Matigo dot See, eh?

Over the past few months I've been out and about during the peak of the summertime heat. Thermometers are pushing beyond 36˚C by noon and there's no respite from the brilliance of the sun directly above our head. As a result, when I get home in the evening, it takes a good deal of willpower to bring Ayumi outside for her evening walk before I risk sitting on the sofa. More than once this summer I have passed out in the evening only to wake up after midnight and shuffle over to the bed for a proper night's rest.

A quarter century ago the heat was almost never an issue. Summertime temperatures in Southern Ontario in the 90s were not that different to the temperatures in this part of Japan today, though there was a lot less humidity to contend with. I would often play baseball all weekend without thinking much about the weather so long as the game wasn't rained out. Some days hit 38˚C without a cloud in the sky, and it was no problem at all.

This was before air conditioning was as prevalent as it is now, though. In the 90s, if my family wanted to enjoy some air conditioning we would have to visit a shopping mall. Even our cars did not have the luxury of an A/C unit. If rolling the windows down as insufficient, then all you could hope for was a long empty road with no cops so you could bury the needle to simulate a breeze … which was still too warm to feel refreshing.

For much of the following decade, air conditioning remained something that shopping malls had but I did not. In 2002 I left Ontario for British Colombia, where air conditioning might be needed for one or two weeks per year, making it an expense most people could not justify. This was fine for the most part, as I worked indoors and would commute during the cooler times of day. If the temperature in my apartment was too hot during the summer, there was always a coffee shop where I could sit for a few hours to read books and enjoy their climate controlled spaces.

Japan is different, though, where most people all over the country have at least one air conditioner in their home and another in their car. Despite what many newspapers might say, the highest temperatures reported in the well-populated parts of this country are not that different from what someone in the Niagara region of Ontario might experience¹. What is different is the humidity.

This morning I took Ayumi out for her walk just after 7:30am when the thermometer read 28˚C. Within five minutes of being outside, though, my shirts were soaked with sweat and sticking uncomfortably to my back. According to the phone's weather app, that 28-degree temperature "felt like" 37˚C. By noon, when the sun radiated heat from above while concrete radiated heat from below, the 36-degree reading "felt like" something closer to my age rather than a respectable summertime temperature.

Regardless of what the mercury might say, though, I wonder how much of the heat exhaustion that I succumb to is the result of being spoiled by air conditioning. People in Japan have long had issues in the summertime heat and there are reports of deaths from exposure going back over a thousand years. It's nothing new over here. The endless stretches of heat-reflecting concrete are new, though, as well as the luxury of air conditioning. I make great use of both and couldn't imagine life without either. All this said, I can't help but wonder if I might be making too much use of the A/C in a manner that makes it difficult for my body to naturally regulate its heat while I'm out and about.

1. Between 32˚C and 38˚C for the most part. When Western news organisations report temperatures in Japan exceeding 40˚C, they're not telling you that it's in the less-populated areas where one finds volcanic activity and plenty of hot springs.

A few days ago all signs were pointing to me picking up a used Daihatsu Mira e:S shortly after earning a Japanese driver's license. There are several thousand of these for sale in the area ranging in price from $2,500 for a 2013-year model up to $23,000 for a fully-loaded, mostly-new vehicle. However, while considering options, I started thinking about a different model of Daihatsu that has long caught my attention: the Copen.

Daihatsu's Copen is not nearly as common as one might expect them to be on the roads of Japan. I tend to keep my eyes open for interesting cars while out and about and see one of these maybe once or twice a week. It's a two-seater, which probably has something to do with its scarcity, but one will see a Mazda Roadster or BMW Z4 more frequently than a Copen despite their much higher price tags. Perhaps it has something to do with its perceived lack of power?

The Copen was introduced in 2002 and I first spotted one while on my first visit to Japan back in 2007. Being a Kei car, its engine is limited to a maximum of 660cc which will give it an effective maximum horsepower of somewhere around 75 horsepower if you're willing to install an aftermarket ECU. What really sets it apart from other modern vehicles, though, is its roundness. The only thing more round would be a VW Beetle yet, unlike Volkswagen's car, the Copen looks happy and ready for a marathon sprint up a mountain road. The newer models are much less round than the ones I first spotted more than a decade ago, but they're just as fun-looking.

