Doing the opposite(ˈäpəzit) of everyone is valuable(ˈvaly(o͞o)əbəl)

By Derek Sivers

It’s supply(səˈplī) and demand. The more people do something, the less valuable it is.

Everyone else is multi-tasking. So it’s more valuable to single-task.

Everyone else is hyper-connected(ˈhīpər). So it’s more valuable to disconnect.

Warren(ˈwär-,ˈwôrən) Buffett’s investing(inˈvest) advice is “Be fearful when others are greedy(ˈgrēdē), and be greedy when others are fearful.”

So do what others aren’t doing.

If you play an instrument(ˈinstrəmənt), give it a twist(twist) that nobody’s done before. Like Greg Pattillo’s beatbox(ˈbētˌbäks) flute(flo͞ot). The New York Times said he’s “the only person in the world who does what he does”.

When I made a living playing colleges, I had three different acts: a rock band, a solo acoustic(əˈko͞ostik) show, and “The Professional(prəˈfeSHənl) Pests(pest)”, an act where I’d run around in a black lycra(ˈlaɪkrə) bag, bothering(ˈbäT͟Hər) people. The Professional Pests out-booked the other acts by 5-to-1, because there are tons(tôN,tən) of rock bands, tons of solo acoustic shows, but only one place to hire(hīr) a guy(gī) running around in a bag, bothering people.

Look at what your competitors(kəmˈpetətər) are doing, then vow(vou) not to do that. Don’t try to beat(bēt) them at their game. Play a completely different game. Be radically(ˈradikəl) opposite. Don’t be associated(-SHē-,əˈsōsēˌātid) with them in any way. Be so different that people don’t even think to compare you.

Before Starbucks launched, a cup of coffee almost anywhere cost 50 cents. But Starbucks wanted to sell their coffee for $4. How could they get away with it? They made a unique(yo͞oˈnēk) ambience(ˈambēəns) inside their shops. They created unique names for their sizes, like Grande and Venti(ˈventē). They created unique names for their drinks, like Frappuccino. Their offerings were so different that people accepted(akˈseptid) the $4 price(prīs) without comparing it to the typical(ˈtipikəl) 50-cent cup of coffee.

That is how different you should be. Don’t compete(kəmˈpēt). Be completely different.

https://sivers.org/contrarian

社交成长

过去，冲动时会将自己的想法分享在朋友圈，奇思妙想、愤世嫉俗等等。不知从何时起，开始将其设置为私密状态，也就是只有自己可见。冲动过后，庆幸只有自己可见。再到后来，评论别人，都会立即删掉。

这是一种什么状态？是一种困惑？社交恐惧？

确实，一直有一件事在困扰着我：你根本无从知晓是什么人，在维护谁，防范什么。

It’s gotten to the point where you don’t know who is controlling whom from what. Or should that be, from whom… Well, whom gives a damn, anyway.

-Mona Lisa Smile

Feeling disgust(disˈgəst) helps us stay healthy, study says

By Susan Scutti

Disgust is our guardian(ˈgärdēən): Though most of us would rather not feel this unpleasant(ˌənˈplezənt) emotion(iˈmōSHən), it helps us avoid disease(diˈzēz) and infection(inˈfekSHən), new research suggests(sə(g)ˈjest).

Long before microscopes(ˈmīkrəˌskōp) revealed(riˈvēl) unseen germs(jərm) and parasites(ˈparəˌsīt), humans developed(diˈveləpt) a system of disgust, with six basic(ˈbāsik) triggers(ˈtrigər) warning us to turn away from harmful pathogens(-ˌjen,ˈpaTHəjən), according to a study published Sunday in the journal(ˈjərnl) Philosophical(ˌfiləˈsäfikəl) Transactions(-ˈzak-,tranˈsakSHən) of the Royal(ˈroiəl) Society.

“Disgust evolved(iˈvälv) to protect us from disease in our ancient(ˈānCHənt) past. The disgust response today may, or may not, be a good guide(gīd) to what might make us sick(sik) today,” said Val Curtis, lead author of the study and a professor(prəˈfesər) and director of the Environmental Health Group of the London School of Hygiene(ˈhīˌjēn) & Tropical(ˈträpəkəl) Medicine(ˈmedisən).

