SF/F, sociology, some recipes. Updates most Fridays.

Tag: roscoe learns to think (Page 1 of 2)

The Doc Savage Method of Personal Development

This is the Back Matter section of the previous “Doc Savage at 90” review, for April, 1933’s The Land of Terror. Although he wouldn’t introduce it until Quest of Qui in July, 1935, I’d like to talk about the Doc Savage Method.

The Doc Savage Method is Dent, with suicidal overconfidence, trying to define Doc’s mysterious two-hour daily exercise regimen, the source of his physical and sensory powers. But it was one of Dent’s fixations, and with either masterful cynicism or genuine idealism, he wrote up a series of “modified” exercises that readers could practice at home to hone their own bodies, intellects, and senses.

What sets the Doc Savage Method apart from modern (or even contemporary) workout regimens is the focus on the last two elements of those. Integral to the exercises aren’t just the dynamic tension of your biceps and triceps, but reciting the times tables and Kipling’s “Gunga Din” as you do so and cataloguing all the green items in the room with your eyes closed while you do it. Far beyond Kim’s Game and layered listening, Dent goes into comparative taste-testing and a variety of progressive subtle discernments. Far beyond Roman rooms and funny pictures, Dent demands raw memory power.

Arnold’s Education of a Bodybuilder this is not.

Let’s take a few examples:

Exercise II:

This exercise Doc Savage usually takes immediately on rising in the morning. Standing before an open window in shorts, feet wide apart and body relaxed, he breathes deeply and slowly eight or ten times.

Then, still relaxed, he reaches down to the right foot and, bending from the hips only grasps an imaginary hundred-pound weight. Slowly and without jerking, muscles tensed, the imaginary weight is lifted above his head. It is held there while Doc inhales and exhales deeply, having held his breath while lifting.

The weight is heavy, and requires tremendous exertion of every muscle of the body. Doc’s legs are tense and quivering, and his back muscles stand out as they aid the arms and stomach tendons. This is accomplished by opposing the pull of the muscles with mental resistance.

After reaching the top of the lift, Doc sets the imaginary weight down beside his left foot, straightens up and relaxes.

At the same time while taking the above exercises, Doc also trains his powers of observation by looking out the window and mentally cataloguing everything that comes within his range of vision. He then turns his back and repeats the physical exercise, lifting the imaginary weight up from the left foot and lowering it to the right, reviewing in his mind all the while that which the eye had photographed through the window.

This exercise is usually repeated five times by Doc, and at its conclusion he lists on paper all the objects he can remember seeing outside the window.

Only at the end of seven days does Doc check one list against the other…and sees much improvement after that period; for the mind is grasping more details each day.

When possible, Doc completes these exercises in a room with four windows, using a different one each week for the test, and for the fifth week goes back to the first window. Again list-checking shows him much improvement over the first week.

(Of course he’s in his shorts, one of Dent’s other fixations was unconscious homoeroticism)

The physical aspect of Exercise II is what we now call “mental imaging,” which enjoys an occasional revival in fitness science (and “science”) every few decades or so (in the 1960s/70s among the human potential movement, in goal-setting in the 2000s). I sometimes pretend at such things myself, though usually for writing purposes. The sensory aspect here is old as the hills – Robert-Houdin would take his son in front of shop windows to do exactly this in the 1880s and 90s. Combining them is the real innovation here – and it’s why I listen to audiobooks and podcasts when I work out, or count cars out the window when I’m standing in the company gym doing my karate kata.

Let’s try another.

Exercise VI

One of the first taste exercises ever used by Doc Savage was the attempted identification of individual solutions of coffee, tea, salt water, sugar water, diluted vinegar, and mustard water. He prepared six one-ounce bottles and, after sterilizing them, filled them three-quarters full with drinking water.

Into each bottle he poured a teaspoonful of each of the beforementioned Iiquids. Each bottle was labeled, naming the contents within. Then he closed his eyes and sipped from each bottle in turn, noting on paper what he thought the flavor to be.

After reaching the stage where he could differentiate correctly, he added water to the bottles until the flavor was barely perceptible…and then tried identifying them.

During this exercise, Doc recited aloud John McRae’s poem “In Flanders Fields.”

