You load the program into the computer, and it begins its calculations. It’s computing. It’s working hard, and it’s going to take some time. People who tell me they are lost and running in circles have one thing in common: They say they keep listening to podcasts, reading books, watching videos, doing courses — taking in more and more information — and still don’t know what to do. Consider the computer metaphor for yourself. You’ve taken in so much information, and heard so many instructions. That’s enough input. It’s time for output. Run the program. Stop interrupting yourself with new information. Let yourself execute one plan of action, and see it through to fruition.

There was a crime out on Park Avenue today, so the police are gathering information. The police said, “This is great information. How sure are you of this?” That’s your brain, in the dark, inside your skull. It can’t see or hear, or experience anything directly. It interprets little signals sent through nerves, which is not much information to work with, so it’s often mistaken. But it tells you it’s completely sure. 100% positive. In each of these movies, the hero gets through it for the better. When he finds out his mind has been tricking him, it’s upsetting, but he adapts. His mind was at odds with reality but can now see the difference. It’s even a relief, because it explains some frustrating moments of confusion in his past. Since old beliefs were disproven, the hero takes in reality with clear eyes. He carefully proceeds with less confidence and more humility. So can you.

This book is about reframing — changing how you think about something — and choosing a perspective that’s useful to you right now, whether or not it’s universally true. This narrow definition is important because whatever you consider true is closed. No questioning. But when you say “not necessarily true”, it opens it up for reconsideration. Let’s look at “Useful Not True” in five steps: Your thoughts aren’t true. Reframe: Find better perspectives.

Here’s a story about my shortest date, and ketchup. I suggested we meet at a bar at 35th Street and 8th Avenue. Although she’s from New York, she didn’t know where that is. She said, “No.” OK, now I’m judging. Miserable voice. Doesn’t know the basic layout of the city she lives in. Two red flags. She said, in her weary voice, “I’m not going to tell you my last name. You could be a serial killer.” So a couple days later we met at the bar at 35th Street and 8th Avenue. She looked good. We said hello. I asked if she’d like a beer. She said yes. I brought two beers back to the table. So the first thing I say is, “Where do you think the word ketchup is from?” I looked at her and thought for a second. Miserable voice. Doesn’t know her city. Assumes I’m a murderer. And now doesn’t have the slightest bit of curiosity about anything — no willingness to engage in the tiniest bit of wonder. She said, “But you haven’t even had a sip of your beer!” Years later, I’m living in Singapore, which is next to Indonesia, so I’m reading a book about Indonesian history. It says there is only one word in English that comes from the Indonesian language. Ketchup. My instinct was right to walk out on that date. Little interesting things are all around us. But the uncurious will never know. ketchup photo by Betsssssy