The Landscape of History

An interesting little book by John Lewis Gaddis about 'doing history' that I got through half of at the weekend, while enjoying the hospitality of SNCF for a few hours. There are several interesting perspectives here, one or two of which I disagree with, and one or two that stopped me in my tracks to reflect on.

One of these was his look at literal and abstract represtentation, which sparked off a few thoughts about my approach to photography. Another was the statement, in his discussion of the interdependency of variables, that 'Recounting the past requires narrative - simulating what happened...'. I haven't studied history since I was 13, and so my reaction to this may well seem naive to anyone that did more than that, (or to anyone else for that matter). I found this statement quite a shock.

A rational approach to the world relies to an extent on both the concept of causality and the possibility of knowing enough about events and their relationships to be able to understand them. And of course, Heisenberg and the uncertainty principle and all that, well, it's not possible at a fundamental level. I've heard about that; but I hadn't worked it into the everyday world, where it should be even more obvious. DOH! One of those 'how could I be so stupid' moments.

Historians are no different in principle from other people. We all simulate what happened through narrative. Politicians trying to please as many people as possible (all those with a vote anyway), historians reconstructing the past, colleagues covering their backs, children trying to get away with the latest little accident. And we make it up. We create a narrative of the past to suit our purposes. Which begs the question of 'what are the purposes?'.

'Many and varied' I suppose is the short answer. Justifying/explaining to ourselves or others some current past or future behaviour. Does that cover it? And that leads me on to another thought for another future post, about 'randomness' being transformed into 'meaningful' by purpose.

Cabin Fever

Life in the hills of the Massif Central has slowed this week. Well frankly it's stopped completely. Blizzards and temperatures reaching minus very parky have left the minor roads impassable. This is hardly unexpected, nor particularly outrageous in a European, let alone world context. But it's meant that our little family has been spending more time together than usual.

I might have expected a bit of cabin fever after 5 days, and it has been nice to retreat into my enclave, known rather unimaginatively as 'the office'. But it's been inspiring really, particularly Chloe being off school. We've been able to get into all sorts of things that we wouldn't have done otherwise. Her imagination and creative approach is genuinely inspiring and occasionally breathtaking.

She's a constant reminder of many of the wonderful things about being human, and particularly the creative, playful, passionate stuff that I and many others lost touch with as we went through school. As Hugh McLeod pointed out in how to be creative, 'Everyone is born creative; everyone is given their box of crayons...'

I'm still finding it tough to apply all the wonderful tips and ideas about being more creative to my life, and my salvation is Chloe. Playing and exploring ideas just for the hell of it is just OK with her. Even more important than work; although not to the extent of ratting on commitments or deadlines of course. So we've worked on Chloe's first book. Her illustrations are complete, the storyline's sorted, and half of it's written. We've played dice and got some good practice in mental and written addition along the way. And started a little Chloe family tree using Word and scanners and photos. Then there's the recorder tunes, (no really it doesn't sound that bad!) Made tissue paper dolls, played in the snow, painted some pictures and, well, loads more stuff.

One of the tough things I find is guilt about playing when I should be working, all driven by insecurity over earning a crust. I suspect moving into the rural middle of nowhere France hasn't helped my career prospects , but it sure as hell beats commuting in the southeast of England. Of course the secret is to liberate myself from this idea, to dissolve the distinction in my mind between work and play, to roll it all up into one perfectly integrated rounded life. That, after all, was the whole idea, 5 years ago, which led us here in the summer of 2003. But it's taking a while, and earning a crust is a constant challenge, spearheaded by my Blue Sky efforts.

Mind you, a major part of the whole idea is yet missing, and that makes a big difference. The wonderful advantages to creative thinking of being outside your habitual environment are all part of that. But there's something paradoxical about moving to such a place - there's a serious risk of it becoming habitual!

So the snow has been a creative treat, and a reminder that a little enforced freedom can be a real blessing. And a bright sparkly 7 year old is a really big bonus.

And another ... 

We've been having almost daily spectacular sunsets over the past few weeks, here's one that I particularly liked and chose to send to people as a New Year greeting this year. 

Sacrificing to succeed

I have this long debate going on with myself, and occasionally with some other people over a beer or two.

The question is: "If you pick any field of human endeavour, and then pick the most successful 10, 50, or 100 in that field, how many of those people will have sacrificed huge amounts of family life/interpersonal skills/love/happiness or whatever IN ORDER TO SUCCEED?"

The two competing theories are:

1. Just about everyone.
2. No more than in any cross-section of the human population.

Now, let's not even get into the methodology of defining success and so on; let's just assume we can agree on that at some point.

The point of the debate is for me to establish if you or I HAVE TO DO THIS to succeed too.

I have an idea as I write, (usually a worrying thing); it's another one of my 'books I would write and make millions if only I had the time' ideas. What about a collaborative thing? Based on a wiki say, let's get a few fields of endeavour, then add some successful people, and then rate them together on the extent, from 1-10, that they sacrificed their personal lives to succeed in their field.

By the way there is another question, which is how many of these people were downright nasty, and maybe we can do this or add others while we're at it.

Now where was that Hugh McLeod gapingvoid cartoon about it not being the nice guys that don't succeed but the wimp losers...

The Search for Meaning 2

I had another recurring thought yesterday about meaning. And it's sort of about relativity too.

If I have no focus or goal or passion, the world just washes over me. I don't discriminate. Because there is nothing in me that drives my selective attention. I am susceptible to manipulation, (conspiracy theory) or more likely just susceptible to being numbed by the kind of stimuli that wash around the world, crap TV, supermarket direct mail, and the conversations within earshot. It can be a random world, some place without meaning.

Get focused on something or passionate about something (or someone or somewhere etc.) and to start with I can begin to discriminate everything that washes past into yes or no; in-focus or out of focus. Then I can start actively seeking out amongst the random universe for the focus/passion stuff.

Then a special thing happens, the very fact of me maintaining this focus, feeding it, celebrating it and following it, the random world begins to throw out those magic moments, coincidences that make me feel like there's a God, or guardian angels and all that stuff. Now these are rare, but they are impressive when they happen.

I have a book story that illustrates this for me perfectly, but i don't think you'd like it.

So I'm going to start questing, and then all this will happen again, and then my 'book story', but a really good one, will hit me, and I'll tell it then.

Relative meaning.

Having conversations

I've just realised that I'm getting into conversation through blogs the same way I do in company.

Stage 1. Walk in and be there.
Stage 2. Look around and listen to what's going on.
Stage 3. Did you read that! Comment!
Stage 4. Hey I wonder if anyone's talking about x?
Stage 5. Conversations about x and lots of other stuff I would never have found otherwise.

But I'm only around stage 4 so far, and there maybe other mysteries between 4 and 5.

How was it for you?