The Vispassana of Programming (or Writing)

In Buddhist meditation, there are two forms of meditation: samatha, which is the kind of meditation where you focus on your breathing and calm yourself, considering only your capacity for compassion. The other form of meditation is vispassana, where you learn to appreciate the impermanence of your mind, you let the thoughts from your brain storm past and watch them go, letting them go without reacting to them. Through samatha you learn to make peace with the many modules of your mind, the skanhda, to their clamor and negotiation as they try to coerce you into action. With vispassana, you don't make peace with them. You just acknowledge them for what they are, let them rail without touching your inner peace, and go on with what you were doing before they rose to your attention.

In his recent TED talk on happiness and accomplishment, Shawn Archor shows that meditating only two minutes a day for twenty-one days will change your brain for the better.

And this morning, Zen guru Leo Babuta has posted the most succint guide to getting things done ever written, and it is a form of meditation. It has three parts:

Just start. This is the basis of all GTD. Just start.

Commit to working for two minutes. If at the end of two minutes you've made progress, don't stop. If not, stop. But that's it. Just two minutes.

Vispassana. As temptations to browse Facebook or Twitter or whatever arose, be mindful of them, acknowledge them, maybe even write them down. The urge will pass. Let it pass.

That's it.

Raclette Macaroni & Cheese

This evening I made our macaroni & cheese, but rather than use Wisconsin cheddar (or our favorite alternative, local cheesemaster Kurt Beecher's Flagship cheese), I decided to try using raclette, a cheese of Swiss origin that has a reputating for being ideal when melted.

It has a very similar flavor to cheddar, although its nose is much stronger and it has a pronounced bitter aftertaste. It was exquisite, and Kouryou-chan ate all of hers, although she said that it was much drier that Flagship (well, it did come halfway 'round the Earth, whereas Flagship I get from the cheesemaker's shop, where you can watch the curds being made). I think I may have put too many breadcrumbs on top, and that may have contributed to the sense of dryness.

Still, a worthy experiment. Next time I'm going to play with the complimentary cheese, which this time was run-of-the-mill 12-month Parmesan (not the stuff in the green cylinder).

Or I may go all out and make it with marscapone.