Everlasting Present
February 22, 2023
Current location: Milwaukee, WI, USA
Reading: All These Worlds by Dennis E. Taylor
Listening: Desire, I Want To Turn Into You by Caroline Polacheck(if you have a moment, reply with your own 3-item status via email or in the comments)
Everlasting Present
When our lifestyle variables remain the same—or roughly the same—for long enough, it's a simple matter (bordering on the inevitable—for some of us at least) to fall into what I like to call the "everlasting present."
This is a moment in which we have a good sense of what to expect each day, our norms have worn grooves into our reflexes, and we've established habits, routines, and rituals that make good use of the shape our lives have taken.
It makes sense that we would do this.
One heuristic I use when thinking about such things is that our brains are keen to stockpile and save energy whenever possible. So if we can take stock of what's happening and what’s likely to happen, and then build structures that make those happenings more streamlined, more efficient—we're fulfilling that deep-set eagerness.
The downside of this tendency is that when we reshape ourselves to fit a particular set of circumstances, it becomes trickier to imagine a world, a life, a reality shaped any other way.
This is how many useable hours a day has, this is what a relationship looks like, this is what work is, these are the struggles associated with sleep or health or whatever else; these are the rewards I can expect for my labors.
I think of this as an everlasting present because even if we maintain a sense that things could change, will change, must change someday (not because things are bad now, necessarily, but because change is inevitable or because we have dreams we're working toward) our daily actions don't reflect that, and our lifestyle scaffoldings—all those habits and routines we use to make this version of life more effective, efficient, and (hopefully) enjoyable—don't reflect that either.
We may effectively box ourselves in, unintentionally limiting our options because the momentum that would otherwise nudge us toward something fresh is instead expended circularly: used to power the existing contraption, not to build a new one.
This isn't giving up, it isn't horrible, it's not a lapse in character or an indication that we're not capable of achieving our over-the-horizon goals.
It's just a tendency that’s likely sparked by biology and stoked by our capacity for refining our processes, sharpening our tools, and settling in to essentially any situation and making it our own (partially by amplifying our perception of the associated rewards and numbing ourselves to the concomitant downsides).
One way to enjoy the benefits of this tendency while still maintaining a sense of the bigger-picture is to regularly put our day-to-day into broader context.
It's important to have goals and milestone and deadlines and other such chronological reminders in mind (and on the calendar, if possible), but it's also helpful to be thinking in terms of long-term skill-acquisition, economic well-being, relationship cultivation, and general personal maintenance, all of which—if left untended or thoughtlessly attempted—can slump along (somewhat convincingly) for a time, but probably not to the degree necessary to earn dividends on these long-term investments.
One trick that usually works for me, when I find myself well-meaningly mired in the everlasting present, is to periodically stop whatever I'm doing and focus on the big, big picture for a while.
All the things I'm doing, day-to-day, are meaningful on some level.
But all those actions and intentions are happening within the context of a community of people who care about other things, a civilization that's working through anxieties and conflicts and concepts and (historical and cultural) baggage on a global scale, a species that exists on a single rock in the middle of a vast expanse of nothing (and everything), and inside a blip in the physical universe, which we can't yet get our intellectual arms around, and which itself may exist within an endless (or practically so) expanse of universes—or whatever else it is that makes up reality (and/or exists outside reality as we currently understand and perceive it).
This stuff that matters so much to me, on a temporal, daily, moment level, doesn't matter at all in that context.
Even the most important thing I can imagine for myself and my life doesn't register when thinking on that scale, nor will it ever.
And that's okay. It can matter to me and those around me, and that's still something.
But plotting out that larger map only to realize I can't even find myself on it—the pixel, the dot of ink would be too small to perceive—does wonders for jolting myself out of too-rigid thinking, planning, and accepting.
I feel my eyes widen, my perceptual range increase, my world open back up again.
If you found value in this essay, consider buying me a coffee :)
My Work, Elsewhere
Aspiring Generalist / Brain Lenses (podcast) / Climate Happenings / Let’s Know Things (podcast) / Never Not Curious / Notes On the News / One Sentence News (podcast) / You Probably Don’t Need
Might I suggest reading:
Interesting & Useful
“A style of writing in which alternate lines of writing are reversed, with letters also written in reverse, mirror-style. This is in contrast to modern European languages, where lines always begin on the same side, usually the left.”
The Dark Web Price Index 2022 (Chart)
“Did you know that the internet you’re familiar with is only 10% of the total data that makes up the World Wide Web? The rest of the web is hidden from plain sight, and requires special access to view. It’s known as the Deep Web, and nestled far down in the depths of it is a dark, sometimes dangerous place, known as the darknet, or Dark Web.”
Artistic Duo Uses Drones to Visualize the Past and Future of Architecture
“DRIFT has been using drone technology to create these light projections since 2020. Not only can these aerial sculptures reveal the beauty of historical monuments, but they could also be applied to see how future architectural projects could change the fabric of a city.”
Outro
It’s looking like another wild and wintery week here in Milwaukee.
I’ve been driving my girlfriend to and from her teaching job (located in a town about 1.5 hours away) twice a week for a little while now. We weren’t able to make the drive last Thursday due to dangerous road conditions, and there’s a good chance tomorrow will be the same, based on all the frantic weather predictions I’m seeing.
My understanding is that folks across the US will experience some weirdness (record cold, but also record heat in some locations) as a consequence of this storm system.
Be safe out there! But also: how’s the weather been in your neck of the woods (wherever you’re at in the world)? Semi-normal? Or is this year a deviation from familiar ebbs and flows?
Reply to this email and tell me about it, or leave a comment if you’d like to share with everyone—I respond to every message I get and would love to hear from you :)
If you’re keen to send something physical my way (it’s been a lot of fun receiving your letters and postcards!), here’s my address:
Colin Wright
PO Box 11442
Milwaukee, WI 53211
You can also communicate via the usual methods: Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, or photos of “lost places.”
Current location: Same as it ever was
Reading: The Face of Deception by Iris Johansen
Listening: Born in Space by Owane
Current location: London Heathrow en route to Aotearoa
Reading: Colin Wright's Newsletter
Listening: Irate people in a boarding queue