Creative Process

When I started writing blog posts daily, I jotted ideas on a list as they came to me. One sentence/word notes to myself. Gradually "about what" generation and writing became a habit, so that I didn’t even need to refer to “stored ideas”. 

Even as I started working on a first book, the idea of writing a book still intimidates me. Blogging no longer does. Neither does putting my ideas out in public, since I have been doing this regularly. I store the posts I put on LinkedIn, and I have written 235 pages (about 170,000 words) since February 2019. Longer than a book, but not a book. I still have work to do in the editing etc. 

I am most productive when I have confidence in a process that works. Second time is less scary, but you don’t get a second time without a first time. 

Part of my creative process this time, was recording myself talking to myself. I mapped out 12 chapters based on what I had been grappling with for the previous 5 years on my blog. Then some sub-points for each chapter. Then I just spoke about it, and recorded that on Zoom. Then I used Otter.ai to get a transcript. 

Now, I am gradually working through that transcript day by day. I write a paragraph based on the next bit of the transcript, then use naturalreaders.com/online/ to read it back to me. 

A long process, but fortunately I am not scared of things taking time. I think the best things do. Most of all, I enjoy the process. 

Thinking aloud instead of in silence also means I am engaging with people. My water cooler conversations often relate to a post I have written, but it is the colleague who brings it up. Stumbling on and grappling with ideas that resonate is why I enjoy my creative process. 

I am still intimidated by the idea of writing a book... but, it seems, that is what I am doing.

Messy Thinking

I try write in my blog every day. I believe we are mostly a collection of habits. I want writing to become a habit. Making it a part of what I do automatically means I am not waiting for inspiration, I go looking for it.

I know this means that many of my blog posts don't make a lot of sense. They make sense to me! (As I press publish... not always afterwards) I do read through them as carefully as I can. 

The second job I had after working in product development, was as a Marketing Actuary. Trying to take technical ideas and put them into a communicable form. There is a big gap between the people who have the time to think through issues (because it is their job) and the people who are doing other things. The Curse of Knowledge - 'The better you know something, the less you remember how hard it was to learn'.

The only way to find out if an idea can still connect to people, is to engage. The problem is you can't wait till an idea is fully formed before you do that. A lot of people 'stay private till they plonk'. Then when they reach their 'Eureka!' moment, no one else has a clue what they are speaking about.

My thinking is messy. I often confuse myself, and a lot of what I say is nonsense. I have been in several discussions where I have said, 'Okay, I am not making a lot of sense. I am going to shut up now.'

Lost in Thought in the Long Grass

As important as the conclusion you reach, is the path you took to get there. We are good at simplifying that path in retrospect. 'Our story' seems clear in hindsight. I know for me, that is rubbish. Much of our knowledge is what Virginia Postrel calls (in The Future and its Enemies) Tacit Knowledge. We don't know why we know what we know.

This is one of the challenges of a Global v Local world. The further decisions get stretched from the places where the results are felt, the more Tacit Knowledge gets lost.

By writing every day, I am 'thinking in the open'. People who know me will be able to read between the lines. They will read between the lines in ways I don't understand. That is because even if I have shared an experience with someone, they would have seen things differently. That can only add to my understanding if I invite them into my thinking. If we think together.

So I apologise if I lose you. I may be lost too. In conversation or in reading what you write, I will try my hardest to tell you when you have lost me. Please do the same.

Chisel

Proust is one of the world's most celebrated authors. I haven't read any Proust. I am unfortunately almost monotongue. I have read 'How Proust Can Change Your Life' which celebrates what paying attention, and looking closely, can add to your life. It also points out the beauty that came from Proust relentlessly editing his writing. Coming back to it. Making notes. Rewriting. Often we move on quickly through thoughts. Too quickly. Both our own, and those of others. Things can be read out of context. How they are understood can depend on the mood of the reader. What they read before. In a world with so much information thrown at us, perhaps we don't do enough chiseling.

Neolithic Chisels

Our Own Cacophony

I have had several journals. One of the problems they caused when 'looking back' is that they weren't a reflection of my actual feelings or thoughts. I would sit down and write, normally when upset, and purge myself of whatever is going on in my head. The picture my journals painted was often a grotesque mutilation.

