‘Loneliness(ˈlōnlēnəs) Kills’: A Middle-Aged Dad Seeks Friendship

By A.J. Jacobs

In one sense, the journalist Billy(ˈbilē) Baker(ˈbākər) has undertaken a self-defeating task: to cure his loneliness by writing a book. He could’ve made a documentary(ˌdäkyəˈment(ə)rē) — seems more social — but instead he’s chosen one of the loneliest(ˈlōnlē) professions, involving endless days of solitary(ˈsäləˌterē) confinement(kənˈfīnmənt) in a room with your keyboard and self-doubt, to try to reconnect with friends.

Still, Baker manages to pull it off, mostly. When not typing at his desk alone, he speaks to psychologists, goes on male-bonding trips and tries to embrace(əmˈbrās) his vulnerable(ˈvəln(ə)rəb(ə)l) side. The result is “We Need to Hang Out,” an entertaining mix of social science, memoir(ˈmemˌwär) and humor(ˈ(h)yo͞omər), as if a Daniel(ˈdanyəl) Goleman book were filtered through the lens of Will Ferrell.

Baker, a middle-aged dad and Boston Globe writer, starts with the thesis(ˈTHēsis) that we’ve been in the midst of a loneliness crisis(ˈkrīsis) — even before Covid. “In the 21st century,” he writes, “loneliness has become an epidemic(ˌepəˈdemik).” He cites(sīt) a 2019 survey(sərˈvā) that found 61 percent of Americans are officially lonely, according to the “gold standard” U.C.L.A. Loneliness Scale(skāl).

As the political(pəˈlidək(ə)l) scientist and sociologist(ˌsōsēˈäləjəst) Robert Putnam put it 20 years ago, we are increasingly “bowling(ˈbōliNG) alone.” This is not a trivial problem. “Loneliness kills,” Baker writes. It’s a public health threat(THret) linked to shorter life spans, heart disease, obesity(ōˈbēsədē) and Alzheimer’s.

…
https://www.nytimes.com/2021/01/26/books/review/we-need-to-hang-out-billy-baker.html

Relaxing(rəˈlaks) with Chaos

By Leo Babauta

There’s a big part of us that doesn’t like chaos: we want order and simplicity(simˈplisədē) and feeling like we’re on top of things and doing things the “right” way.

And so when things feel chaotic(kāˈädik), we scramble(ˈskrambəl) for some kind of stability:

…

When someone is upset with us, we might not like the feeling of being judged and the uncertainty about how people see us, and so we might lash(laSH) out at them or spin(spin) around a story for days about how terrible that person is.
When plans don’t go how we hoped they would, we feel like we’re on unsteady(ˌənˈstedē) ground, and we start criticizing(ˈkridəˌsīz) ourselves or feeling like we’re doing things wrong and things are out of control, and it might bring a lot of stress in our lives.

…

Do you relate(rəˈlāt) to any of these examples? In fact, the uncertainty of our chaotic lives is perhaps the main cause of our anxiety, stress, frustration, self-doubt, fears, procrastination, distraction and more.

We know when we’re feeling this chaos when we’re reaching for a new tool, system, method, tactic(ˈtaktik), plan, expert, book on a topic … or our phones.

There is nothing wrong with any of these things. It’s just how we normally respond to chaos.

But if we could relax in the middle of that chaos, it could do so much for us:

We would be OK with the feeling of overwhelm, and not need to panic or feel bad.
We would simply take the next step.
We could focus on one thing at a time.JKH
…
And much, much more.

The training is to learn to relax with chaos. And from that place, decide on the next simple step.

…
https://zenhabits.net/relax-chaos/

Why self-compassion(kəmˈpaSHən) – not self-esteem(əˈstēm) – leads to success

Talking about being kind to yourself may sound like something from a nursery(ˈnərs(ə)rē) classroom. But even cynics(ˈsinik) should care about self-compassion – especially if they want to be resilient(rəˈzilyənt).

By David Robson

Think back to the last time you failed or made an important mistake. Do you still blush(bləSH) with shame, and scold(skōld) yourself for having been so stupid or selfish(ˈselfiSH)? Do you tend to feel alone in that failure, as if you were the only person to have erred(er)? Or do you accept that error is a part of being human, and try to talk to yourself with care and tenderness(ˈtendərnəs)?

