Eric Tian

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed I tend to be the opposite to my surroundings.

When people are happy with the world, I think of reasons to be sad. When people talk smack about others, I think of the great traits they might have.

When someone gives me a piece of advice, I think of reasons why they’re wrong. When everyone is following a trend, I look at the trend left behind. When I catch myself doing something ‘normie’, it gets eliminated.

In other words, I have a proclivity for chaos.

Why am I like this? Do I subconsciously desire balance? Do I want to see the other side properly represented? Or perhaps I’m just very disagreeable?

Whatever the case, it seems to do more good than harm. For instance,

• Seeing someone with an illness motivates me to be healthy.
• Seeing someone freak out motivates me to stay calm.
• Seeing someone despair at the world motivates me to count my blessings.

Interestingly, the inverse of these cases don’t bother me so much. Seeing a great body doesn’t motivate me to eat junk food, but I think of the sacrifices one had to make to create it. This makes me respect them and I love the world more.

Being an anti-chameleon is strange, but fun.

Cheers to my brilliant fellow anti-chameleon Derek Sivers for this idea.

Sometimes, it feels like the world stops you from doing what you want.

Perhaps you’d like to start a business. Write a blog. Start a YouTube channel. Rekindle old friendships. Or maybe it’s time for those six-pack abs you always wanted. But frustratingly, there’s just not enough time right now to do them all.

The solution to this dilemma can be found in Buridan’s ass.

Imagine a donkey that is placed exactly halfway between a bucket of water and a stack of hay. Because it is no closer to either option, it keeps looking left and right, unable to choose one. This goes on until the ass – paralysed by indecision – dies of both hunger and thirst.

Buridan’s ass can’t plan for the future. If it could, it would realise that it could first go to the water, then go eat the hay.

We can avoid Buridan’s ass. We can do everything we want to do with foresight and patience. The solution is to plan things one at a time. If you’re twenty and there’s five things you want to do, try doing one thing at a time for ten years. You’ll probably live until seventy to get them all done. This way, you can fully focus on one pursuit at a time without feeling conflicted because you know you’ll get to the others.

Most of us overestimate what we can do in one year, and underestimate what we can do with ten.

Let’s think long-term. Don’t be a donkey.

Credits to Derek Sivers for this idea. Buridan’s ass is also traditionally used for discussions surrounding free will. If you’d like to read more, here’s a skeptical article towards Buridan’s ass’ illustration of free will.

Let’s do some maths.

The average book has 60,000 – 100,000 words. Let’s go with 100,000.

The average reading speed is 250 – 300 words per minute. Let’s go with 250. Note that this range is for mental readers; auditory or visual readers can read up to much faster speeds.

So if a book has 100,000 words, then reading at a pace of 300 words per minute means you’ll finish a book in 100,000 / 300 = 333.33 minutes, or roughly 5 hours and 30 minutes, or 11 blocks of 30 minutes.

That means if you just spend half an hour reading each day, you can pretty much finish most books in two weeks – and that’s if you’re reading a biggish book and reading slowly.

This reading pace of 30 minutes each day results in finishing The Great Gatsby in five days; Life of Pi in twelve days; and War and Peace – one of the largest classics ever written – in just over two months. Not much time at all, considering these texts have single-handedly turned societies around and changed people’s hearts.

Often, it’s the small practices done consistently that drive the biggest results.

…is taken from the most important blog.

Yours.

It doesn’t matter if no one but you reads it. The blog you write each day is the blog you need the most. It is a compass and a mirror, a chance to put a stake in the ground and refine your thoughts.

The most important post is the one you will write tomorrow.

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This short piece above was inspired from Seth Godin’s blog – a place filled with wonderful ideas.

Sometimes, it’s tempting to give up writing. Some days are busy, tiring and you just want to rest. Other days, you reread something you’ve written in the past and realise how painfully mediocre you are. On the worst days, you question why you’ve written anything at all; that you wish on nobody the torture of reading your rambles and feel sorry for those who have already witnessed the full brokenness of your spirit.

But this was a good reminder that who I write for is nobody but myself. That no matter how chaotic or mediocre my musings, it is an opportunity to refine my thoughts and to find some order throughout this life; a pursuit that seems worth fighting for.

So here’s to another post and many more to come.

Recently, I came across this beautiful word from the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows:

agnosthesia

n. the state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your behavior, as if you were some other person—noticing a twist of acid in your voice, an obscene amount of effort put into something trifling, or an inexplicable weight on your shoulders that makes it difficult to get out of bed.

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In a world full of noise and opinions, it is easy to feel lost in a void. From this void comes uncertainties, and over time these uncertainties begin to evolve and weigh on you until you are paralysed with the curse of not knowing. In these moments, it is tempting to put aside critical thought and resign to popular opinion.

However, perhaps we should consider alternatives to desperately filling this uncertainty, for while uncertainty is painful, it is also the mother of creativity. And the great thing about creativity is that one never knows where they might end up. One might uncover a profound realisation about themselves, or the people around them – a discovery that might make all uncertainty worth the struggle.

