I'm feeling a little bit disappointed

Just a little bit disappointed. Unconscious racial bias isn’t awesome, and when expressed in violence should to be denounced and addressed with action.

Some might say (and I might agree) that systemic bias is equally as not-awesome, and when this bias expresses itself in gross (and growing) wealth inequality, it should be denounced and addressed with action.

Like a capital gains tax.

But apparently, the systemic bias benefits enough people with enough power that expressing displeasure is kept to a minimum, and action is entirely negated.

Joseph Stiglitz has written extensively on similar issues, so depending on your appetite for reading you can

Chequers is better than chess

Here’s some reasons why.

  • It’s shorter, but still strategic.

  • You can play with your 10 year old and usually win.

  • You don’t need a timer to prompt people to make a move.

  • You can play it with miscellaneous junk (bottle caps, stones etc).

Of course, the pieces are less pretty, and the moves are more boring.

Stories change things

Our brain (mind) can be thought of as having two parts.

1. A conscious part. This is the part that we experience and generally perceive as ‘us’.

2. An unconscious part. This is the part that we don’t usually directly experience, and often forget exists.

This first part, the conscious part, has language.

The second part, the unconscious part does not deal with language. This part deals with metaphor, imagery and story.

If you want to change your mind, you might need to tell it a new story.

Disruption vs Innovation

Disruption. Innovation.

Two words currently on the lips/pen/keyboard of every advertiser, marketer and business, from the incumbents to the newly-minted entrepreneurs alike.

Everyone is innovative.

Everyone wants to be disruptive. Usually using the latest innovation. Probably in technology.

But they’re quite different things. A recent talk I heard actually put them at opposite ends of a spectrum.

At one end, we have innovation. Incremental changes to the status quo. Small shifts in business as usual.

At the other end of the scale we have disruption. Rapid changes to the status quo. Entirely new businesses becoming normal.

Innovation is about doing the same things, better.

Disruption is about doing new things that make the old things obsolete.

While there have been many technological and design innovations in the property industry, there has been very little change in how the system works.

Today’s innovation is tomorrows status quo. But tomorrow’s disruption is the future.

Facilitate, participate, or get out of the way

The oft-quoted phrase in leadership literature, frequently attributed to General Patton goes like this

“Lead, follow, or get out of the way”

It’s a popular catch cry for leaders, especially type-A charismatic lead-from-the-front alpha-role type of leader. In those cases, it usually justifies a bulldozer-esque leadership move.

Now I have nothing against bulldozer moves, but this simplistic understanding misses a potential deeper meaning that applies to more than a dominant mode of leadership.

Here’s my version of the

Facilitate, participate, or get out of the way.

Let’s break this down.

Leadership is Facilitation

The best leadership, the kind that happens at critical moments, is fundamentally facilitative. At crunch time, we need something new. And newness requires creation, which means there is a creator. If the leader was the sole creator, surely we need to ask why it took so long for the creation to happen? Rather than a leadership triumph, the timely delivery of something the leader could have thought of by themselves is in actuality a betrayal of trust!

No, this isn’t the case.

What really happens in these acts of great leadership is that the leader guides the creation of something new that requires a contribution from the people they lead. They facilitate, rather than enact, the creation.

Following means Participation

This flows somewhat from the point above, but also applies in the day-to-day humdrum of business-as-usual in an organisation or community. For great leadership moments to occur, people must participate. It isn’t enough to just wait to be told to follow, we are all asked to pay attention, to contribute, to participate in the facilitated space so that great moments can occur.

Get out of the way

Maybe it is just me, but I struggle to change this one. If you’re not helping in some way to grow and move the organisation, don’t stand in the way when it moves.

Finally, this does apply to property

I take my figurative hat off to those who are facilitating change in the property system.

I applaud and encourage those who are jumping in to offer their voice, their time, their money, anything they have to the creation of something new.

For anyone who would like to change the current property system for the better: figure out what you can facilitate, where you can participate, and get stuck in.

For everyone else: acknowledge you’re in the way, and move.

