All The Other Things
Note: last week’s newsletter seems to have landed in a lot of spam filters, so I’m using a new platform this week. You can read last week’s newsletter here, if you missed it, and you can read (or share) this and future issues in your browser at colin.substack.com.
The loss of peripheral perception—often called “tunnel vision”—is a common affliction faced by people in the midst of a disaster.
It makes sense that if your home is torn apart by a tornado and you’re searching for loved ones in the rubble, that your brain and body might help you achieve a state of ultra-focus, literally reducing your range of perception to eliminate possible distractions.
This can sometimes be a helpful superpower, especially in short bursts.
But like anything that intense and limiting, you wouldn’t want it to last longer than a few minutes. Yes, it’s important to focus on a very few, survival-related components of your environments in some circumstances, but to lack broader perspective in the long-term is far less desirable—even dangerous, at times.
A lack of more complete situational awareness can leave us exposed to future dangers. Tunnel vision can help us solve the problem of the moment, but it may cause us to stumble into a downed electrical cable or fail to notice that we have a cut that needs disinfecting and bandaging.
A temporary, increased depth of perception in one direction can be beneficial, but a complete lack of breadth of perception can be just as harmful as what our bodies are trying to help us overcome.
That surge in adrenaline can also leave us wrung out, worn down, and depleted.
We’re capable of impressive feats of strength, memory, and cleverness when we’re granted this level of intensity. But those amped up attributes come at a cost: physiological, but also mental.
All the other things that make life worth living, the people we care about, the goals we have, the tweaks we’d like to make to our lives and to the world, and the seeds we’ve planted—literal and figurative—tend to fall by the wayside when we’re under the influence of tunnel vision.
It’s prudent, though, to spare a thought, spare some time, spare some functional brain and muscle power, for these other aspects of life. These are the things that make us who we are, both as individuals and as societies.
Yes, it’s important that we retain an of awareness of the disaster unfolding around us. And yes, it’s important that we maintain the rituals and habits we’ve had to learn and introduce, at times with much difficulty, into our lives and way of thinking in order to stave off some of the worst effects of that disaster.
Thinking about things that exist outside of that ongoing state of preparedness, though, is vital for our sense of health and our sense of self.
Learning, loving, feeling inspired, being curious, entertaining ourselves, challenging ourselves, aspiring to things beyond our current capabilities, experiencing the full range of human emotion, and becoming—every day—a better version of who we were yesterday; these are all priorities, alongside hand-washing and social distancing. It’s just that their benefits are measured differently, and we’re less likely to be reminded of their importance, day to day.
There are legitimate fears and concerns to be feeling right now, and it’s rational to be prepared and aware and to have a healthy respect for the threat we face.
What’s important, though, is that we sometimes take off our blinders and allow ourselves to start thinking about what exists on the periphery of our vision, again. That we turn our heads from time to time, to look away—not ignore or discount, but simply change our focus—and think about other things; even if just for a little while.
I’ve been posting photos from my travels on Instagram, lately, as a means of remembering places I’ve enjoyed and sharing them with others, even though those places are out of reach right now. Here’s a snap from Reykjavík, Iceland, during the Winter Solstice; it was taken around noon.
Updates
As I mentioned briefly at the top of this newsletter, the last issue was caught in a lot of spam filters—I suspect because of the increased length, due to the stories that I’ve been sharing—so I’ve moved the publication over to Substack, to see if that helps. A bonus benefit of this decision is that there’s now a web-based version of the newsletter, as well, which is easier to share and reference later, if you care to.
There’s another batch of stories sent in by readers below; these continue to be utterly fascinating and valuable, to me, personally.
There are also more resources—links to interesting things to see, do, and learn—down near the bottom of this newsletter.
Also: I’ve soft-launched a podcast version of my Brain Lenses project. The submission process for podcast libraries is taking longer than usual, understandably, so as of right now it’s not available in most podcast apps. But you can get a preview of the show (and add it to your podcast app manually, if you’re keen) at BrainLenses.com. I’ll hopefully be able to announce a more formal launch and widespread availability next week :)
Community: Your Stories
I’m fortunate to have folks from around the world reading my work, and one of the main benefits of producing this newsletter is that I get to hear from people living in all kinds of places, who have very different circumstances and backgrounds and expectations for the future, but who nonetheless are willing to write to a stranger from the internet and share what they're up to, what they're thinking about, and other such insights.