How can anyone not want to take one of these for a spin?

That said, there is one little problem: they can be a little cramped for people who are tall by Japanese standards. I stand 183cm barefoot¹, which does afford the ability to see over the tops of many heads while riding on trains and walking from one place to another. Would I fit in this car?

Today I decided to pay a visit to a local Daihatsu dealership not too far from the apartment. They claimed to have a few of these for sale ranging from a silver 2016-model driven by a heavy smoker to a blue 2020-model that nobody could find. Given that I will not have a license until the latter-half of August, I figured that it would make sense to sit in the car and see whether it's something that would be comfortable enough without resulting in too many blind spots. If I am too tall, then the Mira e:S remains a viable option.

The dealership was not too busy despite being a Saturday and I was brought to the back lot where a sizeable collection of used cars waits to be claimed. The silver Copen was pulled out from the middle of the pack and I was given an opportunity to sit inside while asking questions about the car's history. While many people might drive these vehicles like a sports car, I am more interested in cruising. The salesman answered all of my questions and asked a few of his own to see whether I might be interested in the car.

My initial impressions from the outside were pretty positive. There were a couple of scratches on the bumper that appeared to be from pebbles bouncing off the car while on the highway as well as a clear scratch that looked to be the result of getting too close to a curb. However, nothing on the outside was so egregious that it could not be fixed with a bit of paint and a buffer. The inside, however …

First I will say that a 183cm-tall person can sit in the driver's seat and reasonably use the pedals when the seat is pushed all the way back. The steering wheel may block the legs from quickly moving, but this can be resolved with an aftermarket replacement. As this is a convertible, the pillars to the left and right of the seating area are thicker than with other cars. This will not result in egregious blindspots so long as a person remembers to move their head every once in a while. The rearview mirror takes up a good bit of the viewable area around the centre of the windshield, though, as does the centre console which contains the bump for a car navigation system. Both of these can be resolved with a minimal amount of effort.

What cannot be easily resolved, however, is the lingering odour of cigarettes. My goodness … there's just no way I could sit in this car on a rainy day because I would need the roof to be open any time I went somewhere.

Fortunately, this wasn't the only Copen available for sale.

Having confirmed that I would fit inside the car, the next question became: "Can you get one in yellow?" As one would expect, the answer was a happy one. Then the impulsive question: "Can I order one today even though I do not have a license yet?" Again, the answer was a happy one. The dealership would be more than happy to bring one in if I sign the paperwork and pay a deposit, but I cannot take it off the lot until after I am properly licensed and insured.

Naturally, and I wouldn't ask them to change either of those requirements.

Two hours later I left the dealership with an envelope full of promises, payment schedules, deadlines … and a big, happy smile. This autumn, the puppy and I will be cruising around the streets of Japan in a bright yellow Daihatsu Copen.

1. This is about 5'11" for people who prefer the older measurement system.

An interesting car popped up in the used market sites recently; one that I've long enjoyed looking at since I was in Canada: a 2010 Mazda Roadster.

When I was a lot younger, I enjoyed playing the Need for Speed racing games. The goal of every race, aside from winning, was to earn enough money to upgrade your cars and buy bigger, more powerful racers. In many versions of this game, there would be a Mazda Roadster. Because it's smaller than any muscle car and doesn't have as much horsepower as the bigger Japanese sports cars, it would often be available at the very start of the game. I would always choose this car, paint it yellow, and start racing around the streets of whatever Californian city the game happened to be based in. As the game progressed, the challengers would often become far too fast for the Roadster and people would be compelled to trade in their car for the larger RX-8 or something from another manufacturer. Because I enjoyed the shape of the Roadster so much, I would hold onto it for as long as possible.

When Mazda refreshed their Roadsters a few years ago for the newer manta-ray-like stylings, I was disappointed that the sleek look and rounded curves I had (virtually) driven in my youth were gone. However, when looking at a used car market, old dreams can become new realities:

A dealership about 30 minutes away has a 2010-model for sale in the colour that I seek and with a ridiculously low odometer count at just 4,884km. Thinking this was a typo, I got in touch with the seller who confirmed that this car has been sitting around in a garage for most of its 13 years just waiting for someone, anyone, to drive it. The engine has been given a thorough check with seals and gaskets being replaced, lubricants being flushed and replenished, and ignition coils replaced. It has never been raced, modified, or in an accident.

