Welcome to Fame Quest

I found researching and writing for this Caesura Letters mini-series particularly compelling and introspective…

For the following two weeks (September 29-October 10, 2014), the Caesura Letters invites you to join an exploration deep into one of the most intricate aspects of our humanity — our impulse to be known and recognized by others. From Achilles’ heroism to our Twitter feeds, we will unpack various (and conflicting) perspectives on honour, fame, influence, and renown. It is a theme that bears itself out equally in our own innermost ambitions as in the collective landscape of our sociology. Welcome to Fame Quest. Subscribe now and join us.

Hereby humbling accepting all the ironies of broadcasting an inquiry into the practice of self-promotion, I do hope that you will subscribe to the Caesura Letters (if you have not already done so) and join the quest.


Beyond Here – Author’s Notes

Caesura Letters Volume VIIIToday I am pleased to announce the release of Beyond Here — the eighth volume of the Caesura Letters, The Daily Devotional for the Curious and Contemplative. This is another quarterly compilation of thought experiments, propositions, and ideas, presented in hopes of inspiring new perspectives on life.

As with other volumes, this edition gathers three months of the Caesura Letters into thematic ‘bundles’, dancing between the arts, sciences, and humanities. This volume explores mindfulness and intentionality, bias and cognition, the meaning and value of work, the purpose of leisure, the value of literature, perspectives on leadership, life in the city, and self-cultivation.

Ebook (ePub, Kindle, PDF) Paperback


Perspectives on Depression and Mental Health

This coming week, I am publishing a series about mental health in the Caesura LettersThe Daily Devotional for the Curious and Contemplative. Here’s a snippet from the update on the Caesura Letters newsfeed:

As always, we’re looking for perspective in life, and few issues are throttled with more controversy and conflicting perspectives than the issue of mental health. At the same time, few issues are more central to the lived experience of daily life. Starting Monday, start each day this week with a contemplative reflection inspired a timeless question… what is a healthy mind? Subscribe now and join us.


Adaptive You

As a spin class instructor, I have conversations about fitness many times a week. I’ve noticed that we tend to describe fitness as a state or as an end goal — “I’m getting fit,” “That person is really fit,” or “I’m really out of shape.”

I wonder if our language and terminologies about “fitness” are unwittingly bewitching us? Objectively speaking, it is far more accurate to describe “fitness” as a spectrum or a continuum, rather than a state of being. No matter how “fit” you are, you could always technically be “fitter”. (And what does complete “unfitness” mean, exactly?) In other words, you can never really “get fit” in a literal sense — that is, you never cross a magical threshold and get a certificate of achievement that says, “Congratulations! You are now Officially Fit!”

I think the concept of adaptiveness makes a little more sense. Like all living creatures, the human body is a continually adapting organism: If you sit on the couch all day eating potato chips and Smarties, your body will adapt to these demands. If you run 5km every morning, your body will adapt to this demand instead.

Your body adapts to whatever you do in order to be fit for that purpose. The composition of your body is a case study in adaptation: it is remarkably well acclimated to whatever you do on a regular basis. At the cellular level, these adaptations are not necessarily positive or negative, your body has simply adapted to the demands placed on it. These might be demands to store excess caloric energy or demands to increase cardiovascular capacity and muscular strength.

Little by little, day by day, you are constantly undergoing this lifelong process. Your body is continually conforming itself to the world you inhabit, the activities you perform, and the diet you consume. Indeed, it is the essence of life itself to revise, modify, and conform to its particular situation. Adaptiveness is what it means to be alive. The big question is: what are you adapting to? One thing is for sure: you are adapting to something.

When people say they want to “get fit”, what they mean is that they want to adapt their bodies to a different environment or set of demands. But from this perspective, you can’t “get fit” in order to change the way you live — you have to change the way you live if you are adapt to something else. The psychological dimension between the brain and the body is a huge factor here: add an extra twenty pounds and your body reacts by infusing you with a lethargic attitude that prompts you to wallow in Candyland. But get accustomed to an exercise-induced endorphin rush and you’ll feel miserable if you don’t get your daily dose! You can never eliminate the reciprocal patterns of thinking that influence your behaviour — but you can significantly influence them. More precisely: you can only shape who you are by shaping the variables that you must adapt to. Therefore, “getting fit” is simply forcing your body to create new feedback loops of adaptation.

