"To everyone is given the key to heaven; the same key opens the gates of hell."
Ancient Proverb
Why Positive Thinking Is Bad for You
By Srikumar Rao
The "power of positive thinking" is so firmly enshrined in our culture that knocking it is a little like attacking motherhood or apple pie. Many people swear by positive thinking, and quite a few have been helped by it. Nevertheless, it is not a very effective success tool -- and it can be downright deleterious. There are much better ways to get the benefits that positive thinking allegedly provides.
Perhaps the statement that best exemplifies positive thinking is "When life hands you a lemon, make lemonade." It seems so obvious that this is good advice that we never question the wisdom of the adage. But it does not take a whole lot of digging to unearth the flaws in this reasoning.
For one thing, did life really hand you a lemon -- or was that merely your initial, unthinking reaction upon finding yourself in a difficult situation? And is being handed a lemon really a bad thing?
No matter what happens to us in life, we tend to think of it as "good" or "bad." And most of us tend to use the "bad" label three to 10 times as often as the "good" label. When we label something as "bad," we greatly increase the odds that we will experience it as such. And that is when we assume that we need to apply positive thinking. We have been given a lemon, and we had better scramble to salvage something out of the situation by making some lemonade out of it.
How tiresome and tiring!
Think back on your life. Can you recall instances when something that you initially thought was a bad thing turned out to be not so bad after all -- perhaps even spectacularly good?
Maybe, for example, you missed the early-morning train that you always take to get to work on time, and you had to wait a whole hour for the next one. But in that hour, you struck up a conversation with someone else who had missed that train... and a beautiful friendship developed. Or maybe you didn't get a job that you desperately wanted. But then you were unexpectedly offered a much better job -- which you would not have been able to accept had it not been for the earlier rejection.
And consider the story of Olympic champion Michael Phelps. He broke his wrist after slipping on some ice. He was in the middle of intense training for the Beijing games, and thought his career as a swimmer was over. But his coach wouldn't let him quit. And though he couldn't swim for a few weeks, he kept training just by kicking his legs.
Phelps did make it to the Olympics, and he won the 100-meter butterfly by one of the closest margins in athletic history -- 1/10th of a second. Turns out the weeks of kicking had given him leg strength he'd never had before. While his opponent had to stop kicking and glide at the end of the race, Phelps was able to keep going and win.
Now, let me propose something radical and revolutionary: No matter what happens to you -- no matter how terrible it may seem -- you do not stick a "bad" label on it. You are fired from your job... your mortgage lender sends you a foreclosure notice... your spouse files for divorce... or whatever. Is it possible, just possible, that the reason you experience such things as personal tragedies is because you have been conditioned to think of them that way?
In his book Man's Search for Meaning, Viktor Frankl tells about a beautiful girl from a privileged background who was grateful to be in a concentration camp because it allowed her to connect with a spiritual side of herself that she never knew existed. Observations like this led Frankl into his life's work of trying to determine why, when faced with extreme adversity, some people flourish while others disintegrate.
Many who rise triumphantly never label what they go through as "bad" and, thus, don't agonize over it. They simply take it as a given -- like an engineer surveying a swamp through which a road is to be built. From his perspective, the swamp is not a bad thing. It is merely something that has to be addressed in his construction plan.
If you never label a situation as "bad," you won't experience it that way. You won't need positive thinking to get yourself through it. And all of the stress associated with figuring out how to make lemonade out of your lemon simply goes away.
That's a lot different than saying to yourself: "This is bad. Really bad. But somehow I will make some lemonade out of this lemon -- and then perhaps it won't be so bad." What you're doing, here, is falling victim to the huge pebble in the positive-thinking shoe. First you think your situation is bad. Then you think you will somehow make it less bad. Meanwhile, you can't help but wonder if you're just kidding yourself. And if you don't manage to make lemonade out of your lemon, you're devastated -- because the success tool you were conditioned to believe in caved in on you. That's why I say that, in some cases, positive thinking can be harmful.
Can you actually go through life without labeling what happens to you as "good" or "bad"? Sure you can. But you have to train yourself not to do it. You have been conditioned to think of what happens to you as being either bad or good. And you can de-condition yourself. It is neither easy nor fast, but it is possible.