Unfortunately, the dealer doesn't know why the car was sitting around for so long. Given how much these vehicles cost off the lot, it's unlikely someone left it alone by choice.

Not wanting to rush into anything I would probably regret later, I thanked the dealer for his time and have let the idea simmer for a couple of days. Would I really want to buy a 13 year old sports car as my first car in 20+ years? How much would insurance cost? How about gas? Machines do not like being idle for too long, as seals and components begin to fail, so would this turn out to be a lemon as the body colour might imply?

Time can be a wonderful thing, as it offers us an opportunity to look at questions from many different angles.

Would I really want to buy a 13 year old sports car as my first car? So long as the insurance isn't too crazy, why not? Looking online, I would likely spend about 30% more for this car than the tamer Daihatsu Mira e:S I am also considering.

How about gas? This might be a problem. The Roadster requires premium gasoline, which is currently selling for about 180円 per litre and is expected to rise to about 200円 later this summer. The car gets an average of 11km/L, which means I could wind up spending more in gas than the cost of a train ticket if I travel more than 25km.

Am I able to take care of a lemon? I have a lot of family members who are mechanics by trade. They can fix just about anything. The problem is that they live on the other side of the planet from me, which makes weekend visitations darn near impossible. I would either need to learn a lot about cars very quickly to perform my own repairs, or I would need to bring it into a shop regularly, which can lead to some hefty costs if there's anything wrong with the engine or transmission.

This is a gorgeous car and in really great shape for its age … but its not something that I can realistically invest in. Maybe if I were 20 years younger, then this would make sense. However, right now it looks like the puppy and I will be sitting in a more modest vehicle come the autumn.

While it's probably a bit premature to be looking at cars, I've been looking through Goo-Net and CarSensor to see what sort of vehicles might be available for a decent price. I'm quite interested in having a bright yellow car made within the last decade for Ayumi and I to travel around in, and these sites allow people to filter on these important elements. Even when limiting results to these criteria, there are quite a number of possible options.

Option 1: Honda Fit

The Fit is a good-sized car with decent mileage. The back seats can be folded down to give Ayumi a lot of space to walk around in if we travel somewhere far. Prices are a bit higher than I am comfortable with, but deals can often be found for cars that have more than 100,000km on them.

Option 2: Honda N-Box

This is another Honda, but one with a much smaller engine. The N-Box is a Kei car, meaning it's powered by a 3-cylinder 660cc engine that puts out a maximum of 58 horsepower. While this may not sound like a lot, it's more than adequate for one human and one dog. Prices are more inline with expectations and, because it's a smaller vehicle, insurance may be a little cheaper at the same time.

Option 3: Daihatsu Mira e:S

Daihatsu makes some pretty reasonable Kei cars and, because they are affiliated with Toyota, replacement parts are generally available anywhere in the country. Bruce Willis used to be in the silly TV commercials promoting this car, too. What stands out about the Mira e:S, though, is the shade of yellow. It's not just yellow, but bright yellow. There would be no mistaking this vehicle in a parking lot for something else. Honda has a nice yellow, but it's a bit darker than what Daihatsu offers.

A five year old Mira is very reasonably priced and often comes with some decent features like a backup camera and sensors that warn you when too close to something. Given that I've not driven a car for quite some time, this could come in handy while getting reacquainted with the roads. Just like the N-Box, the rear seats can be folded down to give Ayumi a bunch of space to walk around while we're driving, too, which should help with her desire to not be in a little case while travelling. I'm sure she'd enjoy looking out the large windows, too.

There are a number of used car dealerships in the area so, if the weather is not too hot this weekend, the puppy and I may enjoy a longer-than-usual walk while considering the size and colours of vehicles.

