Sometime around high school, most folks (accidentally) learn about the stress-response curve. It looks something like this:
Too little pressure, and I'll take a nap on the couch. Too much pressure, and I'll take a nap on the couch. Only somewhere in the middle will I go from couch to desk and crank out some work.
Cognitive psychologists generally apply this curve to stress and productivity over longer time-scales. But for my brain, this curve makes the most sense at incredibly small time scales.
When I'm only doing one thing at a time, whether that's writing, coding, thinking, or talking, parts of my brain will be so incredibly bored. They'll turn off. When I'm doing too much at a time, I'll be afflicted with ADHD; nothing will get done.
My brain is happiest when it's doing around 2 to 4 things at a time.
Yesterday, I saw a fabulous Broadway play; Bad Cinderella, by the legendary Andrew Lloyd Webber (of Phantom of the Opera fame). It was a feast.
There were around four concurrent threads in my head. Thread one: Set, lighting, and choreography. Thread two: Music appreciation. Thread three: Analyzing the plot. Thread four: Actually watching the play.
And so there was this beautiful pitter-patter:
Whoever built the wire mannequins in the godmother scene actually coordinated the lights to shine through them to cast shadows on Cinderella, so she looks trapped by beauty standards...wow!
The percussionist is bonkers good did he just ring a cowbell while playing the drums with one hand??
Oh, this is the second song about Prince Charming being MIA. He'll jump in at the end.
I love how the silver necklace represents Cinderella's inherent value, but she traded it away for those glass slippers. But now Prince Sebastian is singing to the slipper after having reclaimed Cinderella's necklace; WTH does that mean??
that made the play soooo much better.
Obviously, it depends on how much brainpower each individual task takes. When I have a conversation in a language that I'm learning, I'll find the most dull things interesting, and really zone-in on that conversation: parsing through grammar rules, inferring unfamiliar new vocabulary, and picking up idioms and colloquialisms, in addition to, of course, talking. But in English or Chinese, I'll spend some time admiring the world around me; peoplewatching, picking up buildings and landmarks, and navigating. (Incidentally, I got lost a lot more in Barcelona than in London)
Similarly, when when my brain's preoccupied in deep coding, I'll usually put on a narrative podcast like This American Life, whereas while running, I'll pop in a different podcast in each ear; one that acts as background patter, like Nihongo con Teppei or News in Slow Spanish, and one that feels present. Hence, two earbuds at once.
I don't even think this is weird; it feels like lots of people operate this way. The average person speaks English at around 100-150 words per minute; faster when you're younger and more comfortable. With that in mind, my friend group clocks in at around 200 WPM.
How many of you watch lecture videos or Youtube on 2x speed? (Seriously, why doesn't YT just set 2x as 1x speed?)
I used to do Lincoln-Douglas and Policy Debate in high school. These activities include the fabulous practice of speedreading (spreading), where debaters make their arguments at breakneck (300+ WPM) pace. In a debate round, your brain starts buzzing. You're expected to take notes (flow) with your ears and your hands, generate questions and counterarguments with your brain, and search for evidence and prepare your next speech on your laptop.
When I started competing on the national circuit, I thought this was ridiculous. Debate was too fast! But after a couple tournaments, something shifted. Life became too slow.
To make my brain happy, I've become a bit more intentional about setting life to the right speed.