Today while playing outside with his Nonna (Melanie’s mom), Theo got to see the garbage truck come down the street and pick up our trash. You wouldn’t think this would matter much, but Theo loves watching the trash collectors work. He has a deep appreciation for taking objects from one container and putting them in another, so seeing these guys empty the cans and lift the buckets is a real treat.

And the guys in our neighborhood are pretty cool about it. I don’t know how many people really like the idea of someone else watching them work, but they always wave or smile or give some indication that they are not ticked off that this toddler is staring at them while they go about their business. That is really about the best I could ever hope for, them doing their jobs well and being nice about it.

Today, though, one of the guys went a few extra steps. He put on a red clown nose and walked to the garbage cans in a comically exaggerated fashion, taking large, elevated steps slower than he needed to. He made an effort to entertain a kid who happened to be watching him from the driveway. And he had props. That means it wasn’t a spur of the moment thing; he was ready in case the opportunity to bring a little extra joy into a child’s life presented itself to him.

Why?

It’s not his job to entertain. He’s not going to get a bonus for being the nicest guy on the back of the truck. We don’t know his name even if we wanted to pay him a compliment or praise him to his boss. It was a totally selfless act, one that he did just because it might make someone smile.

Or maybe it’s not totally selfless exactly. I’m sure he gets a kick out of it. And why shouldn’t he? I’m sure there are only so many ways to find joy in a job that most of us would scoff at. Maybe he complains at the end of the day because the work is hard and tiring and probably doesn’t pay that well. I imagine that’s the normal response. But I also imagine that his day feels a little better when he gets the chance to put on the nose, to put on a little show for a stranger. Not because he will get applause or tips or any sort of recognition. Just because he thought of it one day, or maybe he saw someone else do it, and he thought, “I have to pick up the can either way. Why not try to make someone smile or laugh while I do it?”

It makes me wonder how often I fail to see that as an option. So much of my life is spent doing the tasks I need to do, but how many times do I have the opportunity to put on a small show just to see if it will brighten someone else’s day?

I have to pick up the can anyway. Why not do it with a bright red nose?

Footnote: As for Theo, he takes his garbage collection quite seriously, so he didn’t crack a smile for the guy. But he did later when he told me about it. And I’m certain he will be looking for a red nose the next time the trash truck comes down the road.

During one evening’s wine drinking, about to start on bottle number two, I hit pause on whatever mindless Bravo show I was watching and decided to watch inspiring Ted Talks – might as well watch others win at life.  After a few, I started to feel mildly optimistic, but not enough to put the glass and the pepperoni pizza down.  But then I saw Shawn Achor’s piece on happiness.  Commence mind blowing and pizza dropping.  The path to happiness distilled into five daily tasks.

Here’s that presentation. It’s entertaining and informative. And about twelve minutes.

The daily tasks Hyde mentions are:

1. Meditate
2. Identify 3 new things you’re grateful for
3. One random act of kindness
4. Journal about one good thing that happened
5. Exercise

And instead of just letting that info blow by him, like so many TED Talks do, Hyde decided to turn it into a 30 Day Challenge. He set some rules and ventured forth, stepped into the arena.

I appreciate that.  And I appreciate the theory behind Shawn Achor’s daily tasks. Fortunately, I’m currently not struggling with depression, and I consider myself in a pretty decent place emotionally. But there’s always room for improvement.

So, even though it has been a while since Hyde first issued his challenge to himself, I’ve decided to follow suit. I’m going to use his rules as well, which I think he’ll appreciate. As he says, “I love a plan. Especially when someone else does the planning.  And especially-especially when it doesn’t take money or years.”

So, here’s the setup, almost entirely cribbed from Hyde:

1. For the next 30 days, I will do each of those 5 tasks everyday.
2. I will write about it every day.
3. I will not judge the project as working or not working until the end of 30 days at which I will decide whether or not to continue or look for a new way.
4. I will not give up.