This is a fine example of one of Dent’s many ‘discernment’ exercises. I’m given to understand the like was fairly common among the nascent self-help culture in the 1930s, but the Doc Savage Method is the only place I’ve encountered them directly. This is also a great example of Dent (either with a fig leaf or without even bothering) adapting Doc’s no-doubt highly scientific exercises to items the average 11-year-old boy would find around the house in 1935. This is also how I memorized “In Flanders Fields,” practicing a variant on this back in China in the Learning to Think days.

Exercise CVII

Through his many adventures in the far places of the world, Doc Savage has come to a complete knowledge of all countries, their climates, whether mountainous or plain, whether hot or cold, the accessibility and the means of getting there.

A study of his youth helped to gain this information, for Doc played at times a game with himself. It might have been called “expedition going.”

Doc would sit in front of a globe of the world and spin it. While the globe was turning, Doc would close his eyes and then reach forward and stop the whirling with his finger. Where the finger rested, there would be the country which Doc would visit mentally.

For example, if the country were Tibet, Doc would trace the means of getting there and the transportation to be used. This would mean a perusal of steamship schedules across the Atlantic, railroad maps, and times of train departures in India…if entrance to Tibet were to be made that way. Passing through the Khyber Pass in northern India would give Doc historical background of that bloody gash through the hills.

Study of the climate was necessary, for Doc would have to prepare mentally the clothing he would take on the trip. The topography of Tibet would come in for study, for upon that would hinge the method of transportation…whether pack mule, on foot, or by modern motor car equipped to cover the rugged country.

Study of the nature of the people would tell if guns to any number would be needed for protection. If permission from the local authorities would be necessary before entrance to the country, Doc would be called upon to study the political situation and gain knowledge of what personages to approach.

Since he was going to Tibet, Doc had to look up in archeological books that which he might search for that would be of value to mankind in explaining past civilizations.

While on these mental expeditions, Doc would name the States or provinces of the country to which he was going, the capital of each, and its present ruler.

This is my favorite one. I have a globe on my desk right now. And looking up geographic and travel information is mind-bogglingly easier now when compared to the 1930s.

It beats “memorize the names and capitols of the countries of the world in alphabetical order” absolutely hollow.

In the course of researching for your mental expedition, each nation takes on a flavor and a color, and you discover a few salient facts to hang your hat on (putting my thumb on India many years back is how I discovered Vikram and the Vampire and the existence of the Blue City of Jodhpur and the noble knightly class of Rajputs). It becomes a place in your head.

My daughter will be practicing this for her geography lessons, when I homeschool her. Fantastic writing practice, too.

My finger landed in the Philippines. A splendid place to expedition in my mind.

This is a longer entry on the back matter than usual, but that’s because this is what first drew me to Doc Savage – this eerie, alien way to Learn to Think (and tone my body at the same time). A lot of it is nonsense. But there are some real jewels in the Doc Savage Method. For reference, I’ve included the complete Method in a document, here, as originally listed on The Eighty-Sixth Floor.


Doc Savage at 90

Introduction – The Man of Bronze

Fear Cay

The Lost Oasis

The Munitions Master

The Land of Terror

Bonus post: The Doc Savage Method of Personal Development

The Czar of Fear

Doc Savage …at 90

Laying Down my Burdens

Some of you, who read my Facebook updates, know that I broke up with Marissa a few weeks ago. I’ve also been doing school and looking for work. I’ve found some work, and I’m now hustling to get a proper visa together.

This is all by way of explanation: I haven’t been Learning to Think.
I have to conclude that, between romantic misadventures, accounting exams, and job- and paperwork-hustling, my life is too chaotic for something like LTT. I haven’t even been able to update my blog recently.

I know at least one of you is still going strong, and I’m proud of that. Don’t let me stop you. Hell, I’ll probably come asking you for advice when my life is settled down enough to try again. And I am going to try again. But, right now, I have to get bills paid.

I am going to try and update this blog more frequently, starting with an update on Chinese New Year’s celebrations. See you soon.

Six Tips for Better Mnemonics

Having now spent a few weeks working on my mnemonics, and gotten four lessons into the 21-lesson Memory Master course, I’ve discovered a few things.

