Perfection

Flow: Finding Creative Balance in a Socially Networked Environment

Flow is the term coined by Mihály Csíkszentmihály to describe "the mental state of operation in which a person in an activity is fully immersed in a feeling of energized focus, full involvement, and success in the process of the activity". Today's post is based on yesterday's tweets tagged with the #flow hashtag.

Most of our emotional pain comes from clinging to the past, fighting with the present or dreading the imagined future. It is born in the gap between what we believe should be true and what is. There's a world of difference between the thought "this sucks" and the idea "this SHOULD be different." Although flow is often thought of as requiring great expertise in the associated activity, it's usually the frustration with one's less-than-stellar skill that blocks flow, rather than any actual deficit. That said...

After enough practice, tools disappear. Then the artist disappears. And then finally all that's left is the emergence of art.  Someday I would love to have the time to master the full scope of the tools I use to create images, music and video. But until then, I've found that making full use of what I currently know is usually enough to channel the muse's voice and vision into shareable reality.

It's often better to surf across the waves than to swim against the tide. For those with an artistic passion, all experience can be used as grist for the mill. I've found that when I let go of how I think something should be, work emerges that is as good or better than what I originally envisioned.

The SocialNet can sabotage the intrinsic Joy-of-Being when we trade fully enaged activity for reporting opportunities. This can be a really grey area for net-centric creatives. The relationship between artist and audience is much more pervasive, real-time and personal in a socially networked environment. The need to be seen can overshadow and subvert the flow of creative expression.

Smugness isn't a virtue. It only feels like joy because it numbs your hungry heart for a moment. What is the relationship between page views, followers, retweets and happiness?  Doesn't it seem silly to use such metrics to quantify self-worth or the validity of one's work?

I nominate the fear of boredom as the eighth deadly sin. A lot of the compulsive behavior associated with social networking and media consumption stems from the fear of boredom. Boredom is the gatekeeper of creativity. Don't let it turn you away.



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Being: Chapter One of an Experimental Approach to Blogging

Here's my first go at a new approach to blogging. This post originated in a series of tweets yesterday on the topic of #being. I've made a few edits of my original tweets and added some additional content to flesh out the ideas:

Embrace the past. If it feels alive then slay it because it should be dead. You have a zombie, vampire or ghost in your arms.  The chief gift of my virtual birth two years ago was the imagined release of the past. Assuming nothing and questioning everything, I found my superpower.

What's your superpower? Mine is a sense of wonder. Unfortunately, the purity of my birth has slowly become encrusted with fixed conceptions I've gathered along the way. For me, ideology is kryptonite.

Your strongest opinions are your worst enemies.  It's easy to see how other people's perception of "reality" is warped by their belief systems. Guess what? The same is true for you. And me.

You are only present within the awareness of each moment. Finding youself is mostly a matter of paying attention. Although I've written a great deal about identity here, all of the intellectual musing in the world will not match the insight derived from relaxed self-awareness.

The Dichotomy of Digital Existence: No decay. No fixed form. If one has the eyes to see, the virtual world is the Heart Sutra brought to life.

Creating. Consuming. Creating. Consuming. Creating. Consuming. Creating. Consuming. Creating. Consuming. Creating. My typical day is breathing out and then in. It's the space between breaths that I have been missing.

The suspension of disbelief is more pervasive in mundane existance than it is in virtual life. It is just less conscious. Pay attention to the thoughts that spring up in reaction to the next five people you see. How many of them are true?

Life is lived through a series of boxes that shape, constrain, protect, imprison, support, limit and define identity. What's inside when all of the boxes are gone?

Inspiration never abandons me. It is I who turns from her warm living embrace to the cold dead arms of my own judgement. My chief place of worship is the blank page.

Most externally directed judgement is merely a way to avoid facing and dealing with our own shit. Damn! One of the most difficult yet useful spritual exercises is turning one's pointing finger back at oneself.

Wondering whether one of my multi-tasking activities can be meditation. This is a joke. I think.






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