Thus, while agnosthesia seems like a curse, it might just be a blessing in disguise. That while defaulting to popular opinion seems enticing, perhaps wrestling with impossible questions is a better alternative to sacrificing critical thought. As O. Carl Simonton suggested,

In the face of uncertainty, there is nothing wrong with hope.

2020 has been a crazy year. Yet, chaotic times tend to be fertile ground for precious lessons and this year was no exception to the rule. To wrap up the year, here’s 3 new lessons, 3 quotes and 3 resolutions for 2021.

3 New Lessons

1. Contradictions are normal and that’s okay. (post here)

My biggest takeaway this year is that people can be irrational and contradictory and that’s totally fine. This was quite the revelation, as I used to be short-tempered and quick to call out inconsistencies in behaviour. I can thank many factors for this lesson, but the two main inputs are:

• A podcast episode between Jay Shetty and Malcolm Gladwell; and
• Fantastic characters found in literature. Tt’s amazing how much detail and complexity some authors can give fictional beings. Reading dilemmas and faults in literature has been illuminating in making me a less angry person overall.

2. Action breeds motivation, not the other way around.

This one is simple but has been a game-changer for getting stuff done. In my pathologically neurotic period, starting tasks would be a chore as I would always mentally prepare myself for the hard effort required to do a task.

This year, I’ve found that the easiest method of doing hard stuff is just to dive straight into it without thinking, kind of like diving into an icy-cold bath. The hardest part of doing something is usually just getting started.

3. Words are works of magic.

2020 had a record number of books read and difficult conversations had. These experiences have illustrated the power of both the written and spoken word.

Words can elevate people to the realms of the heavenly angels, yet equally plunge people into the depths of hell. The Four Agreements describes this dichotomy as white magic vs. black magic, and I’ve found this to be very true. In 2020, I’ve learnt to be more mindful of the things I say and write and to prioritise values of love and truth above all others.

3 Quotes

1. We aren’t uniquely awful, we just know ourselves unusually well. – The School of Life. Note: this quote quite literally saved my life in some of my darkest moments this year.
   
2. To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation. – Life of Pi.
   
3. One of the painful things of our time is that those who feel certainty are stupid; and those with any imagination or understanding are filled with doubt and indecision. Let doubt avail. – Bertrand Russell.

3 Resolutions for 2021

1. Keep reading and writing.

I’ve tried many habits in the past, but the two that have stuck are my propensities for writing and reading. These have helped me find order amongst apparent disorder and have been reliable punching bags for my heavy emotions. If these are the only good habits that I take to my grave, then so be it.

2. Limit phone use.

Aim: <2 hours per day as a weekly average. I’ve set a challenge for this with my partner to keep me accountable and I hope to keep it.

3. Cultivate good relationships.

The best moments of my life have consistently been times where I’ve had strong and healthy relationships – times where there was a mutual and beautiful understanding that two people had each other’s backs, no matter how crazy things got.

Unfortunately, it’s easy to let relationships slip, so in 2021 I’m making a conscious effort to schedule catch-ups with friends, family and loved ones.

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So, that’s a wrap for 2020. Finally, dear reader, if you’ve made it here I’d just like to give a big thank you for taking the time to follow along with my musings. I don’t think I’m that interesting and it constantly amazes me that I get visitors every month on this site. If you’ve been lurking for a while, feel free to leave a comment – feedback is always appreciated.

Otherwise, I hope you all have a wonderful New Year. I can’t wait to see how crazy 2021 will get.

Cheers,
Eric

Nobody likes being wrong. Though mistakes are a potent tool for learning, incorrect decisions often have consequences, ranging from the practical (paying a fine) to the deeply psychological (questioning one’s self-worth). These factors do not make for a fun experience. As Martina Navratilova remarked, Whoever said, “It’s not whether you win or lose that counts”, probably lost.

As a result, we analyse. If we begin a new activity – say running, or learning how to code – we invest time to research the topic, consider other’s opinions and form our own conclusions. We only take action when we feel like we know what we are doing.

Yet while this seems natural, there are two issues with this.

First, the world we live in is filled with so much information that trying to understand everything is a daunting task. It can be easy to end up in an endless spiral of opinions – helped no less helped by the addictive nature of social media – with no clear answer at the end.

Secondly, and this sounds obvious, analysis inhibits action. If you’re considering getting a Garmin watch vs. an Apple watch for exercise, you’re not exercising. If you’re reading reviews on what the best course is to learn Java, you’re not coding.

As a result, we end up with an analysis paralysis where a fear of failure inhibits action. In some cases, this paralysis becomes so bad that the actual task at hand never begins and we are frozen in this endless feedback loop of considerations.

What is the antidote to this? I’m no expert, but here’s a suggestion:

Just start.

One of my biggest realisations this year is that action leads to motivation, not the other way around. It’s easy to think that we must be first ready enough to start something before we can have a good go at it. But honestly, I’ve found time and time again that if you just start, you’ll find that you’re already ready.

This idea can be scary. It requires discipline and often requires one to deal with failure an uncomfortable amount of times. But the great thing about taking a little step is that:

1. We still learn, as experience is a great teacher; and
2. This small step creates momentum for more steps in the future.

