“The reason we’re confused is that we see self-control and our individual performance as totally dependent upon ourselves and what we do, which is right, and as having nothing to do with anyone else, which is wrong. The truth is that, while our self-control and performance is totally in our control, it derives much of its sustenance from the power of our formative relationships.
Self-control, agency, self-efficacy—all hallmarks of psychological health that undergird performance—are built and supported in relationship to others. The degree to which you are going to soar depends in part upon finding your… partners, who empower your sense of self-control.”
The Power of the Other
by Henry Cloud
So I came across this book and thought it would be about how much we give power to others, how we can be dragged down or unmoored by negative influences. About holding our own individuality, setting good boundaries, standing up for ourselves, NOT letting the power of others control or overwhelm us.
And it is kind of the opposite.
It’s all about how much we need others to help us grow. How we can do our best to reach a new level, to push forward, on our own—but we are limited. Alone, self-dependent, there’s only so much we can do, only so far we can go without support. We need new insight, new information, new energy coming in.
The power to grow, to change, to overcome, to see new options, to reach a new land doesn’t come from inside of us. Yes, we contribute. Yes, we have to choose. Yes, we have to act. But we can’t make ourselves more than we are without new resources coming in from outside of us. And these resources— this energy, this help—comes from others.
“For centuries, philosophers, psychologists, theologians, and spiritual thinkers have struggled with something called the mind-body problem, the fact that the invisible has a real effect on the visible, and vice versa. …the neglected truth is that the invisible attributes of relationship, the connection between people, have real, tangible, and measurable power.
The undeniable reality is that how well you do in life and in business depends not only on what you do and how you do it, your skills and competencies, but also on who is doing it with you or to you.
Who is helping you? Who is fighting you? Who is strengthening you or resisting and diminishing you? These people are literally making you who you are.”
This is a big shift in thinking from the philosophical approach which I’ve previously held, the way I tend to approach goals and growth, which is something like: Get your s**t together, because your life depends entirely on your choices and your actions.
And that’s not… untrue. It is true. But responsibility, even radical responsibility—while important—is but one step in a bigger process.
Maybe it’s the first step. Maybe it’s the fifteenth. I don’t know. I do know it’s like I’ve been repeating this one step, over and over again, wondering why I’m not moving forward, why I feel stuck.
Move on to the next step, dummy.
So let’s say that this concept is the next step: recognize the power of the other. Acknowledge the need for relationship.
“… it is in relationships that our minds are actually built.
To get to the next level of performance, you certainly do have to think differently, but to think differently, you have to have a different mind, and your brain has to fire differently. To develop these differences in your mind and brain, the equipment in which thoughts and feelings and behaviors are embodied, you need to connect in ways that rewire you.”
Ah, now I see why I’ve been hesitating, stuck, trying to avoid this step.
It’s almost certainly going to lead to something I don’t like: Moving from caretaker to cared-for.
Opening enough to be vulnerable, truly. Not in some preplanned, I will reveal a limited amount of a somewhat vulnerable thing kind of way. This sounds more demanding and intense than that. Uncontrolled and uncontrolling. Revealing need. Admitting I need help and then—maybe—asking for it.
Yuck. Gross. Ugh. Ew.
How about… I just go for a run and take a cold shower instead?
Or read 15 more books? Or (I KNOW!) write about it.
Oh. Guess I went with option 3.
Honestly, I’m not real sure how to approach the relational angle. Not in the sense of I’m afraid to reach out (although I probably am) but more in the sense of: what exactly am I asking for? What do I want? What am I looking for?
What is this whole relational supporting-each-other thing supposed to look like? How do you “connect in ways that rewire you”? How do you identify and grow the relationships that help you grow? Is it just about having trustworthy people you can talk to? Do you need to find relationships with a specific angle, expertise, or mentor-like quality?
“Whatever we hope to achieve, our success depends on relationships with others. Without the help of others or with negative dynamics from destructive others, we will usually fail. There is no standing still. We are either thriving in relational energy and growth or we are going backward, slowly or quickly.”
Well, no pressure then.
Honestly, I have felt discouraged by this whole concept, this others-dependent approach. Not that I don’t value relationships. I do. Probably more than I ever have before in my life, I am seeing how important they are. How they can destroy you or hold you together. How different relationships with different people give you different things. How opening up to who you are may start with going in, going deep, focusing on yourself, but it can’t stay there. Relationships help us see ourselves, and accept ourselves, and grow, in ways we can’t all by ourselves.
I think the discouragement comes from not knowing how.
Our society has very few relational models and most of them suck. They’re tired and limited, stuck in patterns and roles that aren’t healthy or fulfilling.
Breaking out of those roles and patterns in my primary relationships—with myself, as a woman, a wife and a mother, has been most of my work for the last year or so.
And it’s been a lot of work. Rewarding. Immensely worth it, a dozen times over. But, at times, confusing and painful and kind of awful. It’s ongoing. Old habits are tough to break. Lifelong roles create a deep rut, and it’s always easy to fall back in those ruts.
So thinking of how to move out of roles and patterns, how to rethink friendships new and old, build them in different, better ways, let go of old, limiting norms, gain the courage to say screw it to expectations and go forward with what feels right… Well, it feels like a lot. Maybe it is a lot.
If it’s anything like all the other demolishing and rebuilding, it’s worth the effort.
I guess this is just one more piece of the puzzle, but it’s a puzzle that still feels confusing, or incomplete. Maybe I have all the pieces, maybe I don’t: but I don’t know how to put the damn thing together. Or even begin trying.
Maybe… maybe I’ll call a friend. And ask. You know… for help.
‘“As long as you are alive, your heart and mind and soul will be searching for a connection. An “other.” Several others. A community that will bring life, all the ingredients of life that you need to get past the limit of your present existence and performance.”
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“To put it still more plainly: the desire for security and the feeling of insecurity are the same thing. To hold your breath is to lose your breath. A society based on the quest for security is nothing but a breath-retention contest in which everyone is as taut as a drum and as purple as a beet. We look for this security by fortifying and enclosing ourselves in innumerable ways. We want the protection of being “exclusive” and “special,” seeking to belong to the safest church, the best nation, the highest class, the right set, and the “nice” people. These defenses lead to divisions between us, and so to more insecurity demanding more defenses.”
The Wisdom of Insecurity
by Alan Watts
Alan Watts wrote this small and very approachable book called The Wisdom of Insecurity and it is good and full of wisdom and I like it but also,
I still don’t like insecurity.
