You are an expression of great, great things

Even if you are not fond of yourself at a given moment, you are the living embodiment of everything that is right with the world. Even when you feel like crap and have made bad choices and performed poorly and done things that you wish you hadn’t, you are holy - because you cannot help but be holy. That’s part of the joy that is life on earth.

Every being in the universe is an expression of the Tao.
It springs into existence, unconscious, perfect, free, takes on a physical body, lets circumstances complete it.
That is why every being spontaneously honors the Tao. (Mitchell, chapter 51)

Alan Watts talks about this, about how erroneous it is to ever indulge in the thought that you are in sin or out of step or untrue to yourself. You may be doing bad things, but you are not bad; you may be behaving incorrectly based on your goals and values, but you are not incorrect.

Isn’t that a bit of comfort?

Fewer choices = greater freedom

Colors blind the eye.
Sounds deafen the ear.
Flavors numb the taste.
Thoughts weaken the mind.
Desires wither the heart. (Mitchell, chapter 12)

I have a bad habit of allowing books to enter my life. No, I don’t mean to suggest that books are bad - quite the opposite. But I have a tendency to collect them, to let them pile up and accumulate, until my office and my bedroom and eventually my whole house are nothing but stockpiles for other peoples’ ideas.

What happens then? Does the sudden accumulation of many, many books equate to more time spent reading? No, just the opposite, in fact, as that growing mountain of books becomes daunting. Almost like it’s thumbing its hide-bound nose at me.

More to the point, I have an excellent public library that is literally walking distance from my house - and at any given time, there are always more books there than I can possibly embrace. So why do I want to fill up my personal living space with them, when someone else will store them for me?

So this weekend has been one of my semi-regular book purges. It’s amazing how having more choices makes it harder to make a choice - and having just a few carefully chosen options within arm’s reach makes it much more likely that I will actually reach for one of them.

Keeping the inbox empty

One of the most pivotal personal productivity habits I have developed is the practice of keeping my email inbox empty.

Now, I’m certainly not claiming to have invented this - scads of people both swear by this technique and try to preach it to their email-hording colleagues, most of whom usually find the idea ludicrous.

But for those of you either encountering the idea for the first time or still skeptical about it, let me impress upon you the psychological benefit of an empty inbox, and the resulting gains in both productivity and happiness.

Looking at an empty inbox is a bit like feeling the breeze blow through your open window on a spring day - aaaah, yes. There it is. It is an instant reminder that things are good, they are under control, and you are going to be fine. Read more…

Turn the computer off. Tonight.

The introduction of the personal computer into the home – and, more particularly, the introduction of the Internet to that personal computer – has probably had more of an impact on family life than any other social force in decades. Home is no longer a bastion or place to withdraw; it is just another node on a vast network.

This is a good thing, on the whole. Educational opportunities abound. Personal skills have the opportunity to grow in new ways. New friends are made, and old ones are rediscovered.

But when this connection is allowed to persist 24 hours a day, seven days a week – which it generally is, thank you DSL and cable – it can become a massive psychic sink, a vacuum sitting in the corner, quietly tugging at your energy and awareness all day and all night, without you even noticing it.

Try this experiment. Tonight, once all essential computer-related tasks are done, turn the computer off. Don’t put it in sleep mode, and don’t just turn off the monitor. Turn the whole damn thing off. Unplug it if you want.

Take some deep breaths. Notice anything different? Suddenly, things don’t feel quite so harried. Suddenly it seems possible to do everything that you want to do tonight – read a book, play a game with your kids, catch up on some movies.

Here’s why computer activity in general, and the Internet in particular, are so different from other hobbies and pursuits like reading, watching movies and playing games: It has no end. Books have an end. You’re done with them at some point. A game of Monopoly naturally comes to a close. A television show wraps up after 40-some minutes, and that’s it. You’re finished with it.

Computer activity, though, is never finished. There’s always something left undone. There’s always something more to explore, something you haven’t completed. And it stretches thusly in infinite directions. Is it any wonder we leave our desks feeling drained, empty, unsure if we’ll ever get caught up?

We won’t. Turn the damned thing off. Read a book to your child, or to yourself. And savor that moment when you turn the last page and it’s over and the whole world is once again yours.