The fuel that drives me . . . is insecurity.
It’s an infinite source of energy.
Don’t cap the well. That just lets pressure build up.
Discard the idea that I will somehow magically decide to not be insecure, and the burr under the saddle goes away.
Acknowledge the feeling of insecurity. Look at it. Live with it.
Then, with certainty, use that feeling as fuel to act. “Yeah, I’m alone, afraid, frustrated. Let’s do this anyway.”
A week traveling.
The routines I have embarked upon? Discarded. The self-imposed ban on distracting social media? Gone.
Hours of scrolling through Tik Tok, sleep patterns disrupted, no exercise, no reading and meditation. No writing here, to tease a thread of clarity from the confusion.
State of mind: depressed.
It’s time to reset. It’s to get simple.
New fuel, because I need to mix it up. Same message, different messengers.
They are not obscure, in fact they are pop stars: Rogan, Willink, Goggins. They say nothing new: focus, discipline.
Reading Seneca this morning about virtuous men who are mostly unknown during their lifetimes, I think: YouTube and Spotify bring me these messengers. In another time they might languish as local heroes, their wisdom available to only a few. Yet they are my friends, my guides, exhorting me to greatness.
Seneca reference: Letter 79, starting around paragraph 13.
It wasn’t one of them (I think) but somewhere on my searches I found a combat vet who was asked “what do you miss about combat?” He said “the simplicity.”
It’s time to reset. It’s time to get simple. Life is hand-to-hand combat with self.
Road trip.
Objective: relocate?
Conclusion: plausible.
Insomnia: confirmed.
Greetings from Dallas.
Seneca reminds me to not grab for the freebies:
The most sensible man, therefore, as soon as he sees the dole being brought in, runs from the theatre; for he knows that one pays a high price for small favours.
Letters, 74:7.
That lines up with Nassim Taleb’s comments about pitches: if you are being pitched on the benefits, look out for the hidden detriments, for surely the payoff from the benefits is less than the damage to you, hidden from sight by the salesman.
The Emperor bought servitude from the masses by passing out coins and food at the games, at festivals, etc. The average man had a meal, a trivial amount of spending money. Then nothing.
The Emperor had a supine population ready to serve his will.
Compare today. The $600 checks handed out in Covid times. The PPP checks handed out to businesses.
Has my sullen servitude been purchased?
One more thing. I was told (correctly) to search for the quiet men, smiling and calm, in the back of the room. Avoid the loud and flashy men proclaiming their virtue and wisdom.
Seneca continues:
No one will grapple with him on the way out, or strike him as he departs; the quarrelling takes place where the prizes are.
All of the bullshit and turmoil exists where the freebies are handed out. Stay away from the chum.
I’m going to start noting down the principles that matter to me. This is the first one.
“It worked for you, so it will work for me.”
That exact sentence, which went through my head so often 30+ years ago, is true.
The principle is that results come from actions. I can look at someone else’s actions and results and mimic them.
Mimicry works.
That other person experiences collateral effects as well. My collateral effects might be different. But the 80/20 rule lets me cheerfully ignore the collateral effects and focus on garnering the main object.
These fragments are parked here for later, because there is an idea here I want to remember and explore.
Seneca talking about virtue in Letter 71:22.
At this moment the man who measures the souls of all men by his own is shaking his fist in my face because I hold that there is a parity between the goods . . . .
And . . .
[C]ritics think that whatever they themselves cannot do, is not done; they pass judgment on virtue in the light of their own weaknesses.
The idea that I want to explore is how people (meaning me in particular) use their opinions as the metric for saying someone or something is virtuous.
The reason that Wittgenstein’s Ruler came to mind is that a judgment expressed is more informational on the person making the judgment than on the judgment itself.
Seneca is saying that virtue is the supreme thing. It’s as straight as it can be. There is nothing straighter. Virtue should be self-evident, then. All actions prompted by virtue will have that linear quality.
Seneca continues:
To a luxurious man, a simple life is a penalty; to a lazy man, work is punishment; the dandy pities the diligent man; to the slothful, studies are torture. Similarly, we regard those things with respect to which we are all infirm of disposition, as hard and beyond endurance, forgetting what a torment it is to many men to abstain from wine or to be routed from their beds at break of day. These actions are not essentially difficult; it is we ourselves that are soft and flabby.
And then, at 71:24, we find Wittgenstein’s Ruler:
We must pass judgment concerning great matters with greatness of soul; otherwise, that which is really our fault will seem to be their fault.
“That which is really our fault will seem to be their fault.”
Boom.
Seneca:
“The whole race of man, both that which is and that which is to be, is condemned to die. Of all the cities that at any time have held sway over the world, and of all that have been the splendid ornaments of empires not their own, men shall some day ask where they were, and they shall be swept away by destructions of various kinds; some shall be ruined by wars, others shall be wasted away by inactivity and by the kind of peace which ends in sloth, or by that vice which is fraught with destruction even for mighty dynasties, – luxury. All these fertile plains shall be buried out of sight by a sudden overflowing of the sea, or a slipping of the soil, as it settles to lower levels, shall draw them suddenly into a yawning chasm. Why then should I be angry or feel sorrow, if I precede the general destruction by a tiny interval of time?”
Letters from a Stoic, Letter 71:15.
Remember that when you’re bemoaning the State of the Nation.
Start with the idea that I can self-hypnotize by infusing myself with happy. This, let me assume, is possible. I can read happy books and articles. I can choose happy thoughts. I can listen to happy music.
Let’s also assume I can choose toward actions, thoughts, and words that are happy.
I have no idea if this will work or not. But let’s test the hypothesis. It can’t hurt and it might work.
First, the daily meditations. As much as I love Marcus Aurelius, let’s see what else there is. Seneca, maybe?
I’m more or less operating on the thought from Naval Ravikant that happiness is peace in motion and peace is happiness at rest. Peace and happiness I get in small doses, almost at random (seemingly). How can I cultivate them?
Hmmm. Start by finding that part of Naval’s podcast and listen to it again.
What is possible for someone else is possible for me.
The introduction to the translation of Meditations that I read (by Gregory Hays) notes that it is fundamentally a book about how to defend against pain, not a way to find joy.
Marcus does not offer us a means of achieving happiness, but only a means of resisting pain.
Meditations, Kindle location 612
It’s worthwhile for you to look at this. You are what you eat, so to speak.
Just as you have deliberately turned to classical music and away from the routine music you listened to before, maybe it’s time to read books that create joy. Focus on offense rather than defense: create happiness rather than defend against sadness.
It’s just a thought.