Author: Patrick O'Kelley

Last week on a flight home, I finished Goodbye, Things: The New Japanese Minimalism by Fumio Sasaki. I’ve read a few books on minimalism, but this one is different.

Sasaki is what I would call a radical minimalist. He started by de-cluttering but eventually pushed himself to reduce, for example, to a single, small towel. He likes the way the inconvenience makes him conscious of what a pleasure a full-sized towel is.

He has so few things that he was able to pack all of his belongings for a move in 30 minutes.

He loves the fact that having so few things removes fear: his fear of things being stolen, his fear of his things getting broken, his fear of his things falling on him in an earthquake.

He’s not an anti-materialist. He’s a huge fan of Steve Jobs and Apple products. He sees that these material items actually replace many, many things, making more simplicity possible. And he finds Apple products to embody an inspiring, minimalist aesthetic, one that calms his mind.

Sasaki’s minimalism has become a kind of spiritual practice. His minimalism led him to Zen and meditation, and he has created his own daily ritual of cleaning.

Having so few things de-clutters his mind, too, he says. He finds that he has many fewer pulls on his attention.

Lastly, he found that making the leap to get rid of his collections also helped him become aware of his ego. He started to see how he had constructed  his identity through stacks of books and cameras, collections he created, he realized, to impress people. Shedding things gets him, and all of us, back to our simple, true self.

Ultimately, he finds that he is able to be present now much more than before.

All of this has led me to look at minimalism now, too, in this deeper way — getting to a place where I’m ok with a little inconvenience if my needs can be met by fewer things. I’m beginning the process of shedding the obvious things — my own piles of excess books and games and clothes, for example (I like Leo Babauta‘s idea of having only as many books as you can read in one year).

But I’m starting to look at the conveniences to. I don’t need an iPhone and and iPad. It’s more convenient to read on that iPad, but its also just another thing that has to have its own place, has to be charged, has to be updated, has to be fixed. Is it really “convenient”?

Can I get to a place where I can pack for a move in 30 minutes? Probably not, but the idea is certainly making me think differently about my “stuff.” This radical minimalism is the modern version of “two robes and one bowl,” the traditional possessions for a Zen monk. What would it feel like to be that free?

I usually take a backpack when I travel, and over the last few years I’ve learned to slim down what I take so that I don’t have any checked bags — even for trips of 2 weeks.

For Thanksgiving this year, though, we took our Toyota Highlander Hybrid (already a compromise to my low impact goals) to see my brother and his family in Berkeley. Since we had the extra space, I decided I was going to just pack a suitcase. And once I started with that, I decided to take my PS4 and Switch to play some of the new games that had come out. I had carrying cases for both that I had never used and was feeling the weight of the sunk cost.

I brought running clothes and hiking stuff and city “dress” clothes for our urban days in Portland and San Francisco. I had my phone, of course, and my laptop (and power cords for all of those electronics). I even brought a small stack of books (despite my e-book reader) which I added to at Powell’s.

It makes me stressed now even writing about this. Day by day, I realized how much time I was spending managing all this stuff. I had to make 2-3 trips to unpack each time we stopped in a new place. I had to worry when we had to leave the car parked in a “bad” area for fear that someone would break a window in an attempt to grab my console. I had to sweep our Airbnb a few times to make sure I hadn’t left anything behind.

And then, once in Berkeley, I found myself making excuses to get my PS4 set up (“lt would be a waste to bring it all that way and not use it” and “Brian will want to see this game!”). I fiddled for 2 hours that I could have spent with family … all to get about 20 minutes of gameplay.

On the drive home, I realized how having all that stuff had actually made the trip so much worse. I was distracted and unhappy with the weight of all of the things. I apologized to my wife.

And as we drive across Northern California and then Oregon, I realized how this whole trip was a microcosm of my life — weighted down and distracted by unnecessary things.

So planning for a week long trip overseas a couple of weeks later, I went searching for wisdom about traveling light and found Leo Babauta’s useful little book, Traveling Light, on that very subject. I love Zen Habits, and I devoured the book on the eve of my flight. Leo’s advice got me to pair down to the lightest pack I think I’ve ever had on a trip. A few key tips:

1. I’m bringing synthetics so I can wash my underwear and t-shirts each night and know they’ll dry by morning. That reduced me to only 3-4 pairs of each.
2. I slimmed down to just an iPad and phone.
3. I pre-loaded books and movies and articles on the iPad so I don’t need to buy anything and don’t need to think much about what I’m going to read or watch.
4. I’m wearing the only shoes I need — black Nike Metcons that can pass as casual work shoes but also can be worn for a run or workout.
5. I’m wearing the only jacket I need (like Leo, I always carry a light rain shell).

Mine is a business trip, so I did need to bring button down shirts, but I had a synthetic one that allowed me to trim down my load. I do want to try Leo’s uniform idea, though, for my next family trip.

I’ve always found traveling to be a time for me to reflect, take stock, and make pivots in my life. It’s funny how these two trips are, I realize, giving me a chance to experiment with more fully embracing the wisdom of minimalism. It’s not a fad. I can feel how the lightness of my load brings a lightness in my attitude. I feel more free.

