Harold's Blog

An Ecology of a Brain

Monday 3rd, February 2025

A couple years ago, I wrote I Don't Know How To Think. I was having a crisis about my capacity, or lack thereof, to think deeply about things. And I want to reflect a little on how I've tackled that since then. My goal was to do it through writing - on this site. Obviously that didn't happen, but I won't be blogging about blogging again.

I thought that writing was the necessary component, that I can unlock the mechanics of thought through braindumps and journals and poetry. But over the past year or so, I've realised that what really makes the difference is a much more... ecological approach to my mental health.

There's been a lot of things that have forced me to finally get a handle on this. One is something I've been avoiding writing about for some time. In summer 2023 I lost my brother very suddenly, in the immediate fallout I was forced to stay in the present moment. I didn't really have any other option. But in the following months, I'd notice weeks of time all but disappear. Not memory lapses, but just a total lack of engagement on my part. Phyisically present but distant in every other way. Thankfully, I had people around me that meant that this didn't cause a complete downward spiral, but it was hard for them. Especially my amazing girlfriend, who was unbelievably supportive and understanding when I wasn't being part of my own life.

This sense of absence wasn't new, it was an acute version of the feeling I described in the post linked above. This time it felt much more stark, much more urgent, and much more likely to ruin my life, frankly. I had to figure out a way to stay in my own head and be present for the people around me. Wistfully journalling about this issue once a year wasn't going to cut it.

A problem I had was that I was always looking for a silver bullet. One weird trick to fix me. I just need to meditate every day. I just need to journal. I just need to go for a walk. I just need to make stuff. Each of these ideas worked but only as for long as I did them, obviously. And the thing about a monoculture is that it's extremely susceptible to collapse. One day off of meditation. One blank page in the diary. It's all gone. Another month disappears behind me and I need to be dragged back to the present by the grim realisation that I'm not doing too good.

This came to a head when I started a new job in January 2024, this job demanded a lot more of me. Suddenly these lapses of attention were having drastic impacts on my ability to work and, over time, were compounding to the point that things were serious. Something had to change.

Again, thanks to the support of the people around me, I was able to start formulating a new framework for my own mental health. There was no single practice that worked. There was an ecosystem that needed to be built and cared for. I needed to be an attentive gardener, prodding soil and checking the underside of my brain for mites.

What I've learned, and what I'm hoping will stick this time, is that I need a well-rounded approach. I do need to meditate, and journal, and create things. But I also need to be aware of what's achievable and when. Meditation is no good when I have zero down time. But what I can do in that situation is commute with no headphones on and get some thinking done there. Journaling is great, but fills me with dread when I look at blank weeks in my page-a-day, so I've bought a notebook with custom date fields that lets me fill any and all pages I want.

So I'm done trying to find the answer. I'm working on it. Actively doing the things that help. All of the different things. Not trying to become a different person that's better at all this. Not hoping to find the habit that changes me. But instead, just doing the changing.

I'm not all the way there, I still have occasional lapses where I get a little complacent. But I've realised that there are things beyond the One Big Thing. And using those things. Talking, writing, creating, listening, not listening, being still, being active. I used "one weird trick" in jest earlier, but I suppose I really did get suckered in by the mindset, the assurance that I just need to make one small change and I'll be fixed.

I'm done trying to hack my brain and win.

Now I'm just trying.