When I first moved to micro.blog I had this dream that I would be able to write and publish freely. By removing the worry about what to post where and how it looked should have released more posts into the world. No stress from separating what goes on my blog and what goes on social media. By publishing whatever I wanted, however I wanted, I freed myself up to do more. Yet here I am years later, still trying to have a ‘proper blog’.
I still sit down with an idea, or two, looking to flesh it out and hit a magic 300 word mark where I start to think it might be publishable. Someone put this limit in my head years ago, possibly for SEO on a proper blog, and since then, I have always stuck to it. Titled properly, with an image for the rich link previews. Then and only then could I even think about it going live.
When the reality is, none of this matters. The way I, or anyone, formats their blog posts means exactly nothing. In fact, in some weird Red Sneaker Effect attempts, numerous publications are trying new things and evolving the way posts are structured. Yet here I am, asking ChatGPT to make me an image and worrying about these limits that I impose on myself.
I went so far before as hiding away my shorter posts from my home pages, but now show them along with everything else. I will continue to exclude these in the main RSS feed, and I do think that a lot of my ideas need to be developed and fleshed out to see if they even make sense. As I discussed before, I use this process as personal development, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hit publish.
This past April, I hit a bit of a snag with my journaling. I had this idea in my head that I’d be one of those people with a notebook always at hand, filled with insightful notes and daily reflections. Ready to write the best blog posts you’ve ever read — but the truth is, it wasn’t working out like that. I went on holiday this summer and didn’t miss scribbling in my notebook, which made me stop and think.
There was a time around last Christmas when I was really into it. I had convinced myself that this daily writing was the key to my happiness. But after a while, I realised that it wasn’t the act of writing that made me happy; it was me figuring out things for myself. Sure, the people and things I care about (like my family) can give me a boost, but at the end of the day, my happiness is up to me.
There’s something about writing by hand that feels right to me, even though it’s slower than typing, and you can’t just hit ‘search’ to find something you wrote. But for some reason, I just stopped using my notebook for a few months. It’s like it went into hibernation or something. Eventually, it just stopped being a part of my routine, and by the time summer came around, I had stopped using it altogether.
One has always been close by, but just sitting and waiting for me to pick it back up again. I had the occasional flick through it to find an idea or a quote I remember writing down, but always placing it back down again with a promise to start using it once more. Perhaps that day is today. Well, the past week or so, actually. I drew a line under everything, metaphorically and physically. I’ve got a new notebook now, and I’m ready to give it another shot.
Notebooks might come and go, but I’m sticking with it.
Can I come straight out and say it? I love reading, and books are my favourite. That gets all the disclaimers out of the way and makes my probable bias obvious right from the start. However, there is something about reading books that not only entertains me but means I learn more along the way, and the web will never replace that.
Books receive a lot of criticism. Even perceived intellectuals, like the now-disgraced crypto guru SBF, fail to see the value in books. They are denounced as “too slow” or not “entertaining enough” by a range of people who seem to think information should be mainlined into their veins. There is more to reading a book specifically that many people seem to miss - and reading doesn’t need to be hacked!
The entire experience of touching and turning pages might seem redundant, but that tactile chore is the very point. Research by Anne Mangen has shown a crucial link between the sensory and motor experience of reading a physical book. It draws not just on our sense of sight but also on our sense of touch, changing the depth of attention paid to words on a page compared to words on a screen.
My personal ranting about books that should have been blog posts does hide my enjoyment of reading them. There is something enjoyable about taking in someone’s prose that goes around the houses a bit and reinforces their ideas with real-life examples. While straight-to-the-point blog posts, like the one you’re reading now, have their place, there is joy in the ramble. The slow pulling back of the curtain to reveal new ideas, rather than a yanking of the cover and pointing, is delightful.
I am reminded of the habit all students get into of relying on Cliffnotes for books they’re supposed to read. Shoving the information straight into my brain instead of the steady drip from long text never worked. Nowadays, there are several companies out there summarising books and even films so you can act as if you consumed the content without actually doing the work. All of which achieve results, but lack that something special.
Much like my enjoyment of the pauses in podcasts, I think this comes from my tendency to enjoy being slow, but I find taking the time to read a book. A ‘real’ book if I can, adds so much to the enjoyment.
Perhaps I have listened to too many bro-podcasts over the last few days, but I am led to believe that a massive fear of failure exists in people. I fail at so many things that perhaps I am desensitised to the whole experience, but there is absolutely nothing to fear from not getting the result you wanted.
I should preface this with a warning about taking unneeded risks and not ruining things that make huge changes to your life — but outside this, fail hard and often. Failure is the way you find out what suits you best. It’s the way to round off the corners of all the square things you find to make sure something fits as you need it to. As Alain de Botton elegantly put it “It’s bad enough not getting what you want, but it’s even worse getting to the end and realising it isn’t what you wanted”.
How on earth do you even know what you want without failing at a million things first? I’ve tried Flip phones, and journals, notebooks, and hundreds of other things. All which fell flat on their face, and from the failure I learnt lessons, and improved the way my life works.
None of these things I pointed out above matter, it’s easy to fail at these things. Don’t even get me started on the declined job applications, rebuffed dating advances and miserable attempts at being a writer. At the time some of them seemed like world ending events, but I learnt things, I worked out what I wanted and and moved forward.
In many way I learnt how to fail and now I will never shy away from trying new things. Exploring my thoughts around subjects. Working out a millions ways to do a job before I dive in. Throwing a high percentage of draft blog posts into the bin. There is nothing wrong with any of these things, it is the not doing part that sucks. The wondering what if, or the missed opportunity because fear froze you. That sucks, failure doesn’t.
If you’ve read more than 2 of my blog posts, you will know I yearn for a simpler time. A time pre-smartphone, where everything didn’t rely on my having a computer in my pocket — whilst also loving technology. There is no getting away from the feelings, but I have become to realise that if you are not paying attention, how ridiculous the pursuit of less can become.
One of my favourite sub-Reddits is r/dumbphones, it is wonderful to see the phones people are still using and the ones available if you look hard enough. From old school Nokia remakes to mixes of flip phone keypads and Android. One of the post tends recently has been everyday carries, and seeing people using a flip phone and a notepad gives me hope. Then I see others lugging around a dumb phone, MP3 player, camera, kindle, and even more things — and that brings me back to reality.
This was one of the reasons I failed my flip phone experiment. At some point, you just have to realise that all this stuff is a bit ridiculous. This is no slight against the person posting in the screenshot above, it is more a revelation for me. The reason smartphones caught on so quickly is they cannibalised all of these extra things we used to carry around. They made our life easier, and going backwards is not always the way.
By having a smartphone in my pocket, am I actually making my life simpler. I have in my pocket a camera, kindle, music player, writing device and much more. There is a lot to be said for intentional barriers but carrying around all of these extra things doesn’t simplify anything. It just adds complexity. To carry on using a flip phone, past the week or so I managed, I would need to buy more devices when I can just exercise some self-control.
Which indeed is easier said than done, but it’s something to think about. I’m not completely convinced by Nir Eyal and his insistence that destruction is our personal fault, but I must take some responsibility. The solution is often not a worse experience, it is just to use the tool you have, well.