Default Settings

Drawings of the brain and skull by Leonardo da Vinci.

Understanding defaults is important. Anyone who works with technology knows that the computer’s default setting is zero, where all things are flat and neutral. But when it comes to life and understanding ourselves, we tend to forget about our own natural default setting which is, unfortunately, not neutral. Here’s the terrible truth: the default setting of our mind is selfishness, pure and utter self-centeredness. This is not hard to test; pick anything — money, wife/husband, house, child, career and it becomes YOUR money, YOUR wife/husband, YOUR house, YOUR child, YOUR career. Since the brain’s job and nature is to think, it will always default to thinking about the “me” and the “mine.” It’s also particularly obsessed with time and the urge to satisfy emotional needs; it doesn’t like to incorporate things like deep-time thinking. Security-oriented thinking might be suitable in the biological habitat of a jungle or open ocean but when it comes to human happiness it becomes problematic.

“Occupation with one’s self brings about shrinkage in the brain.” — J. Krishnamurti, Philosopher

Anyone who has spent enough time to learn about himself knows that when he is mostly concerned about his own being it becomes near impossible to experience and understand the truly great things in life such as love, creativity and truth. We could expand the list to include the virtues of genuineness, sincerity, generosity, compassion, and humility. All these elements, which are both immeasurable and unmeasurable, fall outside of the confines of the egoic mind.

Now, thinking itself isn’t always or necessarily bad, for it is tremendously useful for the practical acquisition of knowledge and necessary skills for basic everyday living. All of science or any mechanical activity in fact depend heavily on logical observation, dissection as well as specialization. The categorization of things and theories give rise to technological innovation which lead to greater comfort and convenience. Even learning to be a good artist requires a significant amount of time devoted to deep analytical study, accumulation of technique and sustained practice. These all belong under the realm of intellectual activity. Unfortunately, while the intellectual and calculating mind succeeds in the physical world, it fails in the psychological world. As cliché as it sounds, the truth is that the mind is an excellent servant but a terrible master.

“Knowledge is useful until it gets in the way.” — David Bohm, Physicist 

I’ve always been a big fan of science, and I still spend some time reading up on the latest neuro-scientific discoveries or matters of quantum or theoretical physics. After all, I might have continued my studies in science at university had I felt more capable at math, for math is the language of science. But as great as science is, it’s limited because our ability to see and know the universe is and always will be limited. That’s because science deals only with the measurable — that is its fundamental condition and paradigm — yet there is so much more to this universe than that which can be measured. Art proves to be a good example. In fact, I would contend that science helps us to see, record and understand the truths of the world while art helps us to experience and ultimately realize it. For without realization, most understanding is merely intellectual understanding, and not true comprehension. A man can study and analyze swimming all he likes but until he actually swims in the water he really doesn’t know what swimming is like at all.

The practice of art has always served to bridge that gap between the truths that can be known and those that can only be felt. Hence, creativity is such a novel thing; the very act of creation implies dealing with the unknown and discovering the new. This is why creativity is a not an act of repetition or copying, and it’s most certainly not stealing or exploitation. The creative act, like love and all other unmeasurable experiences, is a fresh activity, one always grounded in the present, alive in the now. It cannot rely on past knowledge, memory, or formulas even if it may use them when needed as springboards for inspiration and exploration. To create implies taking a risk which can never be accurately pre-calculated.

Gertrude Stein, by Pablo Picasso is one of my favorite portraits in all of art. It’s creative adventure lay the groundwork for cubism and abstract art.

“If you knew it all it would not be creation but dictation.” — Gertrude Stein, Writer

Hence the danger of the default setting of our brains. It wants to think about the self, about its memories of the past and its need for security against the future, which is the unknown. It hates risk. The mind wants to think and to think about protecting, advancing and expanding the self. That’s its nature. To use a knives as an analogy, the nature of a knife is to cut. Knives are very useful for cutting but they’re impractical for other tasks. Furthermore, when they aren’t sharp or are handled carelessly or without skill they are dangerous and even deadly. Likewise, when thinking is used outside its parameters, it gets in the way. This is very evident with athletes, musicians or stage actors who have too much on their mind during a live performance. And since the default state of our brains is to think, it’s hard to stop it from doing so. As almost all our activities, both verbal and physical, spring from our thoughts it’s all too easy to suffer psychological conflict. Hence, when we bad thoughts, we easily behave poorly; the selfish mind almost always triggering a reactive (and often negative/violent) response.

