Zone1 Easily Distracted? You Need to Think Like a Medieval Monk

[Disir]

Medieval monks were, in many ways, the original LinkedIn power users. Earnest and with a knack for self-promotion, they loved to read and share inspiring stories of other early Christians who had shown remarkable commitment to their work. There was Sarah, who lived next to a river without ever once looking in its direction, such was her dedication to her faith. James prayed so intently during a snowstorm that he was buried in snow and had to be dug out by his neighbors.

But none of these early devotees could ward off distraction like Pachomius. The 4th-century monk weathered a parade of demons that transformed into naked women, rumbled the walls of his dwelling, and tried to make him laugh with elaborate comedy routines. Pachomius didn’t even glance in their direction. For early Christian writers, Pachomius and his ilk set a high bar for concentration that other monks aspired to match. These super-concentrators were the first millennium embodiment of #workgoals, #hustle, and #selfimprovement.

Even if you’re not beset by demons, it turns out there’s a lot that medieval monks can teach you about distraction. Our present-day worries about self-motivation and productivity might feel like the product of a world plagued by distracting technologies, but monks agonized about distraction in much the same way more than 1,500 years ago. They fretted about the demands of work and social ties, bemoaned the distractions presented by new technologies, and sought out inspiring routines that might help them live more productive lives. Forget Silicon Valley gurus. Could it be that early Christian monks are the productivity heroes we’ve been searching for all this time?

Easily Distracted? You Need to Think Like a Medieval Monk

Focusing wasn’t much easier in the time before electricity or on-demand TV. In fact, you probably have a lot in common with these super-distracted monks.

www.wired.co.uk

I know this is part promo for a book but it is really interesting. In fact, I might get that book.

 

[night_son]

Medieval monks were, in many ways, the original LinkedIn power users. Earnest and with a knack for self-promotion, they loved to read and share inspiring stories of other early Christians who had shown remarkable commitment to their work. There was Sarah, who lived next to a river without ever once looking in its direction, such was her dedication to her faith. James prayed so intently during a snowstorm that he was buried in snow and had to be dug out by his neighbors.

But none of these early devotees could ward off distraction like Pachomius. The 4th-century monk weathered a parade of demons that transformed into naked women, rumbled the walls of his dwelling, and tried to make him laugh with elaborate comedy routines. Pachomius didn’t even glance in their direction. For early Christian writers, Pachomius and his ilk set a high bar for concentration that other monks aspired to match. These super-concentrators were the first millennium embodiment of #workgoals, #hustle, and #selfimprovement.

Even if you’re not beset by demons, it turns out there’s a lot that medieval monks can teach you about distraction. Our present-day worries about self-motivation and productivity might feel like the product of a world plagued by distracting technologies, but monks agonized about distraction in much the same way more than 1,500 years ago. They fretted about the demands of work and social ties, bemoaned the distractions presented by new technologies, and sought out inspiring routines that might help them live more productive lives. Forget Silicon Valley gurus. Could it be that early Christian monks are the productivity heroes we’ve been searching for all this time?

Easily Distracted? You Need to Think Like a Medieval Monk

Focusing wasn’t much easier in the time before electricity or on-demand TV. In fact, you probably have a lot in common with these super-distracted monks.

www.wired.co.uk

I know this is part promo for a book but it is really interesting. In fact, I might get that book.

Whilst I very much appreciate the historical-philosophical-self-help references and mention, I also believe people worry far too much about, well, everything. We live in a world where the human herd at large is no longer lean, mean nor independently tasked with their own actual real-time survival. We've become one monolithic co-dependent, co-depressive lazy herd. We've come to depend on government, corporations, manufactures and tech wizards for our day-to-day survival, rather than rely on ourselves or our own resilience or resourcefulness. Thus, whenever I encounter these self-help "be more like some kind of historical Zen master" texts, I usually devolve into fits of cosmic laughter—cracking up at the modern vision of the human race in general. Ah well, in the end none of it at all will matter; the worms shall feast on our collective flesh no matter. My guess is we all taste the same . . . like chicken?

 

[Disir]

Whilst I very much appreciate the historical-philosophical-self-help references and mention, I also believe people worry far too much about, well, everything. We live in a world where the human herd at large is no longer lean, mean nor independently tasked with their own actual real-time survival. We've become one monolithic co-dependent, co-depressive lazy herd. We've come to depend on government, corporations, manufactures and tech wizards for our day-to-day survival, rather than rely on ourselves or our own resilience or resourcefulness. Thus, whenever I encounter these self-help "be more like some kind of historical Zen master" texts, I usually devolve into fits of cosmic laughter—cracking up at the modern vision of the human race in general. Ah well, in the end none of it at all will matter; the worms shall feast on our collective flesh no matter. My guess is we all taste the same . . . like chicken?

Hey, HEy, HEY! Stop killing my hope factor on humanity.

Do we taste like chicken?

 

[Magnus]

Medieval monks were, in many ways, the original LinkedIn power users. Earnest and with a knack for self-promotion, they loved to read and share inspiring stories of other early Christians who had shown remarkable commitment to their work. There was Sarah, who lived next to a river without ever once looking in its direction, such was her dedication to her faith. James prayed so intently during a snowstorm that he was buried in snow and had to be dug out by his neighbors.

But none of these early devotees could ward off distraction like Pachomius. The 4th-century monk weathered a parade of demons that transformed into naked women, rumbled the walls of his dwelling, and tried to make him laugh with elaborate comedy routines. Pachomius didn’t even glance in their direction. For early Christian writers, Pachomius and his ilk set a high bar for concentration that other monks aspired to match. These super-concentrators were the first millennium embodiment of #workgoals, #hustle, and #selfimprovement.

Even if you’re not beset by demons, it turns out there’s a lot that medieval monks can teach you about distraction. Our present-day worries about self-motivation and productivity might feel like the product of a world plagued by distracting technologies, but monks agonized about distraction in much the same way more than 1,500 years ago. They fretted about the demands of work and social ties, bemoaned the distractions presented by new technologies, and sought out inspiring routines that might help them live more productive lives. Forget Silicon Valley gurus. Could it be that early Christian monks are the productivity heroes we’ve been searching for all this time?

Easily Distracted? You Need to Think Like a Medieval Monk

Focusing wasn’t much easier in the time before electricity or on-demand TV. In fact, you probably have a lot in common with these super-distracted monks.

www.wired.co.uk

I know this is part promo for a book but it is really interesting. In fact, I might get that book.

Interesting. Will definitely check it out. Thanks.