Yesterday I revisited a 22-page thing I wrote at work about 9 months ago.
Yes, it was useful. But it had about 18 pages of “too much” added to it.
I, the reader, cursed myself, the author.
Add more brevity next time. Prose like a punch in the face.
Yesterday I revisited a 22-page thing I wrote at work about 9 months ago.
Yes, it was useful. But it had about 18 pages of “too much” added to it.
I, the reader, cursed myself, the author.
Add more brevity next time. Prose like a punch in the face.
Children learn by watching their parents.
I only figured this out as an adult, when I started watching my dad in action. He is almost 92.
Specifically, I have watched the way dealt with my mother’s illness and death, selling his big house and downsizing, and taking other countless steps that were necessary but uncomfortable.
He looks fearlessly at the prospect of his own death, and takes the necessary actions. By example, he has shown me the way to grow old. What a gift!
I hope to be as fearless and proactive. I am starting to make tiny decisions that acknowledge my own mortality. How can I make it easier for my family when I die?
One way: get rid of shit. The stuff I have? It’s just stuff, not some priceless fucking heirloom.
I semi-dread the implications of inheriting a bunch of stuff from him. A few things, sure. But how many paintings does a person need? Furniture? Where will I put it?
Having a thing as a remembrance, a totem, has ceased to be important to me. I will remember my parents with or without that circular, hand-carved table. Or any other thing.
For me, I’d like to get as close to naked of possessions as I can. Die owning nothing except the clothes on my body.
Give things to the kids now if they want it. Dump it otherwise. We have three sets of dishes in the kitchen, FFS. Why?
Cause and effect. Pattern recognition.
If I say to myself “I am going to do X” but I don’t do X, I feel bad.
If I attempt and fail, I’m not so sad. Or I’m sad in a better way. (Plus I gathered useful data from failing).
It’s intent and desire without any action that kills me.
The lazy solution: Never set goals, large or small. Do random, reactive shit instead. Human behavior propelled by Brownian motion.
Fuck that.
Constructive solutions:
And the winner is . . . all of the above.
Aim low. “Do one push-up” instead of “go to the gym for two hours and be a Barbell God.”
Keep the task list short. Say no to more stuff.
Continue to be fierce, self-reliant, self-disciplined, focused. If it is an ancient virtue, treasure and nurture it. Build those mental muscles.
And don’t have self-critical opinions. Life is all a giant experiment, N = 1. I am the mad scientist and the lab rat. My mentors (Seneca and Marcus Aurelius) will guide me and remind me. Consult with them frequently.
Slightly better yesterday.
What’s happening is not what I intend. However.
What I intend is “Work only on the first job”.
What I actually do is put out fires in my inbox, then — as new fires present themselves — attempt to completely pre-solve the projects they are attached to.
Example: new project yesterday announces itself ready. I spent much of the day organizing information, making an overall project roadmap, and then making a more detailed roadmap of a segment of the project. I did a minor amount of actual project work (three quick emails), instead staying at planning level as much as possible.
My theory is that time invested now will make my future life easier.
Noble intention, but it meant that my most important project got less attention.
Today: I have three phone calls scheduled. Aside from that, nothing. Stack ranked project number 1 will be in front of me on a clean desk.
Marcus Aurelius, I sympathize. Your life must have been worse. I’m reading your book right now. Back to paper, not on the Kindle App. Thank you for writing your thoughts almost 2,000 years ago.
Perfection of character: to live your last day, every day, without frenzy, or sloth, or pretense.
Meditations 7:69.
Reminds me of The Frenchman packing his footlocker carefully before each operation, given the high risk of his death every time he went out.
Really, all I’m looking for is this. An Emporer’s advice:
The first step: Don’t be anxious. Nature controls it all. Before long you’ll be no one, nowhere—like Hadrian, like Augustus.
The second step: Concentrate on what you have to do. Fix your eyes on it. Remind yourself that your task is to be a good human being; remind yourself what nature demands of people. Then do it, without hesitation, and speak the truth as you see it. But with kindness. With humility. Without hypocrisy.
Meditations 8:5.
In other words, calm down and concentrate on the most important thing.
Calm comes from knowing you’ll be dead soon enough.
Concentration comes from doing what I’m meant to do, what my nature naturally produces, and what Nature demands of me.
Yesterday I didn’t do the stack-ranked number one at all.
Detachment reveals self to self. I had “reasons” for what I did, but it was lack of discipline that is the reason. It felt better to not do the stack-ranked most important work.
Today I will, amongst the shit already littering my calendar. If it’s not on my calendar today it won’t happen, except for stack-ranked number one.
I’m overwhelmed with things to do.
I keep adding new things to do.
This is unsustainable.
Attack:
What matters most?
Start now.
All opinion is contextual. All advice is biographical.
As soon as you see it, and you know something should be done about it . . . FIX IT.
The twin minor (and transitory) health events have me running at less than full compression. The usual Mexico travel-related symptoms 😀 are still with me, and a minor medical treatment yesterday has the side-effects the nurse warned of.
Action.
State of mind is low.
Into action.