Great piece, Simeon. This is the paradox, isn't it? I've re-stacked your words on productivity: they can't be improved upon. I'm an old man now, have had a good life and *still* at this age (73) cannot always turn off the productivity button. Perhaps this is one's life work: to disengage from the "forces" (inadequate word, too simplistic) that cause us to *strive*. To create is beautiful; striving sucks the beauty out of it.
John, huge thanks for this considered and super interesting reply. There is SO much in your comments to think about, and which resonate strongly, so much so that I’ll have to spend some time ruminating on them.
I’m really intrigued by this idea of striving. We get taught in almost every field and area of study that the measure of our productivity is as a result of continuous striving to “better ourselves”, with the implication that the best strivers make the best work, and reap the best rewards. But I just can’t get on board with that perspective.
I really value hearing about your experience and your gentle reflection about the course of your life, thank you for sharing that, and thanks as ever for your encouragement!
I have had a lot of fun running your words through my head since reading them. I think I have finally concluded that we profoundly agree by wholly different means, which demonstrates your anti-boxification stand (if I may offer a silly improvement on your lovely word).
At first, I thought we were very different humans indeed. I am 70, but have never been a person to sit and look at the view for ages. I don't rush, but I move. I try hard to put motion, and not just emotion, into my playing. I love to move. I even like feeling physically powerful, or as powerful as a 5'1" small person can. When I see a view, I want to walk through it, see it from every part, from the inside.
But we are not different - we are just embracing non-rushedness and our surroundings differently. I am being there by moving, you by stillness. These are not binary opposites, simply different ways of exploring and breathing the space. I love this nuance. Neither measures and counts. I think some of our fake difference might come from your instrument being one of initialising the whole sound with one move, and mine being one of continuous movement (I'm a flutist). Both explore, engage, and never really arrive.
It is fabulous that music can use both ways at the same time. It gives us a place to sit still and stay connected, all while feeling every movement, however minuscule or grand. Thank you for getting me to sit down and think a while!
Hi Liselyn. I just wanted to say a HUGE thank you for sharing these thoughts with me. I have read them a number of times, and I am very struck by the depth of thought you’ve given to this, and I’m humbled if my initial post did have some impact on you and your thinking around this.
I am particularly struck by the way you have demonstrated the heart of what I was aiming to express: that a nuanced breathing of the same space allows us to appreciate the same thing, whether for similar or different reasons, whilst doing it together.
I really like the way you have worded it, and I am so grateful for you taking the time to think through it and share these thoughts with me! Thank you!
Thank you so much for this fascinating follow-on from my thoughts and words, Ann. I’m most grateful for your kind comments, not least describing me as ‘young’, which at 37 I shall wholeheartedly accept 😊
I’m humbled that you wrote a post following-on from my thoughts and absolutely agree with where you progress the line of thinking to.
I know “boxification” is somewhat of a clumsy term, but I do think it helps to lead on further from just the simplicity of binary opposites, but the multiplicity of boxification - boxes within boxes; labels within labels etc - as you helpfully move it on to.
Thank you again for being here and sharing your thoughts, I’m very grateful!
Great piece, Simeon. This is the paradox, isn't it? I've re-stacked your words on productivity: they can't be improved upon. I'm an old man now, have had a good life and *still* at this age (73) cannot always turn off the productivity button. Perhaps this is one's life work: to disengage from the "forces" (inadequate word, too simplistic) that cause us to *strive*. To create is beautiful; striving sucks the beauty out of it.
John, huge thanks for this considered and super interesting reply. There is SO much in your comments to think about, and which resonate strongly, so much so that I’ll have to spend some time ruminating on them.
I’m really intrigued by this idea of striving. We get taught in almost every field and area of study that the measure of our productivity is as a result of continuous striving to “better ourselves”, with the implication that the best strivers make the best work, and reap the best rewards. But I just can’t get on board with that perspective.
I really value hearing about your experience and your gentle reflection about the course of your life, thank you for sharing that, and thanks as ever for your encouragement!
Will send off something a bit longer tomorrow.
I have had a lot of fun running your words through my head since reading them. I think I have finally concluded that we profoundly agree by wholly different means, which demonstrates your anti-boxification stand (if I may offer a silly improvement on your lovely word).
At first, I thought we were very different humans indeed. I am 70, but have never been a person to sit and look at the view for ages. I don't rush, but I move. I try hard to put motion, and not just emotion, into my playing. I love to move. I even like feeling physically powerful, or as powerful as a 5'1" small person can. When I see a view, I want to walk through it, see it from every part, from the inside.
But we are not different - we are just embracing non-rushedness and our surroundings differently. I am being there by moving, you by stillness. These are not binary opposites, simply different ways of exploring and breathing the space. I love this nuance. Neither measures and counts. I think some of our fake difference might come from your instrument being one of initialising the whole sound with one move, and mine being one of continuous movement (I'm a flutist). Both explore, engage, and never really arrive.
It is fabulous that music can use both ways at the same time. It gives us a place to sit still and stay connected, all while feeling every movement, however minuscule or grand. Thank you for getting me to sit down and think a while!
Hi Liselyn. I just wanted to say a HUGE thank you for sharing these thoughts with me. I have read them a number of times, and I am very struck by the depth of thought you’ve given to this, and I’m humbled if my initial post did have some impact on you and your thinking around this.
I am particularly struck by the way you have demonstrated the heart of what I was aiming to express: that a nuanced breathing of the same space allows us to appreciate the same thing, whether for similar or different reasons, whilst doing it together.
I really like the way you have worded it, and I am so grateful for you taking the time to think through it and share these thoughts with me! Thank you!
https://www.rhapsodydmb.com/post/more-than-background-music-the-box-ification-of-black-and-white-thinking
Thank you so much for this fascinating follow-on from my thoughts and words, Ann. I’m most grateful for your kind comments, not least describing me as ‘young’, which at 37 I shall wholeheartedly accept 😊
I’m humbled that you wrote a post following-on from my thoughts and absolutely agree with where you progress the line of thinking to.
I know “boxification” is somewhat of a clumsy term, but I do think it helps to lead on further from just the simplicity of binary opposites, but the multiplicity of boxification - boxes within boxes; labels within labels etc - as you helpfully move it on to.
Thank you again for being here and sharing your thoughts, I’m very grateful!
Nuance—an underused way of looking at life in today’s binary world of rival ideologies. Well said.
Thank you, Rhonda! I find it all so tiring sometimes having to nail your colours to the mast on everything, to have a “position” on everything.
I think it’s in the process of the nailing that we find what we’re looking for, rather than a hastily hoisted flag
I relate very much with enjoying the view, much to the frustration of anyone who chooses to walk or hike with me!
"Whilst this is true, I am so very bad at remembering this, let alone at actually doing it." --- We write about what we most need to learn ourselves!
Especially if you’ve worked so hard to get there, it’s worth enjoying it!
Yes, absolutely. The sharing of the learning is so important. Vulnerability is how we grow…which is why it’s hard