Like the Pixar film, 'Inside Out' - most of what goes on inside my head is a filter free discussion between various emotions and attempts to apply some logic and rationality. When I grabbed for a pen to take minutes of these crazy meetings, there was no way possible to grab everyone's thoughts. I only learnt to touch type a few years ago, so I was also constrained by how fast the thoughts could pass through my arm and fingers. Even now, when I type using a computer relatively quickly, I am not catching everything. I am paraphrasing. Like a minute taker where there is no recording and no witnesses. The journal becomes the sole record.

Journals are notorious for getting people into trouble when other people read them. Particularly if people are very close to you, it can be difficult to be honest or even know what honesty is. Tact and kindness are important filters of what gets said. We always need to think both of what is said, and how it will be heard. The relationship is far more important than the words that get used and words are not precision tools. Journals are an attempt to open those gates, and so should come with fat hazard warnings if being read by someone other than the writer. Honesty is time.

Three Gates of Speech

1. Is it true?

2. Is it helpful?

3. Is it kind?

This blog has effectively been a journal of thought for me. I sit down and write about something I am thinking, reading or chatting to friends about. It is a first draft. I have intentionally forced myself to write almost every day to build a habit of writing. It has also forced me to get over the 'is it good enough gate' which can prevent anything happening at all. Many thoughts are rubbish. Many ideas don't make sense. Often thoughts are disconnected, and the narrative exists in my head rather than on the paper. If the narrative exists at all.

What I do know is that I am not unique. Inside all our heads is this crazy place where we are trying to make sense of the world. We all have to take years and years to learn to be kind to ourselves because we have no choice but to listen to our own cacophony. To discard thoughts that try derail us. To let go of thoughts that over stay their welcome. We don't get to leave ourselves. There is no escape hatch unlike a world where we can choose to leave the neighbourhood we grew up in, the job we don't like, or the friends and family who form our community.

Alain de Botton talks in 'How Proust Can Change Your Life' about just how many drafts Proust went through to create his masterpieces. Editing. Cutting out. Rereading. Beauty lies somewhere between being brave enough to put thoughts out there when they are unformed, and being willing to be detached enough from what has been said to find the truth in amongst the noise that resonates. Our stories are alive because they change. We are our stories.

Productive Nibbles

I feel as, if not more, productive than when I was working. The only constraint I have on my day is to write a blog post. I also do about 30 minutes a day of searching for interesting people on Twitter to try and consciously break down my bubble. People I wouldn't normally hear from. The rest of the day comes free. I sometimes read. Sometimes walk. Sometimes run. Sometimes meet people. There is less of a grand plan than I was used to.

This is partly a response to Tim Minchin's idea of being 'Micro-ambitious'. An hour or two of writing a day adds up over the 20 months I have been doing it. By nibbling away, and adding space, I feel like I am able to get to better questions. One of my initial aims was to become a constant beginner. I don't like specialising. It forces me to choose in a world that is so complexly beautiful, any choice would be a lottery because of my large cloud of ignorance. By being a constant beginner, I can learn to get over the discomfort of feeling like an incompetent idiot. Perhaps enjoy the discomfort because it means I am learning. I can learn the humour and patience required to push through early barriers. I can always have lots of 'colleagues' struggling through similar issues to me. Comrades in arms who let me know I am not alone.

One of the things missing in some work is when we lose those one or two hours a day of being at the boundary of our skill and effort. Too little skill required creates boredom. Too much creates anxiety. If we are able to add flow, that point where we are doing something we love and it has our full concentration, then the engine really starts. Whether it is at the edge of going deep as as specialist, or wide as a beginner.

My flow has increasingly come from conversation with people. From listening to see how the way they see the world can enrich my view.

What are you doing when you are flowing? Do you do a little every day?

