Well said! If my own experience is any indicator, Substack can become dopamine-feeding black hole for thinkers like me. I’m still figuring out what to do about that.
This is, notably, full of wisdom. You articulated for me why I have such a reluctant appreciation for Substack — I know I am so prone to this! Thank you for writing and sharing this.
A great topic! Firstly, I love your play with 'spectacle' and 'spectacular'. You make many good points, which I agree with wholeheartedly. I have always been a very slow eater, as well as a slow reader. I want to digest words within a space of calm and focus. I find I am just turning away from all the noise of screens and posts. The only thing I do with strange speed is write poetry. But I put myself in that space of calm, and then the words have a chance to breathe and take root on the page. I do write very short poems. Your article made me think of a professor at Berkeley, Dacher Keltner, who has done a lot of work on the concept of awe. He focuses on everyday wonder as a path to being awed. Perhaps, another fun way to consider some of the ideas you have brought forth where we chase the spectacle of wisdom, at our peril.
Thanks Amanda, this is encouraging and a brilliant comment. Perhaps there is a connection between being a slow reader and a slow eater - a healthy disposition of slowness which counteracts the age of speed we live in?
Your thoughts on awe are spot on. I hadn't thought before that in constantly chasing spectacles we neglect the little "spectacles" of ordinary awe that are around us each day. And what we don't notice, we cannot love; and what we don't love, we struggle to care for. Thus noticing the ordinary awe around us is vitally important, e.g. in caring for the wildflowers around us in our everyday localities.
Thank you for this lovely reply back. It is clearly a topic worthy of lengthy discussions with many angles to be explored. I really enjoyed reading the piece, even at my luxuriously slow pace!
"Read less and dwell more" - this raises two questions I want to ask you:
1) do you think a good way to 'dwell more' (or at least encourage it) is to establish a publishing schedule on a platform like this?; and
2) what are your thoughts on publishing ideas that are 'work in progress'?
Is it pride that holds us back from exposing our thoughts to the world, knowing that we will likely be able to articulate them better in a year's time? I expect the answer is a balance in that some things are ready exposure and some aren't - but I'd be interested to hear your thoughts.
Thank you for these questions Arthur. As to a publishing schedule, I don't follow a fixed one, but aim for one essay and one reflection every two weeks. However, if an essay is on a pertinent topic then I will publish outside/in addition to this schedule. I think reducing publishing output is one way to encourage readers to dwell more.
With regard to works on progress, if you think an essay needs more time it probably does. Quality really matters - especially in a world where so many essays are published everyday. Personally, I am trying to give much more editing time to my essays and there are some topics that I have "works in progress" but know that my thinking is not yet fully mature/where it should be.
What an interesting take on reading wisdom for the spectacle. I’m with your first footnote—that exposure repeatedly can be a good thing. For instance I have heard “don’t argue politics” from several different sources—so I take notice and don’t rise to the bait. It can be a slow practice to change.
I love reading wise books. I gobbled Maggie Ross’s book on the gift of tears but retain little to none of it despite lots of underlining. My brain no longer holds onto abstract stuff I read but I love to read it.
Interesting thought. I read a lot. Revisiting my great joy that kept me going as a child. I vary from non fiction to fantasy, and no matter how unplanned my reading is, everything connects in the end. My thoughts swirl and mix these ideas and I find greater understanding of the whole.
Thanks for giving me something to ponder as I milk cows. I especially love when someone I read changes my mind. This is part of the reason I keep reading, to challenge my ideas and see things from another perspective.
I might suggest we take a lesson from the Collect for Advent 2 in the 1928 BCP. It tells us to "read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest" scripture. I think we should do the same with a lot what we read these days.
Yes, too much reading in bits, quotes aphorisms. A good book can be a tough read, but if we are not ready yet to encounter the mind at work behind the text, and importantly where that mind has come from, much is missed. I have found this with books I have gone back to more than once. The good stuff that left an imprint the first time has meanwhile attracted enough allied thought to make more sense. Just a thought, I sometimes have to had time to review, even criticise, what an impressive communicator is trying to say. Wisdom has its limits, and context can matter?
I think we can put some trust that life can move us beyond the immediate gratifications of the digital scamper that swallows up so much of even our good intentions.
I loved this. Thank you for verbalizing so well something that is always on my mind. I got rid of social media and even my smartphone a couple years ago, and still, the allure of wisdom (and the pride in knowing what "people are talking about") is strong for me here on Substack. I desire to write more, but am very hesitant to add to the "noise" and yet, I am so thankful for writers like you, Paul Kingsnorth, and others here on Substack (and elsewhere on the internet) because I have gained so much from their writings, and also have felt less alone in the strange battle of trying to live a mostly analog life in the this digital world. Sometimes I wish I had the courage to pull the plug and stick with only the print journals to which I subscribe (currently Hearth and Field and Plough) but I do have some serious FOMO about my favorite online writers. Such a quandary! Anyway, thanks for this!