1) Be Stanley Ipkiss. Watch old cartoons.
It’s not as easy to come up with wacky links as it looks. Especially if this is your fiftieth of the day, and you’re a bit tired and hungry, and you know you’ve got another forty minutes of work ahead of you before you can even think about starting dinner. Putting it in the context of a Looney Tunes or Animaniacs cartoon (or Terry Gilliam animation) helps. Invoking that kind of spirit in your associations (whatever they are) helps. Trying to use violence or disgusting subjects actually makes it harder for me to remember, my brain seems to shy away from remembering those images. Sex helps, but not as much as you’d think. Comedy, comedy, comedy’s the thing.

2) Write it down.
It’s a quantum leap easier to remember information as I write it down. Yes, with a pen. Yes, on paper. Yes, I know they belong in a museum. It slows me down, seems more real…Initial Awareness, remember? We’re trying to raise it. Writing the list down in a notebook raises it, even if I throw the paper away right afterward (or hand it to Marissa so she can check me). It works much better for me than reading the list (from paper or screen) or hearing them aloud. I am working on making my intake of the latter stronger, so that I can apply mnemonics to things which are not easily written down (people’s names, for example).

3) Walk through the list in reverse.
Even if you don’t (or can’t) write it down, walk through the list backwards after you’ve finished forming all your links. This reinforces all the images, and familiarizes you with what it “feels like” in reverse. And, I don’t know about you, but I find it a lot easier to start at the end and work backwards. I used to solve mazes the same way as a kid.

4) Read this list.
My mother sent this to me (thanks, Mum!). Number eleven is basically mnemonics systems in a nutshell, and number fourteen talks about associations. Although it’s geared towards studying for school, most of them are applicable to other situations as well. Seriously, go read it. Memorize it, if you like.

5) Apply spaced repetition.
Use spaced repetition to really cement associations in your mind. Spaced repetition is remembering the material at longer and longer intervals (after one minute, one hour, one day…). Sounds simple, but according to studies like this one from UC San Diego, it’s a remarkably effective way to keep things in mind longer. I can offer my own testimony, in that I memorized the list of observation exercises through spaced repetition over the course of forty-eight hours, first an hour later, then twelve hours later (over my Five Will Get You Twelve, no less), then the next day…

6) Remember your limits.
By that, I mean, keep a few things in mind. Remember that, by and large, you have been memorizing lists of discrete information. They are data, and not knowledge. Knowledge comes from putting things in context, how your data (or facts) are important or relevant. You need savoir faire, not just savoir. You need to know how to use it, not just what it is. Mnemonics will help you keep facts around, but making those facts relevant and putting them in a logical framework to use later is your job.

Roscoe Learns to Think – The Second Week in Review

I started school this week. I’ve also been running to job interviews, English Corners, and so on. As a result, I haven’t been all that great at budgeting my time, and I’ve found myself squeezing out one aspect or another of Learning to Think all week.

Meditation

I meditated for the first few days in the room, wrapped in a blanket, with my hands covered with the heat pillow. Those were wonderful. For a few minutes each day, I felt the “beautiful stillness.” Then I started running around, and when I wasn’t running around, goofing off. So I took my stolen subway minutes and meditated there, or in the teacher’s lounge, or in the café after lunch, times when I had about twenty minutes and the wherewithal to do something productive with it.

That didn’t really work. I haven’t been able to really keep quiet or sit still in those places, mostly because they are so public and many of them involve necessary distractions (such as the stops being read off on the subway). I need to get back to sitting twenty minutes in my room alone, quietly, each day. Well, thirty, now.

Simulflow

Like last week, I missed a day of sitting with Kahne for an hour. However, I did manage to do some of the drills that day, so it wasn’t a total wash. As I mentioned, I wrote up several lists, and had them all memorized, and had great fun interlacing them and transposing them like we did with the alphabet last week.

But the real gains came in the drills. This wasn’t a terrible surprise to me, it was in the drills that I most felt “stiffness” and the brain-stretching sensation back in Yangshuo. On my last night, as it was clear I had achieved the level of mastery that Kahne demanded (despite my spotty attendance record), I did the drills to round out my hour. I felt stiffness and resistance throughout Drill B, that emerged into full-blown simulflow during Drill C. I again felt the sensation, pure and unmistakable, of my train of thought splitting onto two parallel tracks as I manipulated both sets of words.

