Cameron Conaway's Blog, page 7
January 17, 2020
The 2 (or 3) step cure for writer's block
1. Stop referring to it as writer's block. The term speaks to the result, not the cause. It’d be like calling a fall down the steps a broken bone. Having worked with thousands of creative writing students from around the world, I've come to believe that swapping writer's block with curiosity fatigue makes it easier to address (and it's more accurate, so there's that).
2. Figure out why you’re fatigued. A lack of sleep? Juggling too many competing priorities? Relationship stress? Lost the arc of your character's development? Understanding why you're fatigued isn't always necessary, but I've found it to be helpful—especially for writers who have been fatigued for long periods.
3. Reclaim your curiosity. Doing so can take many forms—from not opening your manuscript for a few days and detoxing from coffee (I know, I know) to getting a great night of sleep or visiting an art museum. Taking care of yourself and intentionally getting out of your comfort zone are tried and true ways to reclaim your curiosity.
2. Figure out why you’re fatigued. A lack of sleep? Juggling too many competing priorities? Relationship stress? Lost the arc of your character's development? Understanding why you're fatigued isn't always necessary, but I've found it to be helpful—especially for writers who have been fatigued for long periods.
3. Reclaim your curiosity. Doing so can take many forms—from not opening your manuscript for a few days and detoxing from coffee (I know, I know) to getting a great night of sleep or visiting an art museum. Taking care of yourself and intentionally getting out of your comfort zone are tried and true ways to reclaim your curiosity.
January 16, 2020
Transforming the second arrow
In Buddhist literature, the second arrow refers to the controllable negative states of mind that can arise due to the suffering caused by the more or less uncontrollable first arrow.
We've all been caught in the throes of the second arrow. Here are a few personal examples. Try to plug relatable details of your stories into mine.
As the featured speaker at an event about masculinity, I made a thoughtless statement that both hurt me immediately after I said it and landed badly with the crowd. I knew better, but the words were now out in the world. There was no going back. That was the first arrow.
The second arrow followed swiftly after that in the form of my mind judging my performance as I was performing. Rather than having the presence of mind to acknowledge the mistake publicly and confidently move on, I became trapped in my inner world—at once trying to deliver a riveting speech while fending off a constant internal voice belittling my performance.
It was the second arrow, not the first, that rattled me into ultimately underdelivering for my audience.
The second arrow also struck when I lost my third mixed martial arts fight. The first arrow, for me, was the loss. I had trained for years and felt the sting of defeat.
The second arrow lasted for months as I harshly blamed myself for letting down so many people who had supported me. As with the speaking example, rather than feeling the initial sting of the loss and then pivoting to see it as a learning opportunity and as a chance to show gratitude to my supporters, I turned inward and sunk into a depression as the second arrow of blame and regret grew deeper.
If you think about it, there have likely been times in your life when a significant portion of your inner voice was the language of the second arrow. Over time, through meditation and other contemplative practices, we can build a self-awareness strong enough to recognize the second arrow as it's hurtling toward us.
The end goal, however, isn't to mask the second arrow or dwell in our self-awareness; it's to nurture our self-awareness so we can move from recognizing the second arrow mid-flight to positively transforming what it becomes.
We've all been caught in the throes of the second arrow. Here are a few personal examples. Try to plug relatable details of your stories into mine.
As the featured speaker at an event about masculinity, I made a thoughtless statement that both hurt me immediately after I said it and landed badly with the crowd. I knew better, but the words were now out in the world. There was no going back. That was the first arrow.
The second arrow followed swiftly after that in the form of my mind judging my performance as I was performing. Rather than having the presence of mind to acknowledge the mistake publicly and confidently move on, I became trapped in my inner world—at once trying to deliver a riveting speech while fending off a constant internal voice belittling my performance.
It was the second arrow, not the first, that rattled me into ultimately underdelivering for my audience.
The second arrow also struck when I lost my third mixed martial arts fight. The first arrow, for me, was the loss. I had trained for years and felt the sting of defeat.
The second arrow lasted for months as I harshly blamed myself for letting down so many people who had supported me. As with the speaking example, rather than feeling the initial sting of the loss and then pivoting to see it as a learning opportunity and as a chance to show gratitude to my supporters, I turned inward and sunk into a depression as the second arrow of blame and regret grew deeper.