Insecurity is uncomfortable. More than uncomfortable. Insecurity is deeply unsettling, debilitating, sinister. Insecurity makes me question myself and every decision I’ve ever made. Insecurity says things that I don’t want to hear, and says them in my own voice.
In fact, I feel insecure right now.
“The more we try to live in the world of words, the more we feel isolated and alone, the more all the joy and liveliness of things is exchanged for mere certainty and security. On the other hand, the more we are forced to admit that we actually live in the real world, the more we feel ignorant, uncertain, and insecure about everything.”
I spend a lot of time in the world of words, slicing and dicing my experience of reality into categories and labels, analyzing and categorizing for myself and others. Words serve a purpose, of course. Many purposes, many of them good.
But words can be imprisoning. They give validity and substance to things that need to come and go. Words can provide substitutes we’d be better off not having: stringent accuracy instead of full open-hearted honesty, pale sickly consistent authenticity instead of passionate unpredictable messy and inconsistent emotion.
“Only words and conventions can isolate us from the entirely undefinable something which is everything.”
Words create a weird scenario in which we can be right without feeling right, and that messes us up in all sorts of ways.
“Your body does not eliminate poisons by knowing their names. To try to control fear or depression or boredom by calling them names is to resort to superstition of trust in curses and invocations. It is so easy to see why this does not work.”
So here I am feeling insecure, and of course I figure this is an ideal time to write about insecurity. Because apparently I enjoy pulling my emotions out—like some sort of alien creatures that’ve lodged in my chest—and picking them apart with words and definitions and metaphors, and then asking a bunch of other people to read what I’ve figured out (or tried to figure out) because, I guess, why the hell not?
(Maybe the first question I should ask myself is WHY?, and then move over to Why not? But it seems I also enjoy doing things backwards, leaping first and looking later, boldly striding into situations I know nothing about and probably cannot handle and then realizing, Oh f**k now I gotta handle this.)
“I feel cut off only because I am split within myself, because I try to be divided from my own feelings and sensations. What I feel and sense therefore seems foreign to me. And on being aware of the unreality of this division, the universe does not seem foreign any more.For I am what I know; what I know is I. The sensation of a house across the street or of a star in outer space is no less I than an itch on the sole of my foot or an idea in my brain.”
Insecurity is a pervasive, deep-down feeling that we don’t notice until we do. Until we can’t help but notice.
Then we feel it in relationship to something or someone else, and because we’re short-sighted little humans, we think: “Oh, I feel insecure about this person or that experience or this other thing over here.”
But the reality is that when we feel insecure, we can feel insecure about absolutely anything. The root is deep. The expression looks for something convenient to attach to. Then we get stuck on the attachment rather than dealing with the root cause of the insecurity.
“We can hardly begin to consider this problem unless it is clear that the craving for security is itself a pain and a contradiction, and that the more we pursue it, the more painful it becomes. This is true in whatever form security may be conceived.”
WHY is a good question to begin with, as it turns out: WHY do we feel insecure in the first place, about anything? What are we so afraid of? What threatens us? Who judges us?
A big part of our problem is seeing ourselves as separate: separate from each other, separate from nature, separate from the rest of reality.
If there is separation, there is fear: fear of loss, of not having, of scarcity, of misunderstanding, of rejection, of hurt, of loneliness, of aggression. There is fear of all the bad experiences we would never choose to give to ourselves: we would choose the good for ourselves, always! But now there is separation: now there is Other—something outside of me, something standing apart—and if it is separate from me, perhaps it is not like me. That whole idea brings up all sorts of unpleasantness.
“As a mirror of our own inner division, we have fragmented the world into inner and outer experience. We embrace our separateness without realizing that there is only one reality. The universe is a single process occurring in consciousness (“the great stream”), and only by merging into that process can we discover who we really are.”
Because we are afraid of what is not like us—what is separate—we use words and conventions, definitions and labels—to try to understand it, categorize it, predict it. The more we do this, the more we see differences, which we creates a bigger sense of separation everywhere, between US and everything/everyone else.
The more separation we feel, the more we want to define and understand and predict, so the more we label and categorize and analyze, so the more differences we see, and on and on we go: creating more separation in our attempt to feel safe. And why do we need to feel safe? Because we feel separated.
God, what a messy loop.
“What we have to discover is that there is no safety, that seeking is painful, and that when we imagine that we have found it, we don’t like it.”
There is no safety, because there is no static point where everything stops, is fully understood, hold in a familiar form. Life is change. We are change.
No change, no growth, no movement? That means no life. Maybe the only place that feels safe is Death. Ironically, death seems to be what most of us are most afraid to experience. Yet in our search for safety, we build all sorts of little static prisons that hold us tight and still, mimicking death. Then we hate them.
Rightly so.
Life has no time for dying.
“…you cannot understand life and its mysteries as long as you try to grasp it. Indeed, you cannot grasp it, just as you cannot walk off with a river in a bucket. If you try to capture running water in a bucket, it is clear that you do not understand it and that you will always be disappointed, for in the bucket the water does not run. To “have” running water you must let go of it and let it run. The same is true of life and of God.”
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“That which can be destroyed by the truth should be.”
WE DON’T KNOW, OPRAH, THAT’S WHAT WE’RE TRYING TO FIGURE OUT.
Map and Territory
by Eliezer Yudkowsky
Map and Territory is actually the first book of a larger ebook called Rationality: from AI to Zombies, and is a collection of essays about rational thinking. You can access all of these essays at LessWrong.com.
Here’s a direct link: click the gray “Start Reading” button.
It’s an approachable and nicely organized look at rational thought: what it is, how to do it, and what stops it from happening for most of us.
Let’s start there, maybe.
Thinking rationally is really about comparing what you expect to happen with what does happen—noticing where things line up, and where they don’t, and adjusting your expectations and trying again.
In other words, rational thinking isn’t a set of beliefs or logical proofs or rules. It’s a way of thinking, or trying to think, and the goal is to think in a way that matches up with reality, as much as possible.
Rational thinking can help us form more accurate expectations, and then use them to navigate reality better:
“Instrumental rationality, on the other hand, is about steering reality—sending the future where you want it to go. It’s the art of choosing actions that lead to outcomes ranked higher in your preferences. I sometimes call this “winning.””
Helpful.