My pleasure Kristin, and I resonate with your urge to just go analog. Something I do from time to time is print off an article from Substack (or other online sources) when it really strikes me as a good piece. This is a compromise, so to speak, between print and digital. The reading experience is so different though. One day, I might try and do what Ruth Gaskovski has done and create PDFs of my essays for readers.
That would be lovely! I love that Ruth Gavorski does that. I like the idea of creating limitations around tech consumption in as many ways as is necessary. My husband and I will often print articles for one another, and I even think our conversations about those are better, as opposed to an article we both read only online. Interesting! Anyway, thank you, and keep writing!
You really looked into my soul with this one! A very timely reminder that it isn't good enough to just copy out Rilke quotes or whatever into my commonplace book if I spend way too much time on Substack! Thank you for this very chewy food for thought.
This is very inspirational for me, thank you. My father, who passed away last month, was a thinker. He read and pondered- and was a thought leader in his industry. He would read and you knew he was pondering and the wheels were grinding in his silence. He didn’t argue politics, but he leaned left and was progressive in the conservative world he lived in. His long time boss spoke at his service and highlighted that my Dad was the smartest man he ever knew. I was humbled by that and I hope someone can say things like that at my funeral one day. Your piece is almost a message from him. He is telling me that I need to say less and think more.
I'm honoured this piece really resonated with you and reminded you of your father. And I love this line, it is so evocative: "He would read and you knew he was pondering and the wheels were grinding in his silence."
Thank you for this reminder, Hadden. I've had in my mind a thought that I want to expound upon which relates to this, and you've got me thinking more about it. Thank you for adding to the heap of wisdom swirling in my mind, and challenging me to act upon it!
Well said! If my own experience is any indicator, Substack can become dopamine-feeding black hole for thinkers like me. I’m still figuring out what to do about that.
This is, notably, full of wisdom. You articulated for me why I have such a reluctant appreciation for Substack — I know I am so prone to this! Thank you for writing and sharing this.
A great topic! Firstly, I love your play with 'spectacle' and 'spectacular'. You make many good points, which I agree with wholeheartedly. I have always been a very slow eater, as well as a slow reader. I want to digest words within a space of calm and focus. I find I am just turning away from all the noise of screens and posts. The only thing I do with strange speed is write poetry. But I put myself in that space of calm, and then the words have a chance to breathe and take root on the page. I do write very short poems. Your article made me think of a professor at Berkeley, Dacher Keltner, who has done a lot of work on the concept of awe. He focuses on everyday wonder as a path to being awed. Perhaps, another fun way to consider some of the ideas you have brought forth where we chase the spectacle of wisdom, at our peril.
Thanks Amanda, this is encouraging and a brilliant comment. Perhaps there is a connection between being a slow reader and a slow eater - a healthy disposition of slowness which counteracts the age of speed we live in?
Your thoughts on awe are spot on. I hadn't thought before that in constantly chasing spectacles we neglect the little "spectacles" of ordinary awe that are around us each day. And what we don't notice, we cannot love; and what we don't love, we struggle to care for. Thus noticing the ordinary awe around us is vitally important, e.g. in caring for the wildflowers around us in our everyday localities.
Thank you for this lovely reply back. It is clearly a topic worthy of lengthy discussions with many angles to be explored. I really enjoyed reading the piece, even at my luxuriously slow pace!
"Read less and dwell more" - this raises two questions I want to ask you:
1) do you think a good way to 'dwell more' (or at least encourage it) is to establish a publishing schedule on a platform like this?; and
2) what are your thoughts on publishing ideas that are 'work in progress'?
Is it pride that holds us back from exposing our thoughts to the world, knowing that we will likely be able to articulate them better in a year's time? I expect the answer is a balance in that some things are ready exposure and some aren't - but I'd be interested to hear your thoughts.
Thank you for these questions Arthur. As to a publishing schedule, I don't follow a fixed one, but aim for one essay and one reflection every two weeks. However, if an essay is on a pertinent topic then I will publish outside/in addition to this schedule. I think reducing publishing output is one way to encourage readers to dwell more.
With regard to works on progress, if you think an essay needs more time it probably does. Quality really matters - especially in a world where so many essays are published everyday. Personally, I am trying to give much more editing time to my essays and there are some topics that I have "works in progress" but know that my thinking is not yet fully mature/where it should be.