Strangely, I realize, it was the too abundant choices that caused me stress on my Thanksgiving trip. The things created obligations on my time, besides the physical burden.

Now, I’m looking at embracing this light traveling as a daily way of life. Could I get this same lightness by just shedding all of the superfluous devices and clothes and books? We’ll see.

There are lots of blogs that explore topics related to optimal living — experiments in health, fitness, and productivity. I thought it would be interesting to explore pathways to a meaningful life by looking at the ideas of wise men and women, ancient and modern using that same experimental mindset.

I want to explore spiritual practices and habits that have demonstrated success in building joyful, meaningful, moral, good human lives.

I intend to look for people and communities who are exemplary, and then I want to work backwards to the lives practitioners have lived, the practices they used, and the beliefs and principles underpinning them.

I’ll unpack what each of the words — joyful, meaningful, moral, good —means for me. These are the foundation, but there will be aspects of spirituality I will look at, too, like care of the body, foodways, community, beauty, history.

Over the years, I’ve found useful teachings from all of the major religions. That means, inevitably, I’ll run into practices that are tied to specific belief systems that I don’t share. I intend to bring an open mind to each new tradition. I want to understand how those beliefs came to be and why they are meaningful to the people, traditions, and communities I profile.

Most of us are raised in a tradition of some kind without exposure to the rich diversity of spiritual practices in the world. You, like me, may have grown apart from the tradition of your upbringing. If so, you probably feel the absence that comes without grounding in ritual and community that connects us to our better selves. My experience is that most people need a spiritual practice. We need, as adults, to rediscover the tradition of our upbringing and make it new, or we need to find a new path … or make one.

I want to help you build your own spiritual life and practice by exposing you to the many practices in the world.

What traditions do I bring to the table? I’ve been a spiritual experimentalist for most of my life. I was raised in the Catholic Church, but my family wasn’t particularly devout (other than my grandfather, an amazing person I will write about here at some point). As a high school student, I read Roshi Phillip Kapleau’s Three Pillars of Zen, the Dhammapada, the Upanishads, Lao Tzu, Confucius, and parts of the Koran. These books opened my mind to people and ideas that shook me out of my sheltered Minnesota worldview and invited me to move beyond books into practice. I’ve practiced meditation and prayer with Jewish people, have dined with Hare Krishnas, have attended mass at St. Peter’s Basilica, debated with Unitarians, and have sat with Zen and Tibetan Buddhists. I was starting down a path I’ve never left, trying to answer two questions:

1. What is the purpose of a human life?
2. What is the best way to live?

What I’ve learned so far is that there are many really good answers to these questions. There are many paths that lead to a life well lived, a meaningful life, and there are more to be created. Religions are spiritual but also human, and they evolve over time. I hope you’ll join me on, let me know what you think, and offer me your own suggestions.

A final note: This blog is not cultural tourism. I have found the many communities I’ve been a part of over the years to be welcoming to those who come with sincerity and respect. I hope to bring sincerity, respect, and curiosity to every post. Also, gratitude.

President Obama announced today an initiative to make e-books widely available to lower income students.  This is coupled with efforts to get Internet access to 99% of homes by 2018, the push to get library cards for all students, and the private sector drive (Apple) to get tablets into schools of low income neighborhoods. Of course, the degree to which these programs succeed in improving the baseline education of students in the United States will depend heavily on how the books are actually used in classes and how easily students can access them. But this set of conjoined initiatives seems like a real, tangible step towards using technology to improve lives. And, importantly for a democracy, it is a real, tangible step towards democratizing information.

“It’s important to make good decisions. But I spend much less time and energy worrying about ‘making the right decision’ and much more time and energy ensuring that any decision I make turns out right” –Sun Microsystems found and former CEO, Scott McNealy, as paraphrased by Ed Batista in “Stop Worrying About Making the Right Decision,” HBR OnPoint (Spring 2015)

Before there were good maps of the world and advanced navigation technologies, sailors often used dead reckoning to find their way across the oceans. With dead reckoning, the navigator embraces that there is no omniscient view of his or her position. Rather, the current position (and likely future position) is estimated using the direction and speed calculated since the last positional measurements were made. Such navigation requires constant vigilance — constant attention to day-to-day record keeping, charting of periodic updates, and evaluating the surrounding conditions (e.g. how might wind be impacting the currently set course?).

I’ve long found dead reckoning to be a useful metaphor to help explain what the best project managers actually do for technology innovation projects and creative projects — versus what some people think they do.

The fantasy of the omniscient navigator

Despite years of talk about scrum and agile processes, most company leaders, I believe, actually imagine that “good project management” is still some kind of perfect, omniscient pre-planning and execution.

In this view, it’s like a medieval king believing that his ancient mariner has a god-like GPS and detailed charts of the world. The king blesses his heroic ships as they leave the port, fantasizing that the crew will arrive on time, on budget, and “to spec” through Northwest Passage to the Indies … without even knowing if such a passage exists. They will all return home healthy, famous, and rich.