I’ve discovered something with both simulflow and mnemonics: They must be taken on faith. I can’t set out or see the whole list or the whole of both words at the outset, I have to trust that I will find my way to the end. I can’t, yet, picture all the provinces I’ve memorized at once, but I can remember one or two and run from there. If I spell out t-i-k and write y-r-d, I can’t necessarily picture the “k” and the “d” when I’m writing “t” and “y,” but I have to trust that they’ll come to mind when I get there.

Have you felt this sensation? The sense that you’re running on parallel tracks, for however short a time?

Petit Perception

I’ve taken to skimping on this one. And I’m sliding back, in terms of being able to see and notice the things around me. Bad form. I still get it one or two a day, clocking a few things or scanning the room, but it’s not enough. Petit perception is difficult, because it’s not something that I sit down and do, like mnemonics practice or Kahne’s course. It’s something that I need to carry with me, running in the back of my mind, all day. And I haven’t progressed enough in Kahne to pull that off yet.

I don’t feel quite ready, or confident, about adding the concentration exercises to my routine yet. But I’m going to press on, if only because I need to memorize some poetry for Kahne’s Double Concentration drill.

However, I want to make note of something. Last night, just after I turned out the lights, I noticed how remarkably quiet it was. The traffic was muted, there were no cries or shouts from the street, the city seemed hushed. I practiced layered listening, listening to the hum of the modem, the trickle of water through the pipes, the muted roar of the city, the honking of the streets below…until I realized, with amazement, that I could go no quieter. I heard the ringing in my ears.

It was a strange moment. I’m glad I was there for it.

Mnemonics

This side of my practice has probably suffered worst this week. No sooner did Marissa and I agree to memorize the provinces of China than we set the list aside and promptly forgot about it. I made a go at remembering the first eight or so (Guangzhou, Guangdong; Fuzhou, Fujian; Hangzhou, Zhejiang; Shanghai, Shanghai; Nanjing, Jiangshu; Jinan, Shandong; Shijiazhuang, Hebei; Beijing, Beijing; Tianjin, Tianjin; Shenyang, Liaoning; Dalian, Jiling; Harbin, Helongjiang; Hohhot, Inner Mongolia) but then kind of dropped off.

I’m not very good, yet, at coming up with substitute words, and I’m not going to get any better without more practice. Therefore, I’m repeating Session C this week, in addition to doing Session D.

However, I got plenty of practice remembering long lists of things that don’t require substitute words (or at least, not very much) in the form of this week’s Kahne exercises, and I can look forward to more, in the form of next week’s.

This Week

This week, Session C (repeat) and Session D in mnemonics. That’s substitute words and people’s names and faces, for those of you playing the Home Game. We’re extending anapana to thirty minutes, and picking up some of the concentration exercises if you’re ready. Exercise III in Kahne, and keep up with the drills when you’ve got a spare moment.

We add Double Concentration this week. However, in this case, Kahne suffers from his age. I can barely remember my own address, much less anyone else’s, for the simple reason of I never need them. And email addresses are too short to cut it for this exercise. Any suggestions on what could replace the four-line physical address, something we’ve all got a small collection of in our heads to work from, that we could write down while reading out bits of poetry?

Another Time, Another Place (Megan’s Game)

Farmer's Market, San Luis Obispo

This is another petit perception activity, to practice your talents at acute observation. It’s also a great way to pass the time for free if you’re out in town. It was taught to me by Megan Jeffrey, who now lurks over at the Den of the Press Platypus, occasionally emerging on Twitter as well. It goes like this:

While you’re out and about, take a quick look at some of the people around you. Pick one, and try to determine what other place and time that person would best fit in, and what they were doing there. For instance:

(a tough guy who looks like he’d slit your throat as soon as look at you) “Port Royal, 1693. Before the earthquake. Buccaneer, probably full pirate by now.”

(a glamorous woman) “Hollywood, 1935. Starlet, just about to break in.”

(a hipster) “Chicago suburbs, 1986. Works in a record store, will always work in a record store.”