Let's say you break your leg. Yes, there is some unpleasant stuff you have to do -- like having a doctor set the broken bone and going to therapy when the cast comes off. But the real unpleasantness in this situation is what you inflict on yourself: "Why did this have to happen to me? Bad things always come my way. I am in such pain." All of that is simply baggage. You don't have to pick up this load -- and the only reason you do is because you were never told that you don't have to.
I am telling you now. Don't pick up that useless burden. Don't label what happens to you as "bad." Then you won't need positive thinking -- and much of the stress in your life will simply disappear. Poof! Just like that.
This article appears courtesy of Early To Rise, an e-zine dedicated to making money, improving your health and quality of life. For a complimentary subscription, visit http://www.earlytorise.com.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Article- "Why Simple Writing Works Better"
"Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words? He thinks I don't know the ten-dollar words. I know them all right. But there are older and simpler and better words, and those are the ones I use." Ernest Hemingway
Why Simple Writing Works Better
By John Forde
Someone once asked me...
Why I would, so often...
(at least in copy)...
Use so many...
One-line paragraphs...
And so many... well... of these things: "..."
Of course, the above is exaggerated.
But there's no getting around it...
Many copywriters really do use a lot of one-line paragraphs.
Or even one-word sentences.
Why?
Let me explain...
Imagine that you are reading, say, an e-zine that you happen to subscribe to. Much like Early to Rise, for example. You love it as ever, but you've noted quietly to yourself -- in those deep, dark hours of the night when you lie in bed thanking the heavens for all good things -- a new and disturbing change in said e-zine.
Namely that the e-zine editor seems to have lost the key marked "return" on his keyboard.
Now all his paragraphs are long, even formidable, having gone from one line, two lines, or even the occasional three to five lines, all the way up to 10 lines, 12 lines, or, God forbid, entire pages of lines with no visual break where you might rest your eyes and take a little ocular breather now and again -- something essential when you set out to read vast tomes that present weighty ideas, especially those limited, as most text today usually is, to black print on white for the bulk of the message; a problem only compounded if the same said editor has also lost his key marked "." as well.
See what just happened?
My guess is that you had to go back and read that paragraph a couple times just to stay with the thread. You may even have gone back once to check whether it is, indeed, all one long and rambling sentence.
How easy was it for you to read that paragraph? I'll guess again: not very.
Of course, there are lots of writers who live for that long, unwieldy style. Many of them work for law firms and city governments.
But even a few famous fiction writers love to get away with long sentences, uninterrupted by something so plebian as punctuation or manual line breaks.
Take author Jonathan Coe, who pounded out a 13,955-word sentence in his 2001 novel The Rotter's Club. Then there's the Polish novel with the translated title Gates of Paradise, which includes a 40,000-word sentence. If you're really a glutton for punishment, go for the Czech novel that's one sentence start to finish.
Copywriters -- the good ones -- just don't do things that way.
For one, it's just too tough for people to read big blocks of text. They look foreboding.
So we opt instead for smaller lines, shorter sentences randomly interspersed, and tight punchy ideas... because they let our readers breathe while reading.
Shorter paragraphs, words, and sentences don't slow readers down. They can even egg a reader onward, because it's no big feat to take in "just one more line"... "and one more"... until he's finished reading the column, the page, or the entire piece you've written.
The biggest reason for writing mostly in short, compact lines is that this style mimics the way we speak. And good copy almost always wants to sound conversational.
To see what I mean, try taping your next conversation.
Or read plays and screenplays.
And listen closely to the dialogue in a (good) movie.
It's quick. It's tight. It's clear.
And in copy, you're better off writing the same way.
When the writing is breezy, uncomplicated, and conversational, it also feels more accessible. But when it's cursed by big fat blocks of text and sentences choked with dependent clauses, long paragraphs that are grammatically perfect but dense, readers can get scared off in a hurry.
To sum up:
Please DO use line breaks in your copy. And your e-mails. And your blogs, e-zines, plus anything else you want to have that "easy-to-read" feel.
Please DO use those breaks judiciously. Sometimes with a one-liner. Sometimes with three lines. And yeah, sure, sometimes with a five-line heifer. But rarely more.
Be sure, too, to vary the blocks so you've got some long. Some short. But with no discernible (distracting) predictability.