Uncertainty, Complexity and Ambiguity

I managed to catch up with a friend yesterday who is a big fan of the writing of David Foster Wallace. I had watched most of (the plane landed) 'The End of the Tour' recently and asked him what he thought. Movies have to create a story. One of the themes of Wallace's thinking was the 'Double Bind' that some writers have. They want to write about normal things and not appear to pretend to have things sorted out, or to be putting themselves on a pedestal, and yet to say something helpful or useful or meaningful, you have to put yourself out there. Put views out that may be a solution. The spinning wheel of self-reflection will mean you always think you are wrong, but have to carry on. 

My friend spoke of life being a combination of uncertainty, complexity, and ambiguity. We need to accept that we simply aren't capable of understanding everything. Of finding an answer. We can't always know in advance what 'the right thing to do is'. There aren't simple links of cause and effect. Things are never clear. There are always tradeoffs, advantages, disadvantages, costs, benefits, doubts, hopes, fears, opportunity costs and difficulties. 

I like that way of describing it and would add the idea of noise. There are lots of things that happen for no reason. That happen simply because they can. That aren't part of a narrative. Often those things are wonderful moments that come and go. That can be savoured and released. Often they are painful. They happen parallel to the story. They bump the story off course.

Patterns are fun. Patterns create stories and I think they are the only way we can view the world. It is how we are wired. Life is a combination of fact and fiction. We can join the dots in the way that we find most amusing. Most meaningful. We can create the life we want through our stories with occasional reality checks.

We will never understand. That doesn't really matter. No one will. Just keep on keeping on.

Conversations & Correspondence

We talk about some stuff. Other stuff you only get to find out by spending time together. It is very hard to put things into words. Words don't even mean the same things to different people. They mean the connections they evoke. Those connections build up over time. They build through friendships. Through experiences. Through mistakes. Through successes. Some of what binds us together can't be communicated.

Part of what I would like to do with this blog is write about the real experiences of real people. Because communication is so hard, we often only hear from the writers. The artists. The musicians. There is a lot of untapped wisdom in the people who tend to just get on with it. No songs. No dances. No mess. No fuss. It would be a pity if our stories were only those of the singers and dancers.

I invite two types of contributions to this blog. If you would like to write your own post, that would be great (trevorjohnblack@gmail.com). The alternative is a Guest Conversation. In these, I write 100 words, then you do, then I do. We each have five turns. The fun bit is that we aim to build on what the other person has said 'Theatre Sport' style. 100 words isn't that intimidating, and because we work together, it helps get over the block of having to think of something worthwhile to say in advance. I am not a big believer in waiting for inspiration. Inspiration comes by starting. Inspiration is a habit.

Another block I am very aware of is the fear of doing things in public. We can do conversations that we don't publish. Ideally through a walk and talk, but old school correspondence works. Maybe even by snail mail. I work through ideas best in conversation. Particularly with someone who I trust. Where I can say something and see how it fits. I don't like a 'devil's advocate' approach where people actively try tear down what others are saying. I like constructive engagement. Where you take what people say and see what interesting questions are in there. What words clearly mean different things? What experiences lie behind those meanings? Where we listen.

Walking and Talking in Nature

One of the best parts of being human is that we get to learn together. We can tap into the collective experiences we have had. We can feel mistakes without making them. We can get emotionally involved with stories in a way that makes us feel like we had actually lived them. 

Life is a shared story.

Behind the Tree

There once was a man from Jozi.
Who listened from behind a tree.
If strongly offended,
when his view was upended,
he'd jump out oozing rage with glee.

He'd shout aloud,
Sending voice to the clouds.
Breaking hearts.
Turning carts.
Bending knees.

When he walked away,
having had his say.
No one followed.
No one changed.
None took heed.

He was not on their side,
his words were just jibes.
No reasons to follow.
No feelings, no sorrows.
No part in their lives had he.

Why he hid was uncertain.
The tree was his curtain.
It covered his fears,
and had done for years.
The tree world was all he could see.

He thought he had heard,
each and every word.
But the feelings, the meanings, 
the substance and dreamings,
get muffled from behind the tree.

Out he stepped one day,
with nothing to say.
Just to listen.
Just to hear.
Just to see.

