#39: Depth
If I asked you about the maximum degree of intensity you could possibly cope with, you would certainly wonder what type of intensity I was talking about. Rightly so.
Does Mariana Trench sound familiar? What about CoC = Ds / (V x Dp)? 1 bit? Speed of sound in water?
These are all references to the technical measurement of depth. Ocean depth. Depth of field. Color depth. Sound depth. There are formulas at hand for these types of depth.
Measuring depth of knowledge, depth of relationship or depth of purpose is somehow trickier, even if, or perhaps because, these definitions aren’t commonly used.
We shouldn’t worry too much about this measurement challenge either. Depth is almost a relic of the past. It has been superseded by width. Aren’t we constantly aiming for more rather than better or deeper?
Brilliant storyteller Martin Shaw demystifies the hunger for width in knowledge as follows:
«The capacity to be three miles wide and two inches deep is, I think, becoming one of the passports of our time; that’s how we think we’re sophisticated. We know a little about an awful lot of things.»
Similarly, Dunbar’s number challenges the benefit of expanding one’s (digital) social network beyond 150 people:
Dunbar casually referred to it as «the number of people you would not feel embarrassed about joining uninvited for a drink if you happened to bump into them in a bar.»
Going deeper requires determination. You undoubtedly reach a point, or a level of depth, where you are pretty much on your own. This is not where the hip crowd hangs out. Moments of illumination are becoming rarer and scary.
This leaves me with the ultimate quest for personal depth:
1. What do you want to do?
2. Why is that important to you?
3. Why is that important to you?
4. Why is that important to you?
5. Why is that important to you?
6. Why is that important to you?
7. Why is that important to you?