Thinking rationally does not mean being emotionless. This is not a thinking versus feeling dichotomy, which is good.
“When people think of “emotion” and “rationality” as opposed, I suspect that they are really thinking of System 1 and System 2—fast perceptual judgments versus slow deliberative judgments. System 2’s deliberative judgments aren’t always true, and System 1’s perceptual judgments aren’t always false; so it is very important to distinguish that dichotomy from “rationality.” Both systems can serve the goal of truth, or defeat it, depending on how they are used.”
Our fast perceptual judgments can be based on a long history of rational thinking, knowledge collecting, experimenting, and noticing. So they may turn out to be true, most of the time. And our feelings may encourage us to make quick decisions that “feel right”—those hunches, intuitions, that gut feeling—and then they turn out to be correct.
This goes along with Robert Greene’s idea in Mastery that a hallmark of mastery is an intuitive knowing about one’s chosen field or area of interest.
“Becoming more rational—arriving at better estimates of how-the-world-is—can diminish feelings or intensify them.”
We might use rational thinking to find out that something is true and we wish it weren’t. When rational thinking destroys a closely held little bit of magical thinking, for example, you might feel sad and disappointed.
When rational thinking supports a decision you already want to make, or removes an obstacle you’ve feared, you might feel better.
Either way, feelings don’t make a thought rational or irrational. And feelings—strong feelings, lots of feelings—do not mean you’re bad at thinking. That’s kind of a relief, honestly.
“But I know, now, that there’s nothing wrong with feeling strongly. Ever since I adopted the rule of “That which can be destroyed by the truth should be,” I’ve also come to realize “That which the truth nourishes should thrive.” When something good happens, I am happy, and there is no confusion in my mind about whether it is rational for me to be happy.”
There are a few terms, or descriptions, which popped up and explained things that I’ve felt or done or experienced but didn’t have a way to describe.
For example, the illusion of transparency:
“Closely related is the illusion of transparency : We always know what we mean by our words, and so we expect others to know it too.
…Be not too quick to blame those who misunderstand your perfectly clear sentences, spoken or written. Chances are, your words are more ambiguous than you think.”
I don’t go back and read my own writing very often, and whenever I do I always hit a point when I’m like “What the f**k was I talking about here?” Yeah. I get confused by my own writing. Editing helps, of course, but that’s too bad for you poor suckers on my email list because these babies get only the most cursory glance before I send them out. Fresh out of my brain in all its confusion and inconsistency, straight to you. Sorry about that.
Anyway, we also have a tendency to focus on the details so much that we completely lose sight of the big picture:
“A society well-protected against minor hazards takes no action against major risks, building on flood plains once the regular minor floods are eliminated.”
A great example of this is when someone wrecks their car because they were trying not to spill their coffee.
Or when we put all our energy into getting the external details lined up—better job, safer car, 401k, new curtains, getting that dental plan added to our health insurance—and then wake up one day and realize: “F**k, I’m totally miserable and I hate my life.”
That sort of thing.
Focusing on the minors and ignoring the majors is a common problem.
It’s easier to fix details than to deal with big st. And, when you have some big st to deal with that, and you’re not, it puts you on edge. Then you really can’t handle the details falling apart, because you’re on edge, you’re feeling unstable or unhappy—and you need some way to feel better, like everything is okay, like you’ve got it handled.
I am convinced that this is why many women, at some point in their lives, become super controlling about many very minor household and family details. I know that this was certainly the situation for me. It still is, at times. If I’m upset about some bigger issue, but either can’t do anything about it or am ignoring it because I don’t know what to do, then I have a low tolerance for minor stuff going wrong.
On the other hand, when I feel good about the majors—secure, okay, peaceful—then the minor stuff is no big deal, even if if it does go wrong.
It turns out that when you are able to deal with the big s**t, to make some headway on the majors, you don’t have to care as much about the details.
Let’s talk about ignorance:
“But ignorance exists in the map, not in the territory. If I am ignorant about a phenomenon, that is a fact about my own state of mind, not a fact about the phenomenon itself. A phenomenon can seem mysterious to some particular person. There are no phenomena which are mysterious of themselves. To worship a phenomenon because it seems so wonderfully mysterious is to worship your own ignorance.”
That’s a good one.
Last quote, which made me think a lot about writing, and why I do it, and what I hope to accomplish, and what I’m looking for when I read or study or research or discuss things I care about with people I trust:
“Rational thought produces beliefs which are themselves evidence. If your tongue speaks truly, your rational beliefs, which are themselves evidence, can act as evidence for someone else. Therefore rational beliefs are contagious, among honest folk who believe each other to be honest.”
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Mastery by Robert Greene
I first read this book a few years ago. It took me a few months to get through: the first half was slow going, but the last half I read in a few days.
Now I'm reviewing it as I write up these notes, because it's one of those books that would go on a Most Influential Books list, if I had one of those.
Good s**t.
Greene talks about finding your main thing in life. He calls it your life's task. Frankly, I'm wary of this type of philosophical approach to work. It feels a lot like opting-out of responsibility (that is, making a choice) and bowing to some vague idea of destiny. Who is assigning these tasks? Why do we all have one? And how can you ever be sure you figured out what your life's task really is?
Maybe we should take a look at how Greene actually defines a life's task, instead of me criticizing what I think he might mean:
"All of us are born unique. This uniqueness is marked genetically in our DNA. We are a one-time phenomenon in the universe--our exact genetic makeup has never occurred before nor will it ever be repeated. For all of us, this uniqueness first expresses itself in childhood through certain primal inclinations.
...How can we explain such inclinations? There are forces within us that come from a deeper place than conscious words can express. They draw us to certain experiences and away from others. ...This primal uniqueness naturally wants to assert and express itself... It has a natural, assertive energy to it. Your Life's Task is to...express your uniqueness through your work."
To Greene, fulfilling your destiny, or accomplishing your life's task, is to allow your uniqueness to grow and express itself as fully as you can.... which may sound very fluffy, like bad career advice along the lines of just-follow-your-passion-and-it-will-all-work-out. But Greene is clear about the amount of work you have to put in. He's also clear about what happens if you're not willing to put in the work and you settle for some mundane course of life:
“If you lose contact with this inner calling, you can have some success in life, but eventually your lack of true desire catches up with you. Your work becomes mechanical.”
And then he comes around with statements like this:
“We must create our own world or we will die from inaction.”