This section is an attempt to share some of that with you.
Note: Everyone here has given permission for their words to be shared in this way, and the messages are lightly edited for typos and to remove personal messages to me.
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Kids in our neighborhood miss school and their friends. They will have 4 more weeks of lockdown here in California.
So the teachers decorated their cars, opened their sunroofs and organized a drive by for all their kids. Just waving made students and teachers so much happier.
Inga
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I was on a university field course in Antarctica when the pandemic broke. Our school went online and grad was cancelled, but my class was still together. Our ship was held in quarantine for an extra week before disembarking, so in light of it all we presented our theses and graduated at sea. Southernmost graduation ever? After police lockdowns and airport mayhem, we made it back home. Now most of us are isolating on a very quiet campus, supporting each other, trying to figure out what comes next.
(Note from Colin: I asked for more details, which he graciously provided.)
The course was an exhilarating interdisciplinary experience, essays and lectures and zodiac excursions. We explored what it means to explore, our carbon debts, the ecology and politics and tourism. Life was surprisingly abundant, and the scale of the landscape, the ocean, and ice is beyond words. I learned most simply being there, being still.
Before getting on the ship, I was health checked three times, and my clothes were cleaned for biosecurity. The crew printed little 2 page news packets each day (which was a very refreshing and condensed way to be informed, better than scrolling Twitter), and almost every story was on the virus. Between our departure and return, the world became a very different place, and it was surreal to read about it from afar. On Friday 13 our course tutor informed us our uni was closing, the grad ceremony and our thesis symposium was cancelled, and between that and polar plunging, icebergs, and wildlife, the rest of the day was an emotional roller coaster. The next day the expedition leader informed us we would not be touching down on any more land in Antarctica, and speeding back to port a day early, as the world increased travel restrictions. By the time we got to Ushuaia however, new orders required us to remain onboard for another week, thankfully retroactively counting our time in Antarctica as half our quarantine.
Anchored near Ushuaia, the ship gave us free wifi, and I was bombarded with the internet once again. On Instagram I saw my fellow seniors had thrown a grad ceremony in the forest behind campus. We decided to do the same. In our field course of 12 students, 8 of us are seniors, and the other 4 became the Antarctic Graduation Committee. We wore puffy jackets to match, construction paper caps, and the ship captain signed amazing makeshift diplomas. We had a whole ceremony on the equinox, our tutor gave a speech, and dozens of strangers cheered for us at the End of the World. A strange and beautiful bittersweet ending I will never forget.
Eventually we disembarked, put on police escorted buses to the airport, and a charter flight to Buenos Aires. Compared to my day there a few weeks prior, Buenos Aires was now basically empty except for police on every other corner. Some folks from the ship are still stuck there. We were temperature checked 3 times leaving Argentina (0 times entering Canada), and after cancelled flights and six stressful airports later we are finally back at our school, most of us self isolating for another 2 weeks together. It is quiet, and I never got to say goodbye to many. The few still here, I cannot hug. Life on the ship was precarious, but luxurious, probably the biggest grad ceremony, St. Patrick’s party, and bar karaoke around. In this new world with everyone else, I have no idea what my housing, employment, and community prospects will be. The grief feels looming, rather than acute. At least I can walk in the forest. I am with my classmates, for now. We are trying to structure our days like the ship, with little voice memo morning announcements in our group chat, shared meals, games and such. We are bonded from this.
Jacob
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PandaProject: I took on a coach for a two hour call about purpose and direction and it was soooo needed. Perfectly timed. I came away with renewed energy about using my time/talent/joy to bring meaning to other people. How that will look could be a few different things, but I feel that nervous scared excitement we all should feel more often. (In my opinion.)