In case you’re wondering, there probably will not be stick figures, but you should enjoy Hyde’s if you get a chance. Also, I won’t be devoting the blog to the challenge. Instead, I’ll be posting my updates to the Write Your Bliss Facebook Page. If you haven’t checked it out yet, that’s okay. There’s nothing really there yet, but there will be. You can follow the link above, or the fancy icon at the top of the page. I’d be happy to have you “like” and share the page, but only if you feel like it has some sort of value.

I’d also be happy to join me in the challenge if you like. Make it your own. Do as many tasks as you find manageable. I think it will be a fun and educational ride, and I look forward to taking it with you.

Typing

When I first started to learn to type in junior high, I had already had a limited exposure to computers and keyboards. I was a decent hunter-pecker. I appreciated the idea of touch typing though. I remember showing off my skill one day to my dad. I’m pretty sure I was typing the classic sentence about the fox and dog, and I showed him (proudly) how I could type the entire thing, every letter in the alphabet, without looking down at the keys. He said that was pretty good, and then said, “What about this? What if you look at the keys?” And he typed the sentence much faster while looking down, not quite hunting and pecking but somewhere in between.

I was thinking about this as I struggled through typing in the Dvorak layout this week. I feel like I’m actually starting to get the key placement down, but I keep wanting my fingers to have the muscle memory to go as fast as my Qwerty speed. Most of the advice I’ve read on learning to type suggests that slow is better. Accuracy should be the first goal and speed will come later. This is really what I’ve struggled with, not the new layout, not the unfamiliar arrangement or letter combinations, it’s the idea that I can’t be as fast as I am used to. This is not a new problem for me.

Roller Skating

Some of you will remember roller rinks. Some of you may even still have one nearby; although, I haven’t been to one in years (decades?). When I was growing up, there was a roller rink not too far from us, and we frequented it pretty regularly. At some point in my learning to skate, I encountered a problem. The skating area was not an infinite straight line; it was an oval. In order to continue skating for any length, I had to learn how to go around a curve.

I worked out my own technique that allowed me to use a walking/shuffling motion to get around the curve, but that isn’t the best way to do it. There is a better method that  involves picking up one foot and crossing it over the other and some repetition. Or something like that. I never actually learned how to do it. It was too slow. The actual motion wasn’t slow, but learning it was. I had several different people offer to teach me, but I never pursued it for long. That learning was getting in the way of my skating.

So, I remained stunted in my skating skills. When it came to racing, I actually did alright for a while because I was able to catch kids on the straightaways. But as we got older, those with decent technique left me behind. Also, rollerblades.

Swimming

I had a similar issue with swimming. I don’t actually recall learning how to swim when I was a kid, but I know I was never taught “proper” technique, not the strokes of competitive swimmers. And that was fine. I powered my way through the bad form. For the most part, I didn’t really know any better until Melanie (who grew up in the world of competitive swimming) offered to teach me how to swim laps for real. Or maybe I talked her into teaching me. Either way, we were in grad school, and as an educated man in his late twenties, I quickly learned that I didn’t know how to swim.

I didn’t have breath control. I didn’t know how to coordinate my arms and my torso. I didn’t know how to kick correctly. I couldn’t even float.

As we worked through the various issues I was having, I started to progress some, to find my way a little more gracefully through the water. But I was still never patient enough. Rather than do the drills that would make proper form a habit, I wanted to do faster laps. I wanted get tangibly better, so I would allow my technique to fall by the wayside when I was trying to speed up. And that’s unfortunate because the practice falls into that repetitive, meditative exercise I alluded to yesterday. But you can’t get there if you’re worried about drowning. And by focusing on speed, on being better already, I never really moved past the uncomfortable stage.

I won’t say that I have given up on swimming, but I think it’s safe to conclude that I won’t have a triumphant return to skates anytime soon. And I still can’t float.

Writing

When it comes to writing, it can be difficult to know how to slow down, to build the proper technique. I mean, we know how to put words together into sentences, together into paragraphs. We know how writing works, right? While I think that it is true for the most part, I also believe we can find value in taking a step back from our larger ideas and focus on smaller chunks. We can improve our form by working on sentences removed from anything larger. We can build our technique by creating scenes or images that are not meant to be just one piece in a story or essay.