And this:
“The passive ironic attitude is not cool or romantic, but pathetic and destructive.”
He goes on to talk about what might keep us from doing our own work, following our inner voice and unique force:
"What weakens this force, what makes you not feel it or even doubt its existence, is the degree to which you have succumbed to another force in life--social pressures to conform. This counterforce can be very powerful."
Check that. It's tough to trust the internal voice of your own unique individuality over all the combined external voices of... pretty much everybody else.
But overcoming social pressures and the call to conformity is key to becoming what Greene calls a Master:
"Some people never become who they are; they stop trusting in themselves; they conform to the tastes of others, and they end up wearing a mask that hides their true nature. If you allow yourself to learn who you really are by paying attention to that voice and force within you, then you can become what you were fated to become--an individual, a Master."
The entire first section of the book is dedicated to helping you define (or discover) your life's task. A few points stand out:
Work is more than work.
"[This inner voice] emanates from your individuality. It tells you which activities suit your character. And at a certain point, it calls you to a particular form of work or career. Your work then is something connected deeply to who you are, not a separate compartment in your life. You develop then a sense of your vocation."
"...you must see your career or vocational path more as a journey with twists and turns rather than a straight line."
"It is a globalized, harshly competitive environment. We must learn to develop ourselves. At the same time, it is a world teeming with critical problems and opportunities, best solved and seized by entrepreneurs--individuals or small groups who think independently, adapt quickly, and possess unique perspectives. Your individualized, creative skills will be at a premium."
"Feeling that we are called to accomplish something is the most positive way for us to supply this sense of purpose and direction. ...Our evolution as a species has depended on the creation of a tremendous diversity of skills and ways of thinking. We thrive by the collective activity of people supplying their individual talents. Without such diversity, a culture dies. Your uniqueness at birth is a marker of this necessary diversity. To the degree you cultivate and express it, you are fulfilling a vital role. "
So, look: no pressure, but the preservation of our species depends on you finding your life's task and mastering it. Right? We better get to work.
The second section of the book discusses apprenticeship. There are lots of ways to be an apprentice. The key is to choose opportunities that "offer the greatest possibilities for learning" and "move toward challenges that will toughen and improve you, where you will get the most objective feedback on your performance and progress."
A key point of growth--often accomplished in one type of apprenticeship or another--is the refusal to give up when learning becomes very difficult.
"What separates Masters from others is often something surprisingly simple. Whenever we learn a new skill, we frequently reach a point of frustration--what we are learning seems beyond our capabilities. Giving in to these feelings, we unconsciously quit on ourselves before we actually give up. ...The difference is not simply a matter of determination, but of trust and faith....filled with trust in the process, [Masters] trudge on well past the point at which others slow down or mentally quit."
The third section is about finding guidance from mentors. We might use the word expert instead: seeking out those who are experts, who excel in some particular way that is important to the work you want to do, is important for two reasons. First, it helps us learn the skills needed to raise our quality of work--to truly operate at a level of master. Second, it's a shortcut to success:
"When we learn something in a concentrated manner it has added value. We experience fewer distractions. What we learn is internalized more deeply because of the intensity of our focus and practice. Our own ideas and development flourish more naturally in this shortened time frame."
As with apprenticeships, there are lots of ways to find and learn from and work with mentors. And it's important to note that, given time and effort, you will outgrow your mentors. At that point, it's time to move on with gratitude, or transform the mentor relationship into something more like a partnership.
Moving on.
Section four is all about social intelligence, which is really learning how to see people as they are, not as we imagine them to be.
"The most effective attitude to adopt is one of supreme acceptance. The world is full of people with different characters and temperaments. We all have a dark side, a tendency to manipulate, and aggressive desires. The most dangerous types are those who repress their desires or deny the existence of them...You are an observer of the human comedy, and by being as tolerant as possible, you gain a much greater ability to understand people and to influence their behavior when necessary."
There's a great deal of insight here, and strategies for increasing your social intelligence, but we could sum up by saying: watch the patterns. Trust what people do, over time, rather than what they say or the identity they present:
"What you want is a picture of a person's character over time...restrain yourself from the natural tendency to judge right away... your goal is to identify and pierce through to what makes people unique, to understand the character and values that lie at their cores.
Discard the exterior and focus only on their actions and you will have a clearer picture."
At the same time, remember that--most of the time--you won't be given that same degree of attention over time. People will judge, and they will judge quickly, and they "will tend to judge you based on your outward appearance." Greene's advice is to be aware of this tendency, and work with it:
"...turn this dynamic around by consciously molding these appearances, creating the image that suits you, and controlling people's judgments. ...In this diverse, multicultural world, it is best that you learn how to mingle and blend into all types of environments, giving yourself maximum flexibility. You must take pleasure in creating these personas--it will make you a better performer on the public stage."
Section five explores how to take the knowledge gained through apprenticeship, mentors, and your own study and skill-building, and apply it in new and original ways to the work you want to do. It's all about creative action, and success in creative action requires two things:
"First, the task that you choose must be realistic. The knowledge and skills you have gained must be eminently suited to pulling it off. ...Second, you must let go of your need for comfort and security. Creative endeavors are by their nature uncertain. You may know your task, but you are never exactly sure where your efforts will lead."
Section six is about fusing your intuition with your rational thinking process.
Those who reach mastery gain what Greene calls an intuitive feel for the whole. It's not a mystical or miraculous thing; it's the result of all that learning, work, skill-building, and study that you do as you reach for mastery:
"The ability to have this intuitive grasp of the whole and feel this dynamic is simply a function of time....With this much practice and experience, all kinds of connections have been formed in the brain between different forms of knowledge. Masters thus have a sense of how everything interacts organically, and they can intuit patterns or solutions in an instant."
Intuition, or at least the kind of intuitive knowing that masters demonstrate, is a function of information that has been absorbed to the degree that it is resting in our subconscious, and can be called up when needed to help solve a problem, answer a question, or make something:
"Intuition, primitive or high level, is essentially driven by memory. When we take in information of any kind, we store it in mnemonic networks in the brain. The stability and durability of these networks depends on repetition, intensity of experience, and how deeply we pay attention."
Throughout the book, Greene shares stories and challenges of various masters and pithy little observations about, oh, psychology and evolutionary tendencies and human behavior and failure and success and creativity and tiny subjects like that.