Therefore, I think adaptation might be a more holistic framework for thinking about health than chasing the idea of fitness. For instance, before every meal you might ask yourself, “Do I want a body that acclimatizes itself in order handle this kind of caloric load?” You might also ask yourself, “What kind of activities do I want a body adapted for?” As a human, you are in the unique position to take responsibility for the adaptive nature of your own body. As we said, it is not a question of if you will adapt, but rather a question of what you will be adapted for. It is a decision that you make over and over again, all day long.

I don’t really think of myself (or anyone else) as “fit” or “unfit” anymore. The label doesn’t seem that helpful. Or at least it seems very arbitrary. Instead, I think of us all as well-adapted to the lives we are living.

So the question is, what are you choosing to adapt to?


The Merits of Red Tape

My city is gearing up for municipal elections in October. Several campaigns are already well underway. Many lawn signs are already staked in the ground.

The slogan for one would-be mayor’s campaign is, “Opportunity for all…Not red tape!” The sentiment aims at one of the biggest frustrations many of us have with bureaucratic institutions: the myriad of procedural bottlenecks that seem to hamper forward thinking and efficiency.

But I, for one, am a reluctant supporter of red tape. It is a necessary, self-regulating ingredient in democracy. Imagine the consequences if it was all eliminated: official plans, zoning regulations, public participation procedures, etc. — gone! Now what?

Let’s suppose that I, as a cyclist, got myself elected and convinced my fellow counsellors that the city needed more bicycle lanes. In fact, let’s put bike lanes on every street! Of course, there are a mountain of legislative and fiscal obstacles to this stunt, but in our imaginary world, the red tape doesn’t exist. So we plough ahead with our agenda.

Great, right? If there was no red tape at all, we could actually get stuff done!

But in our excitement, we overlook a confounding reality: If our elected council has it in their power to arbitrarily redesign the function every street in the city at their whim, the next council has equal capacity to undo everything that was done. Sure, we can put all the bicycle lanes in, but in four years, all the bicycle lanes can just as easily be removed.

Clearly, this chaos is neither efficient nor productive. The fact that higher levels of government require municipalities to adhere to specific, longterm, legally binding plans creates a maze of hoops and “obstacles” that hinder the willy-nilly, so-called “freedom” of haphazardly building at will. For me, I’d rather have red tape than not have it, as tiresome, frustrating, and impeding as it is. Make no mistake: red tape isn’t fun — but that doesn’t mean it isn’t important. People say red tape is inefficient, but it seems far more inefficient in the long run to just whimsically do whatever feels best in the moment.

When a political hopeful comes along promising the end of bureaucratic inefficiency and the elimination of growth bottlenecks, I find it somewhat amusing. First, they apparently seem to have little understanding of the Leviathan that is modern democratic legislation (which many a confident candidate hath already sworn to overthrow in the past). And secondly, more importantly, they don’t seem to respect the idea that red tape might actually have a purpose that ultimately serves the greater, longterm good of a community. At very least, the notion that red tape exists for the benefit of the citizenry doesn’t appear to register on their radar of political ideas.

Red tape is the saving grace of democracy: it’s the thread of continuity that allows us to survive the idiosyncratic folks we elect to govern us every four years. There’s nothing like a good, stinky pile of bureaucracy to help assure that the ridiculousness, radicalness, and craziness of the characters we elect is a bit more benign and manageable.

I think it’s time we take a second look at red tape, and critically examine the rhetoric of the politicians who try to convince us that it gets in the way of progress.


Journaling Feels Juvenile

Writing a journal feels juvenile. That is the beauty of it. Even as you write the words, you cringe in anticipation of how an older, wiser version of yourself will probably ridicule you later. You can almost hear the self-criticism, faintly echoing in from the future. That’s why the thoughts seem childish as soon as you transcribe them into alphabetic forms.

Maybe this is exactly why journaling is important. It is a glimpse (or whisper) of your future perspective penetrating the present. You see your thoughts not only as you feel right now, but also as you might recall them later. As soon as your emotions inhabit a written work, they begin to exist outside of you. This creates a perspective that is invaluable — even if it is transitory and intermediate — and is worth all the supposed inward shame that comes along with writing your innermost thoughts down in the present.