Posts Tagged ‘kung fu’

One of the things that started me thinking along the lines of “Reconcilable Differences” was a pretty firm case of “Context Matters” with a sprinkling of “Language is Hard”. I was working on Triangle Pose (Trikanasana) in yoga and the teacher kept telling me to isolate my upper body. Well in the competition dancing that I did as a youngster, the phrase “upper body isolation” was almost always used to refer to making your ribs go in the opposite direction from your hips. This is of course different in different kinds of dances, but for the kind of dancing that I did, it was a core enough concept that this kind of upper body isolation was part of my routine warm-up.

So when I heard a very similar phrase in yoga I immediately started moving my chest away from my upward hip, which body-feel-wise was amazingly close to the Latin dancing upper body isolation that I’ve done a million times. And of course, that was the exact opposite of what the teacher intended. In order to achieve Trikanasana, the chest has to be aligned with the upward hip and by moving it away I was making the problem worse. After several repetitions and a physical correction from a very patient teacher, I figured out my mistake. And since I have spent a lot of time doing “upper body isolations” I was able to make a good deal of progress quickly once I understood the issue, although this is still really hard. And dealing with nuances of language that have been heavily skewed by years of dance while trying to hold yoga poses is still really hard too, but it is really cool when something filters through my excessively think skull.

And while I’m thinking about dance and “Context Matters,” I have to relay my very favorite example. It is in the different ways that one “Partners” in ballroom dancing and Kung Fu. In Ballroom, the lead (which is the role I danced nearly exclusively) does everything possible to project to his partner where he is going. This is very very important to avoid foot trampling and other unfortunate incidents. But when sparring, you want to do everything possible to prevent your partner from knowing what you are about to do. This is very very important to avoid injury and humiliation even in a ‘friendly’ sparring situation. So I guess it’s a measure of my insanity that I actually went back and forth between doing these two kinds of partnering for years. Perhaps I should have switch to following in dance?

So while drawing on past (or even present) experience that seems relevant to what I’m currently working on is useful, understanding where they are different is equally important.  And of course language always matters!

Note: If you just stumbled upon this post, it’s part of a loose series. There is no need to read the whole thing, but you might want to scan this post for context.

One of the things that I value most about teachers of physical skills is where they are able to translate their knowledge to the context of my body. I’m a middle aged man who did nothing at all resembling physical activity from for my teens and early twenties, I’ll never have the same kind of physique as even a middle aged man who kept in shape his entire life.

So what are some of the differences in body type that have affected my practice of Kung Fu, Yoga, Dance, etc.?

Age, sex, muscle mass, stretchiness (there’s got to be a better word for this one), proportion of length of arm to length of leg, difference in core strength, proportion of torso to limbs, lots of other internal proportions, nimbleness of ankles, proportion of my height to my partner’s in partner dancing, proportion of my everything to my partner’s when sparring. Okay, I’m getting the bit off more than I can chew sensation again. But let’s see if I can take a couple of these to illustrate and I may have to come back to this list later.

The incident that spurred this line of thought was in yoga class. The (female) teacher was taking the class through a pose that was fairly new to the series that the school is putting together – the finger stand pose – (if anyone can tell me what the sanskrit name for that pose, I’d appreciate it). The way this teacher had been teaching the pose previously was to advise people to work their hips up and back between their hands until they could kind of fall into their hands an lift their legs. The last time she taught it though, she gave an alternative of thrusting your hips back and using the momentum to pull your legs up. When I asked her about it after class, she said that she added the alternative because a male student noted that he was incapable of doing the particular hip contortion that was necessary to manage the first variation.

But I do worry that male/female differences in yoga practice in particular can be overlearned. My favorite counter-example is Urdhva Dhanurasana (upward bow pose) – my sister used to do this all the time when we were growing up. I tried it a couple of times and failed (when I was 5 or 6) and assumed that it was something that was just easier for girls so just gave up. But that particular pose was introduced recently in a class and not only could I do it, but it feels really good. Beware of overlearning.

