Spend time considering what each feeling is and what it’s proper name is.

Are you feeling overjoyed, happy, excited, enthusiastic, rushed, terrified, afraid, lonely, scared, sad, depressed, frantic, cold, weak, weary, wonderful, in awe, in love, in lust? How about frightened, joyful, thankful, grateful, gleeful, brave, energized, unbelieving or disillusioned?

What is the feeling that you’re having, and what’s causing it?

I use this template to death, often walking on a brisk and quick walk, dumping out the plethora of feelings onto my mental notepad, exploring the reason behind each one. This is the template I used for weeks after a terrible break-up, the one I used when I was too tired to think straight after my website launch, and even the template I used this week after catching a nasty cold and traveling for nearly every single day this month. (I feel TIRED, yo, because I’ve been TRAVELING.)

What are you feeling?

Name it.

Boldness is Genius. Do it. Decide.

Posted on March 21, 2012December 31, 2012 by Sarah K Peck

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too.

All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favour all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.”

Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now.”

– J. W. von Goethe

Decisions are hard. Very hard.

The word “decision” is based on the Latin “decisio,” which means a cutting off. The verb is decidere, to cut off, (“de” is off; “caedere” is to cut). You can see the root repeated in other familiar words: scissors, incision, caesarean section. Michael Ellsberg, in his book, The Education of Millionaires, recounts the work of Randy Komisar and his thoughts on playing it safe versus taking risks.

“The words “decision,” and “decide” stem from the roots “cise” and “cide,” to cut off and to kill, also the roots of manhy other words related to cutting and killing.”

“People feel like, unless they’re affirmatively making a decision, they’re not making a decision.”

We think that we’re safer, less risky, when we don’t cut off any possibilities. And so many of us sit, waifish, reluctant to decide because we are afraid of killing one of our options. We are afraid of the bloody battle that making a decision requires. We think that the alternative–not deciding–is safer, more secure. If we don’t decide to quit, to act, to disagree with someone, then we’ll be happier, somehow.

Yet there is a huge risk in not deciding:

Not making a decision is making a decision.

As time winds its way past you, your indecisiveness kills both of the options you once had, leaving you sitting on the site of the path, empty-handed. Not deciding is deciding. Not deciding is the death of both options. It’s not saving the life of both options.

Sure, there are risks of taking action. But there are also huge risks of inaction. To quote Ellsberg, these risks include:

“The risk of working with people you don’t respect; the risk of working for a company whose values are incosistent with your own; the risk of compromising what’s important; the risk of doing something that fails to express-or even contradicts–who you are. And then there is the most dangerous risk of all–the risk of spending your life not doing what you want on the bet that you can buy yourself the freedom to do it later.”

It’s not easy. You need to cut off part of yourself, close doors, and eliminate options. It’s painful. It’s hard. It’s why so many people opt to avoid making decisions. It’s why, when we’re presented with an incredible number of options, we’ll often choose to leave and “come back later,” because we don’t want to make the wrong decision. It’s why marketers and salespeople are realizing the genius of offering fewer options.

Because people are terrible at making decisions.

What are you risking by being afraid of not deciding?

We stand there, wistfully, at the fork in the path and dwell on the option we’re leaving behind, the places and spaces that could have been. But unless we decide to act, to make a decision, to cut one path and choose the other, then we’re not gaining from either option in front of us. No: we’re just sitting there, hands tied in the grassy meadow, staring at unfinished possibilities.

Deciding is powerful. It is terrifying. It is beautiful. Kill something today. Cut it out. Drop it. Remove it. Make clarity in choosing, by saying No to the part you don’t want. Say Yes to the things you want to keep. Do something.

“Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.”

“Begin now.”

With love,

A Little Bit Is A Lot.

Posted on March 9, 2012December 31, 2012 by Sarah K Peck

Feels like I just touched down in San Francisco and turned around and took off again! After getting back in town after last week’s working vacation, I’m off again to Dallas and then Austin, Texas for work, conferences and a weekend in Austin. I’m looking forward to seeing a lot of new and familiar faces in the crowds.

If you missed it, yesterday there was a great post on Chris Guillebeau’s blog following up on the one page career cheat-sheet from last month, where Chris asked me a few questions about what it means to be happy at your job, and what tools you can use to change your situation if you’re stuck somewhere and you’re not sure what to do.

In thinking about change, however, it’s also good to remember that it can be slow at first, and sometimes not much seems like it’s happening. I get it. It can be frustrating. I’ve been there over and over again, and often I want to bang my head against the wall and ask, “why is nothing happening!??” Sometimes I get so frustrated or scared, I give up. But it’s really important to keep going. Here’s one essay I was drafting last week in my notebooks on this very subject.

A little is a lot.

I procrastinate–sometimes, a lot, I’m afraid to admit–and the bigger a goal or dream of mine is, the worse this habit is. I’ll even throw in some productive things to do in lieu of tackling the big, scary goal or project. When I set my sights too far away from my current state, I can render myself helpless, weak, scared, or terrifically frightened.

It ends up feeling something like this:

In terms of growth, we often have unreasonable expectations for ourselves to scale huge walls in quantum leaps without respect for the time and energy it takes to really do what we want to do.

And when I stagnate–when I procrastinate, delay, or avoid doing something because the something I’ve chosen is just too big–then I end up doing nothing.

Isn’t that worse?

As a constant reminder, I find that there’s a general rule of thumb I keep in my pocket for whenever I feel so scared that I want to procrastinate:

A little bit is a lot.

And along those lines:

If it’s too big to do, make what you’re trying to do today smaller.

Case in point: I was working on the designs for a 200-page document. Each time I thought about working on it, I didn’t have the time, energy, or brain space to consider editing the entire document. So I procrastinated–a lot more than I’d like to admit. I tried to break it down into chunks–Sarah, do 50 pages at a time. Unfortunately, the chunks were still too big. I was too tired at the days’ end to do several more hours of work, so I ended up putting it off some more.

I reminded myself: what’s the smallest step, the littlest bit that I can do to make a dent in the pile? 10 pages? 5 pages? even just 1 page? And so I started, telling myself that a few pages was okay. It was enough to get me to start the project again.

And then I sat and did 30 pages. And the next day, another 20 pages. Slowly, steadily, I did make progress on it–by not making myself overwhelmed by trying to tackle too much.

If there’s something you’re afraid of, or you’re putting of, and you’re still not working on it–maybe make your expectations for today even smaller.

Growth is about incremental change.

Something like this is more appropriate:

Breathe.

Yes, a little step is really a lot.

Just take a little step, every day.

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