Today I start taking driving lessons at a school on the west side of Tokyo with the hopes of earning a license so that I can buy a car this coming fall. Driving schools are generally a requirement for a license in this country and, as one might expect, they're priced to reflect this reality. And, while it's certainly true that Japan's public transit system is robust enough to allow a person to go just about anywhere within a reasonable amount of time, my dog hates being carried around in a case; a requirement while on the busses and trains in this country. As absurd as it sounds, I am working on earning a Japanese driver's license because of my dog.

This is long overdue, though, and taking a course makes sense. The last time I drove on the road was in Canada over twenty years ago. Any skills I had back then have long since atrophied and this country is very, very different in some regards than Canada. Being better informed on the rules and expectations here just makes sense. As the school is on the west side of Tokyo, this will also be an opportunity to earn experience by driving on the crowded streets of the capital. This will hopefully result in less anxiety when going through the bigger cities as a new driver.

Based on the lesson schedule, I can expect to complete the course in August. Shortly thereafter I'll head to the local license registration centre to take the final exam and – hopefully – obtain a piece of plastic. There is no graduated licensing process here like in other countries, which means I'll have an opportunity to pick up a car shortly thereafter. I haven't even started looking at vehicles in any serious manner, but am keen on getting something in my favourite colour for a car: bright yellow.

Every so often I remember that I'm doing this so that my dog and I can go places … which seems so absurd on the surface. However, this will give us a bit more flexibility than public transit ever could.

Ayumi and I made a semi-unplanned trip back to the house for the week in order to take care of a couple of things and also enjoy a bit more green than is available around the apartment. The trip was mostly uneventful thanks to some gorgeous weather and incredibly reliable public transportation schedules. However, one challenge that seems to become more of an issue with every trip to this part of the country is Ayumi's willingness to take public transit.

She loves the green around the house and seems to bounce with every step when we walk in the nearby parks – something she does not do at any of the places we visit north of Tokyo – but, for reasons I can empathise with, she does not want to get into the carry case that we need to use for her to be on busses and trains. While she has certainly grown a good bit in the two months since the case was delivered, she still fits and can turn around inside just fine. The floor is cushioned so that it does not vibrate too much while she's on the floor of the Shinkansen, and I make sure she has some of her quieter toys as well as a ready supply of water. Despite all of this, though, she does not like being in a confined space for any length of time.

Who could blame her?

The trip from the house to the apartment is a little over four and a half hours door to door. One of the things I do when we're going to the house is I get her vest and leash ready while we're on the final train that takes us from Nagoya to Kasugai. From there, we have a short bus ride to the neighbourhood and, when we're on the pedestrian walk and away from vehicular traffic, I take her out of the case so that she can walk the final 600 metres on her own. This allows her to re-acclimate herself to the surroundings while also working off some of that nervous energy that she had while taking public transit.

This isn't possible on the way back, though, so the return trip is a bit worse for her as she needs to be patient longer. What we need is an alternative that will give her a bit more freedom while we make the occasional trek from our apartment north of Tokyo to our house in central Japan. The simplest option would be to simply move back to the house, as she loves the neighbourhood and the building is currently sitting empty. However, I still have responsibilities in Tokyo with the church, with the day job, and with some people. Moving back to the house now would mean taking the train up to Tokyo several times a month for a day trip, returning in the late evening; which would leave Ayumi alone in the house for roughly 16 hours.

An alternative is needed and, ideally, it will be one that will resolve issues that we both have while travelling from place to place. This means it's time to start seriously looking at cars.

There's just one little problem, though: I have not had a driver's license for quite some time. To get one, I'll need to attend a driver's education course, pass their tests, then head to a prefectural driving centre to pass another round of tests. The total cost of the licensing process will exceed my take-home pay by a good margin; it's essentially six weeks of earnings¹. A quick look on used car sites like Goo-Net and CarSensor shows a good number of vehicles for under $2,000, but insurance will cost at least $1,500 for the first year in addition to gas and other sorts of maintenance. A cheap car only looks cheap if you focus on the now rather than the long-term. Will this be better than insisting that my dog ride in a carry case for four hours a couple of times every few months?