Another project is diving deeper into self-worth and self-authority work. Monday I split up with a partner who lied to me about their social distancing and put me at risk, but I immediately missed their attention and affections even if ultimately harmful. But self validation is important and I’d like to come out of this months down the road a more present and whole partner to everyone.
Andrea
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Dear Colin,
What’s worse than a pandemic? An earthquake in the middle of a pandemic.
I live in Salt Lake City, UT and we had a 5.7 earthquake on March 18th at 7:09am and we’ve been having aftershocks (which are indistinguishable from earthquakes!) ever since.
I’m physically fine and all my utilities are intact. At least where I live, the earth has stopped shaking enough for me to calmly write you this email.
This was my first earthquake, I’m new to SLC and I don’t know anything about earthquakes. I didn’t even consider that Utah could have had earthquakes since I got here about 8 months ago.
I’m from Miami, FL - I know a lot about hurricanes - this didn’t help me at all on March 18th.
One of those bigger aftershocks came when I was in a google hangouts meeting with my boss. Mid-meeting, I said, “The earth is shaking, I have to go under the desk now.” And I immediately broke off the conversation, dove under my desk and covered my head. And my very sweet boss, who was clearly concerned said, “I’m here for you” from her home in Waltham, Massachusetts.
When it was over she asked, “Has this been happening all day?”
I answered yes and almost cried in front of my boss.
Lauren
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Hi Colin!
As a teenager I would like to thank you with all of my heart for this last newsletter. It really made me think and brought some peace in my mind and heart.
I've been struggling to keep myself busy and trying to keep up a schedule in order to be productive. But since the last week I have just felt my energy low...felt like there is no reason to be productive anymore. Also I am completely hopeless for my country as I keep reading news that many people are not collaborating to keep safe.
This started to worry me and stressed me out in a bad way.
Despite all of this, I use the isolation time to read and reflect on my goals and values. I've just joined two online courses to upgrade my knowledge and improve my skills. I'm also currently improving my writing abilities.
These last days I've been too much online on IG and twitter to stay in touch with my loved ones and also other people around the globe. I think this is an unprecedented opportunity for societies to explore the quality of the virtual world.
Today I decided to start my digital declutter in order to optimize the digital tools that I use, reclaim my leisure time and rethink about major and minor values in my life...so just wanted to thank you for your work and for this pandemic project. I'm sure it has and will comfort many people.
Kind regards,
Sarah
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Hi Colin
I am in the last semester of my graduation. I haven't stayed at home for more than a fortnight in three years now. But since college got suspended I'm probably gonna be at my parent's for around 3 months now (hopefully this thing will die down by then).
Unfortunately, college is back on :(
So now life is a mix of online classes, assignments and trying to fit all this into a fixed time-frame. My parents have always had strict waking, eating and sleeping hours and I have to abide by their rules as long as I'm living under their roof. No complaints though, mixing college and home is proving to be learning experience.
Hope you're keeping safe.
Love, Manik
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Good morning from England, Colin,
I've just finished your email 'Rethinking Everything'. It's reassuring to know I'm not the only one seeing the current situation as an opportunity to question our routines.
I've been a follower of yourself, The Minimalists, Dan Harris/10% Happier etc. for a long time, and techniques I've picked up have been useful in dealing with anxiety issues over the years. Hopefully without appearing arrogant, I consider myself relatively mindful of my actions and behaviours.
However, the recent UK lockdown has seen me double down on much-loved hobbies, particularly reading (currently Stephen Fry's An Ode Less Travelled) and yoga (I'm 8 days into SarahBethYoga's 30-day challenge on YouTube). Whilst I've always been an avid reader and practiced yoga several times a week, I believe the biggest enabler of investing more time in these is the lack of distraction that something else is happening elsewhere.
I don't believe I've been susceptible to FOMO (fear of missing out), but I realised I'd spent time searching (usually on that swallower of time, the internet) for something to do, somewhere to go, thinking the next search would reveal a local hidden gem. The past week I've just cracked on with what's around me and I've enjoyed it all the more.
This doesn't mean hidden gems remain hidden. The circumstances we’re in have seen local businesses adapting to survive and as a result they've ended up on my radar as something to support now, and pay a visit to later when restrictions of movement are relaxed.