Sure, it’s slow. Sure, it feels wasteful. “What do you mean, write something without any intention of using it?” Through this practice, though, we can become better writers without the stress or baggage of wondering whether or not it’s good enough to go in our project. And we can hold onto it if we like it, waiting for a later time to use it.

Also, reading. Reading is very important for improving your writing, but it isn’t always fast either.

Once again, this is in the easier said than done category. I’m going to do some thinking about how best to do this myself, in a way that I can be held accountable. For now, here’s a short list of other activities where my inability to go slow ultimately hindered my growth.

• Playing guitar
• Soccer
• Spanish
• French
• Woodworking
• Drawing
• Playing the drums
• Playing the piano
• Photography
• And so on

Make Something

I made dinner every day this week. That’s the best I can come up with, and I’m not entirely sure it’s even true. I know that we’ve done a little better this week about eating healthier. Not healthy, but healthier.

Learn Something

I learned that toddlers are not to be reasoned with when chocolate is involved. Not my toddler. Not after any amount of chocolate has already been consumed. I guess at this point we can hide the Easter Candy in the Halloween bucket, which is still nearly full from October.

Karate Chop Something

I feel a bit like karate chopping myself. I mean it figuratively because I don’t have the greatest sense of accomplishment at the moment. Just a dip in the roller coaster, I suppose. But I did take the opportunity to literally karate chop myself just now, so check mark on this one.

Try Something New

I tried writing most of my posts later in the day, often late enough that they should probably barely count as being on the right day. It happened early in the week and then started to snowball. I don’t like the trend, though, and I will work to change it.

Be Nice to Someone

In general, I was pleasant. I’m sure I complimented some people and maybe did a few thoughtful things, but the fact that nothing stands out means I didn’t do such a great job this week. I feel like I’ve written nearly that exact sentence before, which doubly means I need to work harder at this, probably on all of this.

Maybe I should try being nice to myself right now. I feel somewhat bummed about how the week has gone, but I think it is likely a good opportunity to show myself a little compassion. I probably wouldn’t berate someone else I care about the way I am doing in my mind right now. This is generally unhelpful self-talk, so I should likely silence it, or stop paying attention to it.

Some days are hard. Some weeks are. For the most part, it’s the act of moving forward that’s important, not so much the pace.

So, here’s to a fresh start, one of the undercelebrated perks of Monday.

If you’re like most people, Wednesdays are a tough day to get through. You’ve moved past the transition of Monday and the momentum building of Tuesday. You know that on Thursday, it feels like you’ve started moving downhill and Friday can just be the finishing touch to the week. But there’s Wednesday in the middle. A bland hump. A hurdle.

I’m not really a big fan when I stop to think about it. But when I don’t stop to think about it, when I recognize that each day can function on its own terms, Wednesday can be just another day for doing the work. I also realize that I have to keep watch for this mindset in other areas. The middle of the month, for example, or the middle of the year can feel like the doldrums. Or maybe it’s your Saturn return or a middle of the life crisis. To head in the opposite direction, the middle of the day, the middle of the hour. If you start to look for those moments, you might realize every minute can function as a midpoint to “get through.”

Better probably to see them as opportunities instead of obstacles. Unless, of course, it’s just one of those days. Sometimes, they come and we have to let them.

What are your tough days? Tough times? Tough months?

This is not me, just how I felt.

Headed out of the backdoor, on my way to work after a rushed morning with much on my mind, I decide to take a moment to discard an old bag of dog food and go ahead and feed the dog while I’m at it. I place my jacket and bag on the dryer and proceed to do accomplish a task I believe will take one minute, after which I will feel good about my choice to be a doer and not a procrastinator.

After feeding the dog, however, I do not see my keys on the key hooks. I search my pants pockets and double check the hooks. I survey all the counters in the kitchen. I wander back to the office, trying to remember if I had the keys out when I picked up my bag and computer. I search my pants pockets. Then I stop for a moment to rethink my morning. I had taken the dog for a walk, which means I should have had the keys then. I check the pants I had on while walking. I check the bathroom counter.

