Taking the initiative to apply ingenuity to a task may require a different kind of effort than learning through simple repetition. If learning through repetition is about following an existing context, then applying ingenuity requires one to deviate, at least to some degree, from that established path. Today, countless “hacks” and “tips” for various tasks are introduced, particularly across the internet.
Does this imply that we are now expected to find “interest” or “fun” in every action we take? Certainly, deviating from an established context seems more engaging than merely following it. However, I feel that demanding such interest in everything is not without its drawbacks. This sense of “interest” is something that occurs within oneself; it is not the essence of the “thing” one is actually confronting.
Personally, I feel I have had many painful experiences by chasing only that kind of interest. The issue is not that ingenuity itself is bad, but rather that the original purpose is often lost in the process. Why are we applying ingenuity? Are we seeking joy in an immediate, mediocre result, or are we pursuing a better outcome and finding fulfillment there? Losing sight of this distinction leads to a confusion of means and ends.
It is true that applying ingenuity involves a certain degree of hardship. It is relatively easier to follow an existing context—it is akin to practicing how to walk a path that has already been cleared. On the other hand, ingenuity is lonely and fraught with risk, as it requires walking a path different from the one established. What, then, is the difference between following an existing context through repetitive practice and deviating from it through ingenuity?
Put simply, an existing context is something bestowed by others; it is the context that approaches you. Deviation through ingenuity, however, is an act of walking toward it with your own feet. Of course, for deviation to exist, the context must already be there. In conclusion, it seems that both repetitive practice and creative deviation are indispensable.
While I defined the existing context in repetitive practice as something bestowed by others, and deviation as the act of stepping away through one’s own initiative, the act of reading, for instance, can be seen as confronting an existing context and deviating from it by one’s own hand. One approaches or even collides with the writings and contexts left by predecessors, seeking a way to deviate from them. To me, reading feels like exactly that kind of endeavor.
If so, the very nature of reading becomes somewhat elusive. Perhaps this is a near-sighted view, but why must we walk a path already opened? Why go to the trouble of heading toward a path cleared by someone else, only to then try to deviate from it? Seeking a better method through deviation should not—and must not—be a mere quest for efficiency.
If we over-optimize the efficient predation of other living beings, those beings will be eradicated, and the survivors will be the last to die. This is not just a matter of chronological order. It is a question of who is sacrificed first and who is left to die a long, bitter death. Perhaps the act of deviating from an existing context is an attempt to escape such a predetermined conclusion.
