Reality Laughs

I have deliberately chosen a hard path for 75 days: the 75 Hard challenge, suggested by my daughter.

Most of the things on the list are things I’m doing now. The difference is the rigor imposed by having a binary question to ask myself.

Did I or did I not drink a gallon of water today? (Previous aim: “drink a lot”).

Did I read 10 pages of a nonfiction book? (Previous aim: read every morning, which I am doing with the Stoics).

Binary is truth.

One target is a bit daunting: two forty-five minute workouts a day. I am on a three day a week gym schedule (Starting Strength) so this is a big change to life.

But really. What’s important to me? Physical health or . . . what? Given a “pick A or B” when A is physical health, there is no universe in which B is a good idea. (A few hypothetical situations to the contrary — like the soldier who jumps on a grenade to save his buddies. That’s not my life and those are not, realistically, going to be presented to me.)

Another is daunting in a different way: take a picture of yourself daily. I hate taking pictures of myself. When I see a picture of myself my reaction is not healthy: that person a stranger to me, and not physically appealing. I do not accept or like my physical appearance.

I had a casual convo with the neighbors yesterday. A casual comment about inertia went by. The inertia of having children, a mortgage, etc. Baggage.

I feel this intensely. I want to move to a different place. No forward momentum after a brief trip to Texas.

(Why do I want to move? Ask yourself this!)

I try to do different things with my business. Inertia holds me back.

(Why do I want to do different things? Ask yourself this?)

The house is full of clutter and bullshit. Something holds me back from a wholesale disposal-fest.

(Well, at least I know the answer to this. The items in the house over which I have sole control are vanishingly small. I have to consider the feelings of others when deciding whether to trash this or that.)

(But there is an answer to this, too.)

49a. It’s unfortunate that this has happened.

No. It’s fortunate that this has happened and I’ve remained unharmed by it—not shattered by the present or frightened of the future. It could have happened to anyone. But not everyone could have remained unharmed by it. Why treat the one as a misfortune rather than the other as fortunate? Can you really call something a misfortune that doesn’t violate human nature? Or do you think something that’s not against nature’s will can violate it? But you know what its will is. Does what’s happened keep you from acting with justice, generosity, self-control, sanity, prudence, honesty, humility, straightforwardness, and all the other qualities that allow a person’s nature to fulfill itself?

So remember this principle when something threatens to cause you pain: the thing itself was no misfortune at all; to endure it and prevail is great good fortune.

Meditations 4:49a

I’m living this right now with my Interesting Event. I won’t give details on the event because it is in mid-stream.

But! The Interesting Event is not taking me to hell.

Jordan Peterson says he as 3 or 4 productive hours in a day. The rest is just preparation to clear the deck for those hours.

It is exceedingly difficult to find truth. Truth can be obvious, but is usually elusive and required persistence. It’s a needle in a haystack of bullshit.

Easier: perceive and discard lies. Bullshit usually stinks. Truth gleams brightly in the light. Use your sense of smell to reject bullshit.

Especially watch for bullshit artists. Trees and fruit. By their fruit shall you know them.

Bullshit artists are a never ending fountain of more and more lies. Get rid of the source.

Like attracts like.

Or, another way to look at it: don’t be dumb. Don’t be clever, just don’t be stupid.

Don’t seek your passion. Stop doing things you hate instead.

And if you can’t figure it out, be agnostic.

If you wish to make progress, lay aside your alibis.

Epictetus, Handbook (Sam Torode’s version), 12

Mostly, “I am upset because X.” Whatever X is.

X didn’t make you upset. You did that to yourself.

Acceptance. Determination. These are the filters that keep me on The Path.

Lameness may strike your leg, but not your resolve. Sickness may weaken your body, but not your determination—unless you let it. The only thing that can impede your will is your will itself.

Each time an obstacle arises, remind yourself of this truth. While it may hinder some part of you, it cannot constrain your true self.