Remember how you learned, back in school, to always present your paragraphs as "thesis, body, conclusion?" Well... don't do that. Learn it, but then avoid it most of the time. At least in copy.
Instead, imagine a strand of thread stitched through each paragraph block. Even the one-liner visual breaks. Just as you look to jump that white gap between paragraphs, ask yourself... "Where am I going to put my next stitch?"
Remember how your teacher told you never to start sentences with "but," "because," or "and"" Forget that too. At least some of the time. In real conversation, we break this rule often.
If you've ever looked longingly at your ";" key, purge that urge right now. Really. It's not recommended. And back away from dependent clauses as well. You're usually better off clipping each sentence at a single idea. Then starting the next sentence where you left off.
What else? One- or two-word questions are a nice way, sometimes, to urge your reader onward.
Beware of format when you make your paragraph breaks. Too many one-liners in succession, for instance, look funny in a two- or three-column layout. Equally, a three-line paragraph in a letter becomes a very long block when you go to columns. If you can mark up a post-production draft, scan for lines that need re-breaking.
A freebie: Line-breaks count in headlines and subheads too. Visually, you want one or two lines. Three at most. Usually of equal length, but do try to start new lines with verbs, numbers, or otherwise alluring bits of text. Never with throwaway words.
Sound about right?
Let's hope so.
This article appears courtesy of Early To Rise, an e-zine dedicated to making money, improving your health and quality of life. For a complimentary subscription, visit http://www.earlytorise.com.
Why Simple Writing Works Better
By John Forde
Someone once asked me...
Why I would, so often...
(at least in copy)...
Use so many...
One-line paragraphs...
And so many... well... of these things: "..."
Of course, the above is exaggerated.
But there's no getting around it...
Many copywriters really do use a lot of one-line paragraphs.
Or even one-word sentences.
Why?
Let me explain...
Imagine that you are reading, say, an e-zine that you happen to subscribe to. Much like Early to Rise, for example. You love it as ever, but you've noted quietly to yourself -- in those deep, dark hours of the night when you lie in bed thanking the heavens for all good things -- a new and disturbing change in said e-zine.
Namely that the e-zine editor seems to have lost the key marked "return" on his keyboard.
Now all his paragraphs are long, even formidable, having gone from one line, two lines, or even the occasional three to five lines, all the way up to 10 lines, 12 lines, or, God forbid, entire pages of lines with no visual break where you might rest your eyes and take a little ocular breather now and again -- something essential when you set out to read vast tomes that present weighty ideas, especially those limited, as most text today usually is, to black print on white for the bulk of the message; a problem only compounded if the same said editor has also lost his key marked "." as well.
See what just happened?
My guess is that you had to go back and read that paragraph a couple times just to stay with the thread. You may even have gone back once to check whether it is, indeed, all one long and rambling sentence.
How easy was it for you to read that paragraph? I'll guess again: not very.
Of course, there are lots of writers who live for that long, unwieldy style. Many of them work for law firms and city governments.
But even a few famous fiction writers love to get away with long sentences, uninterrupted by something so plebian as punctuation or manual line breaks.
Take author Jonathan Coe, who pounded out a 13,955-word sentence in his 2001 novel The Rotter's Club. Then there's the Polish novel with the translated title Gates of Paradise, which includes a 40,000-word sentence. If you're really a glutton for punishment, go for the Czech novel that's one sentence start to finish.
Copywriters -- the good ones -- just don't do things that way.
For one, it's just too tough for people to read big blocks of text. They look foreboding.
So we opt instead for smaller lines, shorter sentences randomly interspersed, and tight punchy ideas... because they let our readers breathe while reading.
Shorter paragraphs, words, and sentences don't slow readers down. They can even egg a reader onward, because it's no big feat to take in "just one more line"... "and one more"... until he's finished reading the column, the page, or the entire piece you've written.
The biggest reason for writing mostly in short, compact lines is that this style mimics the way we speak. And good copy almost always wants to sound conversational.
To see what I mean, try taping your next conversation.
Or read plays and screenplays.
And listen closely to the dialogue in a (good) movie.
It's quick. It's tight. It's clear.
And in copy, you're better off writing the same way.