Take as short of a glance as you need to get a snapshot of the person, something to work with, and make snap judgments. This makes an excellent opening to the Faces exercise I described in Petit Perception. But it’s also great fun by itself. How often do you let yourself jump to conclusions?

Also, as you can guess, this is awesome if you have a second (or third or fourth!) person to play with. Megan and I played it in front of Boo-Boo Records and Phoenix Books in San Luis Obispo, one Farmer’s Market long ago when we had to wait around but had no money to wait around with. I seem to remember we had someone else with us, probably one of Megan’s friends. We had a grand old time pointing people out with our chins and debating each other’s placements.

So, if any of your friends wave and ask why you’re writing little words (or the alphabet) backwards, or wonder why you closed your eyes when you walked in, invite them to come play Megan’s game with you.

Roscoe Learns to Think – Momento Contemplari

So! This week, I start(ed) Exercise II in Multiple Mentality, upped my daily dose of anapana to twenty minutes, started Session C, and continued to practice my observation exercises.

Exercise II, as most of you are now painfully aware, is the assembly of a list of three-letter words, and then the writing of them, from memory, backwards. I’ve found some ‘stiffness’ or ‘resistance,’ unrelated to interest or lack thereof (which plagued me all last week). It is difficult not to write ‘c’ or ‘p,’ for example, backwards. I’ve taken to writing one set in order (taking full advantage of my mnemonics training) and then writing a second (and third) set disordered. It’s hard not to start “going down the list” (writing “miv” [vim] and not following it with the next words: ale, sty, why, how…) when I’m trying to write it out disorderly, and I found myself alternating lists more than once.

So, tonight, I did an experiment. I interwove the list of words I’d selected, exactly as we did with the alphabet last week. I felt a lot of stiffness, trying to write the word forwards, or write it in mirror-script, and getting stuck on items I hadn’t quite linked well enough. I kept jumping ahead to the next item (jumping, by analogy of the alphabet, from B to C, instead of stopping at Y in the middle). But I felt myself start to loosen up toward the end, and felt a kind of brain split.

I’ll try transposing elements from tomorrow’s list.

Also, Exercise II makes the practice in mnemonics dead easy. Every day, I have to come up with and remember a list of at least thirty items (I’ve been doing fifty and will probably up it). Funny, I learned how to do that last week…I’m still having times where I stumble, of course. But practice, constant practice. Ostinate rigore!

I do believe, ladies and gentlemen, we are doing better than Kahne. He expected us to do only one list, whereas you and I, if we have been doing our homework like good boys and girls, can make seven, or fourteen, or as many as we please, and commit them to memory in shorter time. We can make a new list every day. Or, as I did yesterday, we could remember the entire fifty-item list from the day before…and then create an entirely new one.

I hasten to remind everyone, we could not have done this at the beginning of last week. If you wanted proof, there it is, we are better today than we were yesterday, at least when it comes to remembering sequential lists.

Marissa has climbed on board, at least as far as memory is concerned. She’s at her parents’, now, helping her sister move, and she took my copy of Memory Master with her. We’ve committed to memorizing the provinces of China, by region, by the end of the week. For me, this is a test of my ability to substitute words. For her, a test of associative memory.

And she’s testing me. She had me memorize the account number of our landlord for when I have to deposit the rent myself, then she teased me with her phone number. Tonight, she called me, and asked me what her phone number was. At a slow, measured pace, I recited it to her.

She was much pleased. Tom Smid was right, a better memory can improve your sex life social life.

As to meditation, my suspicion at the end of last week was right. Twenty minutes gives my brain time to settle down, get used to the idea of stillness, and lets me climb deeper into the breath. My notes on meditation have become rather …poetic. For example:

“Touched breath, once deeply: beautiful stillness. Hard to focus, Marissa next room (music, dryer, laughter). Looking forward to tomorrow. Roomscanned before opening eyes, felt languid, rich, all the time in the world.” (Thalass, is this similar to the slowing you felt?)

“Everything seems richer, fresher now. Beautiful stillness.”

“The breath is always there. It is patient, like Lila, like Laurie. Like a lover. Always there for me, always waiting. I need only turn to it, and let all else fall away.”