What an interesting take on reading wisdom for the spectacle. I’m with your first footnote—that exposure repeatedly can be a good thing. For instance I have heard “don’t argue politics” from several different sources—so I take notice and don’t rise to the bait. It can be a slow practice to change.
I love reading wise books. I gobbled Maggie Ross’s book on the gift of tears but retain little to none of it despite lots of underlining. My brain no longer holds onto abstract stuff I read but I love to read it.
Your insights are well taken.
Thank you for the insight and inspiration. Mulling it over.
You’re welcome.
Well said! I confess to be guilty of this.
These are great points particularly in this age of endless self help and social science.
I often kick myself for not reading more but I should instead kick myself for failing to internalize and apply the things I have read.
I often kick myself too - especially when I'm trying to think of that "brilliant insight" I read last week but now cannot find nor remember...
Interesting thought. I read a lot. Revisiting my great joy that kept me going as a child. I vary from non fiction to fantasy, and no matter how unplanned my reading is, everything connects in the end. My thoughts swirl and mix these ideas and I find greater understanding of the whole.
Thanks for giving me something to ponder as I milk cows. I especially love when someone I read changes my mind. This is part of the reason I keep reading, to challenge my ideas and see things from another perspective.
"Ultimately, it was only those doers and disciples who benefited from hearing the wisdom that came from Wisdom Himself." - Thanks for this, Hadden.
I might suggest we take a lesson from the Collect for Advent 2 in the 1928 BCP. It tells us to "read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest" scripture. I think we should do the same with a lot what we read these days.
Yes, too much reading in bits, quotes aphorisms. A good book can be a tough read, but if we are not ready yet to encounter the mind at work behind the text, and importantly where that mind has come from, much is missed. I have found this with books I have gone back to more than once. The good stuff that left an imprint the first time has meanwhile attracted enough allied thought to make more sense. Just a thought, I sometimes have to had time to review, even criticise, what an impressive communicator is trying to say. Wisdom has its limits, and context can matter?
I think we can put some trust that life can move us beyond the immediate gratifications of the digital scamper that swallows up so much of even our good intentions.
I loved this. Thank you for verbalizing so well something that is always on my mind. I got rid of social media and even my smartphone a couple years ago, and still, the allure of wisdom (and the pride in knowing what "people are talking about") is strong for me here on Substack. I desire to write more, but am very hesitant to add to the "noise" and yet, I am so thankful for writers like you, Paul Kingsnorth, and others here on Substack (and elsewhere on the internet) because I have gained so much from their writings, and also have felt less alone in the strange battle of trying to live a mostly analog life in the this digital world. Sometimes I wish I had the courage to pull the plug and stick with only the print journals to which I subscribe (currently Hearth and Field and Plough) but I do have some serious FOMO about my favorite online writers. Such a quandary! Anyway, thanks for this!
My pleasure Kristin, and I resonate with your urge to just go analog. Something I do from time to time is print off an article from Substack (or other online sources) when it really strikes me as a good piece. This is a compromise, so to speak, between print and digital. The reading experience is so different though. One day, I might try and do what Ruth Gaskovski has done and create PDFs of my essays for readers.
That would be lovely! I love that Ruth Gavorski does that. I like the idea of creating limitations around tech consumption in as many ways as is necessary. My husband and I will often print articles for one another, and I even think our conversations about those are better, as opposed to an article we both read only online. Interesting! Anyway, thank you, and keep writing!
You really looked into my soul with this one! A very timely reminder that it isn't good enough to just copy out Rilke quotes or whatever into my commonplace book if I spend way too much time on Substack! Thank you for this very chewy food for thought.
This is so true. So important to consider. I need to revisit this often lest I fall into the dangerous trap laid for me.
This is very inspirational for me, thank you. My father, who passed away last month, was a thinker. He read and pondered- and was a thought leader in his industry. He would read and you knew he was pondering and the wheels were grinding in his silence. He didn’t argue politics, but he leaned left and was progressive in the conservative world he lived in. His long time boss spoke at his service and highlighted that my Dad was the smartest man he ever knew. I was humbled by that and I hope someone can say things like that at my funeral one day. Your piece is almost a message from him. He is telling me that I need to say less and think more.
I'm honoured this piece really resonated with you and reminded you of your father. And I love this line, it is so evocative: "He would read and you knew he was pondering and the wheels were grinding in his silence."
Thank you for this reminder, Hadden. I've had in my mind a thought that I want to expound upon which relates to this, and you've got me thinking more about it. Thank you for adding to the heap of wisdom swirling in my mind, and challenging me to act upon it!
Let us not be hearers only, but doers.