Just One Thing

Here is one thing I recommend:  Keep a file called “One Thing.”

About seven years ago, I created a Word document on my laptop entitled “One Thing.” The idea was that I would write down one thing — just one — that I gleaned from every book I read, every movie I saw, every podcast I listened to, every conversation I had, every speech I attended, every place I visited, and so on.

I’ve kept my pledge — more or less. And now this collection of One Things has grown to A Few Thousand Things.

These One Things are sometimes profound, sometimes absurd. Some are a sentence long, some are a paragraph. They are a mix of direct quotations, paraphrased insights, anecdotes, facts, and statistics. But they are all things I’ve deemed worthy of remembering for one reason or another.

Here is a very random sampling from my list:

1) While painting the Sistine Chapel, Michelangelo wrote a desperate poem to a friend about how this project was going to fail and that he wasn’t meant to be a painter.

—From a biography of Michelangelo, and excellent proof that every artist, no matter how brilliant, battles self-doubt.

2) “You think Lou Bega hit it out of the park with Mambo Number One? No! But he kept at it.”

--From Bojack Horseman about the importance of persistence.

3) New York City used to have several shops devoted to umbrella repairs.

—From a dinner conversation with an urban planner in which she was highlighting our current wasteful, throw-away culture.

4) “You not the king of your brain. You are the creepy guy standing next to the king going, ‘A most judicious choice, sire.’ “

—From blogger Steven Kaas’ description of how humans are prone to rationalize our biases and instincts.

5) “Moi? Pretentious?”

—The shortest joke in the world, according to the book Stop Me If You’ve Heard This: A History and Philosophy of Jokes by Jim Holt.

I adore my random collection of One Things. I keep a copy in my Notes app on my iPhone and scroll through it when I’m waiting in line at the drugstore or taking the subway. The list has enriched my life in many ways (as I explain below)

What prompted me to start this list? Mostly my horror at my colander-like memory. Julie keeps a list of movies we’ve seen together. A few years ago over dinner, Julie read me the list. It was jarring. I couldn’t remember the plots and details of most of the movies. But worse, there were a bunch of movies I had no recollection of even seeing at all. Nightcrawler? Really? I spent two hours of my life watching it? It rings zero bells.

I realized the same was true of books I’d read, tourist sites I’d visited, and conversations I’d had. They were gone. Vapor. I had spent hours, days, years consuming all sorts of fascinating culture with very little in my brain to show for it. What a waste. I don’t think I’m alone. Human memory is notoriously bad. We forget most of life.

So I decided: What if I at least try to extract One Thing from every movie, book, conversation, et cetera? I could handle one thing. It didn’t seem overwhelming. Granted, plenty of books had several things worthy of remembering, but I worried about overreach. If I tried to record too much, I’d lose my motivation and end up with Zero things. So I’d face the flood of information by focusing on filling little cups. I’d curate my life so I’d have my private museum of curiosities. I’d scavenge One Thing even when the book/movie/podcast was mediocre or worse. Because everything has a nugget worth saving, even if it’s an example of what not to do.

I also made another promise: I’d factcheck stuff before putting it in my file. I don’t want to clutter my mental attic with misinformation and disinformation.

How do I love my One Thing list? Let me count (some of) the ways:

• The list is a wonderful alternative to doomscrolling. This is not toxic stuff, not junk info. This is high-quality, brain-healthy info as vetted by me. And thanks to the way human memory works, I’m often (usually) surprised anew by these nuggets.

• It’s a breeding ground for fresh ideas. My list provides inspiration both for new projects and current projects. For instance, when I was writing The Puzzler, I was working on a section about the dangers of certainty. I stumbled across a Bertrand Russell quotation while reading my file: “The fundamental cause of the trouble is that in the modern world the stupid are cocksure while the intelligent are full of doubt.” And it’s not always stumbling. I add tags to my One Things entries (e.g. “mental health” or “creativity”) and can search if needed.

• It’s conversation fodder. Just one example: A few months ago, I had lunch with the great magician David Kwong. Thanks to my One Thing file, I’d recently been reminded of an astounding story of an eighteenth-century feud between a Chinese magician and a white magician pretending to be Chinese. I brought it up with David, and it led to a great conversation — he happened to be an expert on said feud.

• It gives me a sense of comfort. I hate that feeling of looking back on my past and finding nothing but fog. With my list, I have my collection of tangible goodies. My mental pennies in a piggybank, my album of vacation photos but for thoughts and ideas.

• It reminds me of the richness of the world. In one file, I get to see snippets from anthropology, music, animal husbandry, sports, fashion, and on and on.

• It’s good for my mental health. I’ve created sub-lists within One Thing devoted to certain topics. For instance, I have a sub-list devoted to anti-anxiety strategies (e.g. “Get curious, not furious,” gleaned from a seminar on child psychology).

As with all things, my One Thing file is not a totally original idea. While researching my book The Year of Living Constitutionally, I ran across the practice of Commonplace books. In centuries past, many people - including some Founding Fathers - kept highbrow scrapbooks. They were a mishmash of quotations, ruminations, recipes, and household tips. Some Commonplace Books were expertly organized (philosopher John Locke’s had an alphabetical index), while others were more haphazard.

As a fan of writing by hand (with a quill!), I plan to experiment with a physical paper-and-ink commonplace book. But in the meantime, I’ll keep adding to my digital file.

Well, I’m hoping you found at least One Thing worthy of remembering from this essay. I’ll end with additional nuggets from my One Thing file, in case you find them interesting or helpful:

• Bach wrote The Coffee Cantata, a song about a girl who drinks three cups of coffee a day, which infuriates her father.

From a podcast about Bach — and a good reminder that as a parent, I sometimes need to chill out).

• “I’m not sure who this Rorschach guy is, but he sure loves drawing pictures of my dad not being proud of me.”

From comedian Matt Koff, an excellent illustration of confirmation bias.

• Everyone focuses on the fact that Icarus flew too close to the sun and died. But what about Daedalus? He flew and landed safely. He was a human who successfully flew! Can we focus on that? Why the negative bias?

From a conversation with a friend who was pointing out humans’ tendency to focus on the bad (and perhaps a display of toxic positivity).

• “My mama always compared bad thoughts to a bird in a barn. If a bird flies into the barn, you can acknowledge that there’s a bird in the barn, but you don’t have to suddenly make a nest for it. Just let the bird fly in, and it’ll eventually fly out.”

From Rachel Bloom’s memoir, I Want to Be Where the Normal People Are, quoting her voice teacher’s distillation of cognitive behavioral therapy.