Harry Lorayne’s “final test of meditation” holds: I feel better after my daily sit. This is very different from last week, where I didn’t feel very different at all. I must revise Learning to Think to start with twenty minutes of anapana, unless some of you have a different story to tell?

They don't know where they're going either.

I’ve still been in a bit of a rut, when it comes to petit perception. Room surveys, window shopping, room surveys, window shopping…when Marissa comes back, I’m going to ask her to sit down and play Kim’s Game with me. Maybe even buy some beers or oranges and taste test, or describe the three or four kinds of incense we have. I could be doing more layered listening, I suppose, it’s quick enough. But Shenzhen is so painful to the ear…if you’ve got any suggestions, please do lay ‘em on me.

So how have you been? Thalass, I remember you were doing the futharc, and wraith, your meditating in the steam room, er, inspired me to try meditating while getting a foot massage. And I know there are more of you out there, plodding along with us. Tell us what it’s like for you.

Roscoe Learns to Think – The First Week In Review

Simulflow:

I wrote in the notes section of one of my pages, ”HAET HARRY KAHNE!” I think many of you can agree with me on that one. But I remember this from the first time around, and the second week is not nearly so … tedious.

The biggest problem that I faced this week, insofar as multiple mentality is concerned, was attention span. As Loweko commented, “I have found Kahne’s exercises magnificent meditation in their own right.” Which is true … it’s almost easier to focus on the breath. I found a couple of ways around the issue of paying attention.

First, I played with the lines. I did variations, like transposing the alphabet in a different order or interlacing “wrong” (ZA instead of AZ). For the past four days, I’ve done the transposed alphabet four ways in one sitting. This usually gets my interest back and makes me pay much closer attention, to make sure I don’t confuse them.

In interlacing the alphabet, I felt “brain split,” like I did back in Yangshuo…but it seemed to happen at random. Tonight, I worked out what it was. As long as I was paying attention to something else, besides what I was writing, I could split my attention. That sounds obvious, but you try getting distracted intentionally. 🙂

The easiest way I could figure was to focus on the last letter in sequence, so I would stare intently at “B” while I was writing “C,” then move on to “Y” while I was writing “X.”

I also found less…sophisticated ways to get it done. Yesterday, when I was gritting my teeth through yet another round of transposed alphabet (ACBD… or alternately ZXYW…), I played “okay, just one more,” with myself from lines 30 to 50. Just get to 30, ok. OK, now 33, that’s the end of the page. OK, just two more and you’re at 35, nice round number. Do one more, just to be a bit over the top, give yourself an edge when you pick up tomorrow. Yes, I know it’s already been an hour. Well, you’re next to 40 now…

I realized earlier, as I was finishing my interlaced alphabet (AZBYCX…) that Kahne probably meant that his students should do Part 1 each day until you got it, then move on to Part 2, then Part 3…instead of, say, trying to write 150 lines in an hour, like some of us who are insane.

*koff*

I didn’t realize this the first time through, and if anyone else tried to do all three at one sitting: I’m so sorry. But look at it this way, we got through more than Harry ever expected, and faster!

Meditation:

My apartment has no heat and it’s hovering around 40 right now. I’ve meditated in here twice, maybe three times. Mostly, I’ve been meditating out in the world, on the subway or in Pacific Coffee. I’m finding that my brain actually settles the fuck down at right around the eight minute mark, and I actually feel calmer and can focus on my breath then. I look forward to next week, and sits of twenty minutes.

I’ve also found that setting an alarm actually makes me more antsy and nervous than checking the clock two or three times during the sit. So, yeah, I’ll just do that, instead of trying to use alarms.

My libido has been having a fun time distracting me. Which makes sense: Nothing distracts me quicker or more profoundly. Or, I try to fight it, and end up getting distracted. I’m going to work on letting that stuff go in the coming weeks.

On the plus side, the fantasies that burble up when I’m trying to meditate are magnificent.

Mnemonics:

I have the basic concepts down from Sessions A and B, but my implementation still needs work. I seem to have a “natural” limit of about ten items at a time, or at least I have pretty significant trouble remembering longer lists. I tried the first list after a day, and could remember it just fine. Same with the Petit Perception lists. But the long list from Session B? After an hour, I’d forgotten “soap,” and after a day, I forgot four items, and misplaced a large chunk of the middle.

