askme, again

part of an ask metafilter question

How can I force myself to love something I naturally do not?

I realize "learn" is a probably a better word than "force".


PROBLEM
There are many things in life I wish I could enjoy -- (certain) people, sports, dancing, university classes, foods, etc, but for whatever reason, I do not. I love computer programming, my friend loves working out. And there's no middle ground between these two...

my reply

I notice three things about your examples.
- community
- immersion
- time limited

((#3 might be less of an issue with the Polynesian diet, but unless you thought you might live there forever, it still counts as a contributing factor.))

Community - you want to connect with people. The want for that is bigger than your dislike for X, so you ignore the dislike and focus on how it will bring you closer to others. Find how to see your other activities through this lens, and pay attention to it. This may be a specific group of people, like a writers' group, or it may be an abstract one that you're just trying to share headspace with.

Immersion - similar to community, you couldn't get away from the food in the South Pacific or screens playing soccer in the world cup. You had to adapt or be miserable. Find ways to fake the immersion.

Time Limited - This, I think, is key. Living in the South Pacific had an end. Enduring World Cup frenzy had an end. In contrast, The Seinfeld Method has no end. The things you want to learn have no "end". This brings all kinds of psychological trickery into play. There's greater risk because, if you fail, you have to start all over, and you're not willing to give up. Because there's no deadline, you think "sooner I start, the better", but also "what does it matter if I put it off?"

My suggestion: Give yourself permission to not pursue something you're interested in. Spend a limited period of time "forcing" yourself to enjoy/appreciate something you want to like. If by the end of that time period, say, 90 days, you don't enjoy the person/activity, spend the next 180 days accepting that you don't enjoy it. Then try again... or not!

One final thing to try: find articulate people who like the thing you're trying to love, and talk with them about their passion for the subject. I find enthusiasm incredibly contagious, and it's normally fun to catch.

Zero. Or, Blog Is For Emo

I've been awake for 11 hours and have done a grand total of... take a shower (and internet/video games). Maybe I've been awake for 10; i don't remember if I started killing goblins the first time I checked the time or the second.

Naturally, I feel incredibly guilty about it.

Still feeling crushed by a massive sleep-debt, too, but laying around doesn't seem to be helping. And my site/domain is having issues, which is stressing me out.

I felt inspired for a short while, but then got out of the shower and failed to act on any of it. Boo, me.

I'm exhausted and feel like crap. Should probably take myself for a walk.

Where's the snooze button?

I've had a good, long day, but it's only 5:45 and I'm already too tired to enjoy it.

Walking, writing at starbucks, more walking, lunch at 5 guys, then two hours in Alexandria.

Touring the Torpedo Factory with Mom and Reagan was my best trip through the building so far. I saw the art more thoroughly than ever before, and took more inspiration from it.

All I really want right now is beer a new sketchbook to draw in. Sure, I have lots of paper, much of it blank, some of it bound into book form, but there's something extra comforting about the familiar size, familiar format, etc. The thought of sketching in my hardcover, non-spiral black sketchbook just doesn't excite me.

Actually, I want a nap, and considering the fact that I go to bed late and wake up early (whether I have a reason to or not), maybe a nap isn't a bad idea...

AskMe Three

Excerpts from a discussion on one of my favorite sites.

Original question/post

For various reasons, I've been spending an increasing amount of time online (just regular day-to-day stuff: forums, Wikipedia, shopping, weather, news, but quite a bit of it) over the past 5 years or so, and I'm pretty sure it's had a deleterious effect on my attention span, willpower and ability to concentrate. I'm ADHD to begin with, so I'm sure that hasn't helped, but I used to be able to hyperfocus on books, math problems, etc., in a way that's just not possible now. Right now, I feel like I can barely follow a conversation, and it sucks.

I'd like to try seeing if less internet would help me get my mind back, and I was wondering, first: does anyone have any experience with any aspect of this that'd suggest the process is reversible-- that the brain can return to its previous baseline even following cognitive changes due to overstimulation? (Inspiring success stories would be great, if there are any out there!)

And second, any ideas on how I can approach the problem of how to structure this internet fast? Should I be aiming for total abstinence, or a one-week cleanse followed by gradual reintroduction, or just avoiding the linkiest sites, alternating days online and off, or what? Obviously, I'd like to continue using as much internet as is consistent with keeping my focus intact; but how can I estimate just how much that is?

part of a comment I flagged as awesome

When my Internet odyssey began in 1994, I immediately sensed this was not another office Christmas party. People were engaged. They were talking with each other about anything, and everything; and they were unshackled. Free from the bondage of tradition. Except for the old-world corporate culture trying to reinvent television, they still are. The Internet isn't about power and control. It's about life. Ours.

