2020-10-07 Better Than Meditatio

It’s pretty much the simplest, cheapest way to improve your life that has ever been invented.

The only problem with meditation is that it’s just too simple. I can’t get a hold of it for very long — it resists habitification. Maybe you know what I’m talking about?

I’ve tried. On Coach.me I’ve had a few stretches of 4+ straight months where I meditated pretty much every day.

I’ve used Headspace. I’ve used Brain Beats. I’ve used Equanimity. I’ve used nothing. I’ve used NSR. I’ve read The Power of Now, Waking Up, Creativity Inc, Wherever You Go There You Are, Search Inside Yourself. I’ve done a 10 day silent meditation retreat. I’ve meditated on BART, on walks, on a cushion in a private room, at my desk. I get meditation, with its paradoxical mission of focusing so intently on not focusing on anything at all. I’ve done “it”.

There’s something slippery about meditation. I can never quite get a good grip on it. I feel like someone with Alzheimer’s waking up each morning having the same conversation with myself about who stole my shoes, then some stranger I’ve never seen before gently informs me that they’re right where I put them the night before.

Know yourself better

Imagine a fountain of thoughts bubbling up from your subconscious. Your conscious brain receives these bubbling thoughts during meditation, and we often get caught up in one and float away in a thought bubble. Eventually it pops, and we’re back, but it’s a lot of work. With free writing, we have a convenient method to step back from the fountain and observe the bubbles and let them float away on their own… because we are too busy recording them. The separation between thought and self becomes easier to discern and maintain, the same way that carrying a camera around a party creates a separation between party and party recorder.

In order for this to work, the typing has to be truly free. This means that the critical, editing, judging, vetoing, guiding, interpreting part of your brain — the neocortex—has to be almost entirely disabled. The easiest way to make this happen is to type into a box that can’t be opened by others. This is why I think 750 Words serves an important purpose. While other journaling tools may have more features, I will never let anything typed on 750 Words be public. These words are typed into a box (and are searchable by you) but they won’t ever get cross-posted to your blog, or to Facebook, or found under your bed, or on your computer. Creating this level of privacy for your words is the only way your neocortex can let down its guard, and let the real words out, so that you (and the rest of your brain) can read them.