- This post is part of a Tandem Series where seven writers all use the same title every Tuesday for four weeks -

I have been introduced to Dave Luis and his blog 'Bloggsy Malone' through this series. He writes in a raw, emotional way, about his feelings. Feelings inspired primarily by food and beautiful sights. The pleasures of life and the challenges dancing with those pleasures presents. Have a look what lies 'Behind the Tree'.

- Nick - Brett - Candice - Dave -  Ashley - Megan - 

- 'The Missing Voice' - 'Behind The Tree' -

For Hugging, Not Hiding

What Do You Do?

One of my best buddies vetoed my answer to his girlfriend's 'What do you do?'. Another just laughed, and said 'Is that what you are going with?'. All I had said was, 'I am a writer'. The truth is more complicated than that, but it is funny how easy most people find that question to answer even though the truth is more complicated.

In 2011, I started renting an Art Studio at the Wimbledon Art Studios. If renting an art studio makes you an artist, did I stop being an artist four years later when I gave up my studio to tighten up on expenses? Do you have to have sold work? How much? So does that exclude Van Gogh? Do you have to have done formal studies? Then what about the self-taught artists? At what point are you allowed to call yourself something? Another way I have cut back is that I have resigned as an Actuary. No membership fees in exchange for no FIA after my name. Just call me Trev.

Last day in my Art Studio a year ago

In India, most Gurus are self proclaimed. If one person follows you, you are a Guru. In truth, you don't need one person to follow you. If you are the only one who realises you are a Guru, you are. Some like the idea of more formal certification, titles, professional bodies and various other signals. I like the 'Stephen Hawking' idea. I have heard he uses no titles or letters after his name. Admittedly, the guy is so famous his name is a title. Labels give short cuts in an anonymous world.

'What do I do?'. Each day I wake up, preferably without an alarm, and do some reading before I write my blog post for the day. The rest of the day is free. I try to be 'micro-ambitious'. I like the framework I have learnt through Yoga. The five points focus on proper exercise, breathing, relaxation, diet and thinking. Progress is tiny and incremental. Each day, I try work another ache out of my body and learn something new. I try create space to read and think about the things that matter to people that matter to me. I try make myself available to spend time with people.

I stopped working for a salary about a year and a half ago. I am attempting to let my savings be my breadwinner while I focus on life building. If I spend less than my money makes, then I can keep that up. That is a general rule. If you use less than you put in, what you are doing is sustainable. If you use more, you are a consumer. 'How much is enough' depends on you. It is embarrassing to see how little material stuff the majority of the world's population get by on. The median household income of the rich OECD countries in 2011 was $19,000. Roughly 1.2 Billion people 'live' on less than $1.25/day. That is not enough, but enough is less than you think.

OECD Household Income

We mostly define ourselves by our work. Answering the question with 'I am retired' got awkward. I don't believe in retirement. I say writer because it is something I do every day. Perhaps I could answer the question, 'I make time'. The friend who laughed at my answer also hasn't figured out his answer. John's project is Unogwaja. He is trying to figure out how to be a partner to people who are trying to do good work. Trying to inspire fun and togetherness as we figure out what it is we need to do. And get on with it.

Jedi Mind Tricks

A friend of mine claims I spend 60% of my time mastering Jedi mind tricks to pressure people into writing for my blog. His delays are just fighting the power. Unfortunately, the force is not strong with me. I won't lie, I love it when I get people who are keen to write guest posts. 

My aim though is to find how I can help. By writing every day, I have developed a habit. I was always amazed by the professional writers I worked with. John could have a conversation with people and, an hour or two later, send out a draft ghost written article that I would have agonised over for weeks. An Unogwajan Marathon runner I met, Tiago, had run 400 marathons. To the point where he just gets up and goes for a run like I make a cup of tea. He isn't killing himself. He enjoys it and his body has adjusted. Tiago and John have a habit.

We are all motivated in very different ways. We all like being reminded or encouraged in different ways. For some a reminder is a nag. Others actually like the structure of being in an environment where they are told what to do. Another friend of mine said he really enjoys being micromanaged. Being micromanaged drives me nuts. For him, he is able to completely outsource the icky motivational stuff and just get on with doing things.