Not enough is a killer

If you think that there isn’t enough to go around, that’s a scarcity mindset. It’s a close cousin of the zero sum game, and a one-up-one-down attitude.

Thinking that there isn’t enough, that “I have to protect my patch”, might seem rational, sensible even. But it can lead to some irrational and non-sensical, or at least unhelpful places.

Here’s a few I’d suggest:

  • Needing more, thinking that bigger is better, and generally feeling you never have enough.

  • Taking from others based on a judgement of what they do or don’t need.

  • Failing to extend trust to others because of fear they might take what is yours.

That a scarcity mindset becomes a trust-killer is of most concern. Trust is a fundamental fabric of our society, without it, we’re a bit lost.

So perhaps, this weekend, take some time to reflect on whether what you have is enough (or even too much), and how your view on it affects your ability to trust others.

Hospitality and stewardship starts at home

Hospitality is to people what stewardship is to the environment.

They’re both the basic attitude of care that provides a platform for healthy relationships and growth.

And our homes are the nexus, and genesis points for both hospitality and stewardship. They are the places we invite others into, and the piece of the land that we have sole responsibility to care for.

Tiny houses might be a great idea

Great ideas - as with great jokes, great books, and great speeches - are usually great because they point to a common element of humanity. It might be a common desire, or a common struggle. A common dysfunction, or a common experience.

Tiny houses may just be such and idea. If you spend any time listening to, watching, or reading the words of tiny house advocates, a few common threads seem to emerge.

  • A desire to connect with the environment.

  • An experience of joy in living with less.

  • A rejection of the status quo to follow a path of their own choosing.

  • An opportunity to craft something, to make something real with their own hands.

  • The enjoyment of time alone.

If some of these (or other ideas) are not just a description of tiny house fanatics, but rather elements of humanity that we all share, then the tiny house ethos might just be a great idea.

Clarifying the core commentary of tiny houses

In Digital Minimalism, Cal Newport goes to great lengths to ensure the reader understands that the movement is not anti-technology, but just critical of how it is used (and, helpfully, suggests alternative ways to use technology).

When feeling threatened by someone, or a new idea, of something that you see happening, or something you read, it’s worth taking a step back to identify exactly what it is that is being challenged.

In Cal’s case, he's affirming the tool (technology) but challenging how it is used. It is easy to understand that there will be better ways of using a given tool, or at least preferences in style. In this light, it is much easier to digest and get to grips with the views of Digital Minimalism.

Tiny houses could be seen in this light. Except that here, I think, the challenge is really.

Tiny houses are many things, and can represent many ideas. They can speak about environmentalism, or a connection with the land. They might focus on portability and mobility, or proximity to a people or place. They might be focusing on an urban lifestyle, or a rural.

But it would appear that all tiny houses directly comment on the amount of space most of us take up at home.

A 25 square meter home might represent a distant marker point, sure. But while tiny houses don’t pretend to be a practical or long-term accomodation option for everyone, they do seem to say that most of us (if not all of us) could live in less space.

An article on tiny houses was published in New Zealand Geographic in July 2018, and specifically takes aim at the size of our houses.

In 1974, the average house in New Zealand was 110 square metres. By 2010, that had bloated to 199 square metres, and house sizes have dropped only slightly since then.

Big houses need more resources and take longer to build. They cost more to heat, light and clean—and they’re not even what we really want.

“Economists would say people just like bigger homes, but that’s not consistent with the research I’ve done,” says sociologist Kay Saville-Smith from the Wellington-based Centre for Research, Evaluation and Social Assessment (CRESA). “We are producing houses which don’t fit our needs.”

So having clarified that the tiny house movement is many things, but consistently asking us to consider living in less space (and apparently, living better), what is our response?

A short note about delayed planes

My flight home today was delayed by three hours. While waiting to depart, two other flights home that were originally scheduled to leave after mine, departed. Then, having completed boarding and preparing to depart, we had to disembark and go back through the security scanner due to some muppet causing an issue at the security stand.

So I ended up:

  • Spending two hours reading a book.

  • Spending half an hour in conversation with a stranger.