I think the problem’s to do with my implementation. I didn’t practice my mnemonics nearly as much as I practiced with Mr. Kahne, so I kind of skimped on that homework (boo hiss). And the images I came up with, while funny in a pedestrian way, didn’t really arrest me or tickle my funny bone. It says something that I immediately remembered chicken, melon, because of the image Smid supplied, as well as baked beans, shampoo, for the same reason. I think I might have to watch old Warner Brothers and Animaniacs cartoons to get a feel for the kind of images I need. Quelle horreur.

More lists. More lists. Need to invent more images, memorize more lists. One a day, with a review of yesterday’s and the one from the beginning of the week, would seem appropriate, and a review of all of them at the end of the week.

I wonder how long you can let something “sit” without refreshing it, and still remember, say, 90% of it?

Petit Perception:

At last, some good news! I’m noticing a quantum leap in my involvement in everyday life after one week of practice. Last night, I saw Marissa drop a piece of sausage in the stir-fried vegetables, and I got it with my chopsticks before she did. My ears perk up at the slightest sound of the kettle or the soup boiling over, and like a shot I’m at the stove and taking care of it. Marissa is already relying on me to know where her glasses are whenever they aren’t on her face.

And it’s not just her. We played a round of room survey in the bar the other night, one of my students, two friends, and I, and they were amazed that I could describe the three people behind me without looking, because I’d clocked them as I sat down. I’m amazing myself, really, because now I see things that I passed by so often before. Diwang glitters in the night, and I never knew. There’s a mahjongg gambling den just down the street that I never saw before. I haven’t been working it, and I can even smell more clearly.

However, I noticed myself falling into a rut when it came to the clocks somewhere about Thursday, always “what color was it?” So I started grilling myself on variations: cut of the jacket, then? Number? How about the person next to him, was it a man or a woman? What are they doing? Hairstyle?

And, having overlooked it six times now, last night, I finally sat down and room surveyed the café where I do work.

I’m still amazed.

At everything I miss.

Conclusion:

Coughed and stumbled on Wednesday, but got back up again. Need to work harder on mnemonics, longer on meditation, and vary my petit perception practice a bit more. Harry Kahne, if I remember right, will look after himself just fine.

How about you? Have you been keeping notes, keeping track? Let us see them! Let us know how you’ve been doing, what you’ve noticed about yourself and your practice. I started all this so that no one of us need feel alone.

Roscoe Learns To Think: Mid-Week

Well! Got back on the horse yesterday, and it was interesting. I tried meditating on the subway on my way to work (didn’t go so well), I started Session B of Memory Master, and I switched over to doing the interwoven alphabet instead of writing it in reverse (which I can do perfectly well by now).

Meditating on the subway didn’t work so well, mostly because I was still trying to count stops until I reached Gou Wu Gong Yuan. I was still much calmer and more collected when I arrived, though, than when I left, so that counts for something.

As to Memory Master, now I remember why I shoved Sessions A and B together. 😛 They’re essentially the same lesson, taught in slightly different ways. I screwed up one or two entries on the fifteen-item shopping list, so I’m going to try again this morning. I also went ahead and memorized the lists of observation and concentration exercises out of my Petit Perception guide, which are shorter.

The interwoven alphabet (the A-Z B-Y pattern) was interesting. It seems to take me about thirty minutes to get through fifty lines of anything, so, since I have now pretty well memorized the alphabet backwards, I decided to do parts 2 and 3 of Exercise I instead. I felt the weird sensation again, like my brain was splitting in two and moving parallel, that I felt back in Yangshuo. But only when I was working it out, or going back to working it out. I would write A, Z, then focus on A and write the next letter (B), then focus on Z and write the next letter (Y)…and then I felt the brain shift. Later, I got distracted by the arrival of my hot chocolate, and did a few by rote. It felt different.

Also, you may want to try inflicting the room survey or an improvised Kim’s Game on your friends the next time you’re all sitting down to dinner or something. I did it to a few friends and students in my favorite bar last night, and it was great fun for all.

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 – 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?

« Older posts