Another body type of difference that has been top of mind recently is the proportion of heights when partner dancing. Mrs. Reboot and I have been taking various forms of beginning swing lessons recently (East Coast, West Coast, Lindy) where holds are relatively loose and substantial height difference can pretty easily accommodated. We’re taking group classes where you might end up dancing with twenty partners of radically different heights during the course of the class. It is amazing to see the number of leads who lift their hands the same amount (or at least try to)when turning a sub five foot tall follow as a six foot tall follow. And then the worst variation of that is when they blame the follows on the extreme end of the height spectrum for not doing something right (I’m not quite sure what the “something right” is in their heads). But one of the great things about taking a group class like that is being able to quickly go through the various adjustments one can make to accommodate partners of different heights.

An alternative for a specific activity might be to find a coach who is as close to my type as possible. That’s never worked very well for me. Possibly in part because that tends to poke at my competitive instincts, but also the matrix of differences is so big that I’m not sure it’s really feasible to find that kind of match in all dimensions. So that brings me back to valuing coaches who can do the translation from their type to mine. And where partners/fellow students are involved both observing and learning from what they can do differently based on their physical differences.

One of the things that I’ve been struggling the most with in my attempt to teach programming to high school students is to get them to experiment.  This is particularly hard for me because when I learned to program I had no formal instruction for the first four years, so experimenting was by far the most used tool in my toolbox.

Because of this I’ve been emphasizing that there are many different ways to do things and showing (or getting the students to demonstrate) different solutions wherever I can.  And then I try to get them to compare the solutions again emphasizing that they both solve the problem and where each solution has advantages and dis-advantages.  But in so many cases, they seem to get into a mindset of doing something the ‘right’ way and then they get stuck.

As I was settling into yoga practice this morning, the teacher said something that really connected with me.  We were doing Child’s Pose, which for this style of yoga is one of the most basic and oft-repeated poses.  As such, you kind of feel like you know it after the first class.  But even though there weren’t any new students in class, she spent a couple of minutes encouraging us to experiment with the pose, settling differently in the hips, holding the hands wider or narrower, same with the feet, etc.  Because even in the most simple things, you can train yourself to do them more effectively.

That, of course, led me down the path of other physical training I’ve done including Kung Fu and dancing and marking patterns in how things are taught and how I learn them.  I’m not going to attempt to dump all of the details, but whenever I’ve found a teacher that takes the approach of “your body and your background is different than mine, so let’s try this a bunch of different ways until we land on something that works” I learn much more than the “this is the way it’s done and I’m very successful doing it this way, so let’s get you doing it exactly this way and you’ll be successful too” type of teacher.

So how does this relate to programming?  I’m pretty sure it’s almost the same concept.  For instance, almost any language has a bunch of looping constructs and you use them differently for different tasks and there are plenty of ways that you change up how each of those constructs are used depending on any given task.  And of course as anyone who’s worked with programmers for any period of time knows, there will be endless debates about what the ‘best’ way to solve a particular problem is, with the line often blurring between style and function.  Which is almost a direct parallel to conversations I’ve had with martial artists and ballroom dancers, now that I think about it.

And while I don’t think many of my 15 year old students spend a lot of time practicing yoga (or ballroom dancing, or Kung Fu), I suspect some of them have trained in high school sports like basketball and soccer.  And it seems like the same concept would apply.  Does anyone out there have a good example I can use in a more familiar (to a 15 year old) sport?  Or thoughts on how to draw such a story out of the aforementioned 15 year olds?

But whatever.  I was definitely walking the line that could land me in front of the yoga studio pulling at a locked door.I was running a bit late to make it to yoga this morning.  For no particular reason.  I had done some speed reading and Spanish studying and was catching up on email and just lost track of time.  But whatever, I was definitely walking the line that I might end up in front of the yoga studio pulling at a locked door.  So it’s not like I hyperventilated or anything.  But I was definitely and obviously a visible ball of stress when I walked in the door.  And I had forgotten my yoga mat.  You know, one of those things that is pretty essential for the yoga practice.  Fortunately I had just forgotten it in the car and was actually early enough to run back before the door was locked.

But of course the point is not that I spaced out and had a close call in making it to yoga this morning.  At just about every level I realize that missing a particular yoga class is in no way going to affect the scheme of things in my life or in the lives of others.  Really.  I mean that.  But my fight or flight mechanisms definitely kicked in an didn’t stop until I was sitting on the mat in the studio.  This is definitely not an optimal way to live life.  And not only does it take some time off my life every time this happens, but those around me have to deal with the crazy person who is not quite hyperventilating for no apparent reason.