Of course, this idea can’t be applied to all domains. Some areas, like investing in a property or choosing a career path, require a certain amount of consideration so one won’t regret the decision later on. Yet, in most cases it doesn’t really matter in which direction you move, just so long as you move. It all starts with that first step.

Last night, I had a really weird dream. I’m usually pretty good at recalling dreams but for whatever reason, this one was more vivid than most.

In the dream, technology had evolved to a point where virtual reality games were good. Like, Ready Player One or The Three Body Problem good. To a point where games were practically indistinguishable from reality.

I found myself in one of those games. I was a virtual self, moving around artificially, but there was also my dreaming self who was controlling my virtual self, in an entirely different world. In other words, I was controlling:

• Character 1: My virtual-self
• Character 2: My dreaming-self

In the virtual game, I found myself in a dungeon. There was one other player with me – a dark-skinned, male avatar with white hair – and we were lost trying to find an exit. I remember randomly looking around the dungeon to find some sort of clue – a key, map or puzzle – but found nothing.

But then I realised I was dreaming and I entered into lucid dreaming. Now this was really trippy, because now there was:

• Character 1: My virtual-self
• Character 2: My dreaming-self
• Character 3: My lucid-self (dreaming)

Since I now had control over my environment as a lucid dreamer, I decided that I had enough of this dungeon and teleported myself to grab some bubble-tea. Which is weird, because I normally don’t drink bubble-tea (bit too sweet). But anyway, I ended up at a small, indoor, run-down bubble-tea joint that had carpet and no chairs.

Now this is where it gets really weird. This bubble-tea scene was for my virtual-self (character 1) in the game. But simultaneously, I also lucid dreamed my dreaming-self (character 2) at a different bubble-tea store. So, I was living two bubble-tea experiences at the same time, at different joints. We ordered different bubble-teas and when they came, I drank them at the same time, from two different places. And it’s impossible to describe, because it’s like your consciousness (ignoring the metaphysical considerations here) has been split in two and you’re experiencing two opposing sensations at the same time. Something simultaneously having a hot bath + a cold shower.

As the lucid-self, my field of vision constantly shifted between my dreaming-self and the virtual-self. As my virtual-self, I would be sitting on the carpet drinking my bubble-tea, then the next second I’m in my dreaming-self running down the street away from some robbers. Then I’d switch back to my virtual-self and be somewhere else entirely, then switch back to my dreaming-self, where I would be on a random mountain, still being pursued by robbers, for an unknown reason. It was extremely disorienting and frankly, terrifying.

When I woke up, my head was spinning. I felt my consciousness had been split into two and was now in one piece again. This honestly felt great; I made my bed and was delighted to see I was still there.

For whatever reason, this dream was particularly vivid and I can still recall certain scenes in there. Since waking, I’ve begun pondering metaphysical questions relating to consciousness, like:

• What is consciousness? Simply sentience, or something deeper like an ego?
• Where does consciousness come from? Is it strictly physical (i.e. the brain), or is there some mystical power at play?
• If it is strictly physical, what are the consequences of this? People might eventually be inseparable from robots with advanced enough neural networks, or consciousness could be stored and transferred between bodies (see Altered Carbon for a novel based on this idea).

Turns out, these questions have been around for ages so I’m kind of late to the party. Still, this was a fun reminder that dreams are still weird and I still have much to explore in the realms of metaphysics.

Disclaimer: Trying out a more direct style of writing. Ideas from this passage come from Don Miguel Ruiz’s The Four Agreements: A Practical Guide to Personal Freedom.

The agreements we have with ourselves are everything.

Once upon a time, we woke up and were thrust into an unfamiliar world. There, we were rewarded for what our elders deemed “good”, and punished for what they deemed “bad”. We learnt languages and morals, ethics and religion – not because we asked for it, but because we couldn’t.

Along the way, we made agreements with ourselves. Agreements that shaped the way we saw ourselves in the world. One agreement might have been, I’m ugly, because a fellow classmate sneered at our clothing. Another agreement might’ve been, I’m poor, because we ate differently to others. And another, more terrible agreement might’ve been, I’m worthless, because someone told us so.

And over time, we’ve come to worship our agreements, no matter how terrible. Whenever something questions our agreements, we feel a funny feeling in our solar plexus and it’s called fear. Breaking our agreements makes us feel unsafe, because we’ve constructed our lives around them. And so, we go around carrying around beliefs about ourselves that are untrue and irrational, for the sake of feeling grounded. As Thich Nhat Hanh said, People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar.

Thus, the biggest fear humans have is to be alive. Death is not the biggest fear we have; our biggest fear is taking the risk to be alive – the risk to be alive and express who we really are.

All of humanity is searching for something, whether it be truth, justice or beauty. We keep searching and searching, but there is nothing to find. Everything is within us – for the agreements we have in our minds leave no room for the truth. We live in a fog that is not even real. We see the world through a filter; and sometimes, this filter is a horror lens. And so, some of us live in a living hell.

The agreements we have with ourselves are everything – for in a way, we’re all living in a dream. What our dream looks like, is up to us.