When we watch someone do something, we think we can do it too: how hard can it be? But the reality is often very different.
The illusion of competence often equates to confidence. We don’t know what we don’t know.
The brain cannot leave raw information alone. Given a scattering of dots, it draws lines between them. Given noise, it hears a voice.
A story, which opens Malcolm Gladwell's Blink, is where I want to start, because it captures something a fourteen-month due-diligence process is structurally incapable of noticing about itself: it can be flawless and still be answering the wrong question. Logic needs the “gut” to decide…
The question our schools must answer is not whether children should be creative. They already are. The question is whether we will have the wisdom — and the courage — to stop educating it out of them
Art arrives by a different road entirely, bypassing the locked doors and finding the person still waiting inside. It is a small, quietly devastating observation, and it captures something that neuroscience has been methodically proving ever since: that engaging with art — making it, experiencing it, losing yourself in it — does something profound and measurable to the human brain.
Rituals help us to chain-link one thing to another as we move towards our chosen aim. The structure of routine comforts us, and the uniqueness of our own rituals focuses our attention on our personal goals.
By giving meaning to our routines, we decide where to place our attention and what we care about.