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🦆 CHILL THE DUCK OUT

Volume 047: Version 1.0 Thinking

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🦆 Cold Open

Last week, I was in a group session for my screenwriting program where we were pitching story ideas to Scott, a producer who's made approximately 30 made-for-TV Christmas romances. We're talking Christmas at the Amish Bakery. A Royal Icing Christmas. The man has produced more festive small-town bakery meet-cutes than you can shake a candy cane at. For anyone in the Christmas romance world (hi, me), Scott is royalty.

The setup was simple: pitch your story concept, get feedback from an actual producer who knows what works and what doesn't. Easy enough, right?

Except watching this session was like watching three completely different species of humans have three completely different experiences in the same Zoom room.

Group 1: The Camera-Off Crew

These brave souls kept their cameras off the entire time and never pitched. They had ideas, presumably (or they'd paid for a very expensive spectator sport). But the fear of being told those ideas weren't good enough kept them safely hidden behind their black squares. They showed up without actually showing up, which is a special kind of self-protection that also guarantees you learn nothing.

Group 2: The Sliced Bread Believers

These were the people who pitched their ideas like they'd just discovered fire. Their story concept was brilliant. Flawless. The best thing since sliced bread, and honestly probably better than sliced bread because sliced bread doesn't have a charming veterinarian who moves back to his hometown to save the family Christmas tree farm.

And then Scott would give feedback. Gentle, constructive, professional feedback about what wasn't quite working or what needed some tweaking. And you could watch it happen in real time: the devastation. The visible deflation. The body language that screamed "but I was SURE this was perfect." It was like watching someone's soul leave their body, except the soul was their attachment to being right and it was really committed to not leaving.

Group 3: The Cautious Optimists

And then there were those of us (I'm including myself here at about 90% of the way into the group) who tossed out our ideas with the energy of someone saying "I made this casserole, it might be good, it might be terrible, but here it is." Hopeful but not married to the outcome. Open-handed. Ready for whatever feedback came back.

When Scott gave feedback to this group, we took notes. Asked follow-up questions. Nodded enthusiastically at suggestions we hadn't thought of. We were lighter about the whole thing, like people who understood that writing is less like building a perfect house and more like making pottery where the first seventeen attempts look like sad blobs and that's fine because that's how you learn to make a bowl.

What I noticed was that the people in Group 3 were noticeably less stressed. Nobody was suffering. Nobody was defending their brilliant veterinarian Christmas tree farm concept like their firstborn child was being criticized. They were just... learning. Being in the room. Participating in the process without needing validation that they'd already nailed it.

Meanwhile, Group 1 was so afraid of being wrong they didn't even show up. And Group 2 was so attached to being right that every piece of feedback felt like a personal attack on their entire existence.

The session wasn’t just about screenwriting. This was about everything.

How many times do we approach life like Group 1, avoiding situations where we might be wrong or criticized? How often do we show up like Group 2, so invested in our idea, our perspective, our way being the correct way that any challenge to it makes us miserable and defensive?

What if we approached more of life like Group 3? Open-minded. Willing to be wrong. Ready to adjust. Understanding that getting it right is a process that involves being wrong seventeen times first, and that's not a character flaw, it's just how literally everything works.

Being open-minded doesn't just make you better at screenwriting or whatever skill you're trying to learn. It makes you less stressed. More adaptable. Happier. Better at relationships when you don't have to win every argument. Better at work when you can take feedback without spiraling. Better at being a human navigating a world that stubbornly refuses to conform to your expectations.

The people who walked away from that session the lightest weren't the ones with the best ideas. They were the ones who held their ideas loosely enough that feedback couldn't crush them.

So this week, we're talking about why open-mindedness reduces stress, how psychological flexibility makes you happier, why being attached to being right makes you miserable, and how to practice the kind of cautious optimism that lets you grow without suffering through every correction like it's a personal tragedy.

🧠 The Science Bit

Let's dig into why the cautiously optimistic people in that pitch session were lighter and happier, and why clinging to being right is basically volunteering for unnecessary suffering.

Psychological flexibility is like yoga for your brain. Research in Acceptance and Commitment Therapy shows that psychological flexibility (the ability to adapt and hold beliefs loosely) is one of the strongest predictors of mental health. Studies show that people high in psychological flexibility experience less anxiety, depression, and stress. When you're rigidly attached to your idea being right, any challenge activates your brain's threat response like a bear just walked into your living room. When you hold ideas loosely, feedback is just information and your nervous system can chill out. No bears, just suggestions.

Openness to experience makes you happier. Research on the Big Five personality traits shows that openness (curiosity, flexibility, willingness to consider new perspectives) consistently correlates with life satisfaction. People high in openness don't just tolerate new information, they're genuinely curious about it, which is why they experience less stress when things don't go as expected. The Cautious Optimists weren't suffering through feedback because they were actually interested in what Scott had to say. The Sliced Bread Believers were too busy defending their veterinarian Christmas tree farm to learn anything.