As deaths from Covid-19 continue to rise, it's unlikely we're over the worst yet so it's too early to predict how life will be post-pandemic. But I hope we use this time, as you suggest in your email, to question what we do and enact changes for the better. Prominent figures in the UK are calling for Universal Basic Income, housing all homeless people and for businesses to permit more workers to work from home. Whilst it's taken a pandemic to force the discussion, part of me is frustrated that if these were possible why they weren't encouraged sooner.
Why do we wait for things to get really bad before we take action?
Hopefully it's not too late to make a difference.
Thanks again for the newsletters, podcasts and books. Stay safe.
James
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If you'd like to share your pandemic project and/or personal experiences in this bizarre time from your unique perspective, send me an email and tell me what's been going on and what’s been on your mind.
Community: Events
Last week I tried out Zoom as a community tool. The mini-meetup was a lot of fun, and a huge thanks to everyone who showed up: I truly enjoyed the conversation and hearing about what you’ve all been up to.
I’m going to use this next week to experiment with a tool called Streamlabs, which may give me some of what I’ve been looking for in terms of being able to stream but also collaborate and converse using existing web-based platforms (which means attendees won’t need to download any additional apps to participate, and should be able to tune in, worldwide, which is important to me).
No meetup this week, then, but I’ll hopefully have something sorted out for the following week.
Classifieds:
RetireJapan is the only English-language website focusing on personal finance, investing, and retirement in Japan. Best of all, we're a community that aims to share information and help each other. Come join us at retirejapan.com :)
“He knows not his own strength who hath not met adversity.” —William Samuel Johnson (Courtesy of Kenneth)
You are a beautiful human. You belong here. You are valuable. You are worthy of love. Courtesy of textureclothing.com.
The Optimal Living Daily podcast narrates minimalism blogs, including Colin's. Subscribe in a podcast app/Spotify or listen at OLDPodcast.com
Wherever you are, you're not alone. We're in this together. You're doing great, keep it up. (Courtesy of Jonathan)
Classifieds support the publication of this newsletter and the folks who buy them are the reason I’m able to publish it each week. They’re also a way for readers to share their work, words, or things they enjoy with this community. Learn more or get your own classified, here.
Interesting & Useful
Some resources I’ve enjoyed recently:
A photo from Istanbul, Turkey, taken several years ago when I spent about a week in the area.
Project Updates
Let's Know Things: this week’s episode is about our global Internet Infrastructure, and how it’s faring under the strain of all this additional usage.
Brain Lenses: Tuesday’s BL was about Institutional License—something that subconsciously influences a lot of our decisions. And as I mentioned above, there’s now a podcast version of Brain Lenses, if you’re keen to check it out.
Ask Colin: Monday's column was about what it means to live a Good Life.
Outro
We’ll see how well this issue does, spam filter-wise. Either way, I like that there’s now an online version of the newsletter, as folks have been asking for that for ages and my previous email service didn’t have it as an option.
We’re in a pseudo-lockdown here in Missouri, though as in much of the US, the inconsistent messaging from leaders is causing a lot of confusion, and the effective measures that are in place are being diminished by the absence of other necessary measures.
That said: I’m well, my family is well, and I sincerely hope you and yours are doing okay, too.
To brutalize an oft-repeated quote: the days all feel like weeks, and the weeks somehow pass like days.
If you’re feeling down or alone or scared, that’s okay. This too shall pass, but it’s alright and normal to experience a full range of emotions in the meantime.
If you want to reach out for any reason, including just to say hi, I respond to every email I get.
How’re things progressing in your hometown? How has your daily routine changed, and what do you think will happen next? Send me an email and tell me what you can.
Say hello on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, or via new emoji.
You can support my work by becoming a patron, buying a book, or supporting my podcast. You can subscribe to Brain Lenses and/or Ask Colin, you can also buy me a coffee if that's more your cup of tea (ha!).
A friend recently sent me this useful list of questions to ask, back and forth, if you want to get to know someone better (and it applies whatever your current or intended relationship with that other person might be).