For many people, the most harshly(ˈhärSHlē) judgemental responses are the most natural. Indeed, we may even take pride(prīd) in being hard on ourselves as a sign of our ambition and resolution(ˌrezəˈlo͞oSH(ə)n) to be our best possible self. But a wealth of research shows that self-criticism(ˈkridəˌsizəm) often backfires – badly. Besides increasing our unhappiness and stress levels, it can increase procrastination, and makes us even less able to achieve our goals in the future.

Instead of chastising(ˈCHasˌtīz) ourselves, we should practice self-compassion: greater forgiveness of our mistakes, and a deliberate(dəˈlib(ə)rət ) effort to take care of ourselves throughout times of disappointment or embarrassment(əmˈberəsmənt). “Most of us have a good friend in our lives, who is kind of unconditionally supportive(səˈpôrdiv),” says Kristin Neff(e), an associate professor of educational psychology at the University of Texas at Austin, who has pioneered(ˌpīəˈnir) this research. “Self-compassion is learning to be that same warm, supportive friend to yourself.”

…
https://www.bbc.com/worklife/article/20210111-why-self-compassion-not-self-esteem-leads-to-success

Driven by Curiosity(ˌkyo͝orēˈäsədē)

By Steve Pavlina

People often ask me what drives me. While there can be many motivations for taking action, I’d say that one of my biggest drivers is curiosity. I love to learn, and I find it most valuable to learn through hands-on direct experience.

In my early years of exploring personal development, I did a combination of reading books and doing experiments on my own. I almost always found direct experimentation(ikˌsperəmənˈtāSH(ə)n) to be a better investment. Books were mostly good for stimulating further experimentation. It was rare that I found good ideas from books that I could apply as-is. Most ideas I picked up from books were misaligned(ˌmisəˈlīnd), and they often led me astray(əˈstrā) for a while. I made the mistake of trusting other authors too much and giving them too much credibility(ˌkredəˈbilədē). I mistook their confidence as a reason to presume(prəˈz(y)o͞om) that their ideas were flawless(ˈflôləs).

Many of my best advancements and cherished(ˈCHeriSH) experiences started with a spark of curiosity. Then I added fuel(ˈfyo͞o(ə)l) to that spark by investing in exploration.

I went vegan(ˈvēɡən) 24 years ago because of curiosity. I’m eating raw this year because of curiosity. I became an entrepreneur after college(ˈkälij) because I was curious(ˈkyo͝orēəs) about it. I moved to Las(ä) Vegas(ˈvāɡəs) because of curiosity.

…
https://stevepavlina.com/blog/2021/01/driven-by-curiosity/

Review of “Rear(rir) Window”

By Roger Ebert

The hero of Alfred(ˈalfrəd) Hitchcock’s(ˈhiCHˌkäk) “Rear Window” is trapped in a wheelchair(ˈ(h)wēlˌCHer), and we’re trapped, too–trapped inside his point of view, inside his lack of freedom and his limited options. When he passes his long days and nights by shamelessly maintaining a secret watch on his neighbors, we share his obsession(əbˈseSHən). It’s wrong, we know, to spy on others, but after all, aren’t we always voyeurs(voiˈyər, vwäˈyər) when we go to the movies? Here’s a film about a man who does on the screen what we do in the audience–look through a lens at the private lives of strangers.

The man is a famous photographer named L.B. Jeffries–”Jeff” to his fiancée(ˌfēˌänˈsā). He’s played by James Stewart(ˈst(y)o͞oərt, ˈsto͞oːərt) as a man of action who has been laid up with a broken leg and a heavy(ˈhevē) cast that runs all the way up to his hip. He never leaves his apartment and has only two regular visitors. One is his visiting nurse Stella(ˈstelə) (Thelma Ritter(ˈritər)), who predicts trouble (“the New York State sentence for a Peeping Tom is six months in the workhouse”). The other is his fiancée, Lisa Fremont(ˈfrēmänt) (Grace Kelly), an elegant model and dress designer, who despairs of ever getting him to commit himself. He would rather look at the lives of others than live inside his own skin, and Stella lectures(ˈlek(t)SHər) him, “What people ought to do is get outside their own house and look in for a change.”

https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/great-movie-rear-window-1954

The Therapeutic(ˌTHerəˈpyo͞odik) Value of Reading

Books can help calm and transport you from pandemic stress. But many of us are finding it harder to read now. Here’s how—and why—to get back to it.

By Elizabeth Bernstein

This past year, I’ve found myself returning again and again to a line of poetry by Emily Dickinson(ˈdikənsən): “There is no frigate(ˈfriɡit) like a book.”