Ebullient, spiritual, emancipated, cold, hard, plugged-in life. As one of the author's of the aforementioned book, David Weinberger, says, "We're having a party and the news reports are missing it entirely — like covering the Mardi Gras by reporting on the gross profits of local liquor stores." Millions of forums, billions of World Wide Web sites, billions of human beings being humans.

What is it that makes the Internet so compelling to so many? Aside from the obvious fun and entertainment, educational and business opportunities, and show-offism; I think it boils down to a slogan taken from the eighties. No fear! The playing field is level. Size doesn't matter, really. Inhibitions and reservations are out the window.

Internet life is people with diseases and addictions, exposing souls and sharing their recoveries. It's about overviews of history warning future generations not to repeat the mistakes of their predecessors. Sure there are a few kooks to throw us off guard, but mostly the Net is just us being ourselves without fear of reprisal. How refreshing.

The Internet is people talking and sharing ideas. Our best and brightest, wallflowers and flower children, the girl next door and the Doc who delivered your kids. It's about you and me. We are all using our own cognizant voices, and we're listening too. We're challenging the status quo, and we're offering alternatives. Collaboration on a global scale all tied together by that simplest of cyber friendships, the hyperlink. Communication has never seen anything like it.

my comment

I'm in your shoes, and have had no success with the thing I'm about to suggest, but want to try it myself.

At this moment, I have my laptop open in front of my desktop. Both are focused on Firefox. The desktop has 31 tabs open. The laptop has 48+14 tabs open (two windows). After I finish this comment, I am going to "deal with"/close all the tabs, and arbitrarily limit myself to 3 tabs on each computer.

Tabs are not conducive to follow-through. Even as I'm in the process of writing this, I switch over and browse LJ (even though there's nothing new), I check on facebook, I skim six or seven open tabs without actually *doing* anything. Not bookmarking/tagging, not absorbing the content, just... looking at it. If I added up all the time I spent just... looking... at stuff on the internet, hopping from one thing to another with no clear goal, it might add up to hours a day. And staying on the surface level like that, it gives my brain a lot of chances to fret over stupid little things, which would vanish from my mental periphery if I applied myself to any focus at all.

So I'm going to make a giant effort to do fewer things on the internet at one time. With only three tabs, I think I'll either reach a stalemate faster (and go do something like read/write/etc), or I'll internet in productive, focused ways.

Built up, broke down

I have this mental image in my mind that blog posts have to be visual, of a certain length, maintain a certain level of intersetingness, be intrinsically cohesive, include lots of links, and hit the other top 10 blogging points that the successful ones outline.

Eff that.

I've posted for years without caring too much about hitting those marks, or having superfantastic readership. Why can't I resume the bloggityness and take up that easy-going manner again?

BY THE WAY, besides doing more writing lately, I'm also doing more editing-type-stuff, so the contrarian in me does a dance of glee at every word in this post my spell-checker doesn't recognize.

Today I'm super exhausted from very little sleep last night, then spending all day riding trains and walking around DC with Reagan and my mom (who is visiting for 3 days). I use the term "all day" loosely; we might not have gotten on our first train until after 11 (which, in my family, is a late start).

We hit up the Freer Gallery where I indulged my love of Whistler paintings (including discovering the downstairs collection!), had lunch at the Austin Grill (I ordered a salad, then mostly ate the meat that came on it. Delicious, delicious meat), walked back to explore the Hirshhorn, and finally had high tea in Arlington, where "high tea" was defined as beer and splitting a burger three ways. Mom had cranberry juice, not beer.

A Wednesday without a pint at RiRa just isn't a real Wednesday. :)

As obnoxious as most of the Color exhibit is to me, it inspired some of the highlights of the day: Reagan taking photos of me in the room of flickering lights and sound, and sitting in the low light room with my mom, observing the artwork and talking about William Herschel. Mom's reading a book about him, so she had tidbits about how he would observe the stars through his telescope for hours on end, shouting dictations to his sister.

I wish I could paint another highlight of the day from outside myself. I felt such a surge of joy in discovering the secondary collection of Whistler's Nocturnes, that I skipped down the hallway to look at the a Nocturne set at Cremorne Gardens.

A lot of the way I live is restrained and calculated. Even though I feel real happiness and express it, I don't think I often exhibit delight in a natural, uninhibited way. I also get caught up in my head, questioning what I like, or what I say I relate to/identify with.

Do I *really* like Whistler, or is it just lip service? Or a facade that I put up because I think I should be someone who likes his work, or want to be someone who does?

Ah, bloggity-blog. You double edged sword.

This is not a post of completed ideas, but i am rip-roarin' exhausted and need to go lie down and read some comfort food (Emerald Storm!). But if I don't post it now, it will sit in drafts FOREVAR.