Programmers, Kings and Gods
Sign of a Novice
It’s a beautiful Sunday afternoon in March. I’ve read, danced, hiked, and hit the sauna as if checking boxes on a congested to-do list. I hope to squeeze in a grilling session before heading back out for evening drinks. My mind and body stiffen as my focus narrows, blocking out anything that isn’t today’s plan.
I arrive at the market, hastily selecting my steaks and dashing off to pay. I fumble through my pockets and quickly cross the threshold into full blown fight or flight as I realize I’ve forgotten my wallet. I tell the cashier to hold my purchase as I bolt back home to find it.
As I exit and cross the street, a relentless downpour strikes, snapping my plans like a decrepit bridge under load.
I’m drenched, my plans extinguished. I can’t grill now, that’ll have to come later. My script is ruined.
On cue I begin to point my middle finger toward the heavens, toward the God whose existence I’ve routinely denied yet cursed many times.
How dare you disrupt my story?
“That’s not how he wanted the story to go. And he wouldn’t have any other story. So he tore up the world…” - East of Eden
Programmers
Programmers are gods.
You live in a universe of reduced complexity housing simple, limited rules. Should you persist in your design, your powers shall build.
You don’t like your creation? Just burn it down or wash it away and start over.
It works. It just works.
It breaks. But you fix it, upgrade it.
That devilish edge case creeps in. Make it better. Tear it down, rebuild.
You see the blueprints to another’s creation. It sucks. You could do it better. They don’t understand best practices, optimization. They can’t think.
You can’t sleep because paradise must be in order at all times. Little gremlins whisper reveries of ideas, bugs, suboptimal code, glaring mistakes.
You sell “your world” to your boss, clients, and colleagues while glossing over details you’re prepared to answer but pray they don’t ask about.
You see that it’s good, your world is approved.
If this, then that, else that. Here’s my error handling for that edge case, my catch-all if it breaks.
It’s not ready, it could be so much better. I have to make it perfect.
We must achieve state A before state B, before state C. If A isn’t going as planned we need another way to get to B.
Your plan works. You’re lauded, praised for your attention to detail, your systems thinking. Success in this context stokes the fires of temptation to apply this line of thinking outside your world.
In the beginning was the Code, and the Code was with the Programmer, and the Code was the Programmer. He was with the Programmer in the beginning. Through him all things were programmed; without him nothing was programmed that has been programmed. In him was life, and that life was the upgrade of all mankind. The upgrade shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not downloaded it.
Improv
Imagine an improv scene unfolding before you. A pet store owner is reluctantly sweeping the floor of their shop. Suddenly, a disheveled elderly woman stumbles through the front door, clamoring for balance. As the two strike up a dialog, the woman calls over her shoulder for her dog “Precious”.
You’re the store owner. You have two options
Pre-plan
Be “in the scene” as it unfolds, a risky unknown.
Improv teaches you to avoid pre-planning. By trying to find the “right” answer, you are both clogging your working memory with your plan and choosing to ignore the real-time details that emerge before you.
The dog is not on a leash.
If you’re “in the scene” you’ll likely catch the gift.
Dance
Ed Sheeran’s “Don’t” ripples through the atmosphere.
8 counts away. My timing and styling are on point, everything is perfect.
6 count pattern, then 2 count variation to “hit the one”2.
But, my follower extends the 6 count pattern. My script is interrupted, sabotage.
It’s too late to roll with the change as “the one” passes in a haze of letdown.
If I was in the moment rather than executing my plan, it could have been a gift.
PT
It’s 2015 and I’m in physical therapy school. Our class is learning the art of the subjective exam, “your rap” according to a mentor of mine. The therapist’s objective is to ask targeted questions to efficiently obtain the information they need.
Why has the patient entered the building and what condition are they mostly likely presenting with?
At first, you’re just provided a list of commonly relevant questions. Ultimately, you must internalize both what you do and don’t need to ask AND ask at the opportune time. It’s one of the most treasured skills I discovered as a PT.
Hurts all the time. What’s “all the time”? When you sleep? Lie down? …
I give this a shot with a mock patient in front of the class. It’s a bit of a mishmash but a reasonable first attempt. Afterwards, I’m asked for my reflections which were “I caught myself often thinking of my next question, rather than listening to the patient’s response”.
I will never forget my professors joyful enthusiasm as he pounced on this teaching moment, exclaiming “That…. everyone…. is a sign of a novice!!!”
When it rains
Who are you when the rain soaks you unexpectedly?
Do you embrace the flavors of chaos that forge unique opportunity? Do you curse God for ruining your plan?
Of course, order still matters. We can’t just whimsically give in to chaos.
Mindsets and tactics applied effectively in one context can be destructive in others.
The adaptations of a programmer are useful in terms of developing structured and abstract thinking. But, fundamentally you are living deep inside your head within a static body. Excess order. Our bodies have far more value than simply housing our minds. A bit of chaos within order is necessary for life.
When I sense this “programming” mindset in conversation, I feel nervous. Something feels off. This is pre-planned detachment, perfectionism, and control applied incompetently.
How I feel about it is a projection of this very quality in myself.
When you run life on a pre-planned script, you are trying to play God. You are trying to play God in a universe that is closed by default. Regardless of your toil and sacrifice, the universe may still say “no”. You don’t always get to know why. If you’re busy trying to play God, you’ll miss life as a human. As the present manifests it’s gifts before you, you’ll fail to see them.
You’ll wonder if the whole world is privy to a secret you aren’t aware of.
Maybe it’s this drive that directed your choice of career. After all, a world you can control is quite seductive.
Don’t forget, Lucifer, the “light bringer,” was once the most powerful and beautiful angel.When he tried to become God, he didn’t just fail, he wound up in hell.
“In my work with addicts, I see again and again that the addict is trying to escape his or her own humanity”
- Marian Woodman
Programming may be a superpower, but you are not God.
Why not stop trying to be God and embrace the opportunity to be a king, queen, warrior, magician, lover or whatever best suits your true self?
No one has ever said it better…
God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change
the courage to change the things I can
and the wisdom to know the difference.
https://www.reddit.com/r/duncantrussell/comments/4z62fx/the_book_of_duncan/
In dance, "hitting the one" refers to performing a movement or action precisely on the first beat of a musical measure (also known as the "one").