Like many people, I’ve needed the therapeutic effects of reading more than ever this year. As neuroscientists(ˈn(y)o͝orōˌsīəntəst) and psychologists (and your high school English teacher) will tell you: Books are good for the brain. And their benefits are particularly vital(ˈvīdl) now. Books expand our world, providing(prəˈvīdiNG) an escape and offering novelty(ˈnävəltē), surprise and excitement, which boost dopamine(ˈdōpəˌmēn). They broaden(ˈbrôdn) our perspective and help us empathize(ˈempəˌTHīz) with others. And they can improve our social life, giving us something to connect over.

Books can also distract us and help reduce our mental chatter(ˈCHadər). When we hit that glorious(ˈɡlôrēəs) “flow state” of reading where we’re fully immersed in a book, our brain’s default mode network likely calms down, says Jud Brewer(ˈbro͞oər), a psychiatrist(sīˈkīətrəst) who directs research at Brown University’s Mindfulness Center. That’s a network of brain regions that is active when we are not doing anything else and that can get absorbed(əbˈzôrbd) in worrying and rumination(ˌro͞oməˈnāSH(ə)n).

…
https://www.wsj.com/articles/the-therapeutic-value-of-reading-11612310400

Does it help to be desperate(ˈdesp(ə)rət)?

By Derek Sivers

I’d always felt it was best to never be desperate.

Confidence comes from knowing you have many options.

But reading the autobiography(ˌôdəbīˈäɡrəfē) of Richard(ˈriCHərd) Branson, the founder of Virgin(ˈvərjən), it was clear his entire career was driven by a self-created desperation(ˌdespəˈrāSH(ə)n).

He would always sweet-talk the bank into giving him a large loan(lōn) to take on an ambitious(amˈbiSHəs) new venture. Then he’d stay deep in debt(det) past the final hour, always to the brink(briNGk) of getting repossessed(ˌrēpəˈzes), and use that do-or-die desperation to take an even more ambitious gamble(ˈɡambəl), somehow coming out ahead.

Just enough to pay off the loan, then do it again with something even more ambitious.

Here are some examples:

When he was only 21, running “Virgin Records(ˈrekərd) and Tapes(tāp)”, his little record shop in Notting Hill, he thought what rock stars needed was a big, comfortable house in the country where a band could come and stay for weeks at a time and record whenever they felt like it. So he drove around the countryside, looking at ads, found a 15-bedroom manor(ˈmanər) that had been on the market a long time, and was able to make a great deal for £30k. He had no money himself, but borrowed a little from his family, then showed the bank his business receipts(rəˈsēt) and got a loan. He turned it into a successful recording(rəˈkôrdiNG) studio.

…

So here I am reading this, impressed but confused.

I’m frugal(ˈfro͞oɡəl). I avoid debt. I save most of my income, and never spend more than I earn. Because of this, I’m comfortable. Is this the wrong approach?

Could it actually help to be desperate? Could that drive us to new heights, out of necessity(nəˈsesədē)?

On the other hand, haven’t we all seen smart people do dumb things when desperate, like signing bad deals or stealing(stēl)?

So what’s the difference?

I don’t know the answer. Do you have any ideas? I’ll gather some ideas from the comments(ˈkäment) and share the collective answer to this tomorrow.

https://sive.rs/desperate

After 95 years, writers finally get the green light to lift(lift) from ‘The Great Gatsby’

Laws that prevent(prəˈvent) artists from borrowing from classic works, even decades after the original author’s death, chill(CHil) the broader culture.

By Alan Wirzbicki

Did Daisy(ˈdāzē) ever leave Tom? What happened to Nick after he retreated(rəˈtrēt) from New York? How did Jay Gatsby muscle(ˈməsəl) into the Roaring(ˈrôriNG) Twenties underworld to make his illicit(i(l)ˈlisit) fortune(ˈfôrCHən)? Was he — just maybe — a vampire(ˈvamˌpī(ə)r)?

At the stroke(strōk) of midnight on Jan. 1, writers and other artists got the green light to imagine their own answers to those questions, and to use the characters created by F. Scott Fitzgerald(fitsˈjer(ə)ld) in his 1925 novel(ˈnävəl) “The Great Gatsby” without asking for anyone’s permission(pərˈmiSHən). On cue(kyo͞o), an avalanche(ˈavəˌlan(t)SH) of Gatsby knockoffs, prequels(ˈprēkwəl), and yes, retellings with vampires hit the market, along with new editions of the original Jazz(jaz) Age novel itself.