Epictetus, Handbook (Sam Torode adaptation), 9

Life is hand-to-hand combat with self.

Awakened at 4:50 pm by a troublesome dream and my bladder, I let the dog out and make coffee.

It is Saturday. There are obstacles, if you want to call them that. The 10,000 tasks.

Restrained by 10,000 strands, each of which alone is trivial. But collectively? Daunting.

It’s easy to hesitate, defeated by their sight. Or worse yet, I imagine that there are 10,000 (in reality there might be 50 or 100) and I create my own despair by my own self-created illusion.

Determination. Willpower.

Just do.

The burden I perceive does not exist.

I’m going through an 8/10 stress event at work. It has been going for about a week.

I don’t know how it will turn out: total black pill is what is most probable, I think, but . . . .

I’m calm.

I am tired and there is oh so much to do, so many decisions to make, so much unexpected expense. I’m calm.

The Stoic philosophy is powerful. I know what’s in my control and what isn’t. I know that action is essential. I know to run straight at the problem, without hesitation.

And I know that the situation is not of my making and the resolution will be what it will be. Yet the actions I take will determine the resolution.

This didn’t come from the Stoics alone. They are just the latest of my teachers.

The hardest part of this? Fatigue. So many thoughts in my head. Data, assumptions, if/then calculations for actions I could take. It’s exhausting.

But emotions? I’m good. I have equilibrium.

Pretty much everything thrown at me is designed to distract me while the real action is going on elsewhere. The good faith actors are few and can be identified — they are vilified wholesale. (Don’t make an error interpreting that sentence. I did not say V —> G or even G —> V.)

We are collectively under attack by, as Gurdjieff called them, broken machines. They go destructively beserk with almost comical aplomb.

Who will prevail? It is not entirely clear to me that civilized humans will.

Black pill.

Everything is propaganda. Everything is sleight of hand. Be wary of all you see and hear.

Grow intellectually, spiritually, and physically strong and find allies who value personal strength and integrity. Assemble small groups of allies. The countermeasures will become obvious.

We, collectively, will be here for centuries. We will outlast the onslaught of the berserkers. Many of us individually will fall. But we will prevail.

White pill.

By sheer willpower and desire.

When you are feeling upset, angry, or sad, don’t blame another for your state of mind. Your condition is the result of your own opinions and interpretations.

Epictetus, Handbook (Sam Torode version), 5

Embrace your weird, says Chris Williamson. I don’t want to, says me, because I’m afraid of what they think. Whoever “they” are.

The inner governor. That’s what David Goggins calls it.

The Chris Williamson/Jordan Peterson interview has Peterson saying this inner voice is the distilled average of all societal norms, implanted in you — plus the feedback loop of your own inner, personal, ideals.

The societal norm is to enforce the tall poppy rule. Strive toward the mean. Be the best normal of all of the normals. So that’s going on in my head all the time. Conform. It’s ok to strive and dream, but for the right things, accomplished in the right way. No room for embracing your weird here.

My inner ideals draw me toward my true desire. The other anti-tall poppy “fit in” attitudes push me away.

I don’t really know what I would be if I just let go and went for it. And what is “it”?

I feel as though I am trudging with 1,000 lbs in my backpack. I’m slowly reaching in and tossing baggage aside. Will I ever move with speed, light on my feet?

Drop the rock.

Remember SB. He gave the following to my brain as a seed. I have carried this thought seed for decades. By now I’m sure he is dead and I never met him or talked to him but . . . he improved my life with this little example.

You’re swimming, holding a big rock. It’s your rock. Your own special rock.

You are tired and will soon drown. A boat comes alongside and the people say “swim over here and jump in, we will take you to shore.”

You say “I can’t. My rock is too heavy.” And you continue to suffer, exhausted.

“Drop the rock,” say the people in the boat.

SB, on a recording heard long ago and far away.

That’s my mantra for the day. Drop the rock. On that path I will find my own weird to embrace.