I really enjoyed talking with you last night, especially the way we felt free to jump from topic to topic in an organic way. Did you know that many learning processes employ chaos as an optimization strategy? Check out eagles, whose eyes dart from this random location to that in search of field mice. It's the same thing scientists do when they go home when work is done, rub their eyes, and let their minds wander in search of some clue they might have missed during the day.

Yes, mutual growth is the keyword here. As long as we're both willing to grow we have nothing to worry about. The way I see it, when creative people appear to disagree what is really going on is 1) either the first has something important to learn from the second, or 2) the second has something important to learn from the first. If they're both willing to learn — if they view this moment of stress as an opportunity rather than an annoyance — then the winning strategy is to roll up their sleeves and get to the bottom of who has more to teach in that instance. Once they've solved that problem, they can happily go on to the next learning opportunity. In real life, this process usually takes less than a minute, but of course it can also go on for months and ultimately offer life-transforming revelations.

Conventional people, on the other hand, often cling to exactly the wrong strategy. Since they have graduated college they are now rigidly learning-phobic. Each assumes he's right and formulates smug speeches designed to "demolish his opponent", as if life were a fraternity debating society. After acting like verbal pugilists for as long as possible — a particularly self-destructive form of machismo — they wear each other out until one of them gets angry and decides he'd rather lose a friend than put up with any more of this arrogance and dogma.

Conventional people we must do something to help them or they will destroy the world!

I just woke up from a refreshing nap. In my dream it was a hundred years in the future when young people no longer need to distrust older people. One after another I met three young people who were just learning to play interesting instruments like the harpsichord. When they heard I played the violin they were eager to schedule a public performance with me — but they had no music. When I offered to write some, they agreed to give it a try. We parted laughing and enthusiastic about our new project and our new friends.

My heart is singing.