I think we should be able to hire and fire our bosses. Like musicians or tennis stars. Find a team that helps bring out the best in you. The job of a boss should be to take obstacles out of the way. To find barriers to creativity and destroy them.

This is the guest blog post you were looking for, move along

Occupational Hazards

Most strengths have associated weaknesses if they are overused. We know this from it's opposite and the unfair interview question of 'what are your weaknesses?'. The normal response is trotting out things like 'I can be a bit of a perfectionist/ I can be a bit bossy when things need to get done/... My awesomeness often irritates people'. There are Occupational Hazards that can be be tough to avoid. If you are a lawyer trained to find holes in arguments, it can be difficult to switch that off when you are listening to your friends. If you are a psychologist, it can be difficult not to analyse the people close to you. If you are a doctor, it can be difficult to show empathy to someone with a few sniffs and a severe, debilitating case of man flu.

I have spent the last 15 months writing daily blog posts, and thinking about happiness and learning. One of the criticisms of the modern world is that we don't have time to think. I have time to think. We don't have time for our friends and family. I have time for friends and family. We don't notice things because our heads are absorbed by work worries. I have time to notice things.

By writing every day, looking for ideas has become a habit. Almost every conversation becomes a potential blog post. Almost every interaction becomes a dot that I might be able to connect to something else. The very human characteristic of trying to see patterns in everything becomes what I am almost always thinking about. The problem is you can end up like John Nash in a cabin in the backyard seeing patterns that aren't actually there. Some things are just random, unconnected, inconsistent, noise.

Connecting Dots for the sake of it

I regularly get asked what my biggest take home has been. Despite thinking simplifying things down to 100 words is a useful exercise, I don't think it is a great way of giving answers. It is a good way of getting new, more beautiful, questions. I don't think I have big take homes yet. I started out with the idea of '100 hour projects'. By self-experimenting on learning things that I had previously thought I wasn't good at, I could extract richness from areas of experiences I had ruled out. I could write about barriers to learning. Instead of 10,000 hours and becoming World Class, wouldn't it be great to just get over the first hurdles that often stop us before we start. I thought 'First 100 hours' was catchy. I even bought first100hrs.com. Then I discovered Josh Kaufman's 'The First 20 hours'. Between that and Tim Ferris' 'The 4-hour work week', I wasn't sure I could add anything particularly useful.

My approach shifted to simply creating space in my day, and in my head. And seeing what happened. My goals narrowed from the other interview question 'Where do you see yourself in 5 years time', to how can I just have a great day. I heard Tim Minchin's talk on micro-ambition and it resonated with me. I had always had very long term plans. I wanted to learn to write. I decided to day that. By writing.

One thing that happened with the space is that I don't think it is about getting answers. It may not even be about seeing patterns. One of the most powerful stories of the last year came from two sources, both connected to two extended family members I hadn't spent much time with. One is my cousin Charles who is a chronic pain psychologist. He helps people to stop trying to fix things. By accepting that pain is chronic, they are able to make mental space to look beyond the pain. The pain just is. But it isn't more. The other part of the story came from Morfar (literally mother's father. My cousin's wife's Dad*). Morfar had experienced chronic pain throughout his life because of gallstones and has the Swedish record for the most removed over a lifetime. He is a very positive, very friendly man who has learned to cope.

So I don't think the point is to figure out some secret to happiness. Or to spot a pattern that may lead to an insight that will change peoples lives. I think the point is to accept things. To value people. To do the best you can. The world is rich with connections that matter.

Already.

*The Swedes are very literal in their names. The Stockholm 'cousin' I was visiting's Father is my Grandfather's cousin. Introducing me to the Vikings was awkward.

A Little Book

Most books are too long. They make a point and then pad it up with enough examples till it gets heavy enough to look booky. They end up over booked and under ideaed. Would you pay the same for a book that looked like a pamphlet? How long does it have to be before it shifts from essay to book? It is a little like going to a university formal dance and the gourmet food arrives but the portions are tiny. It may be much fancier food than the residence dining hall, but if it doesn't touch sides it isn't dinner. It's tapas.