If you think about it, there have likely been times in your life when a significant portion of your inner voice was the language of the second arrow. Over time, through meditation and other contemplative practices, we can build a self-awareness strong enough to recognize the second arrow as it's hurtling toward us.
The end goal, however, isn't to mask the second arrow or dwell in our self-awareness; it's to nurture our self-awareness so we can move from recognizing the second arrow mid-flight to positively transforming what it becomes.
January 15, 2020
How we work our ladder
We’re hardwired to judge and quickly make decisions. Today, however, it could be argued that this hardwiring is more of a detriment than a benefit. Too often, we gather questionable data, believe in it because it fits our pre-existing biases, and then seek out additional questionable data that validates this belief.
The late Chris Argyris, a former Harvard Business School professor, developed the “ladder of inference” to describe the process of our mental reasoning. It looks like this:
While running from predators or assessing the potential for violence of a nearby tribe are no longer priorities for most of us, we’re still prone to walk up and down the ladder far too quickly. This can result not only in miscommunication and broken relationships, but also in the development of increasingly extreme positions—something many of today’s politicians love to exploit.
The next time you find yourself judging or “knowing” something too quickly, first thank yourself for recognizing what happened, then ask yourself where you are on the ladder.
Note: for a more in-depth read on the ladder of inference, check out The Fifth Discipline Fieldbook: Strategies and Tools for Building a Learning Organization.
The late Chris Argyris, a former Harvard Business School professor, developed the “ladder of inference” to describe the process of our mental reasoning. It looks like this:
While running from predators or assessing the potential for violence of a nearby tribe are no longer priorities for most of us, we’re still prone to walk up and down the ladder far too quickly. This can result not only in miscommunication and broken relationships, but also in the development of increasingly extreme positions—something many of today’s politicians love to exploit.
The next time you find yourself judging or “knowing” something too quickly, first thank yourself for recognizing what happened, then ask yourself where you are on the ladder.
Note: for a more in-depth read on the ladder of inference, check out The Fifth Discipline Fieldbook: Strategies and Tools for Building a Learning Organization.
January 14, 2020
4′33″
In 1952, composer John Cage produced 4′33″—a piece four minutes and thirty-three seconds long in which the performer is instructed not to play their instrument. The “music” consists purely of what the listeners hear while it is “performed”—the song of birds, the laughter of people, etc.
While silence doesn’t technically exist, the quietest moments in our lives can offer us opportunities to listen to something deeper. 4′33″ was met with some outrage, just as quiet moments often are in societies where noise is normalized and perceived as progress.
There’s a truth to this quote often attributed to Mahatma Gandhi:
For those who value silence and the importance of listening, this can become a challenging but rewarding endeavor.
While silence doesn’t technically exist, the quietest moments in our lives can offer us opportunities to listen to something deeper. 4′33″ was met with some outrage, just as quiet moments often are in societies where noise is normalized and perceived as progress.
There’s a truth to this quote often attributed to Mahatma Gandhi:
“Speak only if it improves upon the silence.”
For those who value silence and the importance of listening, this can become a challenging but rewarding endeavor.
January 13, 2020
Screen time
Imagine a new kind of screen time, one where your inner thoughts are displayed on a real-time billboard for all to see. Would you be proud of how you think about yourself?
The distractions of today make it easier than ever to neglect three critical aspects of understanding our inner worlds:
1) getting distance from our thoughts to realize we are not our thoughts;
2) reflecting on our thoughts to recognize patterns, especially negative refrains; and,
3) developing mental habits that serve rather than hinder our goals.
To take back control we must recognize thoughts for what they are—projections onto our internal billboards. Yes, they may be comprised of a dizzying area of complex experiences and signals, but a newfound strength can arise when we realize we are the projector not the projected.
The distractions of today make it easier than ever to neglect three critical aspects of understanding our inner worlds:
1) getting distance from our thoughts to realize we are not our thoughts;
2) reflecting on our thoughts to recognize patterns, especially negative refrains; and,
3) developing mental habits that serve rather than hinder our goals.
To take back control we must recognize thoughts for what they are—projections onto our internal billboards. Yes, they may be comprised of a dizzying area of complex experiences and signals, but a newfound strength can arise when we realize we are the projector not the projected.
