This episode is a lot of fun: we talk about the heavy metal music we grew up with, the huge impact of the "Walk This Way" collaboration between Run-DMC and Aerosmith, the sacraments, and then we imagine Thomas Merton and Elvis on a road trip. Also: I get confused on Tyler Perry (television and movie auteur), Steve Perry (Journey), Perry Como (jazz singer) and Steven Tyler (Aerosmith).
To-Do Lists and Committing
The whole idea of to-do lists is interesting, especially if we think of them as our external brain. The advantages of a to-do list (written or electronic) are obvious: we can off-load moments and ideas to a later time, when they are more needed. I won’t remember what to pack for the camping trip, except for when I’m at the campsite thinking about all the things I forgot. We are able to use our brains for better things than remembering minutiae, since the minutiae are safely written down somewhere.
But when we write down lists or to-do items, they also introduce a certain complexity. Now we can list things endlessly, and we have to try and find the right list. Our memories weaken, and we are helpless without our smartphones or a writing pen. Now there are problems with archiving, preserving, and saving the lists so that they can be accessed, just in case. Search and recover becomes a bit of an art form – if you are fiddly with technology, like me, one question is where it got stored.
The other interesting bit about to-do lists is that they invite us to deceive ourselves. Our lists end up being more aspirational than realistic. For a Buddhist, it points to the human ability to perceive the world as we wish it to be instead of how it actually is. For a Christian, it points to the mystery of human sin that hides and distorts our egos. Our lists become more of who we want to be than who we really are. For example, I’ve got a someday list in OmniFocus of things I hope to do at some point, but most of them really aren’t realistic. But I can’t just abandon the aspirations completely, as a bit of hopefulness is important in a to-do list – these are, after all, goals and things I’m striving towards. To strive is to be human, so we attempt realistic things even though we may fail (and sometimes we do succeed – “climbing the second stair,” as T.S. Eliot put it). Otherwise, why get out of bed in the morning?
With to-do list items, too many means I often ignore the list; I glance over it, but fail to commit to anything really. So there is a trick of having a practical, manageable list for any given day. Don’t overwhelm or underwhelm.
There is also the importance of being realistic with our items on the list. Am I really going to do this? With the infinity that is online text storage, it’s tempting to just type away, until the list becomes unmanageable. Any storage system that is unmanageable is pretty much worthless. So I really do try to commit to things I write down, and write down things that I commit to (as Jesus said, let your yes be a yes and your no be a no). Each one is a realistic contract. And if I’m not going to do it, then I don’t write it down.
In the end, a to-do list needs to be an exercise in honesty.
Theology Cast Podcast Episode 112: Being Homeowners, Paying for your Own Stuff, and the Gift of Calvinism
Theology Cast 111: Deadpool, the Publishing World, and Writing a Book
We've got some great material here, especially as we talk about publishers and publishing, and how academics often get the process of publishing wrong. Give it a listen, and reach out to us on twitter (@theologycast) or facebook. We also love iTunes reviews!
Methodism, Aging, & Self-Help Books
I've been strangely into self-help books for the past years. I don't know if it's my Methodist upbringing (a need for personal holiness and improvement, "going on to perfection" as John Wesley phrased it) or aging, but I've been oddly interested in the self-improvement field with its promises of better health and better living.
So I've read about better productivity with David Allen's Getting Things Done, and finding peace by discarding many possessions in Marie Kondo's Tidying Up. I read the health warnings of processed foods, carbs, and sugars, in David Ludwig's Always Hungry. I read about financial security (and how a house is not an asset) in Robert Kiyosaki's Rich Dad, Poor Dad, and better patterns of work in Cal Newport's Deep Work. This pondering about habits and assumptions has been oddly fun. I haven't fully adopted any of their suggestions, but I have changed many of my patterns. For those interested in efficiency, as Wesley was, it's a rewarding process.
There are odd dangers in self-improvement books, such as when we become oddly obsessed with a certain methodology, as when people become unhealthily focused on health, or so miserly towards greater wealth that they can't enjoy what they have. There are terrible fads here, and I can name all the concerns that have shaped our culture: vitamin D, BPA, and diaper genies come to mind.
One would think that aging would move us towards greater wisdom. As we see that things come and go – the fads that dominate everything from health to academics, and the history that repeats itself – it makes sense that we would grow in maturity as we face stress, eating, money, and so on. But the opposite is true. Aging leads to greater clinging, as we amass boxes of photographs, memories, body weight, and habits. It's with age that reading and considering our personal patterns becomes even more important.
Moby Dick
A great reading of a fantastic book, with an all-star cast. A failure in its initial publications, it's become one of the most important novels in recent centuries, and certainly a landmark in American literature. It's a book that sucks you into another world, and stays with you. Enjoy.
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