Vigilances
March 8, 2023
Current location: Milwaukee, WI, USA
Reading: Six Easy Pieces by Richard P. Feynman
Listening: Hot Money by Patricia Nelson(if you have a moment, reply with your own 3-item status via email or in the comments)
Vigilances
My car—a beige 2007 Prius I bought several years ago, and which I intend to keep driving until it's dead (over 150,000 miles and still ticking along)—doesn't cause me trouble most of the time.
The other day, though, the little check engine light came on—the steady, amber-colored one, not the red, flashing one, thankfully—so I took it in to have the error code pulled and was told that I could be looking at some decent-sized repairs, that if not made, would basically lead to the engine exploding...or it could be nothing.
It's a code that pops up sometimes when grit gets into the wrong place, essentially, and if it goes away on its own you're generally good, but if not, things could go sideways in the near-future.
The light was gone when I started my car the following day, but I've been anticipating its return ever since.
It's been several weeks, now, but I still catch my attention drifting to my dashboard, watching for that little icon: a symbol that, if it returns, would represent a significant headache and a substantial mechanic bill.
This heightened level of vigilance—what in some contexts might be called hyper-vigilance—serves no purpose whatsoever.
If that little check engine light returns, I'll see it, I'll take my car to the mechanic to be fixed, and I'll grit my teeth and pay the bill.
It would suck if that happens, but I've done what I can do at this point and any additional fixation on the icon’s return represents time I’ll never get back and divided attention, with no upside.
There's zero value in agonized, anxious anticipation.
This is similar in some ways to something I experienced near the beginning of the pandemic, when I started to suffer some (now mostly handled) health issues that manifested as unfamiliar pain, discomfort, heart behavior, and difficulty sleeping.
My attention toward this irregularities triggered and sustained a self-reinforcing cycle of anxiety and stress that—though catalyzed by legitimately strange health things—ultimately amplified the very issues I was struggling with.
My hyper-vigilant interception—paying constant, too-focused attention on my body’s sensations and rhythms—bore many of the same hallmarks of my reflexive, too-frequent glances at the car's dashboard, and did me just as a little good (in both cases arguably leading to worse outcomes, not better ones; sunk costs all around).
There are cases when purposeful self-awareness, in the shape of mindfulness or meditation, makes a lot of sense and can serve us rather than worsening a negative psychological spiral (or nonsensical, minor bad habit).
I would argue that it's generally a positive thing to have at least a basic understanding of our own bodies and minds and preferences and habits, to notice adjustments to our relevant defaults, and to take note when we respond to things in positive or sub-optimal ways—whether that means flagging and figuring out why we got annoyed at something someone did, or privately acknowledging when something makes us feel elated, inspired, motivated, or fulfilled.
These are useful data points, and can help us make better decisions or notice when something’s legitimately not right.
Too much focus, or a fixation on perfection or purity, however, can distort healthful habits into something else entirely, though, and it's possible to track the wrong things, the right things in the wrong way, or to set standards or goals that don't line up with reality or our actual (rather than idealized or culturally inherited) goals.
I've historically been able to elbow myself away from the negative permutations of this type of vigilance (eventually, at least) by doing a bit of research, figuring out some sensical narratives of what seems to be happening, and then catching myself any time I drift into the non-ideal, habituated activity, including a gentle reminder that I've done what I can, I know what I'll do if X happens, and there's nothing more I can do at the moment; every second I spend anticipating further negative outcomes is time I'll never get back.
It's still a conscious process every time, but thankfully it's a process I recognize, now, and from which I know I can eventually (with a little effort) extract myself.
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
Believable, logical, not-real words made up by software.
How the Graphical User Interface Was Invented
“Mice, windows, icons, and menus: these are the ingredients of computer interfaces designed to be easy to grasp, simplicity itself to use, and straightforward to describe. The mouse is a pointer. Windows divide up the screen. Icons symbolize application programs and data. Menus list choices of action.”
Salt Extraction Sites Turn Landscapes into Vivid Tapestries
“Since 2018, German photographer Tom Hegen has been soaring above regions from western Australia and Senegal to France and Spain as he documents the vivid landscapes of salt production. His mesmerizing aerial images peer down at evaporation ponds that carve the earth into a patchwork of vibrant hues.”
Outro
Last week’s podcast host move seems to have gone well for One Sentence News, and this weekend will be the biggy: moving Let’s Know Things to and from the same hosts.
This is something I’ve been thinking about for a while, but the ongoing shifts in the podcasting space have nudged me to upgrade my tools, even though it’s going to substantially increase my costs of operation in the process.
Hopefully this bet pays off—if nothing else, it’ll give me some more options and control over some aspects of how I produce, publish, and distribute. Though it’s always a bit stressful during the transitionary period, when technical problems are more common, and all sorts of uncertainties abound.
How’s your March going so far? Any big plans as we shift toward a new season?
Drop me an email and tell me what’s up, or leave a comment if you’d like to share with everyone—I respond to every message I receive and would love to hear from you :)
You can also send me a letter, postcard, or some other physical communication if you’d prefer:
Colin Wright
PO Box 11442
Milwaukee, WI 53211
Of course, you can also communicate via the usual methods: Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, or livestream of the Namib Desert in Namibia.