Summer will be here shortly and one of the things that I would really like to do is see some of the many sights around here with Ayumi. Heck, one of the reasons I wanted to have a dog in my life again was so that we could go places and see things together. Sure, Ayumi will be focussing more with what's on the ground or the people she might want to meet, but if travelling to parks or sightseeing locations will require a physical argument with my dog every time we are about to leave or return home², then going places will no longer be as enjoyable. Getting a car, even a cheap one that has just a few years of life left in it, may make sense.

I'll need to investigate some driving schools that offer lessons in English to see how feasible this endeavour might be. While I can do some things in Japanese, there's no way I could complete an entire course like this and take the final tests in the language.

If the decision is make to take lessons and buy a car, perhaps the next time Ayumi and I see Mount Fuji it will be from a highway rather than the bullet train.

1. My take-home excludes things like taxes, insurance, deductions, and legally-agreed-upon payments.

2. She really puts up a fight to stay out of the carry case, which is a shame, because it's a nice carry case.

This week, after almost 20 months of resisting demands from management on three continents, third-party tracking has been added to a number of the websites that I am responsible for maintaining at the day job. Every time that people had asked that Google Analytics, HotJar, or any of the other monitoring systems, I would explain why this was "a bad idea" and ask them a question: What data about our visitors do you actually need? It's a simple question but, after almost two years, I've yet to receive a single answer. People – Marketing people – insist on using the tools provided by tracking companies saying they're "industry standards" and "absolute requirements for KPI tracking".

Neither of these responses answer the question about what data is actually required, though. However, now that middle management has gone to the executive team saying they cannot do their jobs, my ability to reject implementing the trackers has pretty much evaporated. The president of the company and I have had many discussions about why I reject these things. He claims to be sympathetic. However, he also signs my paycheque. If he says something must be done, then there isn't much room for disagreement.

Two things have happened as a result of this:

1. The third-party tracking is now in place, providing companies like Google, Facebook, Tosho Trading, Bing, Yimg, afi-b, and others to receive data about students and potential customers who are visiting the sites I maintain
2. I have dusted off the resume

The general argument for web trackers that colleagues have used is that "it's industry standard" to use Google and other vendors to understand how people use websites. Just because something is "industry standard", though, does not make it right.

Paint used to contain lead to speed up drying, increase durability, maintain a fresh appearance, and resist corrosion caused by moisture. That was industry standard for three hundred years … until enough people suffered from high blood pressure, headaches, dizziness, diminished motor skills, fatigue, and memory loss to warrant its elimination.

Cigarette companies discovered a long time ago that adding acetaldehyde and certain types of sugars to their products made them more addictive. This was done even after these same companies knew that cigarettes were a leading cause of lung cancer. Regardless, it was industry standard to make these health-degrading products more addictive.

Web tracking is just as insidious as lead paint and cigarettes. Companies will claim that their tools are only for good, allowing people to see how visitors use their websites so that better decisions can be made about what to change, how much to spend on advertising, and where those advertisements should be seen. However, what these companies don't tell anyone is how they can fingerprint and watch a person as they use the web. A person who has certain political inclinations, or religious beliefs, or ideological leanings will very quickly provide all this information to Google, Facebook, and a myriad of companies they've never heard of. These trackers don't just see what sites you visit and for how long, but look at where the mouse is hovering, what words you are typing into comment boxes, which comments you interact with, and more. By providing tracking companies with this information, it becomes much easier to identify people who may not agree with a "narrative" that is being sold by a government or large entity. It becomes much easier for activist organisations to purchase access to this data in order to discover where they can stage events which will bring out the most resistance, thereby allowing them to appear victims. It becomes much easier for people with bad – or misguided – intentions to incite.

I find it insulting and completely unethical.

The reason I have asked people what sort of data they needed about the people visiting the websites I manage is because the vast majority of legitimate questions can be answered using basic tools. How many visitors does a page get? Where are people referred from? What browsers are being used? How long are people staying on the site? What items are they interacting with? All of these questions can be answered with simple queries that have been part of web servers for over a decade. Rather than farm out the task of analytics to companies like Google, this can be done completely in-house. Heck, done correctly, a company with lots of sites can have a self-hosted analytics package that collects this information and keeps it all private, respecting the privacy of the people who visit their pages.