While I am wandering almost aimlessly about the house, I think about how absentminded I am, how much smoother my morning would be if I had a routine. I think about how I will probably need to take the toll road into work so I can shave a few minutes off the commute. I search my pants pockets. I realize this is not actually helping me find my keys, so I pause again and reflect. I remember taking the keys off the hook because I was thinking about how a different set was missing. I must have had them when I was about to leave because I wouldn’t have gone into the utility room to see the dog food bags without my keys.

On the dryer I find my jacket and keys and feel a sense of relief and frustration. Then I notice that the door is open, not just ajar but halfway open. Has Rory run off? She is prone to take advantage of such an opportunity, and I likely left the intermediary door open while looking for my keys. I step through the doorway and whistle, prepared to chase her down. I stop, and realize I should probably get her leash first. I step back inside and grab the leash, turn and start to head back out. I pause. Maybe I should check the house first before creeping around the cul-de-sac in search of a dog who might not be there. I am not quite paralyzed, but I can’t decide what is the best use of my time.

As I turn again, this time to head back in the house, I see Rory standing in the doorway, likely in response to my whistling for her. I curse myself, audibly maybe, or maybe just in my head. I laugh a little and put the leash back. Gathering up all my work things, I head out again, thinking that I should definitely take the toll road.

I consider all the moments I could have taken a breath and collected my thoughts, to actually work through the situation I was in and where I might have left the keys. I think about how often I waste time in this kind of foggy, not quite present state. I replay the whole charade over in my mind. And I realize, as a cross the freeway on the overpass, that I forgot to take the turn for the toll road.

This is too often my life. Unmindful. Disorganized. Frayed.

Make Something

I finished building Melanie’s website this week, and I feel pretty good about it even though it could still use some work. I suggest you pay Melanie a visit, not because the site is great but because the content is. Be careful though; Melanie’s writing will hit you in your feeling place, hard.

Learn Something

I learned the world “brutiful” this week. It’s a portmanteau Glennon Doyle Melton uses to describe those moments in life that are both beautiful and brutal. I heard it in a fantastic interview on the The One You Feed podcast, which I cannot get enough of lately. Just one of many takeaways from their discussion: the way out of almost any funk is Art and Service.

Karate Chop Something

I metaphorically karate chopped the front yard this weekend. It finally stopped raining long enough to cut it, and instead of putting it off for another weekend, I just got it done. That’s a small thing, but it’s a big victory for me since I almost always wait too long to cut the grass.

Try Something New

Hmm. This might be my failure for the week. I didn’t intentionally set out to try something new, and I think that oversight has caught up to me. Instead of claiming that the typing experiment should count here, I’m just gonna acknowledge that I need to improve. 

Be Nice to Someone

I forwarded a podcast I really enjoyed to a few people I thought would appreciate it (the same one I mentioned above). And that is actually all I can think of at the moment, which means I need to work on this area in the coming week too, or I need to do a better job of keeping track. 

Overall, I did alright, but I need to be more intentional about this. Also, I should probably be aiming to practice the Five Karate Moves to Success everyday, not just per week.

Good luck on your own forthcoming week.

Make Something

Most of our official Play-Doh has managed to dry out and make its way to the trash, so I thought I would try making some DIY play dough. It’s a little hard to believe that I haven’t done that yet since we have a two and a half year old, but this was the first time (I won’t double count it as Trying Something New). I ended up using this recipe, which I just found via Google. I didn’t do much research because I basically decided to try it on a whim after work one day. I was likely motivated in park by ensuring that I intentionally made something this week. It didn’t turn out all that great. It looks basically like Play-Doh, but I ran into a few problems.

The main issue is that it is very sticky. I don’t think I cooked it quite long enough, but it seemed fine at the beginning. It just got stickier with time, especially after putting it in a sealed bag for a day. Next time I will try cooking it for longer and maybe storing it something else? I also didn’t really think about how to make it colorful. We don’t have any food coloring on hand, or powdered paint, or anything else that seemed appropriate. I read that someone used cocoa powder (which I think they used mostly as a scent), so I tried that with one of the balls and managed to get a decent brown. It also makes your hands smell like chocolate, though. Theo didn’t actually try to taste it, but Rory (the dog) did. I was going to try to post an image of something we made with our dough, but it didn’t hold its shape well. Overall, the was mostly a failure, but it’s one I’ll try again. Also, it made me think of bread making, which is nice.