This isn’t a new thing, of course.  But my hope was that after a decent part of a year without exercising that particular set of muscles they would atrophy and fall away.  I guess that does make me an eternal optimist.  Since that didn’t happen it’s probably time to check in on that particular aspect of my life.

I think that one of the reasons that this particular reaction is so ingrained is that it actually worked for me in my early days as a software engineer in a naturally high stress job.  Here’s how it went.  Something would happen at work that blocked progress and caused stress.  This could be anything from finding a nasty bug to get a crushing flame mail from a highly placed moron elsewhere in the company.  I would grab one of the other guys that I worked with that smoked (or chewed) and we’d head out for a cigarette (or two).  That would bring the stress level down to a low roar, I would have the opportunity to talk through the issue with someone I trusted (after all as a smoker, you trust all other smokers, right?) and then I’d use the combination of the slightly dulled stress reaction and the nicotine buzz to power through the next couple of hours, no matter what time of day or night it was.

Now of course I have no desire to start smoking again and honestly there are so many things wrong with that picture at so many levels that I bring it up only as a way of digging into why I react the way I do now.  I believe there are some things about that scenario that can be useful without dragging in nasty smelly habits.  For instance, one of the aspects of smoking that I have seen batted around in a number of places is that for people who for whatever reason aren’t great breathers, smoking helps them remember to draw deep breaths.  So figuring out a way to naturally breathe deeply when something unexpected and possibly stress inducing happens is probably a good lesson to take away.  I spent a considerable number of years sparring (as in kung fu fighting) and while I was never great, I learned in that context to breath rather than hyperventilate or hold my breath when someone came at me with fists and feet.  So I can certainly do this in non-smoking situations, again the key here is to generalize a recognized ‘cure’ so that I do it naturally in all situations.

Another lesson to learn from my early pattern is that talking through a stressful issue with a trusted friend is often the best way to deal with it.  And you don’t have to go outside or down to the garage to have that kind of talk (if you don’t need to light up a cigarette).

The final aspect of that situation was the ability to channel the stress energy into constructive work.  I did a lot of constructive work in those days.  I can’t quite figure out how to translate that into my current healthier lifestyle.  Perhaps yoga and other things will help me have better energy and be more productive in general?  Any thoughts?

In any case, I’m going to try to change my default setting to mellow but dangerous, so watch out world!

On the face of this it is probably one of the weirder ideas that I’ve had recently (and the bar is pretty high).  But please bear with me, if I can get this across I think it sheds some light on some of the body consciousness aspects of yoga and exercise in general that I’ve been trying to get a handle on.  And by some strange coincidence I was recently listening to a man that managed The Grateful Dead for twenty-five years talk about that  experience – and his refrain was (paraphrased) – It was the weirdest thing, but weird can be good.  So hopefully this is some good weird.

I’ve been reading this book about debugging, which purports to be a generalized book about how to debug problems of both design and implementation in technical systems as well as more generally.  I’ll post more about it if it holds up to its promise.  In any case it got me thinking about applying my own pretty highly refined but also very specialized diagnostics experience to the domain of learning and refining yoga poses.

And then, coincidently, I ended up in a very crowded Bikram yoga class over Memorial Day Weekend and was in a position where I could not always see myself in the mirror and even when I could there was a seam in the mirror that was distracting.   Which got me to thinking about how I use the mirror when learning to exercise.  Now this isn’t particularly profound in and of itself, but it is a way to see if I’m standing straight and how limbs are aligned with respect to my body and the room around me.   But in Bikram studios in particular you generally have a mirror in front of you but not to your sides or behind you, and the class is run in a way that discourages one from moving around to, for instance, see a side angle of one’s self in a particular pose.

Now switch back to the high tech world. I’ve spent the majority of my professional career writing programs that are generally classified as diagnostic tools, and a good chunk of that time on a kind of program that is actually called a debugger (I still get a kick out of that term).   Debuggers (and other diagnostics tools) generally allow a programmer to look at some part of the internal state of a program while it is running or records that state and lets you look at it later.  Thank you any non-techies who have actually stuck with me this far, I appreciate your patience. At this point I hope everyone can see that there is a pretty obvious parallel between a mirror (or for that matter a video camera) when debugging a physical skill and a debugger (or profiler) when debugging a program.

The thing that makes the parallel interesting to me though is that there are some (for myself) well internalized caveats with using a debugger or other diagnostic tools to find a bug in a program that translate over to the use of debugging tools like mirrors and video cameras when learning a physical skill.