When the writing is breezy, uncomplicated, and conversational, it also feels more accessible. But when it's cursed by big fat blocks of text and sentences choked with dependent clauses, long paragraphs that are grammatically perfect but dense, readers can get scared off in a hurry.
To sum up:
Please DO use line breaks in your copy. And your e-mails. And your blogs, e-zines, plus anything else you want to have that "easy-to-read" feel.
Please DO use those breaks judiciously. Sometimes with a one-liner. Sometimes with three lines. And yeah, sure, sometimes with a five-line heifer. But rarely more.
Be sure, too, to vary the blocks so you've got some long. Some short. But with no discernible (distracting) predictability.
Remember how you learned, back in school, to always present your paragraphs as "thesis, body, conclusion?" Well... don't do that. Learn it, but then avoid it most of the time. At least in copy.
Instead, imagine a strand of thread stitched through each paragraph block. Even the one-liner visual breaks. Just as you look to jump that white gap between paragraphs, ask yourself... "Where am I going to put my next stitch?"
Remember how your teacher told you never to start sentences with "but," "because," or "and"" Forget that too. At least some of the time. In real conversation, we break this rule often.
If you've ever looked longingly at your ";" key, purge that urge right now. Really. It's not recommended. And back away from dependent clauses as well. You're usually better off clipping each sentence at a single idea. Then starting the next sentence where you left off.
What else? One- or two-word questions are a nice way, sometimes, to urge your reader onward.
Beware of format when you make your paragraph breaks. Too many one-liners in succession, for instance, look funny in a two- or three-column layout. Equally, a three-line paragraph in a letter becomes a very long block when you go to columns. If you can mark up a post-production draft, scan for lines that need re-breaking.
A freebie: Line-breaks count in headlines and subheads too. Visually, you want one or two lines. Three at most. Usually of equal length, but do try to start new lines with verbs, numbers, or otherwise alluring bits of text. Never with throwaway words.
Sound about right?
Let's hope so.
This article appears courtesy of Early To Rise, an e-zine dedicated to making money, improving your health and quality of life. For a complimentary subscription, visit http://www.earlytorise.com.
Article-"The Creativity Of Constraints
mnmlist: the creativity of constraints
On this site, I embrace a 400-word limit (unless it doesn’t make sense). It forces me to be concise, to focus on smaller topics, to choose the important, to be creative.
Yes: constraints force us to be creative.
Often, constraints, limitations, are seen as a negative, but to me they’re a feature. They might restrict freedom and force sacrifices, sure, but they also force us to choose. And to work within and around the constraints.
When we must work within limits, we have to figure out how to make those work. This forces us to think outside our normal mode of thinking, to think of new ways to make things work.
Consider:
When we have a small home, we must find new ways of living within that small space, instead of being lazy and doing whatever we want with lots of space.
When we must use fewer words, we must choose them wisely, instead of spilling them out carelessly.
When we eat fewer calories, we must choose more nutritious and yet tasteful foods, to make them count.
When we have less storage space, we must choose only the most important things, and make do with less.
When we limit ourselves to four sentences per email, we must say the essential, creatively.
I could go on all day, but that would be contrary to my point. What constraints can you place on yourself, and how can you work creatively with them?
This posting is from MMlist, a blog by Leo Babauta.
On this site, I embrace a 400-word limit (unless it doesn’t make sense). It forces me to be concise, to focus on smaller topics, to choose the important, to be creative.
Yes: constraints force us to be creative.
Often, constraints, limitations, are seen as a negative, but to me they’re a feature. They might restrict freedom and force sacrifices, sure, but they also force us to choose. And to work within and around the constraints.
When we must work within limits, we have to figure out how to make those work. This forces us to think outside our normal mode of thinking, to think of new ways to make things work.
Consider:
When we have a small home, we must find new ways of living within that small space, instead of being lazy and doing whatever we want with lots of space.
When we must use fewer words, we must choose them wisely, instead of spilling them out carelessly.
When we eat fewer calories, we must choose more nutritious and yet tasteful foods, to make them count.
When we have less storage space, we must choose only the most important things, and make do with less.
When we limit ourselves to four sentences per email, we must say the essential, creatively.
I could go on all day, but that would be contrary to my point. What constraints can you place on yourself, and how can you work creatively with them?
This posting is from MMlist, a blog by Leo Babauta.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