For example:
“A natural response when people feel overwhelmed is to retreat into various forms of passivity. If we don't try too much in life, if we limit our circle of action, we can give ourself the illusion of control. The less we attempt, the less chances of failure. If we can make it look like we are not really responsible for our fate, for what happens to use in life, then our apparent powerlessness is more palatable. For this reason we become attracted to certain narratives...”
Boy, do we ever become attracted to certain narratives.
Anyway.
This book is all about achieving mastery in your work, or vocation. But it applies in much larger arena, I think. I feel like, in one sense, I've failed Greene's first requirement for mastery: finding your life's task. I'm almost 40 years old and I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up... except for learn, and explore, and keep learning and exploring, and get deep with people who also want to learn and explore, because there's really nothing more infinite to explore than the inner workings of humanity, and relationships are a great way to go exploring.
To me, that's the most exciting aspect of being alive: discovering what's out there--or what's in here--and understanding as much as I can, and sharing that process with others, and allowing what I learn to transform me and to actively create a life that is as fluid and vast and delightful and unpredictable as the human spirit.
"This desire for what is simple and easy infects all of us, often in ways we are mostly unaware of. The only solution is the following: we must learn how to quiet the anxiety we feel whenever we are confronted with anything that seems complex or chaotic. ...What we are doing is gaining a tolerance and even a taste for chaotic moments, training ourselves to entertain several possibilities or solutions. Faithfully pursuing this course over enough time, we will eventually be rewarded with intuitive powers. ...Possessing even a part of such power will instantly separate us from all of the others who find themselves overwhelmed and straining to simplify what is inherently complex. What seemed chaotic to us before will now seem to be simply a fluid situation with a particular dynamic that we have a feel for and can handle with relative ease."
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The giant Tim Ferriss edition
This turned out to be Reading notes #7, not #6. Whatever.
I don’t mean that Tim Ferriss is a literal giant, but that this edition is a giant recap of 3 Tim Ferriss books.
Here we go.
So 2019 was, apparently, the year of reading Tim Ferriss books. Among other things.
I’ve read a good bit of his blog before, but, I think, none of his books. Till last year. Last year I read The Four-Hour Workweek, Tools of Titans, and Tribe of Mentors in their entirety. I also read a good bit of The 4-Hour Body, but that is a massive endeavor and super detailed and while many topics are very interesting, many of them are not. To me. I’m not super into knowing how I can make my biceps bigger and what combination of supplements I can take to maximize such endeavors. If he had something about naturally increasing bust size, now… that could be interesting. Anyway.
Let’s dive in.
The Four-Hour Workweek
If you’ve been on The Internet in the last decade, you’ve heard of Tim Ferriss and the four-hour workweek.
I don’t think we need another recap here, as there are already many recaps, summaries, critiques, and the like available. Plus, most of the book’s content is on Tim’s blog, or at least the main points. And then those points have been reconfigured, responded to, expanded on, etc., by many other bloggers and writers and Internet-y people.
And, since I have been an Internet inhabitant for most of my adult life, the majority of this book was not new or groundbreaking for me.
It’s interesting to read a book for the first time, though, and realize how much you’ve been influenced by it.
Here are a few points that stand out to me:
“The commonsense rules of the “real world” are a fragile collection of socially reinforced illusions.
The manifesto of the dealmaker is simple: Reality is negotiable. Outside of science and law, all rules can be bent or broken, and it doesn’t require being unethical.
The important distinction is that between official rules and self-imposed rules.”
“The options are limitless, but each path begins with the same first step: replacing assumptions.”
“Role models who push us to exceed our limits, physical training that removes our spare tires, and risks that expand our sphere of comfortable action are all examples of eustress—stress that is healthful and the stimulus for growth.”
“The luxury I advocate has nothing to do with money. It cannot be bought. It is the reward of those who have no fear of discomfort.” (quoting Jean Cocteau)
“There is a direct correlation between an increased sphere of comfort and getting what you want.”
“It’s a matter of specificity. “What do you want?” is too imprecise to produce a meaningful and actionable answer. Forget about it.
Excitement is the more practical synonym for happiness, and it is precisely what you should strive to chase. It is the cure-all. When people suggest you follow your “passion” or your “bliss,” I propose that they are, in fact, referring to the same singular concept: excitement. This brings us full circle. The question you should be asking isn’t, “What do I want?” or “What are my goals?” but “What would excite me?””
“If someone isn’t making you stronger, they’re making you weaker.”
There is lots of other good practical advice and motivation about things like language learning, reading, learning in general, being effective and efficient, hiring and delegating, focusing, building a business, making decisions, and more. If that sounds like interesting stuff to you, read the blog or get the book and dive in.
Tools of Titans
Tools of Titans is a collection of interesting and helpful notes that Tim pulled from his podcast interviews.
There’s a focus on what he calls “actionable details.”
Specific questions, such as “What is your workout routine?” Or “How do you spend the first hour of your morning?” Or “What books do you recommend most often?” lead to specific, detailed answers. Because the answers are specific and detailed, they’re going to either be super helpful and applicable to you, or not really interesting at all…
I have a lot of highlights from this book, so I guess that means a lot of the advice was super helpful and applicable for me.
Have I actually applied any of it? There’s a good question.
Here’s what I’ve taken from this book that has actually been implemented, in one way or another, in my life:
I added a lot of books to my reading list from both this book and the Tribe of Mentors book. Unfortunately I didn’t really keep track of which books those were and I don’t want to spend time cross-referencing, so I don’t really know how many of those books I read. Oh well. Moving on.
I did more fasting last year. A period of intermittent fasting, several 1 and 2-day fasts, and one 5-day fast with my husband and one of our best friends in which, on day 3, I began vomiting water. That was a fun time. I should have paid more attention to the advice on fasting before I did the 5-day fast. Anyway, I had a protein shake and felt better and finished the fast with coconut water. Does it still count? I say yes.
There’s some interesting info about lowering cortisol. Turns out that when you have a hysterectomy and go full-force menopausal, your body responds with all sorts of hormone wackiness, and making way too much cortisol is part of that. Too much cortisol is not fun. Cortisol does not make you feel good and it can really fk up, among other things, your ability to deal with stress, your emotions, your moods, your sex life, your general sense of well-being. Yeah. Lots of st.
Which is a squat that… Oh god, just look it up, I am not going to try to describe it. I was just starting to run regularly and having a lot of pain in my calves and ankles. I started doing cossack squats and it helped enormously. I still do them every time I run because if I don’t, guess what? Pain happens. I don’t like pain.
