I believe that problems are solvable.

There’s all sorts of things that go into solving a problem. Some problems are simple, but then we solve them fairly quickly, and we don’t even really think of them as problems anymore. They become more like chores or tasks. So our list of problems typically is populated by the problems we don’t really know how to solve yet. (This itself is not really a problem unless we think of it as one.)

I like to describe problems as puzzles. I find it helps me have a more playful, light-hearted attitude as I approach them. A dour, morose solemnity rarely helps to solve an entrenched problem. Often I need something surprising, a fresh point of view, an alternate way of conceiving of the problem. Problems that persist tend to be misconceptualized.

The main puzzle in my life right now is a particular version of an all-time classic: how do I allocate my efforts in a way that is fruitful for me? I don’t want to bore you with extensive specifics, but in a sentence or two: I’m a full-time author juggling multiple projects, and I’m also full-time parent of a 14-month-old, and I also am in the midst of gearing up for moving house, which is an emotionally challenging ordeal. I keep trying to solve writing challenges, because that feels like the domain I’m most familiar with, but maybe that’s a mistake. Maybe I’m misdirecting my energy, maybe I should just focus on clearing my house.

What is the purpose of this space? Why do I have a substack at all? I already have a blog, I already have a twitter. Why not just blog and tweet more? Well. I have been extremely prolific on twitter, and I think lots of people would agree that I have been quite successful at it, along multiple dimensions. But in doing that I think I’ve bumped against the limits of what one can accomplish on twitter. I wrote about this in the tavern and the temple, but to restate it more plainly: the shape of twitter, the nature of twitter, is such that people simply don’t go there looking for really thoughtful contemplation. they’re mostly looking for bite-sized thoughts to engage with. which is great for its own sake, but trying to ask for contemplation on twitter is like going to a rowdy tavern and asking people to pray with you. You’ll get weird looks, you’ll get people laughing at you, you’ll get people feeling sorry for you. You have misunderstood the nature of the space.