SF/F, sociology, some recipes. Updates every other Friday.

Month: January 2011 (Page 2 of 2)

Roscoe Learns to Think – Failure

So, two days ago, I failed. I screwed around on the Internet until about one in the afternoon, then went out with three things in mind: get a cup, get a new kettle, and sit down with Kahne and Smid for an hour or so. For various reasons, including Marissa coming home early from Hong Kong, I was unable to complete any of these tasks. And unable to do so even until I went to bed.

So, yesterday, I sat down just before lunch and did my multiple mentality exercises. When Marissa and I went shopping for scarves and gloves, I did window-shopping. I memorized the list of observation and concentration exercises (plus a few more that have been suggested to me in private). And I meditated.

I still feel like I let myself (and you all) down. But I don’t want to paper it over and cover it up, so I’m being completely truthful about it. I could try and pull a double today, or let it slide, or knock back the scheduling (switch over to Exercise II on Sunday instead of Saturday, etc.). How do you think I should handle it?

Let me know in the comments. Right now, I believe I have some homework to do…

Roscoe Learns to Think – ‘Well Begun is Half-Done’

Happy New Year everyone! I hope everyone’s off to a good start on their new year’s resolutions, especially if you are also Learning to Think.

I’ve got some good news, and some bad news. The bad news is that I can’t upload videos from here. Unless someone gives me some hosting space and an uploading system that can either work through proxies or fly under the radar, I can’t get my test videos up until my next trip to Hong Kong, somewhere in mid-January.

The good news is, I got properly started. On New Year’s Day, I meditated, and did the room scan a few times, but I put off sitting down with Kahne or with my mnemonics. So I ended up doing my Kahnes at the kitchen table at about 12:30 at night, and it was pulling teeth all the way.

For writing the alphabet backwards, I kept transposing KJ to JK, and confusing N and M. I also didn’t have the “fairly even speed” that Kahne asked for, often stuttering as I wrote, “T…S! R, Q” and “I H … G…” My attention kept drifting and I kept speeding up, which only made the areas where I would get temporarily stuck stick out more. However, I found that sounding it out helps both the rhythm and the attention, and slowing down helps a lot.

As to transposing (the ACBD sequence), I now know how the Final Five Cylons felt. Rhyming couplets would form in my head (ABCD, EGFD) which obviously didn’t help on X, H, or L. I think that’s why I kept forgetting what the fourth letter was. And I spent so much time on this, I didn’t have time to do the third section.

I found it easier, and you might, too, to work from memory if you cover up or fold back the line you just wrote. That way, you aren’t tempted to copy it out from what you can read, or to do so automatically when you zone out. It allows for more mistakes, but also works your brain harder, instead of being pointless busywork.
On the second day, I decided to let mistakes lie. In the first place, it helps my rhythm, and in the second, I’m copying this out fifty damn times. It’s not like I won’t get another chance at it. I also switched venues (to my favorite coffee shop) and did my meditating beforehand. Ten minutes of anapana put me in a mind to focus, and I found that my attention held for a lot longer on the task at hand and wasn’t so quick to jump away.

I also fiddled a bit with the ACBD sequence. At one point, while I was very bored, I accidentally wrote ZY XWVU … you know, I started it backwards. All of a sudden, I had to figure out the sequence in reverse while I was writing it. That got me interested! I set aside the last fifteen lines for playing around with it, both ZY XWVU and ZXYW. Reversing and resetting revived and kept my interest, even while I was writing it out forwards. I also felt ‘brain-crunch’ when I did it, my mind was actively working it out instead of passively copying.

Yesterday, I also sat down with Session A in Memory Master. At the top of the page is this quote:

“Training your memory is a little like fighting a boggart. You have to fight silly.”

I was able to remember the given list backwards and forwards a few minutes later, half an hour later, and this morning, all without referring to the document. I found it easier to work backwards in the first test, and I suggest you try it: When you’re done putting the list (or any other list) together, start at the end and walk backwards through your associations.