There was a recommendation to let kids run around in flat shoes (like Vans or Chuck Taylors) or be barefoot “as much as possible.” I didn’t change anything based on this recommendation: I just felt better about my parenting, because our kids are barefoot most of the time, and when they’re not barefoot they’re probably wearing Vans or flip flops. So, cool. Validation.
This is a thing I was already doing, but not consistently. A vast majority of the people interviewed has some type of “daily mindfulness practice” which was affirming and validating and helped up my motivation to be more consistent with morning meditation.
Same as meditating. I’ve been keeping a journal since… I don’t know, forever. I have a box of notebooks from the journaling I’ve done since moving to Puerto Rico. It’s always nice to hear affirming things about one of your regular practices. I didn’t really change anything about how I journal— there were recommendations for specific questions to write about every day, or other formats. I’m sure those are helpful but it works pretty well for me to just sit still and write s**t for 20 or 30 minutes every morning.
And focus on the process.
This point and the next, about making a single big decision, instigated or influenced a major mindset shift in my approach to life and goals and progress.
“Throw out a timeline. It will take what it takes.”
“…quality long-term results require quality long-term focus. No emotion. No drama. No beating yourself up over small bumps in the road. Learn to enjoy and appreciate the process. This is especially important because you are going to spend far more time on the actual journey than with those all too brief moments of triumph at the end.”
This has been a really helpful concept for me.
“If the commitment is to a long-term goal and not to a series of smaller intermediate goals, then only one decision needs to be made and adhered to. Clear, simple, straightforward. Much easier to maintain than having to make small decision after small decision to stay the course when dealing with each step along the way. This provides far too many opportunities to inadvertently drift from your chosen goal. The single decision is one of the most powerful tools in the toolbox.”
And I’ll end with this one… There are more, but this is already turning into a monstrously long thing, so time to cut it short.
This is one of those ‘in hindsight, I see that this concept has seeped into my brain and been subconsciously influencing me” moments. Trust and vulnerability have been coming up over and over for me lately.
Here’s the quote from the book:
“People always [think] you gain trust first and then you’re vulnerable with people. But the truth is, you can’t really earn trust over time with people without being somewhat vulnerable [first].”
Tribe of Mentors
Tribe of Mentors is another book of collected advice or notes or questions and answers. It is big and I made a fuckton of highlights, so I guess I liked it.
How do I narrow this down?
I’m going to pick 5 things out of my 666 highlights. Yeah. Otherwise this little reading note will become as long as the book.
I’ve been asking myself this question about all sorts of things for the last 6 months or so, and I couldn’t remember where it came from. Now I know, because here it is, in my highlights. Thanks, Tim, or whoever it was who said this in your book. It’s a good question. I find myself having less and less patience for needless suffering, for self-induced suffering, and for hard work for hard work’s sake. I’m not sure really of the long-term effects of this shift, but… I’m interested. We’ll find out.
Along those lines, one point that’s stayed with me is to ask better questions. Here’s a good quote for that:
“Life punishes the vague wish and rewards the specific ask. After all, conscious thinking is largely asking and answering questions in your own head. If you want confusion and heartache, ask vague questions. If you want uncommon clarity and results, ask uncommonly clear questions.”
“I started out basically imagining I was writing for a stadium full of replicas of myself—which made things easy because I already knew exactly what topics interested them, what writing style they liked, what their sense of humor was, etc. I ignored the conventional wisdom…By focusing inward on yourself as a writer instead of outward on what you think readers will want to read, you’ll end up creating the best and most original work, and that one-in-a-thousand person who happens to love it will end up finding their way to you.”
That was a theme for so many of these responses from really, wildly successful people in a variety of fields and endeavors. So many of them said something along the lines— I stuck with my interests, or I did the thing that made sense to me, or appealed to me. Or, something like, I was working on this conventional path and pursuing “my thing” on the side, and what turned out to work, to spark, was “my thing” — the thing I was doing from the heart, with love and curiosity, not for an end goal or to prove myself, but because I found it interesting and rewarding.
“Everybody’s impatient at a macro, and just so patient at a micro, wasting your days worrying about years. I’m not worried about my years, because I’m squeezing the f**k out of my seconds, let alone my days. It’s going to work out.”
There’s something to that whole “be in the moment” concept. I’ve hated that advice forever, because I like planning and I like big long-term goals and I like feeling like I have some idea of what’s coming, of where I’m going.
More and more I see that choosing your path is about choosing your next step, your right-now step, your best option in this moment… not about having a carefully constructed plan for every step from here to some envisioned end goal. Everything changes along the way. The map is not the territory, and the plan is not ever ever how it works out in reality, and maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe that’s what allows life to be exhilarating and rewarding instead of boring and predictable. Maybe it’s also what creates a lot of fear and instability, but oh well. Maybe we can learn to deal with that, and let there be room for surprise and delight in the unexpected.
“Because I woke up the next day and the world hadn’t ended. I was free to keep f*g up and getting better. I wish at least one catastrophic failure on everyone pursuing the arts. It’s where you’ll get your superpowers from.”
“Because each one of those difficult decisions that looked like failures (at first) took me a bit closer to my real self. Each one of them empowered the real me. Each one of them woke me up from the illusion.”
This was a common theme— that choosing quality makes a huge difference. Particularly in the things that are a regular, ongoing, or large part of your life. This makes sense and seems obvious—the quality of the stuff in your life will impact the quality of your life.
Duh.
But thinking about quality in terms of stuff is one thing.
The point that has stayed with me is thinking of quality in other, less tangible areas: questions you ask yourself, goals and opportunities you pursue, perspectives and beliefs you allow, and relationships you form.
Rather than being open to everything, available to whatever comes along—you can assess and choose. And when you choose high quality, and put energy into those high quality choices consistently, you gain incredible value in return.
Books, always books
There are about a million books recommended— this is where I found the recommendation for Finite and Infinite Games, which is an amazing book and I love the description (so much better than my wordy fumbling notes): “this small, short book provided me a vocabulary to think about the meaning of life.”
Yes. Exactly.
Really, lots of great stuff. Tribe of Mentors is a good book to flip through, find the parts that speak to you and skip the rest. I’ll end with a quote:
“Most of the world is asleep today, playing a small role in a gigantic illusion. You don’t have to be. You can choose a different life. It’s all within. You will know the answers when you take the time to find yourself and trust yourself.”