This is what I have argued for well over two years, and particularly over the past 20 months, as middle-managers have sought to implement "industry standard" tools on sites that never needed the trackers to begin with.

However, I've been forced to acquiesce and it grinds at me. The decision goes against what I believe to be right for the people visiting the site. Sure, people can install ad blockers in order to mitigate the amount of tracking they're subject to, but people shouldn't have to.

So it's really time for me to go. Now that I am semi-single again, there will be much less resistance to my plans to change employment. As long as I can continue to pay bills on time, there won't be many complaints. The only question now, is where would I like to work?

There's no denying that now many not be the best time to look for employment, given the number of layoffs that have taken place in the tech industry this year, but I would rather have a job sweeping streets than disrespecting people's right to privacy.

For months I have debated whether it was right to invite another puppy into my life and last week the decision was made to get the apartment ready for one. Some basic supplies were acquired, as well as a bed, some toys, and a cage. It was important to me that things be arranged ahead of time to reduce the chaos that generally follows the arrival of an energetic, young mammal. The only question left to be answered was "Where will I find a puppy?"

There are a few pet shops in the surrounding neighbourhoods and I've been to them all. Most of the common domestic breeds were present except for Corgis. Miniature dachshunds, such as Nozomi, would appear on occasion. Would it be right to bring a dachshund home, though? Nozomi cannot be replaced. Perhaps a different breed, then?

Today I made the trek to Katsushika on the northern edge of Tokyo to look at some puppies. A reputable pet shop was selling dogs with a 30,000円¹ discount and there was a white-furred 柴犬² that I had seen online that piqued my interest. The question was whether that puppy would be interested in coming home with me.

When Nozomi and I met for the first time, she wanted to play right away and was chewing on my thumb until it bled. A week later she came home. Would this white puppy do the same? Would a different puppy catch my eye? Would I go and find a cat instead?

Too many questions. Sometimes it's best to just go.

The pet shop was quite busy with people looking at the many kittens that were playing in the one section of the store. I walked over to the dogs and saw a number of poodles, cocker spaniels, chihuahuas, and miniature dachshunds. There were also golden retrievers and french bulldogs. And, at the far end of the wall down at floor level, was a white-furred 柴犬. She was sleeping on a towel with a rope toy under one paw. After a short conversation with one of the sales staff, I was able to sit with the little dog.

Puppies must feel a constant amount of stress while they're in a shop. They're often separated from other dogs and kept in a cage where they can be seen from the front or the back. The environment is not at all a natural one and the noise from the vehicles outside is likely distracting. To make matters worse, there are strange creatures that walk on two legs who come along and touch them all the time. So when the little dog was on my lap, it was no surprise that she was quietly investigating me.

There was no biting. There was no barking. There was just sniffing here and there. While this was going on, the sales person and I had a conversation about the differences between this breed of dog and dachshunds. Then came the question: Would I like to bring her home?

Being an illogical sort of person, I asked the dog. She didn't show any signs of disliking me and was quite the calm puppy. I thought that we might be a good match for each other and agreed to bring her home. Paperwork was filled out. Money was exchanged.

"Have you decided on a name?" the sales person asked as she reviewed the forms I filled out.

"Yes. Her name will be Ayumi." I then explained why.

Ayumi's name is spelled with two kanji: 歩光. 歩 means "walking" or "progress". 光 means "light".

A little over an hour later, she was at home and exploring the apartment.

Some things I already know about her:

• she will pee on any soft surface, so the living room rug will be put away for a while
• she is fascinated by the camera shutter sound
• she loves to eat human toes
• she loves to play
• she is very good at using toilet sheets … when there are no soft surfaces around

Welcome home, Ayumi-chan.

1. 30,000円 is about $225 USD as of this entry.

2. Shiba Ken / Shiba Inu

Over the past few years I have tried to improve my writing. Better writing often leads to a better understanding of an idea, be it a question, a problem, or a memory. Given how easy it is for our emotions or biases to colour perceptions of a topic, the process of writing allows us to better separate ourselves from a subject when the need arises. Naturally, this doesn't mean that the things we write should be devoid of personality. What we should strive for when putting pen to paper, however that may be, is an absence of inaccuracy and an abundance of clarity.

The former is generally easier than the latter.

