no. 25: how to see the world, as it is 🔭
avoiding Instagram, rediscovering old magazines, and motion parallax
Hi friends,
We will refrain from talking about the weather. This past week was an indulgent one: there was copious amounts of cheesecake-eating, pavlova-decorating, and latte-drinking. Are sweatpants / yoga pants legitimate forms of pants? Asking for a friend.
In this volume, we discuss putting distractions away – be it doubt, or Instagram – and bringing elation back.
J:
life in parallax
I miss taking the bus to school. Pre-COVID, I found the act of taking public transport to be much like a form of meditation. I used to press my head up against the glass and spend the mornings watching the city slowly wake up. When I was especially young, I made up silly games to pass the time. I'd get bored as we drove along the long stretches of highway, so I'd try and count things: cars, lamp-posts, signs. Inevitably, I'd get dizzy watching everything whip by and have to look out into the distance, where scenes would move much more slowly.
In my Perception class, we learned that this effect has a name: motion parallax. The way objects close to us pass by quicker, whilst objects in the distance appear more stable.
This notion of moving in parallax describes the way a lot of things have been unfolding for me this past week: time, feelings. With the latter in particular, a friend and I spent a good chunk of a recent FT call dissecting the way we might describe our current emotional state. At the microscopic level - the task is impossible. I struggle to ascribe a single name to the combination of things I’m feeling in this very moment. But when we pivot to talking about life in general, objectivity returns. I find it funny, the way this perspective-change brings back a sense of calmness; how frenzied catch-ups always seem to amount to the fact that life is still pretty sweet.
So, unexpected life lessons from a class on human vision: take a step back. Both literally and figuratively, there is a stability that comes with viewing things at a distance. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m easily distracted by the noise of everyday stressors: never-ending email notifications, impending midterms. But big picture? We’re still doing okay.
N:
Self Compassion and Ambition
I’ve been thinking a lot about how these two ideas are not opposites, but complements. In The Call to Courage by Brene Brown, Brene talks about how most of our lives are filled with a fear of putting ourselves out there: a fear driven by a mindset built on shame and scarcity. Maybe our words are not eloquent enough, our ideas not fully formed, our voices wobble when we approach the mic.
Ira Glass talks in an interview about the ‘Taste Gap’ that prevents people from publishing and sharing things. He says:
“All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there’s a gap, the first couple years that you’re making stuff, what you’re making isn’t so good. It’s not that great. But your taste — the thing that got you into the game — your taste is still killer, and your taste is good enough that you can tell that what you’re making is kind of a disappointment to you”
The answer? Self Compassion.
We are bombarded with a world that gives us both external skepticism, and our own, larger, internal limitations. The hard part is recognizing it as so.
Roosevelt: The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.
Without vulnerability and self compassion, there is no tolerance for creativity, no innovation. So, maybe our form of self compassion doesn’t have to be crazy. Maybe it is just coming to peace with the idea that our output does not have to be perfect to be visible.
J:
expressing my appreciation for this freak slug & niquo collab:
N:
HONNE is one of my favorite bands, and they just released acoustic/dreamy versions of old songs that already have a piece of my heart: gone gone gone and la la la that’s how it goes are just beautiful
J:
recent small wins
hiding instagram
The app library is one of my new favorite features from iOS 14 - mainly, because I never remember to check it. I deleted Instagram from its normal folder, booting it into this hidden location. It’s scary realizing how reliant I was on the app; as I unlock my screen, I find myself unconsciously swiping once and clicking the icon on the top left of my screen (Sudoku now takes this spot). I have yet to find the strength to commit to a long-term IG detox, but it feels nice to have a bit of a breather.
Randomly getting these purple tulips from Whole Foods (you can’t pick the colors, but they knew!!)
Folding socks and managing to match more than one (1) pair
Folks, it really is the little things in life.
Literally winning a game of Among Us, as an imposter
N:
My New Aesthetic; Old Vintage Magazines
I think it’s interesting how fashion magazines actually focused a lot more on very abstract, psychedelic images back in the early 1900s, before it transitioned to the more model/celebrity images that are featured more now.
Architectural Digest, 1973
Harper’s Bazaar, 1959
Vogue, 1937
J:
This is not the first time I’ve quoted Pico Iyer, and it probably won’t be the last:
“Autumn poses the question we all have to live with: How to hold on to the things we love even though we know that we and they are dying. How to see the world as it is, yet find light within that truth.” - Pico Iyer, Autumn Light: Season of Fire and Farewells
N:
"If an egg is broken by an outside force, life ends. If broken by an inside force, life begins. Great things always begin from the inside.” – Jim Kwik
Via @mattswainblog (newsletter)
J:
re: this week’s indulgences
N:
Some More Unpublished Things I Wrote This Week
Hugs,
J & N