  • Drinking a coffee and alternating between people watching and plane watching.

During the flight, I enjoyed:

  • Laughing and smiling with an elderly Croatian couple across the aisle.

  • Reading more of my book.

  • Drinking a delicious beverage.

Meanwhile, the airplane staff had a three hour extension to their work day, dealt with multiple plane loads of disgruntled customers, were on the receiving end of criticism for something they can’t affect, and had to stand up and smile essentially the entire time.

The least I could do was to return the favour and smile. And the most I could do was try to raise the spirits of others around me.

My delayed plane wasn’t really a problem.

Social medium

Social media and cellphones seems to be getting an increasingly bad rap, contributing to poor mental health and social skills, especially in our younger generation.

It might be fair enough.

It’s not that the technology is inherently bad, but rather that the behaviour exhibited as a result of the technology use isn’t great. And the worst part is that, apparently, the negative behaviours have been encouraged by the developers making money off our usage.

Outrage. Or not so much.

Here’s a simplistic approach, as a counterpoint to social media,

The true social medium, is face to face interaction.

It is being present, with someone. What could be more social than literally spending time in someone’s presence?

Finding the right place. Or, an existential approach to house hunting

House hunting appears to have a fairly typical process. Especially first house hunting.

  1. Decide you want to own a house.

  2. Figure out how much you can spend.

  3. Look at houses in the price range.

  4. Look at houses slightly above the price range.

  5. Decide you want a house slightly better than you can afford, so wait a while.

  6. Find a house you love. Put an offer in. Lose.

There are two options from here.

  1. Buy the next house you like. No matter what.

  2. Drill down and figure out the necessities, rank them, and buy the next house that fits well enough.

A few observations on what seems to be significant in this process:

  • The visual appearance of a house features strongly.

  • Our expectations are set by the price bracket.

A few more observations on what seems to be (generally) lacking:

  • Our knowledge of how we like to live in a house.

  • What we need to be happy.

  • The implications of price on our lifestyle. Or happiness. Or anything other than what we can get for the money we (don’t actually) have.

Here’s an alternative way to approach house hunting, draw from the highly unrelated (but potentially connected) field of comparative mythology:

Step 1: Consider who you are. What you need. What is important. How you live in a space. How you share the space. And how these things might change.

Step 2: Consider the opportunities in front of you. Where you can find employment and therefore can live. What your income is (or could be).

Step 3: Figure out the match between who you are, and what the opportunities are.

Perhaps, if we change our approach, we might end up in homes that fit our life, instead of just maximise our budget. We might find our fit, rather than fitting in. We might live our lives and be happy, rather than present smiling faces at dinner parties.

Spatial minimalism

I’ve started reading a book called Digital Minimalism. In the start, it says this:

Minimalism is the art of knowing how much is just enough.

Minimalism applied to housing could be called spatial minimalism.

Or more simply: the tiny house movement.

Of course, minimalism isn’t just practical. It isn’t only to do with physical things.

Practical minimalists also have a philosophy that drives how they interact with, and value, the physical things that are practically affected.

The same applies to housing. What is spatial minimalism: What is “just enough” house?

If you currently have a complete cross-fit gym setup at home , and your philosophy is that cross-fit is an essential part of your life, you’ll find that a tiny house is too small. It isn’t “just enough” space for you.

But if you dig down into what you value underneath the importance you place on cross-fit, you might find that you can meet these needs with less space, and potential greater happiness. For example, switching to running, or simply moving closer to a cross-fit gym might mean that a tiny house becomes “just enough” space.

The challenge isn’t live small. It isn’t having less. It’s finding out what is truly valuable. And once you’ve done that, getting rid of things, getting rid of space, doesn’t even feature.

Barriers to connection

Ever wondered what the barriers to relationship are in your neighbourhood?

It’s possible to get hyper-metaphysical and philosophical on this. And there’s value in that line of thought.

But perhaps more practically, have a look down you street.

Maybe some of the barriers aren’t in our heads. Maybe they’re literally six-foot-high fences.

Here’s to taking down barriers to connection, wherever you find them.