“It is unlikely to be a coincidence(-ˌdens,kōˈinsədəns) that many of the stimuli that elicit(iˈlisit) the emotion of disgust in humans are also implicated(ˈimpliˌkāt) in the transmission(transˈmiSHən,tranz-) of infectious(inˈfekSHəs) disease,” Curtis and her co-author, Mícheál de Barra, a lecturer(ˈlekCHərər) at Brunel University London, wrote.

To better understand disgust, Curtis and de Barra recruited(riˈkro͞ot) more than 2,500 participants(pärˈtisəpənt) through advertisements(ədˈvərtiz-,ˈadvərˌtīzmənt) on social media and psychology(sīˈkäləjē) websites for an online survey.

…

The participants read brief descriptions of 75 potentially(pəˈtenCHəl) revolting(riˈvōltiNG) scenarios(-ˈnär-,səˈne(ə)rēˌō) they might encounter(enˈkoun(t)ər) in a day. Among the word snapshots(ˈsnapˌSHät) to be rated(rāt) were these:

Your friend shows you a big, oozing(o͞oz) lesion(ˈlēZHən) on his foot.

Feeling something sticky(ˈstikē) on a door handle.

You pour(pôr) lumpy(ˈləmpē) stale(stāl) milk on your cereal(ˈsi(ə)rēəl).

A hairless(ˈhe(ə)rlis) old cat rubs(rəb) up against your leg.

Watching a woman pick her nose(nōz)

On television(ˈteləˌviZHən) you see someone eat a raw(rô) fish head.

Seeing a cockroach(ˈkäkˌrōCH) run across your path.

Reading the scenarios, participants rated the strength(streNG(k)TH,strenTH) of their disgust on a scale(skāl) from “no disgust” to “extreme(ikˈstrēm) disgust.”

…
https://edition.cnn.com/2018/06/04/health/disgust-health-disease-study/index.html?utm_source=nextdraft&utm_medium=email

130 Days Off Per Year

By Steve Pavlina

Can you summon(ˈsəmən) the self-awareness(əˈwe(ə)rnis) to recognize(ˈrekigˌnīz,ˈrekə(g)ˌnīz) when you’re putting in 8+ hours at your desk, but you only get 1-2 hours of REAL, meaningful, focused work done? How many days do you need to have like that before accepting that it’s time for a serious(ˈsi(ə)rēəs) reset of your motivation(ˌmōtəˈvāSHən), drive, and focus?

What’s the solution? In many cases a great solution is to take more time off. It’s often counter-intuitive(inˈt(y)o͞oitiv), but it works.

One simple reason is that when work time feels overly abundant(əˈbəndənt), it’s very easy to waste(wāst) it. Unproductive pseudo(ˈso͞odō)-work creeps(krēp) into each day… until most of each day has drifted(drift) away from our core value-generating activities.

In his book The Success Principles(ˈprinsəpəl), Jack Canfield(ˈkanˌfēld) recommends taking 130-150 free days each year. A free day means that from midnight to midnight (a full 24 hours), you do no work whatsoever. No work-related email. No social media. No dwelling(ˈdweliNG) on work-related problems. You don’t touch any work-related activities unless you’re dealt(dēl) an absolute(ˈabsəˌlo͞ot,ˌabsəˈlo͞ot) emergency(iˈmərjənsē).

When you’ve found work that engages(enˈgāj) you, it’s so easy to allow work-related activities to bleed(blēd) over into every single day, including so-called off days. I’m as guilty(ˈgiltē) of this as any entrepreneur(-ˈnər,ˌäntrəprəˈno͝or). I find it especially(iˈspeSHəlē) difficult not to work since my field is personal development. My work and personal life are already intertwined(ˌintərˈtwīn), and I can work from anywhere.

You may be wondering: What would you actually do with 130-150 days off each year? Without work to fill the time, what are you supposed to do instead? Watch TV? Play video games? Go hiking(hīk)?

…
https://www.stevepavlina.com/blog/2014/12/130-days-off-per-year/

“Bonnie and Clyde(klīd)” Review

By Roger Ebert

“Bonnie and Clyde” is a milestone(ˈmīlˌstōn) in the history of American movies, a work of truth and brilliance(ˈbrilyəns). It is also pitilessly(ˈpitēlis) cruel(ˈkro͞oəl), filled with sympathy(ˈsimpəTHē), nauseating(ˈnôzēˌātiNG), funny, heartbreaking(ˈhärtˌbrākiNG), and astonishingly(əˈstäniSHiNG) beautiful. If it does not seem that those words should be strung together, perhaps that is because movies do not very often reflect the full range of human life.