Learn Something

My MFA thesis was a short novel about insurance. Rather, it was about a guy involved in the insurance world. One thing I learned this week is that I was in no way qualified to try to write about that topic. Insurance, specifically health insurance, is an ugly and convoluted beast. But that’s not actually what I want to talk about.

This week Radiolab shared a compelling story about the Fu-Go, a little known initiative conducted by Japan in World War II. The gist is that in response to the Doolittle Raid (which was a response to Pearl Harbor), Japan explored ways to bomb the US mainland even with an overextended navy. An experiment they actually tried was to send giant balloons across the Pacific in the jet stream. They devised an elegant system using altimeters and sandbags that would allow the balloons to make it all the way across the ocean, where they would begin dropping bombs and causing general terror. I had never heard of any of it and found it quite fascinating. The podcast can be found at Radiolab. They also have some great images. FYI: while the story is mostly just entertaining, they do discuss one of the very few “successful” attacks, which includes a heart breaking interview.

Karate-chop Something

I guess I forgot this one again. Or, I didn’t really find an appropriate time to karate-chop anything. Theo and I did play “hitting” numerous times. This game involves repeatedly slamming and/or throwing stuffed animals into each other. But it isn’t really karate-chopping.

Try Something New

I’m going to use the switching to Dvorak experiment here since that was my original intention. But I won’t fall back on it every week. It has been a challenge, and I’ve learned quite a bit, much of it not related to typing. I think that’s one of the benefits of trying new things. It expands your perspective in ways you might not have expected. You can read this Dvorak post for more details.

Be Nice to Someone

I tried to put more thought into being nice to people this week. At the moment I can think of only a few instances. I complimented a co-worker on her hair when I noticed it was different. I slowed down to let some people by in traffic. I sent what I believe were personal and thoughtful messages to a couple on their anniversary. I spent part of an afternoon doing something I know was important to Melanie.

I don’t think any of these need further details. I will say that it feels good to make kind gestures, even when they’re small.

And now we’re halfway through March, which feels pretty wild to me. I hope you make some moves to success this week. Let me know if you have any good ideas for stuff to karate-chop.

Mostly, I’ve been using the Learn Dvorak keyboard training, which you can check out here. I like that you can choose to map your Qwerty keyboard to Dvorak without having to change anything else. It also has “lessons” where you can run through the Dvorak home keys and then add others by typing actual words. I have played around with it throughout the day, I would say averaging about 30 minutes a day. I first thought I would stick with a specific lesson until I “mastered” it, but I realized that would put me in a tough spot when it came time for my first typing test. So, I’ve gone through each of them a few times. The progress is slow so far, but here are a couple points I’ve picked up.

The Dvorak keyboard layout does make a lot more sense.

This is pretty obvious when you see how many words you can make from the basic home keys, the ones that don’t require you to ever move your fingers. Here’s a random selection: hose, tuna, aunt, snoot, teen, shots. Compared to the Qwerty, (adds, Alaska, dads, lass, flask), the obvious difference is the vowels. With Dvorak, you get them all except “i”, which is still on the home row. In Qwerty, you get “a”. Yup, just one vowel. According to the references I’ve looked at, the possible English words on the Qwerty home row, including moving the index finger for “g” and “h” tops out at under 200. And it includes many that only a Scrabble lover could appreciate. (But you do get the semi-colon!) As for how well these advantages play out, I think I’ll get a better sense of it as I go along.

Fun fact: one of the serendipitous combinations I got when moving to the full Dvorak keyboard was “joshing egoist”, which you can take however you wish.

Switching keyboard layouts is simple, but it isn’t easy.

