Outside our Reality

In Vedantic Philosophy (which is the foundation of Yoga), Siddhis are spiritual, supernatural, or other magical powers that are the product of Sadhana (practice). In my understanding, this is mastery. Sadhana is Purposeful Practice. Siddhis seem magical because they are so far above what we believe is possible, yet someone is doing it. They are outside our understanding. Outside our Reality. Excellence and Mastery are very attractive. They are also dangerous. Even Swamis are still students of Yoga, and no one is further along the path than anyone else. It isn’t that type of path. Taken in the context of privilege and opportunity, no one is impressive. Yet application is still impressive. Merit, out of context, is the same. We see excellence, and that can make people think they are Gods of a sort. Touched. Chosen. Unique. Above. Arthur C. Clarke’s law “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic” applies to mastery too. It isn’t the master that is impressive. It is the glimpse into what is truly possible, and how far that is from the constraints we put on ourselves. Behind most of what impresses us is a curtain someone isn’t keen for you to look through.

Arthur C. Clarke on set 2001: Space Odyssey

Training your Elephant

Shallow learning is when you force feed your Elephant, and then it goes round the corner and gets rid of it. Would you pass your school exams if you sat them now? We value Conscious Knowledge, but our Elephants are actually way smarter than us (if by us we mean the narrating Riders in our heads). Smarter, if we feed them slowly. The Rider takes the credit and explains away mistakes, but the Elephant does the doing. The Elephant absorbs and processes. The Elephant has the intuitive genius. The stuff that appears magical to us... because it requires no conscious thought. Like walking. Like talking. Like the basic tasks that impress us so much when babies learn them, but that we only remember are really complicated when we get injured. Don't force feed your Elephant. Train it. Slowly.  Patiently. Every day. Consciously. Then let go, and be amazed by the magic that compounds.

Magic Time

Derren Brown debunks magicians. A lot of things seem like magic. Things we don't understand. British Science Fiction Writer Arthur C. Clark famously said, 'Any technology sufficiently advanced is indistinguishable from magic.' The way Brown debunks magic is by showing that he is able to perform the same tricks.

Derren Brown

I believe investing is the same. There are no magic tricks. The key things in your control are (1) how much you spend, and (2) how much you invest. How much you start with, get given, earn, or how much your money earns are much less under your control. Seth Klarman said, 'The real secret to investing is that there is no secret to investing. Every important aspect of value investing has been made available to the public many times over, beginning in 1934 with the first edition of Security Analysis. That so many people fail to follow this timeless and almost foolproof approach enables those who adopt it to remain successful.'

Most of the stories we hear are about the big successes and failures. Stories on the edges. The majority of us need to deal with reality. Not magic. Do the research. Find out what your options are. Find out what you need to do to increase your number of options. Pick one. Make a plan. Surround yourself with people who can help you stick to your plan.

I believe in building Engines. An Engine is something that can earn more than you spend. An Engine is something that can free you to make non-monetary decisions. That takes time, not magic. Time is the only magic I believe in. There is no short-cut. It takes delayed gratification, discipline, calm, and patience. Engine Building is far more about Emotional Intelligence than being book smart.

Huge returns are mostly luck. You can't plan for that. Epic failures are a lot easier to plan for. The best investment strategy is to avoid being stupid. Howard Marks said, 'When there is nothing particularly clever to do, the potential pitfall lies in insisting on being clever.' Once a solid plan is in place, normally the best thing to do is nothing.

The strategy I support is a 15-year plan. If somehow you can get your spending under control, so that with discipline you can match dollar-for-dollar what you spend and what you invest, then you will be well on track. What that investment earns is much less under your control. But, if it is in a vehicle that is left alone, I don't think 5% (after all expenses) is a completely unreasonable long-term goal. If you are lucky, a little more will shorten the time required. A little less will lengthen it.

If you are able to match your spending for 15 years, and your investment earns 5% a year after expenses, you will have a powerful Engine.

Invest 50%. For 15 years. At 5%.

50-15-5

This is not magic. Although the results are magical.

Black One

When we listen to a language we don't understand, there is just a string of sound. The idea of spaces in between words for reading wasn't the way writing started either. Scrolls were just strings of letters. Punctuation to help us understand came later (Emojis even later). The same is true of the way we see. Part of our ability to see in 3 dimensions comes from memory. We rapidly recognise objects and from their size, and the relationship we expect between them, our minds are able to create the world we see. A mass of intermingled blue, green, and brown becomes the sky, leaves and a tree.