The lives in this case belonged, briefly(ˈbrēflē), to Clyde Barrow(ˈbarō) and Bonnie Parker. They were two nobodies who got their pictures in the paper by robbing(räb) banks and killing people. They weren’t very good at the bank robbery(ˈräb(ə)rē) part of it, but they were fairly good at killing people and absolutely first-class at getting their pictures in the paper.

Bonnie was a gum-chewing(gəm CHo͞o) waitress(ˈwātris) and Clyde was a two-bit hood out on parole(pəˈrōl). But from the beginning, they both seemed to have the knack(nak) of entertaining(ˌentərˈtāniNG) people. Bonnie wrote ballads(ˈbaləd) and mailed them in with pictures Clyde took with his Kodak. They seemed to consider themselves public servants(ˈsərvənt), bringing a little sparkle(ˈspärkəl) to the poverty(ˈpävərtē) and despair(diˈspe(ə)r) of the Dust(dəst) Bowl(bōl) during the early Depression(diˈpreSHən) years.

“Good afternoon,” Clyde would say when they walked into a bank. “This is the Barrow(ˈbarō) Gang.” In a way Bonnie and Clyde were pioneers(ˌpīəˈnir), consolidating(kənˈsäləˌdāt) the vein(vān) of violence(ˈvī(ə)ləns) in American history and exploiting it, for the first time in the mass media.

…
https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/bonnie-and-clyde-1967

‘I Don’t Feel Superhuman. I Feel Like a Mom Who Has a Career(kəˈri(ə)r).’

By Cecilia Kang

Rebecca Slaughter’s(ˈslôtər) recent Monday morning started out in a pretty typical(ˈtipikəl) way for a working mother of a newborn(ˈn(y)o͞oˌbôrn). She woke at 2 a.m. to feed, burp(bərp) and change the diaper(ˈdī(ə)pər) on her then-7-week-old daughter, Pippa. She repeated the routine(ro͞oˈtēn) three hours later.

By 6:30 a.m., Ms.(miz) Slaughter checked her email and schedule(-jəl,ˈskejo͞ol) while fixing breakfast for her two older children, ages 3 and 5. Her commute(kəˈmyo͞ot) started at 8, driving her Honda minivan(ˈminēˌvan) from her home in Bethesda(bəˈTHezdə), Md., a Washington suburb(ˈsəbərb), while hooked up to a hands-free electric breast(brest) pump(pəmp).

It was when she arrived at the office about a half-hour later that her day took an unusual turn. She checked into the neoclassical(ˌnēōˈklasikəl) Federal(ˈfed(ə)rəl) Trade(trād) Commission(kəˈmiSHən) Building in the nation’s capital, with Pippa in tow(tō), as one of the country’s top business regulators(ˈregyəˌlātər) — and the first to do the job with a baby in the office.

For the next several weeks, until Pippa goes to day care as a slightly older baby, she will join Ms. Slaughter on the fifth floor, either in a gray(grā) bouncy(ˈbounsē) seat(sēt) behind a desk or nestled(ˈnesəl) in a wrap(rap) attached(əˈtaCHt) to her mother’s chest(CHest). It was the imperfect(imˈpərfikt) but best solution for Ms. Slaughter, whose appointment in March to serve as an F.T.C. commissioner(kəˈmiSH(ə)nər) just happened to coincide(ˈkōənˌsīd,ˌkōənˈsīd) with the birth of her third child.

“I am tired(tīrd),” Ms. Slaughter said as she put on a nursing(ˈnərsiNG) cover for a late morning feeding. “I don’t feel superhuman. I feel like a mom who has a career about which she cares very much and a family about which she cares very much. And I’m trying to navigate(ˈnaviˌgāt) the two.”

…
https://www.nytimes.com/2018/05/31/technology/government-mom.html

Unlearning

By Derek Sivers

The world changes. Some people don’t.

You learned things that were true back then, but now they’re false.

You got successful doing things one way, but now that way is moot(mo͞ot).

You still consider yourself an expert(ˈekˌspərt), but that expertise(-ˈtēs,ˌekspərˈtēz) has expired(ikˈspīr).

You dug(dəg) so deep into something that you lost perspective(pərˈspektiv), and didn’t realize the landscape had changed.

Sometimes it’s just a change in situation(ˌsiCHo͞oˈāSHən). The strategy(ˈstratəjē) that got you to where you are is different from the strategy that will get you to where you want to be next.