But as welcome as the outpouring(ˈoutˌpôriNG) of pent(pent)-up creativity is, it’s also a reminder that the 95-year waiting period(ˈpirēəd) exacted a cost on American culture. Restrictive(rəˈstriktiv) US copyright laws locked “The Great Gatsby” out of the public domain for so long that the best moment for reworkings of the iconic(īˈkänik) novel may have already come and gone. Fitzgerald’s story is still a beloved classic, of course, and some of its themes — social and class divisions(dəˈviZHən), lost love — are timeless. But nearly a century after its publication, it’s also an artifact of a fading time that’s increasingly remote to the experiences of many readers, who may read it now as mostly a historical costume(ˈkäsˌt(y)o͞om) drama(ˈdrämə) of cloche(klōSH) hats and dapper(ˈdapər) tuxedos(təkˈsēdō).

…
https://www.bostonglobe.com/2021/02/04/opinion/after-95-years-writers-finally-get-green-light-lift-great-gatsby/

Savor(ˈsāvər) What You Dread(dred) & Avoid

By Leo Babauta

Today my sons & I were standing at the edge of the pool, on a cold day, knowing that the water we were about to jump into was freezing.

It was Day 27 of my first 40-day discomfort challenge … and we were dreading the cold water.

We knew it would be shockingly(ˈSHäkiNGlē) cold, because we’ve jumped into it for the past 26 days. We really didn’t want to do it, but we’re committed to this.

And then I invited myself to a mindset shift: can I bring curiosity to this moment?

This moment I have already judged as bad, this experience I’ve already put into a fixed box of “hell(hel) no” … could I instead let go of my fixed ideas, and just bring curiosity?

What is this moment like, when I’ve dropped my judgments, fixed views, preconceived(ˌprēkənˈsēvd) notions?

It becomes much more open. Much more filled with possibility.

From this place of possibility … I wondered if there was something to savor right now. Is there anything I can enjoy, appreciate, find sacred(ˈsākrəd) and beautiful?

I found a lot to savor: the chilly(ˈCHilē) air, the intensely(inˈtenslē) blue sky and low-lying soft clouds, the quiet neighborhood with planes flying overhead and birds calling out to us. I savored this moment of challenge with my sons, this day of being fully alive and able to do meaningful work with others, this day of having loved ones here and scattered(ˈskadərd) elsewhere who I care deeply about.

I found a lot to savor, and suddenly this become a moment of freedom and love. jumped in, and found the divine(dəˈvīn).

https://zenhabits.net/savory/

The pandemic gave me the time to finally clean out my shameful(ˈSHāmfəl) attic(ˈadik). Here’s what I learned.

By Jura Koncius

I was determined(dəˈtərmənd) not to be one of those people who didn’t accomplish anything during the pandemic.

So I got rid(rid) of 44 boxes of stuff. Like losing weight, it was hard work, but I did it slowly and mindfully. It feels really great to have that tower of boxes gone. And the process offered moments of pure joy and laughs during a really lousy(ˈlouzē) time.

I frequently write articles about decluttering(ˈdēklətər), Marie(mərē) Kondo, Swedish(ˈswēdiSH) death cleaning and professional organizers. A cheerleader(ˈCHirˌlēdər) for letting stuff go, I even started something called Declutter(ˈdēklətər) Sunday on Facebook, where friends posted an item they were jettisoning(ˈjedəsən). But my overstuffed attic has been my dirty little secret.

I am not a slob(släb). My little 1937 Colonial(kəˈlōnyəl) house is organized and neat(nēt). But the closets are small. Over the decades, masses of stuff came into the house, but very little left. Enter the attic, which became the dumping ground for all the excess(ikˈses).

Stuck at home in March like everyone else, I hatched(haCH) a plan. My husband, who is very sentimental(ˌsen(t)əˈmen(t)l) and fond of keeping things, agreed that we needed to take action. (He initially(iˈniSH(ə)lē) suggested renting a pod and getting movers to bring every single item down, so we could then go through it at our leisure(ˈlēZHər).) Each Saturday for 22 weeks, I went up to the attic, did a little organizing and ended up with two boxes or bags that we schlepped(SHlep) down to the guest room. We then had one week to either throw the items away or find them a new home. Nothing was to go back in the attic. Each member of the family was allotted(əˈlät) one large Rubbermaid(ˈrəbər mād) tub(təb) labeled “ARCHIVES,” where they could put anything they couldn’t part with. No judgment.

…
https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/home/pandemic-attic-decluttering-project/2021/01/19/f6d79232-4ea9-11eb-83e3-322644d82356_story.html