First and foremost is that while these tools (in both domains) are incredibly useful, getting too dependent on them may restrict your ability to actually master the skill.  In the case of programming, being able to catch an error in the debugger and blindly fix it is not a substitute for actually understanding how your code works, as this is an excellent way to introduce regressions.  In the case of yoga (or Kung Fu or Dance), depending on a mirror to help with a pose may interfere with thinking deeply enough about how your body is working because you’re depending on the surface level understanding that is, literally, right in front of you.  So you might, for instance, get yourself into a situation where you can’t figure out if you are standing up straight, as I noted in my post on overlearning.   I believe this is why the very traditional Kung Fu school that I studied at for many years had a dearth of mirrors.

Then there is the issue that if you’ve become dependent on a particular tool to diagnose issues with your program, you will inevitably run into a situation where the tool won’t help.  Whether that’s because it’s not available on the machine where the bug is reproduced or any of a dozen other reasons, there is some variation of Murphy’s law that states that this will happen when your job is on the line.  And of course I lead with why this is true for yoga – even in a very standardized Bikram environment there will be times when you just can’t see yourself well in the mirror, should that be a reason for your practice to suffer?

So where does that land me?  Well, I’m not entirely certain.  But I think that for now I will take it as validation that at least some parts of my brain that have perhaps been overdeveloped in one domain can actually be useful in new domains.  Because what I’m really trying to do here is optimize my ability to learn in general, so it seems that some kind of cross domain transfer is an essential part of the process.

I’m not quite sure why tap is doing this to me.  I really did just throw in this particular skill as an afterthought in my curriculum more because I’d like to have fun hoofing with my lovely wife if and when I make it close to her league rather than as one of my initial big chunks of brain re-trainings like language or music.  But for whatever reason things in my broader agenda keep clicking while in tap class.  So here is another installment of what I learned in tap this week that is only tangentially related to the dance form.

The teacher asked us to turn our backs on him and he tapped out a rhythm.  We were then asked to do our best to copy the sounds that he created using any technique that we knew.  He started out with extremely simple examples and when he got to just plain simple which resulted in total cacophony from the class, he stopped.  But he explained that this was a way of learning to improvise.  In the tap sense it’s pretty close to some of the ear training that I’ve been doing in music.  And of course back in my youth I really liked the concept of jazz improvisation, but was never all that great at it – probably because I didn’t spend enough time with ear training and building my vocabulary.

Did I just say vocabulary?  Yes, I did!  The thing that really connects everything together for me was that the teacher went on to describe how he thought of improvisation in tap.  He said it felt like learning to speak a language.  Your objective isn’t to figure out the sentence that you’re going to say ahead of time, mapping out the whole structure and then spitting it out.  The idea is that you should have a working vocabulary that is rich enough and natural enough that you can just start talking and you form the thought as you go.  Dance, music, language, choreography, sight reading, speed reading, writing, composing – the same brain does all of these things.  Maybe training in one is actually going to help others.  Who woulda thunk?

I’ve been thinking quite a bit about breadth first vs. depth first learning and skill acquisition.  The terms are from graph theory and are used with reference to tree traversal.  If they don’t immediately resonate with you, take a quick look at the graphs on the right hand side of the breadth-first and depth-first search Wikipedia pages – just walk through the nodes in the order of the numbers, that will give you a  good visualization of the conceptual difference between the two.  In any case, the idea that I’m trying to convey here is that I have been a radically depth first person in both work and life.  But now I’m reversing course and going pretty extremely breadth first and I have to admit that it’s freaking me out a bit.

My depth first work:

I got my first job at 13 as a sales and support person at an Apple computer store.  I was lucky enough to land a college work study job writing music theory software for the Macintosh.  I haven’t held a single job since that isn’t computer related.  And furthermore, of my twenty-odd year professional career a clear majority of that time has been spent developing a specific category of programs (debuggers, profilers, and other diagnostics tools).  I have occasionally toyed with trying some kind of service job just to round out my resume, but I don’t really think that will happen.

