Children, productivity vomit, and getting that thing off your chest

Observations, a short story and a movie trailer.

Children don’t give a fuck.

They break every inch of conventional wisdom.

"Don't do that?" "Why not?"

"That's impossible to do." "I can."

"See, I told you you can't." "Let me try again."

"You'll get hurt?"

What's hurt?

Hurt is a concept that a child's brain can't even grasp. They get temporary pain, it's forgotten, and it's back to doing the same thing again.

Einstein (or someone) is attributed to saying, "Doing the same things again expecting a different result is the definition of insanity." Try telling that to a child.

I told my 5-year-old to draw an elephant—honestly, just to get him off my back. Minutes later, he comes around. "I've finished."

What the hell... and I stopped myself.

I told him that it was terrific.

He also drew a tiger and assembled the Texas Roadhouse sign.

Conditioning will eventually get to him. Correctness will be ingrained in him. But until then, he should do whatever his mind and heart tell him (lawfully, of course).

But shit, imagine if we went into everything with a blank slate—no opinion, no fear, everything experimentation and possibility. We would move forward as a race.

In books and movies, we often see the character of a wrinkled, grumpy old man who is set in his ways. He's cranky because society has taught him poorly and erased any possibility of free thinking.

So... let the kids play.

And for yourself, allow yourself to play.

Go blank, don't assume, operate from page zero (easy to say, but there's no other way, is there?) and be curious as hell.

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Productivity…vomit.

Writing about this makes me nauseous. I can't think of any other word that makes me want to shut down my laptop and watch Netflix the whole day with a pint of Cold Stone Creamery Mud Pie Mojo—if that's super specific, it's because it's not my first time at this rodeo.

Oh, another word that gives me the ick: "certified." Ugh. If I got a dollar for every time I've been pitched the "become a certified PMP" schtick on LinkedIn with the follow-up of "you don't have to take it, we'll do it for you, and you'll get the cert," I'd be richer by $862.

But back to productivity.

Why the hell do I have to be productive all the time? And what in God's capitalistic earth even counts as productivity? If I spend time with my children, playing Italian brain rot with them, is that not considered productivity?

Or do I always have to be building, working with a meticulous checklist, ticking off my cold plunges, venison meat, nicotine, and caffeine-addled working sessions in time-blocked shitholes to be considered productive?

Or is it when I proclaim my 8-figure month with a fake Stripe screenshot that I'll be considered productive?

Now, how about now—writing this? Is this productive?

Fuck productivity. Live instead.

Love what you do, and do whatever you do with a passion that would make Michelangelo jealous.

That's productivity.

Ugh.

Or in other words, that's just life.

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Get the bad work out of your chest.

Perhaps "bad" is too harsh. Maybe it's just about getting the first versions of your work out of your system.

I just posted an AI-generated video, and immediately after publishing, I had countless ideas on how I could have done it better*. Then my friend told me that my transitions reminded him of Jason Bourne movies and could have been smoother. Of course, that sent me into a whole other level of overthinking about delivering subpar work.

But the truth is, if I hadn't put this out, I never would have become the observer. I would have remained the perpetual builder, trying to create perfect outcomes. But nothing—especially art—works like that.

You have to get the work out. This applies to everything: writing, art, creation, products, starting a company, and entrepreneurship. It all falls under the same bucket: get it out, then figure out what to improve.

There's something unbelievably liberating about publishing and discovering your shortcomings. I often joke that my best editing happens after I've posted. That's true for any work, too.

Even if you reviewed something a million times, going through it like a big-ass metal detector searching for treasure, you'll never find all of it. But the moment you publish, you get an inkling of where to look next time.

I suppose it'll always be this way. Even after you become world-class at whatever you do, you'll always find something to make the next thing better.

So don't hold back. Hit that publish button. It’s never going to be perfect anyway.

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Playing with AI video #3

*This is the AI video, which I wanted to improve right after publishing:

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The video is also a trailer for my short story The [im] Possible Wedding. A short story about family, secrets, and the lies we tell to protect love. As you might have guessed from the image, it’s an Indian wedding.

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That’s it for this week. I’d love to get feedback. I send out the newsletter once a week, but I post pieces on the blog every few days.

Nothing but the best,

Parves