A big part of what I do.
Whether it’s welcome back to the sandpond saga, or sorry to interrupt or this is an arrow or one thing I know about screens or no music or oh berd, I’m consistently trying to create a sticky sentence or a— or repeating refrain, that feels poetic to an extent, but not too much. It keeps the pace ticking along— keeps the momentum going. It feels like progress when it happens, like little checkmarks that you go past, like a loading bar filling up.
The other benefit is that it creates a meme, a secret message, that community members can pick up and use to indicate that they belong to the story or— to others that they are part of the crowd, like a gang sign or an in joke. When someone repeats one of those phrases— collections of words, they add to the repetition and contribute to the lore, as well as taking part in a bigger group— the cult (ha) or the community.
I mean— it— I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m trying— I’m not trying to make it sound bigger than it is. By repeating a phrase again and again, it’s an invitation for others to join in and say “I know that” and add their own spin to it. It’s copying something but changing it a tiny bit each time.
Once a repetition has been established— repetition is great because, when a repetition has been established, it sets you up to break it.
Break a repetition, or— break a repetition to indicate change, or add a twist or some rebellion. You can’t create a sense of chaos without first establishing order— some sticky words.
Repetition is a simple pattern. Do something, then repeat it. Then repeat. And it creates an expectation that it will continue, which allows you to make— create a fun moment by breaking it. I mean this is such an easy thing to do in story telling or joke telling or any kind of entertainment. Create an expectation and then— then break it.
So in my next youtube video, what do you expect to happen? I’ve already told you that I’ll Make Sand In 99 Different Ways, but is that really what you expect?
Surely you know by now that my videos have twists in them, and they don’t do what I say they’re gonna do. I said there would be no music but there was.
Right now, I’m saying that I’ll Make Sand In 99 Different Ways, but do you believe me? Will I really Make 99 Sands? Surely not! That’s way too many sands.
I’ve now created a pattern of “breaking the pattern”, so you can reasonably expect that I’ll break the pattern again, by doing a twist. So maybe I won’t Make 99 Sands In Different Ways.
But that would be expected, so perhaps it would be more unexpected to do something expected. So now you might be thinking that “the real twist will be that there’s no twist” and maybe I Will Actually Make 99 Sands This Time.
But of course, that’s now the expected thing, because that’s the pattern that has been established. So to do something truly unexpected, I need to do something completely different.
You’ll have to wait and see :)
Change is scary. Repetition represents the lack of change. Repetition is comforting.
Every day, in the morning, at school, when I was a teacher, I said the same things every single morning, in the morning.
“Let’s get started” is one thing I repeatedly said, which has also become a recurring pattern in the SandPond Saga.
Many of the children I worked with benefitted from routine, repetition. We did the same things every morning, we followed the same timetable, did the same things at the same times in the same ways. Of course there were alterations, but they were all grounded by the base routine. Everything was relative to the repetitive norm. Without it, it would be chaos.
The children appreciated the routine, and it helped to reassure them. No matter what happened, at home or in school, we always did the register at the same time in the same place in the same way and I said the same things.
And funnily enough, I became attached to the routine as well. I lived and breathed repetition and grew fond of it. Anything could happen! The world could end— fall apart. A pandemic could come and a lockdown could start and everything could get thrown into the air. And still, we would still do the register at the same time in the same place in the same way and I said the same things again and again and again.
It was something to hold on to, to grip tight in your— in a world of chaos, a repetitive routine and ritual can be a saviour. I stuck to it.
I also stuck to posting one new clip every day on my social media(s). It was my bio for many years
NEW
THING
EVERY
DAY
And I do my weekly updates every week, and I have done so for years. No matter what happens, whether it’s holiday or work or winter, summer, chaos or not, there will always be a weekly update, and I will always say “TODEPOND PONDCAST” or “TODEPOND TIMES” or whatever it is, and “WHATEVER YOU’RE DOING, WHEREVER YOU ARE, I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT WEEK” at the end or near.
If there is nothing else we can count on or hold on to, we will all always be able to rely on the fact that— The world could end, and there could be nothing else left, but there will always be a weekly update, there will always be a TODEPOND TIMES, until the very very end of the SANDBOY SAGA.