My depth first life:

When I started doing something other than work in my mid-twenties, I jumped straight into Ballroom dance.  I spent the better part of a decade dancing many hours a week and competed at several different amateur levels.  Ballroom is actually a fairly broad category.   My first year of trying to learn how to dance I took a conventional route of trying to learn a breadth of different dances (Foxtrot, Rhumba, Waltz, Swing, Cha-Cha).  That didn’t work at all for me.  It was only when my teacher convinced me to do an exhibition routine that was entirely swing that I clicked.  I eventually broadened out and learned more competitive and social dance styles, but it was definitely a key to start with one and learn it to a certain level before attempting a second one.

I then took up Kung Fu and spent 2+ hours 2 to 3 times a week in class, plus quite a few Friday evenings learning lion dance, plus time on my own, which was non-trivial although probably not nearly as much as I should have.  Again, I did this for the better part of a decade.  Then I took up yoga – again 2-3 times a week for about 5 years now.  For those of you that may know my age and are trying to do the math, there was some overlap on either end of Kung-Fu.  I’m not quite that old.

In any case,  I’ve generally only practiced one or two hobbies at a time and have practiced them intensely.  And I’ve gotten reasonably good at them.  I always take it as a compliment when other students mistake me for a teacher and a further compliment when another teacher makes that assumption, and that has happened in all three of my depth first hobbies on many occassions.

Switching to Breadth First:

Now of course, without a full time job, I could probably manage a few depth first activities at the level that I was previously maintaining one while working full time.  And at some level that’s what I thought I was going to do when I started this adventure.  But it really isn’t how things feel at this point.  Take, for instance, music.  I set out to learn to play the piano this year.  But when it came right down to it I wanted to take a broader look at music.  So I am playing the piano every day.  But I am also running through an ear training course.  And I just started a singing course as well.  My old self would have allocated more time to piano and not broadened into other music related things until I felt pretty comfortable with my basic keyboard skills.  But I think there is some real value in broadening out earlier.  So we’ll see how that goes.

Of course the music thing is a pretty limited example.  One could make the argument that what I’m really doing is some kind of depth first traversal of a redefined domain.

But then there  is the Spanish thing.  And the tap thing.  And I’ve started learning a different kind of yoga.  And re-learning programming.  And speed reading.  And writing – both this blog and taking a creative writing course.  And there are the dozen other things that I want to start doing this year but haven’t gotten traction on yet.  For instance, I’d like to play with memory techniques.  I would like to take a run at Toastmasters.  I would like to improve my typing speed (and/or learn Dvorak).  I would like to take a run at writing fiction.  And the list goes on.

I’m hoping at the least that trying a bit of breadth first will help with my primary goal of learning and acquiring skills faster, as measured by the net number of hours spent.  I’ll be sure to report back soon.

I’ve been thinking quite a bit about focus lately.  It’s one of those things that I started thinking about  a bit a while back and is now popping up at every turn.  I’ve generally been very good about being able to focus in very closely on a task, but I’m now convinced that this is an overlearned skill, at least for me.  Or perhaps it’s a borderline hyperfocus issue, although I really do try to avoid self-diagnosing psychological disorders, otherwise I’d drive myself crazy.

There are about a dozen aspects of this concepts flying through my head (so much for being overly focused), but lets start with three.

Speed Reading:

I am interested in increasing my reading speed.  I mean, geeze, there are like a million fiction books on my to read list and then there is all of the technical reading that I can’t seem to keep up with.  And that doesn’t even count getting lost in the internets for extended periods of time.

One of the techniques I’ve seen that makes a lot of sense is to learn to scan down the page rather then scanning each line horizontally.  This would involve learning to de-focus enough that you register an entire line at a time.  Now to add a bit of weight to this idea, one of the fastest readers I know says that when reading a old fashioned paper book (remember those), she would routinely register spelling errors on the right hand page while she was still reading the left hand page.  Pretty impressive, no?  In any case, I’ll take that as at least anecdotal evidence that a particularly speedy reader is utilizing a wider focus than I.

Sparring:

I spent nearly a decade practicing Kung Fu.  One of the core skills is to be able to spar.  It was never my favorite part of the class, I was much more interested in learning forms – the choreographed set of movements that at least in theory one could then decouple and use whilst sparring.  In any case, while I was never great at sparring and I’ve heard many times that some people are ‘fast-twitch’ and some are ‘slow-twitch’, one thing that really helped was to defocus my eyes.  Just look at in the general direction of the person I was sparring, not at any particular part of them.  Or looking at it slightly differently, focusing too much on a particular aspect of your opponent is a really good way to miss some other part of him or her heading your way.