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We’re talking about The Crack in the Cosmic Egg by Joseph Chilton Pearce.
First, I am not at all capable of explaining this book. I think I have a small, tenuous grasp on part of the meaning. Maybe 5%.
I don’t think I can go with my standard attempt to sum up the main point and meaning of a book. So I’m going to pull out some of my favorite bits (from the 267 highlights that I made, which seems like it must be pretty much the entire book).
“Our universe is not a fixed and frozen machine grinding out in entropy. It can always be what we have need of it to be.”
There is no “supposed to be” or “should.” No overarching plan or ultimate reality. There is what is, and here we are in it, and reality is what it is because we made it that way. If we open our minds enough to look beyond what reality is, and imagine (or orient towards, or think into, or some more meaningful term than the very weak-sounding ‘imagine’) then reality will follow our lead.
But we have to stick with it. Our direction, our vision, our aim of what reality can be has to be consistent or we don’t get anywhere.
“Non-ambiguity is the shaping force of reality.”
Ambiguity, then, is NOT a shaping force of reality. Ambiguity, indecision, uncertainty, passivity, scattered focus, and changing our minds all the f*g time: any of those things result in—more of what we’ve already got. Spinning in loops.
“Any path we choose is arbitrary, but in our choice we shape the world as it is for us.”
The key to having some sort of effect on reality—to shaping what reality is, rather than simply accepting it as is and making the best of it—seems to be making a choice and sticking with it.
“‘What do you want?’ is the only question eternity can ask of time, and it is our divine gift to answer by asking our own question. Desire, passion, curiosity, longing, novelty, daring, creativity, productivity, lust for life, ecstasy, joy, adventure, all these are the highest thrusts of life, the most divine of attributes, the most sacred of possessions.”
This is just…. Really good.
“To move against the certainties and energies of “the world” calls for an equally sure conviction and a concentration on balance of mind. To center all the forces on the restructuring of an ordinary event in a non-ordinary way calls for exceptional organization of self.”
I’m not really sure I know what this means, except there’s got to be a lot of self-trust. No room for self-doubt. There’s also got to be trust in the internal as a force which influences the external, rather than the other way around.
Also: ‘exceptional organization of self’ is a phrase that rings. That one’s sticking with me.
“And the terrible rumor from the front of the train is true: there are no tracks out there ahead. The mad machine throws its own down as it thunders murderously along.”
Reminds me of Zen and the Motorcycle Gang, or whatever the correct title is… the idea of being on the cutting edge, out in front, not depending on the path laid down for you through reality, or the explanations and expectations we are steeped in, but pushing into realms of the unknown, the as-yet unexperienced.
“And it is adventure that we need, that we must have. Not just the vicarious adventure shared with rare heroes exploring the planets, admirable as they are. Every man needs the personal adventure of finding the true depths of himself. Every man needs a way out from being only a cipher in a computer, a subservient cog in the machine.”
Yes, and every woman does as well. What is up with the men getting all the adventure?
Anyways, the big adventure available to all of us turns out to be more than conquering anything that already exists. Instead, it’s getting to that edge, moving mentally (emotionally? Psychically? Grammatically?) to the front of the train and deciding to be the one who throws down the tracks.
I mean, why not?
If that’s what is going on—just a crazy train of energy barreling along in some sort of space-time container—why not you and me deciding where the train goes next? Turns out nobody’s in charge of this thing, so everybody is. You have as much a right to determine Reality’s next direction as anybody else does.
And since most people will never want to think all the way to that edge, let alone put themselves out there, in it, at the front of the train, staring unblinking into the uncreated abyss (or open field of possibility, depending on how you look at it), it’s not a competition. There’s no crowding out there at the cutting edge because being there, at that edge, seems to require
a good deal of comfort with being uncomfortable
a good bit of willingness to throw out pretty much every solid idea you’ve depended on to create a sense of stability and meaning in life
and a fuckton of confidence, or something more than confidence. I don’t think it’s about feeling confident. I think it’s about deciding to trust in your own authority even when (especially when) you don’t feel confident.
“Perfection is daring to embrace the universe itself as our true dimension, daring to steal the fire of the gods, to walk on water or fire unafraid, to heal, to claim plenty in time of dearth, to behold boldly that desired thing and become what we have need to be.”
In short:
Why not everything?
Why not now?
Why not us?
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“Within a perceived reality, it is the responsibility of each person to choose their destinations as well as the pathways and pace involved in reaching those destinations. Ultimately, we create our own universe.”
Let’s talk about time.
Rather, let’s talk about a book that’s about time: Slipstream Time Hacking by Benjamin P. Hardy which, surprisingly, is not a sci-fi novel.
So it’s been a few years now since Einstein came along and said, “Uh, hey guys, not to disturb anyone, but everything you think you know about reality is wrooong.” And he gave us the theory of relativity, which has had enormous far-reaching effects on everything.
Except, perhaps, on the way we think of time.
I mean, in a theoretical, researchy, lab-coat-wearing way, we think of time differently. But in an everyday, mundane, calendar-managing way, we… don’t.
We still view time as this linear, fixed thing, this progression of past to present to future that is unalterable and unavoidable. We think of and interact with time in a very Newtonian way:
“According to Newton, time is absolute and unchangeable in and of itself. It simply flows unvaryingly, independent of any observable changes. …his theories centered time and space as the building blocks of the universe. Time was universal, unchangeable, and linear.”
And, for the most part, that’s how we deal with time: Oh here’s my calendar. I’ve got 7 days in a week. They come one after another. I’ve got 52 weeks in a year. I’ve got 24 hours in a day. I’ve got 60 minutes in an hour. I have to cram as much fun and meaning and good stuff as possible into this fixed, absolute amount of time.
We try to “manage time” by rearranging and reconfiguring the activities we “put into” our time. Mostly, we end up frustrated and never have quite enough time for the things we want to do.
Here comes Einstein to make everything weird:
“Rather than time being the absolute and unchanging force as previous theorists assumed, Einstein rendered light-speed constancy as the unchanging backdrop to his theories. Light is the framework of the universe and the fundamental reality. As a result, his theory recognizes that time and space actually fluctuate based on varying perspectives.”
Okay, whatever, blah blah blah. What does this actually have to do with me, my hours in my days, my weeks in my year, my experience of time in my life?
Well, maybe nothing. Maybe a whole f*g lot, my friend.