Last night I was invited to a book launch at 'The Society Club' in London. I hadn't read the book and didn't even know the author's name. I went because a friend invited me. As an occupational hazard, I feel like an impostor if I haven't done my homework before going to something. You earn rights to other people's thoughts by having thoughts on your own. Don't ask a question till you have at least googled it. All that stuff. Turns out it wasn't a problem. The author read us the whole book. It took 15 minutes.

'Learning from George' by Adrian Hornsby

It was amazing. Adrian Hornsby recounted his time at Shakespeare & Company in Paris. After leaving the UK for a European experience and teaching English in Prague, he moved to Paris to be in a place where he felt a little more competent in the language (he didn't feel like learning Czech). He ended up with a character named George and a bunch of other misfits. I won't spoil the story.

The book is a Paravion Press production, 'We like books. Real books. Paper and ink. And we like letters. Real letters. Paper and ink also. Words, a story, from one person to another, sent from one place to another, arriving in the mail. A rare pleasure these days.' So this book is short enough and small enough to fit in an envelope. The front page is blank to write a little note. Then you put it in the mail.

I think this is a beautiful idea. I got a few extra. If you would like one send me an email at trevorjohnblack@gmail.com. If there are less than four of you, I will send you one from Gipsy Hill, London. I will write something in it. With a pen. Then I will put a stamp on it. It will then start its journey from me to you. It will take a while. Once you have read it, perhaps you can send it to someone else?

I am fascinated by a world of full transparency and no transaction costs. Especially in the areas that don't matter and don't add value. Sometimes though, I do think a little mystery, a little personalisation and the investment of a little time adds a sprinkle of magic that makes life taste better. Little can be better.

Thanks Adrian for your little book.

Waiting for Inspiration

We have incredibly powerful imaginations. This lets us play. When we let go and dive into that wonderful place between reality and our dreams, we empower ourselves to release some false realities. We empower ourselves to push beyond what we know. Because there is more.

Children know this. They have not yet defined themselves and so filtered out any potential source of joy. Today they may be a fireman. Tomorrow a princess. As we get a little more serious and a little bit more sure of our reality, our confidence grows that we 'understand the way the world works' in our own little niche. We stop playing. We look for facts.

Creativity requires a little play. By definition you can't be doing something new if you have done it before. We need to look to our imaginations. There is a temptation to wait for inspiration to strike. The mood to set in. The epiphany to burst light and energy into your thoughts. Waiting   can      lead    to         more              and                        more                                    w a  i   t    i    n      g.

Professional writers can't afford to believe in writer's block. They sit down and are often on deadline - so they write. Sometimes what they write is incredible. Sometimes it isn't. The first draft may be awful and then get honed. 'How Proust can change your life' tells of the number of edits Proust used to go through until his finely honed texts were finished. The Epiphany becomes hard to identify. The hard work less so. 

Picasso's story is rather inspirational. He was prolific. Besides always trying new things, his trick seemed to be that he was always trying. He didn't do a lot of waiting. Creativity becomes a habit. I have tried to follow that approach with this blog as I attempt to improve my writing. The best way to become a writer is to write. Unfortunately that means you get subjected to my first draft posts. It is a blog after all so I am not going to apologise too profusely. The discipline of writing a post every day means I am always thinking of ideas. I am listening more. I am watching more. Then I sit down and write. Typically it will take me anywhere between 30 and 90 minutes. Then I publish. That act of pressing the publish button normally is sufficient to bump the calluses off my eyes and catch a couple of typos. Which I can then correct (possibly after a friendly message from you). I don't believe little mistakes should stop you trying to develop a creative habit.

First drafts aren't great. But the idea that you can wait for a fully formed idea to smack you in the face with its neatly tied little pink bow is just plain silly. Play. If you are too serious to play, you are being silly, and as a very very serious person - silliness should not be tolerated.

My very very serious person face

The Art of Pain

We learn through pain and turmoil. But if your artists are good enough, that pain and turmoil doesn't have to be a direct experience. Instead of (or as well as) confessing to priests and psychologists, what if we started telling our stories to artists who could tell them for us? Through plays, books, music, paintings, dance, we can see what is going on in other people's lives. If the only stories we hear are the ones experienced by those who know how to tell them, a lot gets hidden. 