Sight Reading:

As I’ve mentioned before, I am diving back into music after half a lifetime  of not practicing.  Or perhaps I’m just sticking my toe in the water to check the temperature?  No, I’m pretty sure I’m doing a cannonball.  Anyway, one thing that I was never very good at was sight reading, so I’d like to correct that this time around.  Sight reading on the piano is quite a task.  Here’s just a very simple sample of  a piano staff with lyrics for those of you that don’t read music.

Piano Staff

The notes on and around the top five lines or treble clef are generally played by the right hand, the notes on the bottom five lines or bass clef are generally played by the left hand and the words in the middle are sung (okay, duh on the last part).  It’s not uncommon for a number of verses to be written in the middle so that the distance between the clefs is greater.  There is also a common variation where the melodic line and the lyrics are written out above the piano part, but I think that’s generally intended for someone other than the piano player to be reading.  It’s relatively easy once you’ve got the basics down to read any of the three components.   It’s a matter of practice to get fingers (or voice) to reproduce what is written.

The thing that I’m obsessing about right now though is the ability to follow all three things at the same time.  I know people who can do this cold, so it’s definitely humanely possible.  I have no doubt that there is a large component of practice in that ‘cold’ is a bit different for someone that has been reading music for decades than someone who is just starting (or restarting).  If for no other reason than that as a beginner focus has a tendency to shift to one’s hands on the keyboard and then all hell breaks loose. But it seems like there is some fundamental ability to track those three things slightly separated on the staff that I should be able to get to click.

So that’s where I am.  I need to figure out how to defocus.  I’ll probably not go back to sparring, but I am going to take another run at speed reading training to see if I can find a tool or program that works for me.  And I might take another pass at improving my touch typing speed while I’m at it.  After all there are all those books out there just begging to be read.

Where N is large 🙂

I’m taking the Month of October to unwind, sort out the house and start building my curriculum.   The relaxing and sorting out the house are pretty boring, so I’ll spare you the details on those.  But I’m interested in iterating over the curriculum part of the process.  Every time I have this discussion in person, a new suggestion comes up. So I’m interested to see if the internets will provide more ideas.

Because I am fundamentally a reductionist, I am going to divide my efforts into three broad categories.  One is large goals that I intend to spend something measurable in hours per week over the course of the year to achieve a specific objective.  Another is what I’m thinking of as tools and techniques – experimenting with different methods of learning on small things or specifically aiming at acquiring a particular skill that I believe will help my ability to execute on my larger goals.  The final category is the scatter-shot learning of anything that strikes my fancy.

Well that’s completely amorphous, you say?  Let’s dig a bit deeper.

I’ve already mentioned the top four big things:

  1. Learn a language – there are two major questions to answer here. The first is the language, I’m leaning towards Spanish, but some of the other contenders are Mandarin Chinese, Japanese, French, Latin, Gaelic, and Ancient Icelandic.  This certainly deserves at least one blog post of its own, so stay tuned. The second is technique. I’m not even sure where to start with a discussion on how to learn a language (although I’ve been accumulating ideas from various sources) so again, stay tuned.
  2. Music – While my initial measurable goal is to learn an instrument to some level of mastery, I’d also like to dig more into music theory and develop sight reading skills. Contenders here are piano, guitar, violin, clarinet, saxophone, ukulele, harmonica, vocals and upright bass.
  3. Programming – I’m not even going to try to attack this in a small paragraph.
  4. Writing – Well, let’s start with blogging, perhaps more will come of it.  Although I did just notice that nanowrimo is next month. Hmmm…

And some of the skills that I’m hoping to develop:

  • Speed reading
  • Memorization techniques
  • Analysis/Critique – If nothing else I am going to start reviewing books and teaching company courses that I read and listen to.
  • Math – there is certainly room for a ‘big’ learning subject here as well, but my initial interest is in exercising basic math skills to see if that help stretch my brain and make some other activities easier.
  • Physical skills – Keep doing yoga and dance and perhaps re-introduce an eastern martial art of some kind – I am certainly strongly planted in the strong body helps a strong mind camp.
  • Typing?

I’m not sure that the last category is actually a separate thing, but I’m including it as a reminder to myself to  strike a balance between a disciplined approach and making sure that I have a blast in the process.