Meaning creates our world. Things that matter have meaning. What we see depends on what we've seen. The rest is a blur of sound, colour, smells, objects, and people. Game of Thrones is nasty to us. It makes characters meaningful to us before it gets rid of them. We are unaffected by the string of deaths in battle scenes. Create a connection, and a single death can be gutting.

Part of what fascinates me with Mentalists as magicians is their ability to add meaning to the world. The incredible memory tricks come through paying attention and creating connections. They 'build worlds' in their heads with paths between ideas that matter to them. They see the same blur of a world going past as we do, but they have learnt more of the words. They have learnt more of the sounds. They have learnt more of the smells. All these different sources of flavour create a richer world.

Three shades of Black - Grandfather in trademark overalls in the workshop

One blur for me has been mechanical things. My Grandfather is at his happiest when he is elbow deep in grease in his garage and my Dad did mechanical engineering. It is therefore weird that I am not 'mechanically minded'. This is not true though. I just haven't learnt the language. So when my brother who has done the Cape Epic asked me what commuting bike I bought in London 7 years ago, my answer was a 'Black One'. I understand the language of colour.

Everybody knows a Dave. One of my favourite Dave's is my brother.

It is time for all that to change. Yesterday my brother joined me in a Bike shop to point out the options. I went into another one this morning, and will check out another one this afternoon. It is still all a blur to me, but it is starting to matter. Once I actually get on my bike and start riding, new blurs will start making sense. I am looking forward to discovering the bike lanes of London and surrounds. The ones that don't head into the centre of town and work. The ones that aren't competing with Big Red Busses. Those busses made me put the 'Black One' aside to gather dust. In Bus v Trev, Bus wins everytime. Busses scare me more than sharks or terrorists.

I am looking forward to seeing how getting on a bike changes the way I see the world.

Like Magic

Derren Brown is a magician who doesn't believe in a magic. At least not it the mystical sense. He frequently denounces those who claim psychic or paranormal abilities and yet performs the same tricks that they do. The thing is that with sufficient mastery, people can develop skills that appear to be magical. I find touch typing a little magical. That my fingers become an extension of what I am thinking after sufficient practise still leaves me in awe when I do think about it. Before the printing press and widespread literacy, even the ability to communicate over long distances must have seemed magical. We used to be able to take technology apart and then put it back together to figure out how it worked. Nowadays you take things apart at your peril. I like the idea of a deity messing with us. We have become so used to someone just saying something works (without divine intervention) that we may accept something that is impossible without even batting an eyelid.

Derren Brown

Source: www.theatrepeople.com

We also ascribe some learning to an inherent talent, and so if there is a struggle assume that means that we are not good at it or it is not meant to be. This ignores the hump before a skill is learnt and our different approaches to dealing with the hump. For some, they are able to pick up momentum early on. They grasp enough to start to believe they have a natural talent and so push on. For others, they need to fight on despite a feeling of clumsiness and self doubt. Some other sort of love for the subject needs to push them on.

At some stage the magic kicks in with most fields. My first boss used to magically be able to identify the two or three things I felt slightly uncomfortable about in a report with a few minute skim read. Magic but not magic. Chess masters can simultaneously play multiple boards against multiple opponents at the same time. Magic but not magic. I was going to use Federer as my third example, but I think he was put here by the deity I mentioned who was tricking us. I am not fooled.

I wrote about how Derren Brown's 'Mind Tricks' gave me an insight into hypnosis in 'Faking It'. The essence is that all hypnosis is is a deep state of relaxation and openness to suggestibility. This releases all sorts of potential because while useful, our scepticism also restricts us based on what we think is or isn't possible, or what we think are or aren't our talents. I think scepticism is very useful and it is actually more healthy to be aware of your clumsiness and self doubt. The world is complicated and being too confident that you get it, is a recipe for disaster. At the same time, excessive self doubt can stop you making the magical leaps to things that are actually possible but leave you with a sense of awe.

In the same way I argue for a 'Bull Quota' when listening to others to get to the good stuff, I think we need to learn to allow ourselves similar leeway when learning. The way to rationalise this is that these are emotional techniques that help us because we aren't completely rational. If the tricks help and no one gets hurt, then there is no harm done. Amy Cuddy makes a powerful case for using body language in this way. If we know that 'faking it' makes the 'faking' disappear, then perhaps we are being fake by not faking it?