Mindscapes

3 min read

I regularly push myself out of my comfort zone to stimulate my mind. Sometimes, this means picking up a book even when I don't feel like reading, or striking up conversations with strangers at a cafe during my walks. These spontaneous moments allow me to explore undiscovered areas of my mind.

However, it is not just spontaneity that helps me to discover, strong routines can also counteract the brain's inertia-driven comfort zone. Every Monday evening at 7 PM, four friends and I delve into headlines from Hacker News1 during a video call. I often join them while walking along the beach, the sound of waves providing a soothing backdrop. We’ve maintained this routine for about two years now, persisting even when fatigue or lack of motivation sets in.

By committing to routines, I’m able to counteract my brain’s natural inclination toward ease and familiarity. Each Monday call, every book I force myself to read, becomes a small act of resistance against the mental inertia that craves comfort and repetition.

Writing becomes the canvas where I paint these mindscapes. If I don't put them down on paper, they occupy valuable areas of my mind and block new ideas. The process of writing helps me sift through my thoughts, organizing them into coherent narratives and freeing up mental space for new inspirations. It’s like decluttering a room; once the unnecessary items are gone, you can breathe and move freely again.2

Anne Lamott explains the value of the act of writing without feeling obliged to publish:

I still encourage anyone who feels at all compelled to write to do so. I just try to warn people who hope to get published that publication is not all that it is cracked up to be. Writing has so much to give, so much to teach, so many surprises. The thing you had to force yourself to do—the actual act of writing—turns out to be the best part. It’s like discovering that while you thought you needed the tea ceremony for the caffeine, what you really needed was the tea ceremony. The act of writing turns out to be its own reward. ⏤Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird

Social networks achieved this to some extent but fallen short of creating a narrative. Data and figures stripped narratives from their context, reducing them to a “collection of icons” to be displayed. Social relationships, instead of maturing through a more organic process, come to be governed by digital identities. Doing things like writing something, visiting places, trying new flavors, or engaging in cultural events have transformed from being things we do for ourselves into expressions that define our digital presence.

In contrast, painting on your own canvas —having a personal website— offers a way to reclaim narrative depth. It’s not just about content ownership; it’s about wrapping what you want to convey in personal thoughts and perspectives. It’s about having an infinite canvas without containing the medium’s message or being bound by character limits. In the narrative, the narrative takes precedence, and how it reaches others becomes more significant. As Marshall McLuhan said, “The medium is the message.”3

In this process, I feel that I’ve regained depth—a form of “intellectual simplification,” further away from distracting thoughts and worries. Simplifying by choosing, simplifying by writing…


1. Hacker News is the only news platform i follow.

2. I’m a bit of a neat freak—I keep my room (and yes, the whole house) in tip-top shape :)

3. First chapter of Understanding Media: The Extensions by Marshall McLuhan.