Listen. I’m sometimes late, and things sometimes go wrong, but I always make it work in the end, even if it means doing a double episode or bringing out my emergency backup or using text to speech or— I mean, right now, I have this week’s update sitting in drafts, ready to go, and I just need to push it out, but I’m on holiday, so I haven’t done it yet, but will do soon.
You see, when I was a teacher, there was no possibility of being late. If I wasn’t ready, and those— No matter what, the children and families would arrive at 8am every morning, and so would my team, and everything needed to be ready for everyone. There weren’t any excuses or delays. It amazes me to see the delays in other fields and places of work. You’re ready or you’re fired!
Routine can also be a prison. Repetition can be a trap.
If you’re stuck in a repetitive cycle, it can feel like there’s no way out. You can feel constrained and limited, confined to a box.
“Things must be and remain the way they are! And there’s no way out.”
Some children hated the repetition that school imposed on them. It was boring. And it was stressful. It felt like they had no control. Even if they liked the routine, even if they enjoyed it, it could still feel like a curse. They felt the pressure to continue it, to stick within its bounds.
And it was absurd at times. It felt ridiculous to do the exact same things so many times. It felt like madness.
Some children found it hilarious that I said the same things again and again and again, and one once forbid me from ever saying the phrase “Let’s get started” ever again, because it made them laugh. So every day— So we picked up a running joke that I would have to think of an utterly unique, completely new way of saying “Let’s get started”, every day, just to mix things up.
“Let’s make something new.”
And of course, that routine then became the routine, and I had to mix it up just a little bit, but not too much, because that would become the routine.
There is no escape from repetition. That’s the only way we do things, by continuing on from one moment into the next, repeated but slightly changed.
This play on— around repetition was just a bit of fun, just a joke. But as well as being a joke, it’s also something that we all felt (all the children and staff). It’s what we felt as we grappled with the mind numbing repetition of the school routine.
It can be depressing.
Knowing that you’re in your routine, doing the same thing again and again, not travelling anywhere, not trying anything new. It can be depressing.
It’s safe— It feels safe. But it’s miserable.
If you don’t have the courage to break your habits and your status quo, with no bravery to become a scrappy fiddle, you can end up giving up, and accepting your current holding pattern, your repetitive fate.
Meanings come from correlations, and correlations come from repetitions.
When you see a word at the same time as you see something else, you start to form a meaning.
“Hot” is when it burns your mouth or finger, or you start to sweat.
“Mum” is when you see that person.
“Biscuit” is when you get that yummy snack.
I call these when-based definitions and you might notice that I use them in all my videos and blog-posts. They’re when-based because they’re based around a “when”, not based around an “is” like normal.
I think it feels more natural, and it better represents how we really experience the world. It’s by connecting together patterns and repetitive events.
And I think it leaves more room for flexibility. It’s context dependent, and it acknowledges its incompleteness. It feels more like advice. “Here’s how to spot this thing.”
Don’t get “stuck in the land of is” (a phrase that Dave Ackley introduced me to.
When you get yourself and your work out into the world, at first it— you have— has no meaning. Nobody knows what to call it— you. They don’t know how to place you— it.
“What is this? I don’t know this.”
Meaning can be fought for by placing the same word, or symbol, beside a thing, again and again and again.
I can place a red frog on top of my work, and you’ll begin to put them together in your head. And that red frog can start to mean something, represent something. You can start to grow your when-based definition.
You must name your projects. Otherwise they don’t exist, and nobody can talk about them. Without a name, your project gets inlined, and dies.
But naming takes time. Names need to be earned before they land. You need to say a name at least 99 times before it sinks in, if not more.
There is no point in waiting until the end, until the artifact is ready and done and finished. If you wait until the end to put a name on your thing, then it’s already too late. No one will feel it. It won’t feel natural, and it won’t be part of the language. You won’t have earned or grown the when-based definition.
Repetition is when the same thing happens again and again.
It’s important to say words that are sticky. Otherwise you’re just noise.
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