An experiment this week…I uploaded the entirety of my letters into a GPT session, just for fun. I asked it to do a bunch of different things: extract the themes, give me a book outline that uses letters in clusters for each chapter, and write a description of my writing style. It’s somewhat humbling and fun to mess with (that chat is here: https://chatgpt.com/share/2e378606-41e1-4a45-b2ef-59f41a17974d)
The subject for this week’s letter is an observation I made at a music camp I was at this week. I’ll write my version of the letter and then I had that chat write it based on my writing style and letters. See which you prefer!
(BTW I am travelling next week. I might post but I’m on vacation so who knows?)
If You Look Closely Enough at Anything, You Can See the World (human version)
I spent some time this week at the CBA “Father’s day” music camp. This is a camp of acoustic music - bluegrass and old-time mostly. I got to spend the time taking classes from one of the best mandolin players in the world, John Reischmann.
We all asked all kinds of questions of John, but all of them were really “How do I be John Reischmann?”. The answer to that is obvious enough at some level - you don’t, he does - but I spent a lot of time observing and thinking about it. One thing that I noticed is something that is hard to really describe well but might be called “extreme presence and care”. John has a real calmness to him when he’s looking at a song, and every detail of every note clearly matters to him, completely. It’s almost as if it’s the only thing in the world when he’s focused on it. Not in an extreme, or difficult way, either - he’s just very calmly present and focused, every time.
Then on the drive home we listened to an interview of Yo Yo Ma by Terry Gross. And the same sense came from him, this idea of a high degree of calm, patient caring and attention. And then he said something - the title of this post. That if you focus enough on anything, you can see and understand the whole world in it, eventually. That was exactly the sense I had with John and what I was trying to identify.
I think anyone who makes anything has some of this in them. We aren’t all as good at it - my ADHD often gets in the way personally, and everyone has different skills and predilections. But I think, at some level, whether you make music, software, ceramics or something else, this is what you’re after - to see the world in the attention to the smallest things. It’s helpful (and wonderful) to witness it in someone who has climbed higher on the peak.
If You Look Closely Enough at Anything, You Can See the World (AI version)
In the intricate dance of existence, each moment, each object, and each interaction is a microcosm of the broader universe. This idea, deceptively simple, harbors profound truths about the nature of understanding, the beauty of detail, and the interconnectedness of all things. When we scrutinize even the smallest fragment of reality, we find reflections of the entire world.
Take, for example, a single leaf. At first glance, it’s a mere part of a tree, performing the mundane task of photosynthesis. Yet, as we delve deeper, layers of complexity unfold. The leaf's structure, with its veins and chloroplasts, mirrors the intricate networks we find in our societies, where each vein supports and sustains the whole. The process of photosynthesis, converting light into energy, echoes the transformative power of innovation in our own lives. From the leaf, we learn about adaptation, growth, and the delicate balance of ecosystems.
Similarly, consider a line of code. To the untrained eye, it’s just a series of characters, cryptic and cold. But to a programmer, it’s a symphony of logic and creativity. Each function call, each loop, reflects broader principles of problem-solving and design. It’s a testament to human ingenuity, the ability to create complex systems from simple instructions. This tiny fragment of digital reality encapsulates the essence of progress and the relentless pursuit of better solutions.
Looking closely at a conversation between friends, we see the subtleties of human connection. The words exchanged are laden with context, history, and emotion. They reveal the importance of communication, trust, and empathy. This microcosm of interaction teaches us about the fundamental needs of humans—to be understood, to belong, and to share experiences. It’s a reflection of our social nature and the intricate web of relationships that define our existence.
Even in failure, if examined with care, we uncover the seeds of success. A failed experiment is not just a setback but a rich source of learning. It tells a story of courage, curiosity, and the iterative process of discovery. It embodies the spirit of resilience, the willingness to try, fail, and try again. This perspective transforms failure from a point of shame to a stepping stone towards achievement.
In the philosophical realm, every question, no matter how trivial it seems, opens a window to the universe. Asking why the sky is blue leads to explorations of light scattering, atmospheric composition, and the interplay of physics and perception. It’s a reminder that curiosity, no matter how small, can lead to profound insights about the world around us and our place within it.
In essence, the world is a fractal, where each piece, no matter how minute, contains within it the patterns and principles of the whole. By looking closely at anything, we engage in a process of discovery that enriches our understanding and appreciation of life’s complexity. This perspective fosters a mindset of curiosity, humility, and wonder. It encourages us to find value in the details and to see the interconnectedness of all things.
In our pursuit of innovation and disruption, this approach becomes invaluable. It teaches us to appreciate the small wins, to learn from the minutiae, and to see the potential in every idea, no matter how insignificant it may seem. By embracing this detailed lens, we equip ourselves with the tools to navigate the broader challenges of the world, one step, one observation, at a time.
Ultimately, looking closely at anything doesn’t just reveal the world; it reveals our capacity to understand, to adapt, and to innovate. It’s a testament to the boundless potential of human curiosity and the infinite richness of the universe we inhabit.
I'd suggest switching the AI and human versions next time ;-)
Interesting -- but note that ChatGPT produced its output based only on the titles and categories of your letters, not on the actual content. You'd need to expand the letters into the context window to get content based on your actual writing. I'd be interested to hear what that does?