The most frustrating part about this experience has been myself. For some reason, I thought when I transplanted myself here, changing my routine, my surroundings, and my interactions, I would miraculously become a different person. I was wrong and I'm glad I was wrong because my time over here has given me ample opportunities to learn more about who I am, but I can't help but be frustrated by the fact I am still plagued with the same problems I encounter in New York and Los Angeles.
Last week, upon the recommendation of a professor and a behavioral economist I had a drink with in Amsterdam, I read a phenomenal book called Scarcity. The book looks at the similar psychological ramifications of scarcity as it relates to many disparate fields such as money, time, and food. It theorizes that scarcity captures the mind and "taxes" an individual's bandwidth, the authors catch-all term for fluid intelligence and executive control (mental agility and impulse control). It's a fascinating thesis and is at the cutting edge of behavioral economics, a field in which I am interested further study. One of my favorite lines in the book is from when the authors, Sendhil Mullainathan and Eldar Shafir, reject the common perception of consumers in economics by saying "we do not make trade-offs using a careful cost-benefit calculus. We tunnel on managing scarcity both to our benefit and to our detriment."
In reading the book, I thought about what I am "scarce" in out here and I finally deduced that I am scarce of stimuli. I have my book, I have my computer (minus anything involving streaming), and I have my phone (which is now super broken) but besides that I only have myself. This has inspired me to do a lot of soul searching, thinking about the person I want to become and easy topics like that. It's a week or so ago that I wrote down the virtues I most value in myself and others which I have since sought to reflect in my actions.
To my delight, I'm using this time to productively develop myself into a better human being, but to my chagrin, I'm running out of the easy stuff to work on. As I chisel away at my mountain of self-improvement, I am constantly faced with my faults which, when encountered, send shock waves through my little progress so far. For example, if I believe each day I can be a different person, why do I have the same vices when I wake up each day?
I don't have any answers yet, but I have plenty of problems, so I'm committing the rest of my time over here in the Netherlands, which is vanishing impossibly quickly, to the hard stuff. No more dillydallying with "the person I want to be," I need to face the flaws I have right now and work on resolving them in a constructive way so I don't build on each day atop a broken foundation.
The one benefit of scarcity, in the authors' opinion, is the increase in focus it rewards a person: the call it the focus dividend. Acknowledging my scarcity of stimuli, I will invest my focus dividend in myself, reflecting on my flaws that have persisted through my life and how I can resolve them moving forward.
Here's to the last three weeks!
Last week, upon the recommendation of a professor and a behavioral economist I had a drink with in Amsterdam, I read a phenomenal book called Scarcity. The book looks at the similar psychological ramifications of scarcity as it relates to many disparate fields such as money, time, and food. It theorizes that scarcity captures the mind and "taxes" an individual's bandwidth, the authors catch-all term for fluid intelligence and executive control (mental agility and impulse control). It's a fascinating thesis and is at the cutting edge of behavioral economics, a field in which I am interested further study. One of my favorite lines in the book is from when the authors, Sendhil Mullainathan and Eldar Shafir, reject the common perception of consumers in economics by saying "we do not make trade-offs using a careful cost-benefit calculus. We tunnel on managing scarcity both to our benefit and to our detriment."
In reading the book, I thought about what I am "scarce" in out here and I finally deduced that I am scarce of stimuli. I have my book, I have my computer (minus anything involving streaming), and I have my phone (which is now super broken) but besides that I only have myself. This has inspired me to do a lot of soul searching, thinking about the person I want to become and easy topics like that. It's a week or so ago that I wrote down the virtues I most value in myself and others which I have since sought to reflect in my actions.
To my delight, I'm using this time to productively develop myself into a better human being, but to my chagrin, I'm running out of the easy stuff to work on. As I chisel away at my mountain of self-improvement, I am constantly faced with my faults which, when encountered, send shock waves through my little progress so far. For example, if I believe each day I can be a different person, why do I have the same vices when I wake up each day?
I don't have any answers yet, but I have plenty of problems, so I'm committing the rest of my time over here in the Netherlands, which is vanishing impossibly quickly, to the hard stuff. No more dillydallying with "the person I want to be," I need to face the flaws I have right now and work on resolving them in a constructive way so I don't build on each day atop a broken foundation.
The one benefit of scarcity, in the authors' opinion, is the increase in focus it rewards a person: the call it the focus dividend. Acknowledging my scarcity of stimuli, I will invest my focus dividend in myself, reflecting on my flaws that have persisted through my life and how I can resolve them moving forward.
Here's to the last three weeks!
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