“The soul is dyed with the colour of its thoughts.” — Marcus Aurelius, Roman Emperor

And then, there’s another dilemma: just as our brains don’t like dealing with unknowns (even when danger isn’t necessarily apparent) it also knows and feels that deep inside — deeper than what the mind can logically comprehend — is a voice that says we have to explore new truths. We want to learn, discover and experience what we’ve haven’t before. Even as a lot of new things such as new films/books/products are trite, distasteful or poor, we still hold out hope that the next one might be good. The unknown is exciting just as it is scary. Creation is fun. Unfortunately, we cannot “will” ourselves to be creative, nor can we acquire it, nor cultivate it. And to think we can do so is as futile as trying to do the same with love. It’s no wonder that we say we “discover” creative ideas and “fall” in love. These wonderments can only happen when the mind is empty, free from self-consciousness. The best we can do is set up conditions that might allow for them to happen. In art, we do this by raising our skills, while at the same time opening up our hearts and minds to the unfathomable, and to living humbly with courage and conviction.

But perhaps the real solution lies in strengthening our attention, which is not the same thing as concentration, for attentiveness is an inclusive act exercising the highest levels of sensitivity whereas concentration is an act of isolation and exclusion. In other words, concentration is a mechanical process that separates and closes off reality in order to narrow its focus while attention is aligning oneself with one’s target while being mindful of the complete reality. It’s why forcing ourselves (or others) to “concentrate” is an act of abject and inevitable failure, much akin for forcing oneself to sleep when one is not sleepy. Suppression is not focus. Externalized discipline is not order. True attention is the kind of focus that sees all while not being distracted by anything in the field of vision. In the writings of the great 17th century Samurai warrior Miyamoto Musashi, he talked of focusing on one’s opponent in the battlefield while being fully aware of the entire battleground. The artist, or any human who hopes to live with honor, clarity and purpose aims for such level of awareness in all that he does and is.

“The heart of a wise man is tranquil.” — Chuang-tse, Philosopher

In summary, all that can be said is what’s already known; life isn’t easy. Nor is finding love, creation or truth. And sometimes the worst thing — that which is in the way of us discovering love, creativity or truth — is ourselves; that busy little brain of ours that tells us that we are the center of the universe. Therefore, it would be wise to be mindful of what our minds are doing, to know its nature and our own individual nature. Self knowledge is the most important knowledge and over-thinking can deter us. We must be aware of the brain’s default condition, which is often non-stop self-consciousness and self-obsession. The moment that awareness happens, the light comes in and healing begins, and we can begin to see thru the filter which is our conditioning. We need to separate thinking from doing, so that there’s clarity in both. If there’s no clarity, there can be neither love nor creativity. These things, like all great and beautiful things exist only when the concern for the self is absent. When the default state is not.

Note: If you’ve not already heard this famous 2005 commencement address at Kenyon College by the late David Foster Wallace, a writer of immense talent, intelligence and compassion, I advise that you watch this colorful video below. It summarizes what is said here with a balance of humor and seriousness. And although Wallace may have lost his battle with the mind, it does not take away the meaning, power and truth of his words.

Video illustration by After School of David Foster Wallace’s magnanimous essay “This is Water.”