At the beginning of this year I made a number of changes to some habits so that I can invest more time in thinking. I no longer wear headphones while out and about in the world, using them only when talking to people through the phone or Internet. I carry something to write in at all times. I do not have music playing in the background all day to overcome the silence that permeates my life now. This has had a noticeable effect on how much time I spend thinking about important matters that were previously kept at bay by playlists, podcasts, and other distractions. Thanks to the reintroduction of "boredom", a number of realisations have been discovered and important decisions have been made.

That said, there is still one distraction that gets in the way of mental clarity: the internal monologues.

This is a plural because there are generally two thoughts that are vying for attention at any given time. There is one that is trying to focus on right now, whether it is work or reading or prayer or something else. Then there is that distracting voice that presents memories, asks off-topic questions, demands food, or something else that interferes with and sometimes overpowers the first. This is different from the "Voices of Self-Doubt" that I used to struggle with because the distractions are rarely demeaning or self-destructive. Instead, the distractions are more like a young child that runs around in an attic full of old boxes asking "What's this?", "How about this?", "Can I have this?".

Perhaps describing this voice as distracting is a little too generous.

One of the things I've been doing to try and reign in this internal "Chaos Monkey"¹ is to have a paper notepad next to me when trying to focus on a specific task. Some testing over the last few weeks has shown that when I write down some of the ideas that are being thrown to the forefront of consciousness, the distractions can be set aside for a short while. Time still needs to be dedicated later in the day to mull over the concepts and memories that were presented, but the main area of focus can continue to receive the bulk of my attention. What I find interesting about these half-thoughts and memory fragments is that, when looked at as a whole, a pattern emerges that can offer insights into a problem or something I thought I understood. It is as though the mind is saying "You're not done with this, yet".

What does this have to do with better writing? Quite a bit. The insights are written about in my journal, in a letter, or on this blog. Because a proper amount of time was afforded to them, what I write is generally – but not always – more concise, with fewer tangents that lead to nowhere. I also find myself to feel better afterwards, as if a small weight has been lifted off my shoulders; one less burden to bear.

The voice continues to cause interruptions throughout the day but, perhaps by attending to that monkey, it will eventually run out of things to say and I will learn more about myself along the way.

1. This term comes from a tool developed at Netflix that would randomly shut down parts of their infrastructure. This was done to ensure their systems were built to be resilient against failure. It's also a good term to describe the little voice in our head that is never satisfied with the present.

Today marks the beginning of a new calendar year, a day that many people enjoy with friends and family. The start of January is also a time where people over the age of 40 traditionally plan or begin their new year resolutions. It wasn't always like this. Just twenty short years ago new year resolutions were made by the vast majority of people regardless their age. What I am seeing a lot more recently is a growing number of people who announce that they will not make any resolutions for one of two reasons:

1. The resolutions will be broken before February, so why make them at all?
2. There is no need to make resolutions because we're fine just the way we are.

The logic behind the first reason certainly seems to make sense. We want to better some aspect of ourselves or our life but the resolution is just so grand or, more commonly, so vague that success seems an effort in futility. So, rather than redefine the resolution¹ we give up entirely.

The second reason, however, strikes me as remarkably shallow and narcissistic.

Every one of us has people we look up to. These personal heroes come from all walks of life, all professions, and all ages. We admire and emulate aspects of these people because they show us a better way to act or think or play or create or work or dance or love or learn or simply be. It's the people whom we respect that we strive to be more like. Heck, these role models do not even need to be real. How many of us grew up respecting a fictional character?

We emulate others – or how we perceive others – because we know that we can be better in some fashion. We can choose to be more mindful, more eloquent, more patient, more active, more inquisitive … more than we currently are. Nobody is "fine just the way they are". The only person who could even come close to having that distinction would be Jesus Christ, and goodness knows that none of us can live up to the standard He set.

New year resolutions are personal goals to become a better person. This benefits ourselves and the people around us.

With this in mind, choose an adjective that you would like people to associate with you by the end of this year and go for it. For me, I resolve to be more generous in 2023.

1. I like to use the SMART methodology here to ensure the resolutions are not so vague that identifying accomplishment seems impossible.