The challenge is trust. We tell our stories to close friends or religious leaders, or we pay someone to listen. The expectation is that that is where the story will stay. When we interact with people, we assume they aren't going to post every detail online or in a book. We would definitely be less relaxed if everyone was wearing Google Glass with a live feed. We wouldn't be as honest. I have always wondered about Sports stars having awkward friendships knowing that tell all books are just over the horizon when people retire.

Humans have wonderful imaginations. Fiction can create entire worlds that get to the truth of a matter in this world. We like to think we are unique snowflakes. Instead I think we are unique combinations of very common flavours. We just don't how common some of our struggles are because we keep them to ourselves. Artists should be able to listen to stories and be able to squeeze out the truth juice while leaving the identity pulp behind. In that way they can protect the fragile bits of us that don't want people to know about our deep dark secrets. We may then find that aggregated, our deep dark secrets aren't actually uncommon at all. We can also talk 'in abstract' about art to people without them knowing we are struggling with those issues ourselves. A great example is 'The Humans' by Matt Haig. This beautiful, funny, piece of art captures some of the difficulties likely faced by many and does it with a sense of hope that doesn't trivialise the problems.

Just listening is a difficult art in itself. I tend to like practical solutions. That is what attracted me to the Yoga I do. If you aren't happy, there is a pretty simple checklist of things to do. Are you exercising? Are you eating right? Are you relaxing properly? Are you breathing properly? Are you thinking about things in a positive way? Sometimes though, 'it's not about the nail'. The person talking isn't actually looking for a solution. They are looking for someone who can listen. The artist can just listen, and then reflect back through their work what people are feeling.

Sugar and Spice (by Caron Angelbauer)

Guest Post: Caron Angelbauer

I met Caron in London through another friend, Tracy, but it turns out that my mother was actually her art teacher in high school. South Africans don't all know each other, this was a co-incidence. Caron is Managing Director at Starfish, studied Philosophy, and is into basically everything life has to offer posting beautiful evidence on Instagram. She is funny, witty and creative and has a wonderful perspective on what makes life tick. She writes magically and I am super chuffed to introduce hopefully the first many guest posts.

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Sugar and Spice

by Caron Angelbauer

Happiness is a butterfly flapping its beautiful paper thin wings - free, wild and uplifting. And then it's gone. So let's attempt to pin this beautiful butterfly in a photograph album.

Happiness is intrinsically subjective and unique for us all, with common flecks that overlap allowing funny bones to be tickled during comedy or cartoons. For me, happiness has morphed over my many years. I remember past lives of it being about learning how to swim, or Italian ice-cream on a hot day, stealing my brothers brand new bike/skateboard/radio controlled car and making them (and myself) do things they really shouldn't have done, success in sports- winning races, being part of a team working together to get that ball in a hoop or knock the hockey ball into the back of the net through to catching fish, the funfair or just standing on the coastline watching my feet sink deeper into the sand as waves crashed around my legs and pulled back out again. 

Later it was about getting lost in the music I loved at a number of clubs whilst pouring tequila down my throat until I was very wobbly afoot, learning how to drive and the independence of exiting school and starting university or just spending time with my wonderful and vastly eccentric friends and family... It was all about new experiences, jumping off a cliff into the sea, surfing, a first kiss with a guy I'd been eyeing for some time or spending time with my friends around a bonfire on a beach stoned out of my tiny little mind... through moving overseas to the UK and professional reward - throwing myself in the deep end and learning (fighting) to find success. Achievement = happiness.

