Like a Horse, Not a Car

I am an engineer at heart and likely always will be. Even after nearly 10 years of writing and pursuing a more creative career I still think of things in terms of optimization, productivity, and efficiency.

I track numbers about everything from hours worked in a week to words written per day (and per hour). Other writers have told me that Excel sheets give them hives. I, on the other hand, got excited because I found a writing process that used Excel.

I will bang my head against a problem (in life, writing, business and even cooking) until it gets fixed. Usually this is fueled by the belief that just one little change that I’ve overlooked will make the whole thing work.

In software that belief is absolutely true. I had a teacher who wrote a chess program where the CPU’s queen could move to any place on the board and capture a piece (even her own) all because he’d forgotten a semicolon.

I really wish my life was one semicolon away from running like a well oiled machine (maybe that’d motivate me to figure out how to use semicolons).

I imagine my mind and body as an engine and a car respectively. When I’m not working as many hours as usual I think something is wrong with my energy levels. I wonder “How can I put gas in my tank?”

This has taught me that Poptarts are not a good way to put gas in my tank. Neither is laying in bed all day and watching YouTube for hours on end. Rock climbing, reading, and writing seem to help. Unfortunately I usually need fuel to do those things…

Whoever designed this engine did not have the convenience of the end user (me) in mind.

And for a while I resented that.

Then one day I realized that I am more similar to a horse than I am to a car. I’d do far better ingesting carrots, oats, and apples than motor oil and gasoline.

So when I find that I’m not running as optimally as I think I should be I remind myself:

Treat yourself like a horse not a car.

And usually that leads to me realizing that I just did a hard push to finish a project and it’s more than reasonable to just spend some time in the stables.

I don’t know much about horses but I’ve seen enough wild west movies to know that when the hero is riding after the bad guy and he’s been through a montage of riding through canyons and prairies he switches horses at the next town.

So why on Earth am I not giving myself time to rest after a long ride?

Why am I trying to motivate myself to move with mental flagellation despite my hooves being buried into the ground?

Why am I constantly shocked when I fail at projects that have spooked me in the past? Why haven’t I given myself time to get comfortable with them?

If a dare devil is going to make a jump he does some physics and makes sure the velocity and the angles of the ramps work out. An equestrian making a jump needs a relationship with the horse and a familiarity with the obstacle to not land on their ass.

Additionally, I don’t think that my background in engineering is the only thing that makes me default to imagining myself as an engine or a computer. I suspect a lot of people see themselves and others this way. Just look at the phrase “cog in a machine” and how it’s used to describe workers.

These days, most of us interact with engines and computers and cell phones more often than working animals.

And when those things don’t work we label them as broken, out dated, inefficient, and there’s very little that we can do to fit them back into our daily life.

As someone who just lost his dog I can say for certain that it’s difficult to label another living animal as broken, out dated, and inefficient. Even animals with jobs are retired to live out their natural life in comfort (yes I know there are exceptions with injuries and glue factories but those are still tougher decisions than replacing a slow phone).

We have a hard time labeling animals as unproductive and lost causes but we find it easy to label ourselves as those things.

Maybe we should try to treat ourselves with the same amount of compassion that we have for other animals.

As an engineer I want to see things as close to reality as possible. If I can’t see the world as it really is then I can not build things in it. Plus every awesome tool we have as modern humans has stemmed from our advanced understanding of the universe around us.

In college I took physics classes so I’d understand electricity and could make working circuits. As a software developer I learned about computers and compilers so I could write software. Even now I’m learning to understand other people and what entertains them so that I can write engaging books.

So, in an effort to see the world (and myself) clearly I now understand that I am more similar to a horse than a car.

And you work with a horse. You learn what spooks it, how to communicate with it, and not to sneak up behind it.

I can’t just show up to the stables, turn a key, and expect to ride a horse for days on end. It’s unrealistic and inhumane.

So, why am I expecting the same of myself?

I’m trying to figure out what motivates and moves this horse that is myself.

And more importantly I’m trying to be gentle when it’s stubborn and doesn’t want to move.

Find Peace in Progress,
Nicholas Licalsi

Photo credit: nick farnhill on Visualhunt.com