If nothing comes, do nothing.
I think that's the first rule for reaching a flow state.
Though "nothing" doesn't really mean anything.
You're always doing something, just not what you'd planned.
Accept that what I'm doing now is exactly what I should be doing.
And the next thing too.
And the one after that.
Flow is less about producing than accepting.
On the train.
A day in my clown life
You live here
Jaws
So... failed at life?
The last guy suffers from a lack of alignment... 😁
I'm not interested in people who want to debate.
I'm interested in people who are looking for the truth.
They're rarely the same people.
People who like to debate want to prove they're right.
They've often built their opinions on hidden interests or emotions they never reveal in the conversation. The source of their beliefs is out of reach. All you ever get to argue about is the crust.
People who are looking for the truth are always on your side.
They may disagree, but they're working toward the same goal.
A little boy tripped in front of the café.
His mom showed him what he'd tripped on, wiped his hands, gave him a kiss, and off they went, happier than before.
Children don't need anything else: just a little attention.
For them, attention fixes the world.
The antidote to what scares them, to what hurts them, is to show them that we saw, that we understood, and that what happened to them matters to us.
Magic is enough.
Either I had a mystical experience during meditation this morning.
Or yesterday's burger didn't agree with me.
Both?
Tonight I'm sleeping in a hotel and making a drawing to complain but actually it's fine I'm happy but joy doesn't sell as well. Damn I have to fill the 3rd line too. Stop.
I'm working on my naive style. There's room for improvement.
If your idea of "happiness" is too vague, it's out of reach.
All it does is devalue your present.
I'm still exploring "silencing my thoughts", and it's opening a lot of doors. Especially for creative work, as Thom Yorke described.
Right now, my brain is unplugged.
The sentences come one after another, without my having to think about them.
I was writing in my journal and tried an experiment: can I unplug my brain? The way I sometimes do when I read? Or when I create?
We tend to think of writing as an intellectual activity.
It isn't at all. Or not necessarily. Or not the way we'd expect.
Is this what they call "flow"?
Let's be clear: I'm often in a state of flow. I'd even say my days are organized around it. But just now, I spotted a new inner mechanism:
Switching thought off. Even more than before. And letting it come.
And when nothing comes?
Silence.
And that's fine.
The problem with AI is that it will never drop what we've asked it to do and say, "Stop! We have to save the planet first! It's a matter of survival!"
What good is a superintelligence that doesn't use its intelligence to set priorities?
It's only there to help us go faster in the direction we've already chosen.
The direction that brought us to the brink.
I'm carrying on with the 4x3s. Without thinking about it.
Yesterday I wrote "JE" ("I") on a Post-it to test a red marker. The drawing, the caption and the newspaper grew around it.
It isn't good or bad, pretty or ugly. It's 4x3, and that's all it is.
Where the trouble starts: "I"
I often think about that video of a dog growling at its reflection in the mirror.
The more it growls, the more the reflection growls.
It's convinced it's only reacting to an outside world that's attacking it.
As within, so without.
Following my comment on comments, I decided to make them today's 4x3s (yes, it's becoming a thing).
Sorry my sincere reaction doesn't fit what you were expecting.
Forgive me for doing it my way.
I apologize for not being more like you.
I know you'll also know who to send them to.
I often talk about no longer setting goals in the future and finding joy in acting now.
I also talk about building a daily practice where, for 10 minutes a day, you just do.
No planning, no preparing: you do.
Because deep down, you don't know. And nobody can tell you. You have to do.
Here's what Thom Yorke says about it in this video:
Songwriting is like a naive thing. You can't be savvy about it.
You can work really hard on it, but the good stuff just happens.
And you don't know why.
And you've got to be honest with yourself that you don't know why.
And you've got to carry on being honest with yourself that you don't know why.
And when stuff forms that you like, you just grab onto it and you don't let go.
Because the stuff you like, you don't know why you like it.
Like Pyramid Song: it's three chords over and over again, and the same lyric.
How does that make sense? But you like it.
You like it.
You're not bothered about if anyone else likes it.
This will be my new reply to unpleasant comments:
Sorry my sincerity doesn't fit what you were expecting.
Because that's often what it comes down to: people criticize me for not reacting their way.
As if reacting my way did them harm.
Even when all I'm doing is expressing myself.
Ever since I was a kid, anxiety has shown up in me as tension in my solar plexus.
A knot in my stomach that comes whenever I'm stressed. All the time.
Today, for the first time, I felt something else in its place... lightness.
A pleasant, indescribable sense of physical well-being.
It happened during meditation.
It seems to go hand in hand with this space without inner monologue that I keep exploring.
For a while, I manage to set aside problems, obligations, the daily grind. And I find myself here and now, freer and more detached than before.
To be continued.
Sometimes violence is the only answer, but it's a trap.
I'm trying out Feedbin.
It's a web aggregator: you read the blogs, sites and newspapers you follow all in one place.
Same goal as always, which I talked about here: breaking free from social media.