The solution for all of these is unlearning.

Doubt(dout) each old thing you know. Require current evidence. Make it prove itself to be true today. Otherwise, let it go.

Yes I’m talking to myself. For ten years I was so deep in my little world of CD Baby that I lost all perspective. I learned so much about the music business in the 90s, then spoke like an expert about it for years, until I suddenly realized that the world had changed so what I was saying wasn’t true anymore.

Since then, when I’m asked for my opinion(əˈpinyən) about the music business, I just say, “I don’t know.” It feels weird(wi(ə)rd) to say that when someone is looking to me for answers. But I know my old opinions have expired, so I can’t trust those anymore.

It hurts to go from feeling like an expert to feeling like an idiot(ˈidēət). But it’s crucial(ˈkro͞oSHəl) to go through that pain, or you’ll never grow.

This is a modern situation that’s here to stay. Technology will keep changing the world faster, so we’ll have to keep unlearning what we knew, and relearning anew(əˈn(y)o͞o).

P.S. Two great quotes(kwōt) about this:

“The illiterates(i(l)ˈlitərit) of the 21st century(ˈsenCH(ə)rē) will not be those who cannot read and write but those who cannot learn, unlearn, and relearn.” — Alvin Toffler

“I can’t understand why people are frightened(ˈfrītnd) of new ideas. I’m frightened of the old ones.” — John Cage(kāj)

https://sivers.org/unlearning

Resting at Home Meditation

By Leo Babauta

Try this now, if you’re somewhere where you can sit in quiet(ˈkwīət) (even on a train(trān) or bus) for a minute or two:

1. Sit still, ideally(īˈdē(ə)lē) in a position where you feel stable and grounded.

2. First check in with your body(ˈbädē) — how does it feel right now? What sensations(senˈsāSHən) can you notice? Is your posture(ˈpäsCHər) upright(ˈəpˌrīt) and relaxed(riˈlakst)? What kind of energy(ˈenərjē) are you feeling in this moment? What does it feel like to be alive right now?

3. Then check in with your breath(breTH) — is your breathing relaxed? How does this breath feel? What is the texture of this breath? Keep your attention(əˈtenCHən) on the breath for a few moments.

4. Next, expand your awareness(əˈwe(ə)rnis) to everything in the room, including yourself. Not anything in particular, just a general open awareness of everything, eyes open, taking in all sensations, receiving them, not labeling them. Don’t judge(jəj) anything, don’t fix on anything in particular(pə(r)ˈtikyələr), just open yourself to awareness of a field(fēld) of sensations, your own body included in that field, not separate(ˈsɛp(ə)rət) from anything.

5. In any of these steps, if your mind starts to wander to thoughts, just notice that (without judgment) and gently come back to your awareness of the present(priˈzent,ˈprezənt) moment.

If you can rest in this open awareness, coming back when you wander … what can happen is that you yourself can drop away. Not your body or your awareness, but your conception(kənˈsepSHən) of yourself. We all have this idea of ourselves, a structure we’ve created that is “me,” but in truth it’s just a mental concept. With an open awareness, this conception can drop away. Try it for a minute or two, and see if you can let that mental concept of yourself drop away, so that you’re just a part(pärt) of everything in your awareness.

What I’ve found is that in the moments you can do this, it feels like you’re coming home.

Think about what it’s like to come home — either to your home at night, or to your childhood home after being away. It’s like coming home to the familiar(fəˈmilyər), to the comfortable(ˈkəmftərbəl,ˈkəmfərtəbəl), to a sense of belonging. This is where you belong, where you are loved, where you can be at rest. That’s the feeling that you can get if you rest in open awareness, with your sense of self just dropping away.

Rest in this sense of coming home. Rest in this place of stillness, of connecting to the infinite(ˈinfənit).

https://zenhabits.net/still/

Technology(tekˈnäləjē)

INT: A SUPERMARKET(ˈso͞opərˌmärkit)

HAZEL(ˈhāzəl) is in line at the checkout, speaking steadily as the clerk(klərk) bags and rings up her items.

HAZEL

Did you see that man? Hardly even looked at you. People are so rude(ro͞od). Oh, here, I have a reusable bag.