Many years later with many lessons under my belt, I find myself looking for similar kinds of sugar but the volume of spice has definitely been turned up. 2014 has been one hell of a year. Its moved from being incredibly happy at the end of 2013 through to putting my house on the market, discovering my boyfriend had been cheating on me in every imaginable 21st century level of deception (and then some), falling completely out of love with my job, finding out I was pregnant and miscarrying within 6 weeks, discarding the dead weights in my world and finding a new world to live and work within. Sometimes we have all the puzzle pieces thrown in the air and need to see where they land. For me, the pieces are spelling happiness of a new order. Right now my happiness consists of discovering who I am again after such utter turmoil. Virtually every day provides a new revelation.... almost like learning to walk again. Rushing down a gorgeous slippery forest terrain on my bike with an ice cold crisp morning kissing my cheeks whilst my spaniel gallops beside me provides happiness. Working within a dynamic design industry surrounded by super intelligent people is a vast inspiration. Rediscovering international foods, music, design, art, sculpture, people and languages is the best medicine... but still, for me, my happiest place is tucking into bed at night with my cocker spaniel slipping in behind my knees with a contented sigh, and starting every day with that very same cocker spaniel flopping a fluffy paw on my shoulder and wagging her spritely tail. There is no need to rush for thrills anymore... it's the simple things in life that lifts the heart and spreads a joyous contented smile.

A photo posted by @mscaronangel on Dec 12, 2014 at 2:09am PST

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In writing a blog about several topics in which I admit to being a complete beginner, I am going to have to rely heavily on the people I am writing for who cumulatively know most of what I am likely to learn already. I would love it if some of you found the time to write a guest post on the subject of happiness or learning. The framework I use for thinking about these things is what I call the '5 + 2 points' which includes proper (1) exercise, (2) breathing, (3) diet, (4) relaxation, (5) positive thinking & meditation, (+1) relationships, (+2) flow. Naturally if you would like to write about something that you think I have missed, I would love to include that too. If you are up to doing something more practical, it would be awesome if you did a 100 hour project and I am happy to do the writing based on our chats if that is how you roll. Email me at trevorjohnblack@gmail.com

Beneath the Surface

Ken Robinson points out that if you ask a classroom full of 5 year olds who can draw, they all put their hands up. If you ask a group of 15 year olds who can draw, perhaps one or two will. At some point we learn what we are good at and we create an identity around that. We direct our activities towards the things where we are technically competent in a way that can be objectively assessed - i.e. we work for marks. School and then university become a filtering process where your identity is sifted out. I worked for 18 months at a school in Chichester which really encouraged music. In fact I ended up taking up piano while I was there and learning my middle c alongside 6 year olds. It really was a wonderful place which actively found a place for the creative side of learning. The music teacher from that school, Alex, shared this article which looks at the role of arts in education - Dance, Art, Music, Writing, Drama. More particularly, it also looks at how the arts can be left aside in education when money is tight and we start to prioritise.

Art from one of my favourite 5 year olds, Justin

Excluding the arts is as dangerous as excluding business skill for those who pursue the arts. The idea that we need to define ourselves and super specialise is a problem. The word 'balance' is often used, but I am trying to think of another one. I don't like balance because it doesn't seem to quite capture that we can be more effective by not neglecting the balancing items. The goal should be to educate you in all the skills that are needed in life. Some of these are tangible, but some come as a side product.

I did a semester of Computer Science at university. I really enjoyed it but it was just a filler course and I can't remember any of the programming that I learnt. What I do remember is that it taught a way of thinking. In writing code, it showed the value of structuring thoughts in a way that is easy to follow in order to find mistakes. It helped take ideas and distill them down to very clear, unambiguous instructions. I can't remember how to code, but that lesson stuck with me. The arts is similar but more pervasive than that. 

As I am relearning the piano, I am being forced to slow right down. I have to build the muscles in my fingers. I have to learn to connect them to what I see on the page. The left and right hand won't coordinate at first and are playing different parts. I have to slowly get to the point where they can do their own thing but fit together. As it comes together, the rhythm starts to appear after hiding as my fingers stumbled. This process seems to train patience and problem solving better than any of the courses I did in Business Science.

It is one thing to learn to identify problems. It is another to learn the process of solving them and that is where the arts come  into their own. The very goal of the arts is to look beneath the surface at the stuff that isn't obvious. It isn't good enough to be technically competent. You can't just learn the words in drama. You have to fight with them, chew them, and feel them until they come to life.

Education should be careful not to filter out the flavour.