Also while I was at the café, I kept clocking the room. I didn’t keep count, but I think I got about half of the things I was looking for (gender, or what color their coats were) each time. Sometimes, borrowing a page from Lorayne, I looked at the same table again, and asked a different question (“so all their jackets are black. Fine. What are they drinking?”)

How about you? What have you noticed about your practice?

Roscoe Learns to Think – Allons-Y!

“Anyone can do what I have done, if they do what I have done.” – F. Matthew Alexander

So, there we go. I’ve explained the self-administered tests that I and the Home Game players will be inflicting on giving ourselves. I’ve outlined the history and philosophy behind the four aspects of the practice (simulflow, meditation, mnemonics, and petit perception). And, in bits and pieces, I’ve explained what I’d like to do.

Today, I’m bringing it all together.

On January 1, 2010, I will administer the first round of the tests I’ve put together. I’ll upload them (God willin’ and the firewall don’t rise) either Saturday or Sunday. I’d like to see a whole group of them, of all of us going all in together, starting the New Year proper. Leave them (or links to them) in the comments. Also on Sunday, I start my practice.

I’ve outlined the whole program, week-by-week, in this PDF. For the first week, I will do Exercise I of Harry Kahne’s Multiple Mentality program, sitting and playing with the alphabet for one hour each day. I will meditate for ten minutes, focusing on my breath, the pressure and level of it, the temperature, the feel of it. I will read and do the exercises in Memory Master, Session A. And I will close my eyes, count things in the room, do mental math, and even memorize four lines of poetry. When I pass shop windows, I’ll remember what was in there, and check that I was right.

This is not going to be easy, or quick. I happen to believe nothing of value really is. But it will be enormously educational. By the first of April, I will be able to better focus, more aware of the world around me, able to do one thing at a time or many things at once. If LeShan is anything to write home about, I will have “a greater efficiency and enthusiasm for daily life.” In many ways, I will be more accomplished, smarter, more involved, more alive. I will have Learned to Think.

Or, I will have learned how not to achieve these things. I will have found problems which are presently insurmountable, approaches that are ineffective, fast-forwards that end up rewinding me. But I will have documentation of it, and if I want to try again, in a year, in ten years, if someone else wants to reach for a better humanity than the one they now know, my records are here to show them where I strove, and how I fell, and, perhaps, how they could avoid doing the same.

More importantly than either, I will have tried. The results are less important than trying itself, than the attempt itself. I’ve made some messy stabs at doing one aspect or another of this practice, but I’ve never organized it and sat down and resolved to do it. I can’t wait to start, and see where it goes. But the game is worth a candle. For the possible outcome of achieving the mental powers I’ve wanted for years, of not only learning to think, but to be more aware and alive, Paris is damn well worth that mass.

As Teddy Roosevelt said,

“the credit belongs to the man who actually is in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs; who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at best in the end knows the triumph of high achievement, and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

But I am not only some faceless, timeless Human, but a man, born in a particular time and place, and to a particular generation. It’s hard going it alone, doubly so for my generation, known as Y but which will be known to history as The Social Generation. On the one hand, it’s a relief to know that there are others out there, sweating as I do, groaning to face Kahne or Weed or Lorayne again, eyeing the clock subtly, cursing that that desk totally wasn’t there a second ago. I suspect the comments section will become a bitching and moaning and mutual support group that way. A carrot, you might say. On the other hand, knowing I have you all to face, ILF and Jaci and Lachlan and wraith and Mira and Billy and everyone else, and that I have to ante up to look you in the eye, puts my pride to good use (for once). You could call that a stick.

So, ante up. Right here, right now. By April, we could have mental powers to shock and amaze ourselves and the world, to enjoy and join our lives. We could be Holmeses, Mentats, Bene Gesserit, better tomorrow than we are today. Sign up in the comments section, and see your name listed on the wall to the left. Put up your videos on January 1st or 2nd. Join a great experiment, to show off what it means to be human, what we could all be capable of.

I leave you with a question:

Are you a bad enough dude to Learn to Think?

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