Yesterday, I settled down to do some work in the evening. I was hydrated, “NEPA” had just brought the power back, my scalp was oiled and my mind felt really clear — everything was seemingly in place for what I anticipated would be a very productive session. It did not turn out that way, though, and when I resigned to my bed later, I kept thinking about why I was unable to tick off every item on my to-do list this time.
Let me start by saying that I still cannot describe yesterday’s session as completely unproductive. Reflectively, I got a lot done, and I made so much progress on the project that I had decided to work on. My main qualm, however, was that it felt like I made that leeway in the wrong direction. When I started working I had this brief random idea about building a web app that I wanted to do something really simple. I had built something very similar in the past, so I did not think it was going to take a lot of time: my head allotted 30-35 minutes to the task. I was wrong, though; the whole process ended up taking the full 4-hour block that I was meant to use for many other things. To be honest, I think that I was aware very early on in the build process that I had grossly miscalculated. The task demanded way more time than I had initially allotted, and at the back of my mind, I knew that finishing this task would mean blocking off other items on my to-do list that I had set out to accomplish.
Still, I could not pivot and start another activity. I have had a long think about why, and I believe that it is because my initial attempts to stop were rebuffed by the fact that some groundwork had already been done in the project’s direction. I was uncomfortable with abandoning something (even temporarily) that I had put some effort into creating. Essentially my head would go, “You’ve already put in X hours, it would be sad to stop now :(,” and that would be enough to keep me going. The funny thing about this rationale is that it got stronger every time I used it because the hours — or whatever metric one may use — kept increasing with each use.
I suppose what I have just described is a very common pattern. It definitely is much harder to let go of something when one has toiled in that direction. Humans are generally averse to waste, and when one starts trodding along a certain path, there is this natural inclination to continue so the former steps are not in vain — even if the better option is to cut the losses. What is so interesting is that this behaviour is mirrored in relationships, enterprises, projects, and just about anything, really. Each context is different, of course, and although I would be silly to suggest that one must abandon something at the first sign of difficulty, I feel like a big part of why we do this is because we forget that we can, indeed, start again.
I (and so many other people on the internet) have spilled much digital ink about how cool Bon Iver is. If you read the title before clicking on this, then you’ve probably correctly deduced that I intend to spill a little bit more today. I have gone with “Regarding Stacks” as the title because I find the second line (everything that happens is from now on) to be an ode to how I want to approach a lot of things now. One of the most interesting things I find about humans is their ability to wake up and believe anything. There will always be limits to agency, but I find that it’s very easy to forget that I can start again with a completely different paradigm. I can hold my hands up tomorrow and express former fallibility; To a large extent, I can take a step back and re-evaluate my shortcomings. I can take a deep break and declare that everything that happens is from now on.
For me, Re: Stacks will always be about hope. It is the final track on a very melancholic project, but the bright acoustics that Vernon strings together across the songs 6 minutes and 41 seconds gives roundedness to the album’s listening experience. It is like finally seeing light at the end of a rather dark tunnel, or feeling the sun on your face after a very long and uncomfortable night. It reminds me about the ever-present opportunity to restart and re-route whenever I to realisation that I might have taken the wrong steps up until that point. It is the counter against my natural heuristic that tells me I can never start afresh once I have put the groundwork in a certain direction.
(On a completely random note, I have been finding covers of the song across the past few days and I want to rank them below here. The listing will probably change over time because my likability for some sounds morphs over time, but here is how it looks as of 4/12/2023)
Yesterday, I settled down to do some work in the evening. I was hydrated, “NEPA” had just brought the power back, my scalp was oiled and my mind felt really clear — everything was seemingly in place for what I anticipated would be a very productive session. It did not turn out that way, though, and when I resigned to my bed later, I kept thinking about why I was unable to tick off every item on my to-do list this time.
Let me start by saying that I still cannot describe yesterday’s session as completely unproductive. Reflectively, I got a lot done, and I made so much progress on the project that I had decided to work on. My main qualm, however, was that it felt like I made that leeway in the wrong direction. When I started working I had this brief random idea about building a web app that I wanted to do something really simple. I had built something very similar in the past, so I did not think it was going to take a lot of time: my head allotted 30-35 minutes to the task. I was wrong, though; the whole process ended up taking the full 4-hour block that I was meant to use for many other things. To be honest, I think that I was aware very early on in the build process that I had grossly miscalculated. The task demanded way more time than I had initially allotted, and at the back of my mind, I knew that finishing this task would mean blocking off other items on my to-do list that I had set out to accomplish.
Still, I could not pivot and start another activity. I have had a long think about why, and I believe that it is because my initial attempts to stop were rebuffed by the fact that some groundwork had already been done in the project’s direction. I was uncomfortable with abandoning something (even temporarily) that I had put some effort into creating. Essentially my head would go, “You’ve already put in X hours, it would be sad to stop now :(,” and that would be enough to keep me going. The funny thing about this rationale is that it got stronger every time I used it because the hours — or whatever metric one may use — kept increasing with each use.
I suppose what I have just described is a very common pattern. It definitely is much harder to let go of something when one has toiled in that direction. Humans are generally averse to waste, and when one starts trodding along a certain path, there is this natural inclination to continue so the former steps are not in vain — even if the better option is to cut the losses. What is so interesting is that this behaviour is mirrored in relationships, enterprises, projects, and just about anything, really. Each context is different, of course, and although I would be silly to suggest that one must abandon something at the first sign of difficulty, I feel like a big part of why we do this is because we forget that we can, indeed, start again.
I (and so many other people on the internet) have spilled much digital ink about how cool Bon Iver is. If you read the title before clicking on this, then you’ve probably correctly deduced that I intend to spill a little bit more today. I have gone with “Regarding Stacks” as the title because I find the second line (everything that happens is from now on) to be an ode to how I want to approach a lot of things now. One of the most interesting things I find about humans is their ability to wake up and believe anything. There will always be limits to agency, but I find that it’s very easy to forget that I can start again with a completely different paradigm. I can hold my hands up tomorrow and express former fallibility; To a large extent, I can take a step back and re-evaluate my shortcomings. I can take a deep break and declare that everything that happens is from now on.
For me, Re: Stacks will always be about hope. It is the final track on a very melancholic project, but the bright acoustics that Vernon strings together across the songs 6 minutes and 41 seconds gives roundedness to the album’s listening experience. It is like finally seeing light at the end of a rather dark tunnel, or feeling the sun on your face after a very long and uncomfortable night. It reminds me about the ever-present opportunity to restart and re-route whenever I to realisation that I might have taken the wrong steps up until that point. It is the counter against my natural heuristic that tells me I can never start afresh once I have put the groundwork in a certain direction.
(On a completely random note, I have been finding covers of the song across the past few days and I want to rank them below here. The listing will probably change over time because my likability for some sounds morphs over time, but here is how it looks as of 4/12/2023)
Favourite Re: Stacks Covers :)