(Hands the clerk her bag)

The problem is everybody’s on their smartphones these days. My granddaughter, Rainn, has one, and she’s only nine years old. Nine. She should be playing outside in the sunshine, don’t you think? It isn’t healthy for people to stare(ste(ə)r) at screens all day. I read a thing that says it can lead to blindness. Or cancer. Either(ˈēT͟Hər,ˈīT͟Hər) way, seems like a bad thing, doesn’t it?

No one just sits with their thoughts anymore. Now if you’re in a line or on the bus, you’re just…texting or something. Instead of making conversation(ˌkänvərˈsāSHən) like this, you know, talking to people, making connections. Which is what really matters when you get right down to it.

The other day I gave my little grandson(ˈgran(d)ˌsən) a book to play with and he tried to swipe(swīp) the pages instead of turning them. Can you even believe that?

(Shakes her head disbelievingly(ˌdisbəˈlēviNG))

I miss the days where people actually paid attention(əˈtenCHən) to the people and things around them. I feel like we miss so much just by being absorbed(-ˈsôrbd,əbˈzôrbd) in these little silicone(ˈsiləˌkōn) worlds.

(Realizes that the clerk has been trying to signal(ˈsignəl) her)

Oh, I’m sorry, what did you say? Cash or debit? Right! Debit. You’ll have to excuse me. I get so carried away sometimes.

https://www.instantmonologues.com/preview/Technology

Unfortunately(ˌənˈfôrCHənətlē), the Electric(iˈlektrik) Scooters(ˈsko͞otər) Are Fantastic

But can they succeed(səkˈsēd) despite(diˈspīt) their essential(iˈsenCHəl) dorkiness?

By Robinson Meyer

They would understand my plight(plīt) in Old Europe(ˈyo͝orəp). In ancient(ˈānCHənt), barbaric(bärˈbarik) days when local vassals(ˈvasəl) managed(ˈmanij) petite(pəˈtēt) armies, brute(bro͞ot) knights(nīt) often swept into villages(ˈvilij), declaring the inhabitants(inˈhabitnt) subject to new laws and new lords before riding(ˈrīdiNG) off again with the changing of the season.

When this latest army invaded(inˈvād) my village, it seemed no different than the rest. I had heard rumor(ˈro͞omər) of it for weeks, had feared and resented(riˈzent) it, had assured(əˈSHo͝ord) friends that its occupation(ˌäkyəˈpāSHən) would end as soon as all its predecessors(ˈpredəˌsesər,ˈprē-). But when its foot soldiers(ˈsōljər) finally arrived(əˈrīv), I was shocked to find myself charmed(CHärmd). Now, I cannot imagine life without them.

I speak, of course, of the electric scooters.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. It was not rumor exactly that first warned me of these conquerors(ˈkäNGkərər), but The New York Times. Months ago, its heralds(ˈherəld) announced that electric scooters had overtaken cities across California(-nēə,ˌkaləˈfôrnyə). These vehicles(ˈvēəkəl,ˈvēˌhikəl) looked like the Razor(ˈrāzər) scooters of yore(yôr), though they had small, zippy(ˈzipē), battery-powered engines(ˈenjən). You could rent one with your smartphone; ride it down the street, around the neighborhood(ˈnābərˌho͝od), or across the city; and then get off, tap your smartphone, and walk away. They cost about $3 per ride.

They were a public menace(ˈmenəs), that much was clear. A certain kind of young man—the type who might bring a Wi-Fi-enabled(enˈābəl) water bottle(ˈbätl) to the climbing(ˈklīmiNG) gym(jim), say—could be spotted(ˈspätid) whirring(wər) atop(əˈtäp) them. In a mad bid(bid) for market share, the start-ups behind the scooters had dumped thousands of them on city sidewalks, frustrating(ˈfrəsˌtrāt) San Francisco’s cyclists(ˈsīk(ə)list) and terrorizing(ˈterəˌrīz) its wretched(ˈreCHid) NIMBYs(ˈnimbē). A worrying story, certainly, but the threat(THret) seemed distant until this April(ˈāprəl) when I spotted a scooter in my neighborhood in Washington, D.C. Hoofing(ho͝of,ho͞of) it to the subway(ˈsəbˌwā) one morning, I caught its silhouette(ˌsilo͞oˈet) out of the corner of my eye: unused, teetering(ˈtētər), a putrescent(pyo͞oˈtresənt) green. Immediately(iˈmēdē-itlē) I despised(diˈspīz) it.

…
http://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2018/05/electric-scooters-are-the-cargo-shorts-of-transportation/561440/