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I’m a long way from where I was and where I need to be
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 Thursday, March 16, 2017 • Issue 46
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Welcome to the Thursday Three – weekly finds for creative minds – just for you in your inbox every Thursday. If you’re reading this and not already subscribed, you can subscribe and view the Thursday Three archive here. If you're new, welcome! 

The podcasts were queued. The Contigo was full. The windows were down, and the destination was loaded into Apple Maps. The cotton-like cumulus clouds were picture-perfect against the bold blue sky. It even smelled like sunshine. It was the perfect day for a road trip.

I set off to visit my friend who lived a few hours away, and the drive was just as I had planned, well, until the final turn. As I drove down a winding country road with a cornfield on one side and a cornfield on the other – and nothing else – Siri proudly proclaimed, "Arrived."

I slowed the car to a crawl, and the crawl slowed to a stop. I looked again to my left and my right. Closed my eyes. Rubbed them. Opened them again. Looked again. Corn. Nothing but corn as far as the eye could see. Arrived, indeed – or something.

I was lost.

Siri told me I had arrived, but my elevated heart rate told me otherwise. It said, "You're vulnerable and panicky, and you have no control over the situation, and you're probably going to die." Where were Rand and McNally when I needed them?

Whether driving or in a dead end job or on that never ending quest for meaning and vitality, getting lost can be disorienting and disheartening. Sometimes you know exactly where you are. Other times you end up the middle of nowhere – surrounded by corn – with no idea what to do next.

But here’s the thing: If you don’t get a little lost, you can’t be found. So today's Thursday Three is about getting lost.


"Flight 815"  a 42-second sketch by Jennifer Moxley


+ The Stranger in the Woods

It's rare for me to get lost in a book. I can’t remember the last time I finished one in less than 24 hours, but that's exactly what happened this weekend with Michael Finkel’s The Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of the Last True Hermit (Amazonpublic library). It just released last week and tells the (true) story of Christopher Knight who, at age 20, left his home and vanished into the woods of Maine where he lived alone for 27 years. In that span, Knight said only one word aloud ("Hi"), went completely without human touch, and stole everything he needed from nearby vacationers, covering his tracks so he wouldn’t be found.

It’s a captivating story, well worth a read (or a listen), but if time is tight, this recent article from The Atlantic tells the story well.

Though the “stranger” in the title is Knight, one closes the book with the sense that Knight, like all seers, is the only sane person in a world gone insane – that modern civilization has made us strangers to ourselves.

If you want a little more before diving in, Finkel used this feature piece from GQ as the starting point for his book. It amounts to an extensive excerpt – complete with a diagram of Knight’s camp in the woods. I wouldn’t last two days out there.


+ Flow

I’ve listened to the podcast, Good Job, Brain!, for years. It’s one of my favorites. Each week, four trivia nerds sit around a table with microphones, quizzing each other and sharing their most recent trivia discoveries – all in an effort to train for their next pub trivia night. It’s a lot of fun. 

In their most recent episode, co-host Dana describes the psychological concept of “flow.” Flow is essentially  “being in the zone.” It’s getting lost in what you’re doing. It’s that near-transcendent state where time seems to stop because you’re firing on all cylinders, utilizing your talents, and working to overcome a surmountable challenge. “Flow” was named by psychologist Mihály Csíkszentmihályi and, he maintains, it’s the secret to happiness. 

In his study, Csíkszentmihályi interviewed creatives, CEOs, athletes, and others. He found that when their hard work was enjoyable – when they were enjoying the constant challenge of their work, getting lost in it – their priorities shifted. They cared less about ambition and less about financial success because the challenge of the work was satisfying in and of itself.

I don’t know that I would go so far as to say it’s the secret to happiness. I think there’s more to it and we’re often talking about different things when we talk about happiness. Still, the concept of flow is certainly intriguing. It's something I’ve experienced myself a handful of times – I just didn't know there was a name for it.

Click here to watch Csíkszentmihályi’s 2004 TED Talk on flow. (Or just read the transcript. Might be easier.) There’s also a book if you’re so inclined (Amazonpublic library). And if you want to learn more about Good Job, Brain!, subscribe in your favorite podcast app or follow them on Twitter here.


+ Maps

For Christians around the world, it’s the season of Lent – a time to clear out the cobwebs of our souls and clean out the junk drawers of our hearts as we prepare for Easter. It’s common in this season to give something up or take on a discipline as part of that work. This Lent, I’ve been working through Malcolm Guite’s excellent anthology, The Word in the Wilderness (Amazonpublic library). In it, Guite offers a poem a day for Lent and Easter – some contemporary and some classic. And after each poem, he shares a reflection about the piece. The book has been a meaningful companion along the journey, and Holly Ordway’s sonnet from last Thursday is especially fitting for today.

Antique maps, with curlicues of ink
As borders, framing what we know, like pages
From a book of travelers’ tales: look,
Here in the margin, tiny ships at sail.
No-nonsense maps from family trips: each state
Traced out in color-coded numbered highways,
A web of roads with labeled city-dots
Punctuating the route and its slow stories.
Now GPS puts me right at the center,
A Ptolemaic shift in my perspective.
Pinned where I am, right now, somewhere, I turn
And turn to orient myself. I have
Directions calculated, maps at hand:
Hopelessly lost till I look up at last.


BIG DEAL ALERT: The Thursday Three turns one tomorrow! I sent the first Thursday Three to three people on St. Patrick's Day last year. It's come a long way, and if you've had any part in reading, writing, podcasting, sketching, mixtaping, sharing, inspiring, encouraging, replying, or subscribing, THANK YOU.
 

Thank you for helping to make this year so special. I couldn't have done it without you. And, hey, if you want to give the Thursday Three another year, consider forwarding it to your friends or use the share, tweet, and forward buttons below. I'm grateful. Until next Thursday, don't be a stranger.
 

Peace,

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Copyright © 2017 Brent Levy, All rights reserved.


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