Favorite Films: Fun Films

These days, both life and art seem far too serious. And worst of all, it’s serious in all the wrong places. In our society, all our attention is on rushed accumulation (money, information, social approval) and not on living attentively and joyfully each day. In the art of movies, both live action and animated, we’re overburdened with excessively plot driven arrangements — stories that never let one breathe in the atmosphere or allow one to feel for its characters. It’s as if the industry knows and feels that the audience is also in a hurry to be impressed or entertained. Perhaps art does reflect life? But, regardless, I think we’re all getting pretty tired of the endless exposition and cheaply written non-sensical dialogue to make up for weak story construction. Add to that the kind of frenetic camera work and editing that’s near impossible to follow, what we’re witnessing is nothing less than a trite mess that no amount technical eye candy is gonna save.

So in this selection of favorite films, I’ve specifically chosen ones whose topics, though they may still hit home in the heart and mind, don’t take themselves so seriously either in plot or technical wizardry. They are simply films, funny ones that let you enjoy what’s happening on screen. The art of filmmaking is designed to make people forget about themselves by inviting us to live and feel along with the characters no matter how fantastical or ridiculous the set up. Films don’t always have to be to high art, groundbreaking, or even original but they must be visual and interesting. They are ideas and experiences to be expressed and felt by the viewer. These comedies prove that we can be serious about our art without taking ourselves too seriously.

“As a filmmaker, you have to tell a story to the audience, and in so doing you have to translate it into an image, which means you direct the eye and the heart to look in a certain way, the way you want it to be, the way you want them to see it.” — Martin Scorcese, Filmmaker

Planes, Trains and Automobiles (directed by John Hughes)

What an incredibly funny film Planes, Trains and Automobiles is. It’s remarkably simple (and silly!) Really, it’s just a road movie about two guys trying to find their way home for Thanksgiving holiday. But here, Neil Page (Steve Martin) and Del Griffith (John Candy) are a perfect match of comedy misfits that are somehow forced to work together, their traveling fate sealed the moment Del accidentally steals Neil’s taxicab in New York City. You see, Neil Page is a bit of a stuffy, privileged white collar executive, while Del is your regular joe, happy-go-lucky shower curtain ring salesman who’s so kind and charming but also irritating at the same time. Nothing goes right for them as they make their way around the cold country in all kinds of transportation, as the title suggests. The two get on at each other’s nerves throughout their adventure, leading to creative conflict and bountiful good fun. As the film moves — and it keeps moving, visually and physically — we learn more and more about the characters. There’s so much brilliant visual humour, and it never seems to end, until it necessarily does with a surprising yet meaningful ending. Few films let you have this much fun and still give you a wonderful payoff. Both my belly and heart are always satisfied when I watch this film and that makes it a perennial favorite. As a friend of mind said after watching it, “it’s so sad they don’t make films like this anymore.”

My Cousin Vinny (directed by Jonathan Lynn)

I absolutely love My Cousin Vinny. If I need to laugh and smile, this unbelievably low key film does it every time. The magic between the two stars is fantastic, even if seemingly unlikely given the visual disparity. A court case comedy, Vinny (Joe Pesci) is an inexperienced lawyer from New York, who, along with his fiancée Mona Lisa Vito (Marisa Tomei) comes down to Alabama to defend his cousin William Gambini (Ralph Macchio) and his buddy Stan (Mitchel Whitfield). All four characters are like oil in water, being big city folk now congregating in the old South. William and Stan are mistaken for murder but the evidence is heavily against their favour, and this being a backwater town, the paranoia and prejudice run wild and funny. This film shouldn’t be so hilarious, but it is. The characters are wonderfully rendered visual caricatures, with great performances all over and the way the story unfolds, it surprisingly holds you in suspense. For me, it’s the acting that make it so incredibly charming and so visually interesting. Morisa Tomei is so beautiful, funny and sexy here, she won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress while Pesci is at his comic best with the kind of wit only he can deliver. There’s no car chases, no naked bodies nor any fisticuffs (although there is a redneck who’s dying to beat up Vinny if he were to ever get the chance). Unexpectedly funny, My Cousin Vinny has literally zero special effects and doesn’t need them.