Attachment to outcomes is a happiness killer. Buddhist psychology has been saying this for thousands of years, and now neuroscience backs it up. Research shows that strong attachment to specific outcomes activates stress responses and increases disappointment. When you're devastated by feedback because you were attached to your idea already being perfect, you're creating your own suffering. The idea was never going to be perfect on the first try. Your attachment to it being perfect is the problem, not the feedback.

Being open to feedback is literally how you get better. Research consistently shows that people who are receptive to feedback (rather than defensive) show greater skill improvement over time. The Camera-Off Crew learned nothing because they hid. The Sliced Bread Believers learned less because they were too busy being devastated to actually hear what Scott said. The Cautious Optimists learned the most because they showed up expecting to be wrong about some things. That's not pessimism, that's strategy.

🍟 This Week’s Happytizer

This week, instead of defending your ideas or avoiding situations where you might be wrong, practice showing up with cautious optimism. Be open to the possibility that you might not have it figured out yet.

Here's how:

1. Identify one area where you're being rigid.

Where in your life are you acting like a Sliced Bread Believer? Where are you so attached to being right that any challenge feels like a threat?

Maybe it's how you parent. How you do your job. Your political views. Your opinion about what your spouse should do differently. Your screenplay idea.

Just name it. "I'm being rigid about this."

2. Practice saying "I might be wrong about this."

Out loud. Not as a way to be fake-humble, but as a genuine acknowledgment that you're operating with incomplete information and your current understanding might need adjustment.

"I might be wrong about how to handle this situation." "I might be wrong about what my kid needs right now." "I might be wrong about this story concept."

Notice how your body feels when you say it. Does it feel threatening? Or does it feel like relief?

3. Seek feedback on something (and actually be open to it).

Pick something you're working on and ask someone you trust: "What do you think? What's not working?"

Then just listen. Don't defend. Don't explain. Don't justify. Just take notes.

You don't have to agree with all the feedback. But you have to be open enough to actually hear it without your defenses going up.

4. Notice when you're attached to being right.

Pay attention to the physical feeling of needing to be right. The tightness in your chest. The urge to argue. The defensiveness rising up.

That physical response is your cue: you're attached. You're in Sliced Bread Believer mode.

When you notice it, take three breaths and ask yourself: "What if I'm wrong? What would I learn?"

5. Try the "Version 1.0" mindset.

Whatever you're working on, whatever you believe, whatever approach you're taking, tell yourself: "This is Version 1.0."

Not the final version. Not the perfect version. Just the first attempt. Which means Version 2.0 will be better because you'll learn from this one.

When you pitch your idea, present your work, or share your perspective as "Version 1.0," feedback becomes expected and useful instead of threatening.

6. Celebrate when you're wrong.

When you get feedback that shows you were wrong about something, practice saying: "Oh good, now I know better."

Not sarcastically. Genuinely. Because now you actually do know better. You just upgraded from Version 1.0 to Version 1.1.

The Cautious Optimists in that pitch session weren't devastated by feedback because they expected to be wrong about some things. That's why they were there.

Permission slip for the week: You are allowed to not have it figured out yet. You are allowed to be wrong, adjust, and try again. You are allowed to hold your ideas loosely enough that feedback doesn't destroy you. This isn't weakness. It's how you actually get better.

Reflection questions:

• Which group are you usually in? Camera-Off Crew, Sliced Bread Believer, or Cautious Optimist?

• What would change if you approached one area of your life with more openness?

• What are you so attached to being right about that feedback feels like a threat?

💬 Tell me about your openness

Are you Camera-Off Crew, Sliced Bread Believer, or Cautious Optimist? What would change if you approached one area of your life more openly?

📩 [email protected]

If this made you realize you've been suffering because you're too attached to being right, share this with someone who might benefit from holding their ideas a little more loosely.

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🫶 Duckin’ Done

That's Volume 047.
Here's to cautious optimism, holding ideas loosely enough that feedback can't crush you, and remembering that Version 1.0 is supposed to be imperfect and that's why there's a Version 2.0.

Until next time: breathe deep, stay open, and chill the duck out.

Jason

🔬 Behind the Curtain

In a world of either toxic positivity or doom-scrolling pessimism, finding the balance of realistic optimism has never been more important for mental health and actually achieving our goals. Tali Sharot's research documents the widespread optimism bias, while Martin Seligman's foundational work established how expectation styles affect life outcomes. Gabriele Oettingen's mental contrasting research and WOOP method demonstrate that combining optimistic goals with realistic obstacle planning produces superior results. Carol Dweck's growth mindset work and Charles Carver's studies on stress reduction show that believing in growth while acknowledging current reality leads to better wellbeing and achievement.