While it would be right for the king to hope for success with such a voyage, the rational king must know that there is great danger and great unpredictability for his sailing crew. Success, the king knows, really depends on the leadership of the captain and the skill of the navigator to make good decisions, day-by-day, in reaction to the changing conditions and new information that they glean during their voyage.

Projects plans with a high degree of advance predictive power are only those that are based on repetition of a process that has already been done at least twice. I say twice because you should always assume that the first iteration of any project was filled with iteration and exploration that was not necessary for the second iteration. It will be the second iteration (and subsequent iterations) of an identical project plan that will start to yield efficiencies. Indeed, it is during the second and subsequent iterations of a repeated process that the science of process optimization can be applied.

Thus, after the first attempts to find and explore the New World and passages to India variously succeeded and failed, commercial traders and colonizers stepped in and professionalized the Atlantic crossing “process.” Eventually, getting from England to New England became a fairly routine endeavor.

And, as a modern example, I always point out to my teams: Boeing is very good at building predictive plans for how it will ship its 100th plane in a series. But recent years have once again underlined that they are terrible at predicting how long it will take to make the first plane of a new type (see “Boeing 787 Dreamliner: a timeline of problems“).

The reality: the navigator’s dead reckoning

Why? Most creative or technology innovation projects — at least the projects worth doing — chart a wholly new course. Project managers for such projects are like the captain/navigator of those early Renaissance sea voyages.

There are no detailed maps and advanced technology to tell you exactly where you will be at each moment. Like the explorer setting out without a map and without a GPS — and with only a vague knowledge of where the far shore lies — you set off from the “port” and begin a day-to-day process of agile iteration towards the vision you want to create.

So much of good project management is the day-to-day adjustments to the project plan in response to new information and changing conditions. The initial “plan” is only useful as the starting point to navigation.

How to apply dead reckoning: agile

So, don’t fret too much about your plans to start. As Scott McNealy says in the opening quote, don’t spend too much time making your up-front decisions. Make your decisions — and then work like crazy to carry through your decision.

Really, I’m reinforcing why we need to use agile processes for technology innovation projects and creative projects (like games, films). Agile processes rely on getting a framework built to start (user stories, backlog, project team, general timeline, vision) and then applying the “dead reckoning” mindset: constantly evaluating course and speed and readjusting future projections based on the results of each fixed period of time — a sprint.

This dead-reckoning mindset relies on hardcore data collection, though, to be done well. Without collecting data, without conducting retrospectives, without constantly testing your project against your goals for quality and user experience, you are just sailing randomly across the ocean.

What makes for real navigation in a dead-reckoning mindset is constantly engaging the craftsmanship of project management — continuous intra-team communication, acceptance testing, usability studies, velocity metrics, backlog management. Without applying the tools constantly, iteratively, you are just sailing aimlessly according to your original plans — plans that fade more and more into the “there be dragons” territory at the edge of the map.

I especially want to emphasize metrics here. This is why I am not a huge fan of the pure sticky-note based brands of scrum. I always push for stories and tasks to be captured in a database that is collecting historic data. Quality project metrics are the equivalent of introducing inertial navigation technology to the principles of dead reckoning. With inertial navigation, navigators using dead-reckoning principles were able to predict much more accurately their future course.

Similarly, with quality project metrics collected for each project and each team member, you slowly build out a “map” for future projects. With project management research now showing that they best way to scope your next project is by comparing it to past projects (see Daniel Kahneman’s Thinking Fast and Slow for cases studies), your data is precious. It is the pathway to you becoming a master navigator.

In the last week, I’ve read two of Colin Wright’s books. He’s the blogger behind Exile Lifestyle and a promoter of living a remarkable life. He moves to a new country every four months as a way to create material for his blog — all in pursuit of an amazing, independent life.

Today, he turns 30.

I think he’s written 30 books. Some of them are short, $.99 e-books. But, still. 30 books. I feel funny at times taking life advice from a young man, but he’s a brave explorer. He deserves to be listened to, having learned so early to avoid a life of “quiet desperation.”

What I intend to explore in this blog is a range of paths for “being remarkable” (Mr. Wright’s phrase). This isn’t about fame or fortune. For me, those aren’t the goals. And if you are reading this, I bet they aren’t your primary goals either. Once you have enough to feed and clothe and house yourself comfortably, you want something more. But it isn’t more stuff. It’s something different.

This blog isn’t about rejecting all possession, all technology and becoming Amish. Science and technology have made human lives better. Being materially comfortable is a blessing.

What I’ll be exploring here: how to be happy and how to live well while — how to steer a “middle path” that uses the best information available to manage yourself in a world teeming with new (and conflicting!) advice and new gadgets promising life-changing results.

My goal will be to test-drive each new lifestyle idea, each new habit, evaluate it, and then share the experience. And I’ll encourage you to test-drive each one, too, before you make a commitment.

You don’t have to move to a new, exotic location every four months like Colin Wright to live a rich life (though it is certainly one very cool path!). But you do have to understand what you really want out of life, what really makes you happy, and how to pursue it. Hopefully these explorations in living will help.