I don't mind sharing on platforms run by Zuckerberg, Musk and co. But the source has to be mine. I want a digital "home" that I control, where I publish what I want, and where people can follow me without going through a third party.
But following a lot of websites is tedious. Hence the aggregator. Like a small personal social network you're fully in control of.
And to set an example, I'm trying to follow the creators I like somewhere other than social media. The upside of Feedbin: it also lets you "follow" newsletters.
For now, it's complicated. I can't follow all the creators I want to. It isn't a habit yet.
But it's day one. I'll keep you posted.
Humans organize themselves into groups they belong to.
Fine.
The trouble starts when that group is a company.
Because a company's purpose is to generate revenue.
So here are human beings loyal to an entity whose purpose is neither their survival, nor their well-being, nor the common good, but money.
For these people, it becomes natural to make decisions that put the rest of the world (the out-group) at risk so the company (the in-group) can thrive, when that company won't protect them if real trouble comes.
That's a bad strategy for everyone.
I lied earlier: they're not squares, they're 4:3, like old films.
Here's the first of what should be a long list. Maybe.
How I'd love to be that cool.
It's not a metaphor. It's very concrete.
Once you've understood that your outer problems are a reflection of your inner blocks, instead of thrashing around where it doesn't matter, you can go straight back to the source and transform what does.
That requires raising your level of inner perception.
It's not a gift. It takes practice.
Right now, I'm learning to spend more time in that space, to hold my attention more steadily on the inner workings.
When I come out, it's to find that out in the world, everything has gotten unstuck as if by magic. And all that's left for me is to enjoy the beauty of the world.
After trying every possible angle, I've written the introduction to my book.
Yes, this is the one.
I know because it brought tears to my eyes.
And everything that felt complicated about the writing opened up.
Two realizations made that possible:
Maybe it'll help you too.
I've said before that I only use Claude to build tools.
I've found another use for it: an error machine.
What it suggests is always sensible, clean... but nothing like what I want.
And those suggestions help me pin down what I actually want.
Not that.
In the middle of the night, I got hassled by two big dogs on the beach.
Not late, like 8:30 p.m. Down by the water, where there's no light.
They came running. One growled and grabbed my pant leg.
I scattered them with a loud "OH!". I left. Toward the light.
They came back. A bit more coordinated. More growling.
Another "OH!". They left again, and so did I. No owner in sight.
Called the police station. "No patrol available, I don't know what to do." OK.
Worth noting: another black dog had given me a dirty look in Paris two days earlier. Is it a sign?
Bad instincts: Psychologically, a black or aggressive dog that growls embodies repressed urges, anger, aggression, or the shadow side we struggle to accept in ourselves.
It's decided: I'm going to tell the comments that piss me off on my videos to fuck off, and own it.
We'll see if that calms the dogs down.
After the two TikTok accounts on spirituality, two accounts about politics and how society is organized:
Found them during a sleepless night. I recommend them.
If you repost propaganda, even out of outrage, you're part of it.
The media have figured out that repeating the unacceptable makes it familiar. They're counting on it.
Some channels draw their influence from shared clips, recycled ideas, and the conversations they spark.
Don't watch them. Don't amplify them.
I keep turning old journal entries into carousels.
The new versions are clearer.
Which goes to show: writing every day for years...
We sometimes have the illusion that some things matter and others don't.
Especially in times of crisis.
But in reality, every event in our lives is linked in a great chain of cause and effect, where each link holds the next.
So yes: the thought you'll have while looking at the dead leaf will affect what happens next. It will count as much as everything else.
And inner work can begin with any link.
Paying close attention to small things is often the best way to become present again.
It's a line I added to my morning note:
Proud? Stop everything.
It's good to remember that the ego doesn't only show up in negative emotions. And pride is often a lie.
"I did that."
But I didn't choose the body that could, or the intelligence that knew, or the privileged position that allowed it, or all the circumstances that made it possible.
It isn't about feeling ashamed either, not at all.
It's about realizing that we're part of a whole that is expressing itself, and that we're one of its notes. Which isn't diminishing, or sad.
In the rare moments when I'm aware of it, I'm freed from a weight I forget the rest of the time, and suddenly I feel truly present.
Reading the passive-aggressive comments under an excellent video about humanitarian aid reassured me a little.
It's not just me.
People attack arguments that the video explicitly addresses. Sometimes in the very same words. In fact, it's the main point of the video. But it's as if they hadn't seen it, hadn't heard it.
Deep down, I think they stay fixed on the part that annoys them, that threatens them, that challenges their identity – and ignore everything else. In poker, you'd say they're on tilt: too shaken to think clearly.
You have to keep that in mind when you reply. You're not talking to rational people with different opinions. You're talking to wounded egos trying to justify their identity.
I listened to the podcast where Bill Gates lays out his very alarmist stance on artificial intelligence (probably for good reason). Three things I noted, not all about AI:
Add that to the pile of problems.
