Subtraction.

"I'm trying hard not to try so hard," says a song that I really like.

A paradoxical idea that leaves a humming in my chest. It strikes me in a way that makes me uncomfortable.

Effort is a problem. For me, in particular. For modernity, in general. I want to be more relaxed. Even in this moment I am trying to let this writing come naturally to me. But it won't.

I'm working very hard at writing this. I don't know why.

I've stopped trying so hard these days. For a few years I was pushing myself way too hard. I was grinding away, thinking I was going to do something. Now I don't know what I'm going to do.

But is it really possible to put effort into not being so effortful? Is this something that can be done? Or is this looking to the poison for a cure? Can one think oneself out of thinking too much? Or is one just falling back into the same error?

A + B = C.

Problem + Proper Action = Solution.

Anxiety + Effort = No Anxiety.

But what if not?

What if the heart doesn't work like an equation? (duh.)

What if the problem is simply removed? Simply overcome?

What if the equation is wiped clean?

What if I just don't have a problem?

This is an idea that I am incapable of expressing clearly.

Nassim Taleb is offering me some help on this idea. I'm reading his chapter on subtraction, Via Negativa.

He claims that his main epistemological tenant is this: "we know a lot more what is wrong than what is right, or, phrased according to the fragile/robust classification, negative knowledge (what is wrong, what does not work) is more robust to error than positive knowledge (what is right, what works). So knowledge grows by subtraction much more than by addition..." (Antifragile, 303).

Taleb at one point mentions Lao Tzu and the concept of wu-wei, 'passive achievement', or 'non-action'.

"Make haste slowly."

All of this rhymes with some of the other thoughts that I am working towards. The essay I've been waiting to write is one on the way the understanding ought to trump planning or prediction. I'm trying to learn to not try so hard. I'm trying to free myself from willful willing. Taleb is a powerful ally in this quest. He advocates a non-predictive view of the world.

Something very foreign to the modern world.

For him, this is something that is mostly subtractive. It is about removing things from our thinking and our living. Not adding.

So where to place our effort? What to do...

Do I try hard to not try so hard?

Or is there just a way to not try so hard?

Or Not.

I can't be so sure about this stuff.

I want to write an essay. My mind is beckoning me. I feel this desire to sit down and write an essay. Get all analytical and stuff just for the fun of it.

I got a bit of comfort from Taleb last night. In Antifragile he claimed that it was important to follow your own inclinations with your reading. That if you are bored with one book, go on to another book. Never spend time with a book that bores you. Don't trust the directed reading that the academies advocate.

I have directed all my own reading for the last few years. I've really enjoyed it. I've gone all over the place. But have often felt a sort of direction guiding me.

I want to write about planning, understanding, and antifragility.

A while ago I had an idea for an essay. It was in October.

A simple claim. Planning comes from understanding, not the other way around.

I should start outlining it.

Retiring. Maybe.

I've been contemplating retiring this blog.

It has been a great outlet for me. It was in March of 2009 that I first began blogging. The point has never been for other people to read it. Which doesn't really make sense, seeing as how I'm putting it on the internet.

Why not just write into word documents that I don't share with others?

The possibility that others might read is exciting enough, though pursuing actual readership has never been a priority.

Amazing. I wrote so many essays for so long, and have taken such a hiatus from that kind of thinking and writing.

Yet whenever someone talks to me about philosophy I just light up, I have so much energy, so many things to say.

I still think I need to pursue some kind of intellectual life, but I don't know how.

I'm rethinking my professional life. Trying to put myself in some different directions. But don't know where or why, really.

I want to get into some intense intellectual thinking and writing, but don't know how to right now.

I've recently fallen out of the habit.

Though I know I'd still love to write an essay on the philosophy of history and cultivating judgement.

Perhaps once I finish Antifragile. Which is a great book, by the way.

...

In the dark, moved
By a fragile force,
I witnessed my body
Give in to violent

Thrashing and tossing.
Wood, cloth, space,
pain, all persisting
Under the weight of this

Patient sitting.

The Things I Say. What I Am.

"Amy, time-stilled and nameless, wandering the forgotten, lightless world forever, alone and voiceless, but for this: What I am, What I am, What I am."

What I am. What I am. What I am. What I am.

Not words that flow easily from me.

The more I move forward the more I realize how passionate I am.

The more I move the more I see how undirected my passion is.

I have gone through so many obsessive phases in my life. So many different things have occupied my intensity. But nothing has ever sustained it. I wander on.

I wander on.

.

A clogging.
A throbbing.
A desperate appeal.

A silence.
A yearning.
A truth to reveal.

A spine.
A bridge.
A boundless ravine.

Our Hearts.
Our Minds.
Do you know what I mean?

Forget.

Oh, Inglorious Quest,
Tell me what I know,
Confirm my intimation,
I'm no different from the rest.

Oh, Sweet Time,
Take me in larger circles,
Spare me my reasons,
Lift this need to rhyme.

Oh, Gentle Mind,
Let the truth be felt,
Embrace the cutting edge,
Learn to leave it behind.

Oh, Heart of Hearts,
Forget.