Big (directed by Penny Marshall)

Big was the big feature break that Tom Hanks needed to showcase his wonderful talent to the world. Here, in director Penny Marshall’s wonderfully sweet and original comedy, Hanks plays 12 year-old Joshua, who, after making a wish to become “big” at an amusement park, wakes up transformed into a fully-fledged adult overnight. The story, again, is simple; a boy turns into a man who must find his way to return to being a boy while adjusting to becoming a man and in so doing learns the value of friendship, childhood and family. However, the way the story plays out is fresh, and playful, allowing the charm of its star to really shine. Hanks plays a young boy in an adult body better than anyone I’ve seen with a believable innocence and silliness that’s hard to doubt. Visual acting, and comedy especially, is the hardest kind of acting to pull off. Here, we witness a great physical performance that allows us to forget ourselves, and empathize fully with the character and those who love him, namely his best friend, his mother, and even his newfound girlfriend Susan (Elizabeth Perkins) who is overtaken by his strange yet sweet nature. I trust, for those who might see Big for the first time, realize why film making (and film acting) makes its greatest impressions on us when it’s visually interesting.

The God of Cookery (directed by Stephen Chow)

I love watching Stephen Chow’s comedies. They’re ridiculous and often repetitive in its themes and visual tricks, but Chow, both as an actor and writer/director, always finds a way to make people laugh. I believe he succeeds here (and in his other global hits The King of Comedy (my co-favorite), Shaolin Soccer, and the bigger budget and more graphically refined Kung Fu Hustle) because at the heart of his films, it’s all about humanity; the ridiculousness of our daily obsessions, cultures, and overall behaviour are worth dissection and parody. In The God of Cookery, Chow plays an arrogant celebrity chef who gets tossed from his throne and into the slum-ridden street food markets of Hong Kong where he tries to re-work his way back to the top. And of course, throughout the journey, there’s the usual display of unrequited love, a share of the grotesque that caricatures the mannerisms of both the business elite and the impoverished working class, and of course, his love of Kung Fu. It all makes for a fantastical display of colourful characters and comedic action that guarantees laughter. The film is far funnier if one understands the spoken language of Cantonese because Chow manipulates the colloquialisms of the Chinese language in a very unique fashion, but even in subtitled form, the story and humour read loud and clear due to the visuals. Stephen Chow’s artistry is particularly distinct in that he has a tremendous respect for physical comedy and knows how to use the camera to express it effectively. He might also might be one of the best at making us laugh at humanity’s own silly obsession with superficial beauty and success.

Office Space (directed by Mike Judge)

It’s hard to not like Office Space, Mike Judge’s satire of office life and politics. Without the use of any big name stars (unless you consider a still relatively young Jennifer Aniston a star), Judge is able to build a story about characters who can’t stand their place at work. Personally, I can relate heavily to this film, as I, too, once worked in the confines of a corporate office environment, compiling, checking and matching numbers on papers and computers — the kind of work that makes so little sense in the big scheme of things that it’s hard to believe a sane man would actually get up in the morning to do this everyday of his life. In Office Space, that man happens to be Peter Gibbons (Ron Livingston) who is so depressed with his job that he actually agrees to go visit a shrink about it. During the visit, he goes into self-hypnosis but the psychologist actually has a heart attack during the session leaving Peter feeling accidentally yet completely refreshed and no longer burdened by his concerns about his career or even his life. He returns to the job but doesn’t quit, perplexing both his two equally disgruntled office buddies. In fact, his “I don’t give a crap attitude” actually gets him a promotion during an internal company audit while his two pals get the pink slip. He even dumps his mean old girlfriend for the new girl at the restaurant nearby. But of course, things don’t all go smooth. Still bitter about the kind of life and work he and others do at his company, he comes up with a scheme to pilfer, bit by bit, money from them. And there lies his journey to find that there is no way out of the mundaneness of work, and that sacrificing one’s ethics, even if just a bit, has its price. Office Space is truly silly, and yet at the same time completely right about the stupidity of our daily work lives — namely, that we all make too much of it. I used to get stressed out about numbers and such, but like the oft-mentioned TPS report, they’re all just symbols of absolute meaninglessness.

For more film recommendations, check out the Favorite Films Category.