Typing, for me at this point, falls into the category of “things you do every day, without thinking.” I suppose I knew that before, but trying a new layout really throws that in your face. It felt similar to learning a new language to me, or maybe it reminded me what it was like to learn how to type at the very beginning. Although, even that doesn’t quite compare because when I learned for the first time, I didn’t have a reference point. It made me think about what it must be like for someone who has had a significant injury and is forced to relearn how to walk or write. I still don’t think I could imagine how excruciating that must be, but I think the keyboard layout switch gives me a little insight. I’m sure one of the major differences is that there are no major consequences with this experiment, so that relieves much of the stress and frustration. It is certainly a good exercise in patience, though.

The early part of the learning curve can be fun and maybe addictive.

It is pretty easy to see small victories when practicing. It feels good to correctly remember where a letter is without having to “cheat” or take forever thinking about it. And the practice itself doesn’t require a lot of thinking, just concentration. It can be a bit of a break, like playing a game. However, just like with playing games, it is easy to turn to it to avoid “real” work. I found myself thinking, more than once, “Eh, I don’t want to think about X right now. I could just do some typing instead.” And it can actually be more dangerous than a typical game because I feel like I am being productive in learning this new skill. I have to be conscious of what is truly important and what is more of a side project. Sometimes that introspection can be difficult. Using typing practice as a form of procrastination is something I’ll have to watch for.

I’m not ready to make the switch to Dvorak.

If I went completely cold turkey, I would probably be much further along in my Dvorak skills, but I can’t really imagine how much slower all of my work would have gone. It would be hours and hours I think. For now, I will stick with the slower transition. I am considering switching over to Dvorak for the occasional email, etc. when I have time instead of just doing the separate practice. In part, because I’ve found that it is a different situation when you are trying to compose in your mind and remember where letters are at the same time.

So, that’s where I stand right now. Let me know if you have any questions or if you’re playing along at home. Thanks for reading.

from Wikipedia

I recently (like just a few days ago recently) wrote about how Qwerty vs Dvorak isn’t really a productive discussion when it comes to writing. Because typing is only one, somewhat insignificant aspect of the process, if you even type at all. But then I wrote yesterday about the Five Karate Moves for Success, and I started thinking about the Try Something New move. And here’s where we get into the weeds, or leaves of grass in this case because I think maybe a little Dvorak experiment could payoff for both typing and writing. “Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.” I’m pretty sure Whitman Whitman was referring to keyboard layouts.

If you read more than a few posts of mine, after I actually have more than a few posts available, you’ll likely recognize that I don’t always argue the same side of an issue. In part, that’s because I’m often exploring my own ideas through writing, and I don’t have them set in stone. Or, I might come across some new information that causes me to reconsider an earlier position. If I were a politician, I would be accused of not knowing what I think or changing my mind when it’s convenient. Since I’m just a person who likes to ask questions, I’m comfortable in my flip-floppiness. I also happen to think that an adherence to resolve, an inability (or unwillingness) to consider new data, is a major source of our currently bitter political discourse. But that’s really a topic for another day.

For now, I want to say the following. 1) I like experiments. 2) I like the possibility of self-improvement. 3) After reading up on Dvorak a little more, I realized it’s not just about speed but also about ergonomics and stamina; a more efficient keyboard can lead to fewer finger problems and allow you to type fast for longer periods. 4) I’m second-guessing my hypothesis that faster typing doesn’t lead to better writing; I feel like it could, especially if it allows you to enter more of a flow state, especially if you’re working for ugly first drafts.

So, I’m going to see where this leads me. I’ll report back, maybe once a week, maybe biweekly. Here’s a screenshot of a very informal typing test I did on typingtest.com, which will serve as my benchmark. If you want to play along, I’m starting with the exercises at http://learn.dvorak.nl/ It has a little web app that allows you to learn the Dvorak setup without changing your keyboard settings. Some people recommend just switching cold turkey, but since my day job (and my night job and my in between jobs) relies heavily on my ability to write/type coherently, I’m going to start a little slower. I don’t know what type of daily schedule I’ll hold myself to, but I’ll relay that in my first report. Let me know if you have any questions, or if you think this is totally dumb, or if you really just don’t care about my typing (I think that’s probably valid).

Wish me luck.