Year 2 (Round 2)

Day 1 of year 2 of this blog. Or as I prefer to think of it: “Round 2”.

Round 2, because writing a blog, like a boxing round, is a bit of a battle. The work happens day-to-day (i.e. blow-to-blow, to continue the metaphor) and then you find yourself at the end of the year hoping you landed enough punches for the blows to your head to be worth it.

Round 2, because of the circular loop that seems to appear through all aspects of life, for all of us. Our brains return to similar concepts, similar ideas. And practically, there are only so many pieces of the property system (or at least, only so many that I’m aware of), so there’s only so many topics to talk about (in between off-topic rants, insights and questions of course). So over the coming hear, I’m expecting to go back ‘round on a few things.

Consider the latter point, it’s worth noting how it began.

This blog is a personal experiment in writing and web publishing, but also an experiment in how thought-processing-via-word-processing works

Still true.

It turns out, externally processing my thoughts via blogging moves my thinking forward. It also saves my friends and family a lot of time, as they have fewer 2-hour-long mental debriefs with me.

However, reviewing, retaining and refining my thoughts is less successful in this blogging format.

So I’m starting a Zettelkasten. If you’re into thinking and writing, you might like to as well.

Finally, my first-ever blog post finished with this:

I guess, all there is, is merely to start, and see how it goes!

Year 1 (Round 1) was about starting.

Year 2 (Round 2) is about moving forward. Progressing ideas. Progressing projects. Progressing systems of writing, thinking and publishing.

I guess all there is, having started, is to keep going!

Compared to what?

We adjust to norms, and they become our reference.

  • Used to walking around streets with six foot tall fences? Try walking past a 7-foot tall fence. You might find yourself thinking “That’s a tall fence” or “I’m quite short than I thought”

Compared to what?

Used to working 70 hours per week? Try dropping to 50 hours per week for a month. You might find yourself thinking “I’m not getting anything done.”

Compared to what?

  • Used to living in a 180 square meter house with one other person? Try walking through an 80 square meter studio apartment. You might find yourself thinking “There’s no space in here”.

Compared to what?

When you next find yourself in a comparative mindset, or making judgement statements, try thinking about this:

  1. What is my reference?

  2. What is most important in this judgement?

  3. What other reference points could there be?

  4. What would be my conclusion if I used another reference point?

Respond, don't react

Deceptively simple advice. Sounds easy, but if you’ve every tried to do something other than what you naturally do, you’ll understand how driven we all are by our knee-jerk stimulus-kick-back impulses.

The good thing is, it’s just your brain, and you can change it.

It turns out, as well as being deceptively simple advice but challenging to follow, it’s also deceptively simple to improve (but also challenging to continue).

If you’re curious, start with The How of Happiness. Cheesy title, perhaps, but it’s solid stuff.

If you’re not a reader, this wouldn’t be a bad time to start.

Maybe if we learnt to create a bit more space between the stimulus and our reaction, we could choose to respond instead.

And maybe, if some of us did that more often, there might be a little less pain in the world.

Incoming retrospective

It’s been a hell of a couple of weeks. Family funeral, university block courses exploring my personal essence and destiny, and now incredible, tragic events I never imagined I’d see in this country, let alone be personally connected to.

Hence the radio silence on this end.

For anyone reading these: Sorry, not sorry. Life it what it is, and so it will continue to be. Best efforts, and all that.

Here’s are heads up on what is coming.

30 March will mark 1 year of (almost) daily blogging. Anniversaries are a good excuse to pause and reflect, so expect some rehashed revisions of old posts, and likely some exploration of a “where to from here”.

It’s a journey, and I hope I’ll have some friends along for the ride.

Wonder and connection

In our rush to get somewhere, we often miss moments of connection.

A piece of art that brings a tear to your eye.

A story shared in conversation that makes your jaw clench.

A person on the street that spins you in nostalgia.

An article that changes your mind.

A photo that stops your train of though dead in its tracks.

A neighbour’s wave and smile that brings a slight grin to your face.

Don’t miss the moments that move you. When something surprising connects, remember to wonder why.