“According to Einstein’s theory… as an object increases the rate at which it travels in space, time simultaneously slows down. This constitutes an inverse relationship between space and time—the faster an object travels through space, the slower its progress in time. If an object could travel at the speed of light, time would stand still.”
So if WE, hypothetically, can speed up our experience, or movement, in life (space?), then we can slow down our experience, or movement, through time.
As the author puts it,
“To move fast is to have all the time in the world.”
How to move fast
Time theory is interesting (and confusing) but how do we move fast and, as a result, enjoy more time (or a slower experience of time)?
“Certain people are moving so fast that they can arrive at destinations in moments that would take most of us decades.”
Let’s figure out how to be those certain people. Or at least, how to start trying.
Turns out that a lot of what makes time rush by (or wastes our time) is our indecision about what we want to do with time. That indecision is really about how we want to live, who we are and who we want to become, what we want to make of our lives… You know, little questions like that.
“Because we do not know what we want or where we are headed, we jump at every opportunity that comes our way—filling our time and speeding up our lives. In contrast, if we know what we want and align our life to what matters most, to reality, time will slow down. All of those things we have spent our life chasing are nothing more than a distraction from what matters most…the closer we get to reality, our authentic self and desires, the slower time goes.”
The key is figuring out what matters to us, not what matters to anyone else. That means comparing doesn’t help. Following pre-written paths, or doing things just because they’re supposed to be done: it doesn’t work.
We have to set our own standards. We have to come up with our own answers. And I think we do so by trying, by doing things, not by theorizing.
There’s only so much that introspection and planning and analyzing can do (I can’t believe I’m saying that). We can be really good at those things and still be way off. The map is not the territory. The plan is not the experience. Until we get into the territory, start having the experience, we don’t know what it’s like.
By determinism, I mean the belief that what has already happened limits (or controls, or predetermines) what is going to happen. It’s a cause-and-effect kind of thing. Seems very logical. It definitely seems like the way the universe works.
“Newtonian time’s most fatal flaw is determinism—the present is determined by the past. From a Newtonian perspective, time is sequential, like the falling of dominoes. Each domino is determined by the movement of the one before and determines the action of the one following. The dominoes never get to choose to behave differently or stop the cycle.”
We may have a loose idea of determinism—as in, the past has determined an array of options before you, and the one you choose now will determine the array of options you have in the future. You still get to choose amongst the options.
Or we may have a fairly set, narrow idea of determinism—something more like Destiny or Fate, this is the path you must walk, the sense that this is the way things must be, that everything is working out (or not) as it has to.
There’s some beauty in determinism, and a lovely kind of acceptance. Maybe even peace. It’s very Zen. But there’s also this inherent passivity, a kind of giving-up, a complete lack of personal responsibility, so fk that st. No thanks. You can have the linear universe; it sucks. I’ll take the chaotic, confusing, relativistic one that is scary as s**t but allows for absolutely anything to happen.
“According to non-linear time, the past, present, and future all simultaneously and holistically exist in one. By changing the present, the past can be reshaped and the future altered. The distinguishing of the past, present, and future, according to Einstein, is simply an illusion of consciousness.”
So where does that leave us?
Well, it leaves us with about 75% of this book undiscussed. The rest is mostly about how to put these ideas into action: how to think of, and treat time, as something fluid, something we can manipulate and influence, something that changes according to how we choose to live.
I’m not adept at understanding or explaining timey-wimey science-y stuff. I just know there’s something about taking responsibility—radical responsibility that—well, that changes all the options. Responsibility reveals new options.
Maybe determinism is real. Maybe the idea of relative time, and the subsequent change in how we “manage” our time, or move through it, is all just Destiny. I don’t know. I do know that the more responsibility I take, the more freedom I experience. So a concept of time that supports taking responsibility for literally everything is the one I’m gonna go with.
“In a single moment, a person can choose to change everything. Change doesn’t have to take a long time, it happens the instant we decide. In a non-linear and relative world, each person is empowered to change the course and meaning of their life completely.”
More reading notes here.
Last letter here (all about insecurity! Whee!)
A song about time here.
That’s all I’ve got.
Go slipstream-time-hack something!
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Whatever it is, let me start it with gratitude.
Gratitude is fertile ground. Put in the seeds of your dreams and desires. Keep the ground watered and pull the weeds. Soon the seeds will grow.
(Conversely, anxiety is fertile ground for all your fears. Stay worried and you will harvest an abundance of fears.)
Gratitude has nothing to do with what you have, how good or easy you’ve got it, whether you get what you want or don’t. Gratitude is not concerned with such petty measurements of value, such judgements of experience. Gratitude embraces it ALL, looks at the big scope and opens wide with a YES, with brave willingness to receive every gift, no matter how unexpected.
Gratitude is not just training yourself to notice good instead of bad, to see positive and ignore negative. Gratitude is the skill of finding the good in the bad, highlighting the positive in the negative.
Gratitude removes the need for illusions. You don’t have to act as if you like everything, or pretend that everything is ok, no problem, we’re all fine here. Gratitude frees you from the need for a polished-up societal veneer of happiness.
Gratitude teaches you how to be okay with unhappiness, how to be okay when things are not okay. This is powerful, because when you don’t have to stay where you can pretend to be happy all the time, you find so many more options.
You can use gratitude to reduce the power that “bad situations” have over you. What we fear is pain. Bad situations are bad because they cause us pain, in one way or another. Gratitude is not a state of ignorance, where you need to pretend that pain is not real. No. Pain is real. Gratitude is the ability to acknowledge the pain, to receive it (instead of resisting it), and to pull the gift from it.
Gratitude knows that there is always a gift.
Gratitude is necessary for acceptance. When you “accept” without gratitude, you’re submitting to something you don’t value. You’re being passive, surrendering out of fear or frustration. Giving up. That kind of passive surrender either deadens you or pushes you to an opposite reaction, an extreme. Gratitude is an alternative route. It is a balance of acceptance and intention. It is both hands open. Gratitude helps you to accept what others can give, without giving up on what you really want to receive.
Gratitude lets you say, “It’s all okay, even when it’s not,” and actually mean it.
Gratitude helps you relax in the moment, even in the most painful or difficult or uncertain moments. You can only relax in two situations: when you feel fully in control, or when you’re okay with not being in control. Gratitude enables the latter.
The more you practice gratitude, the easier it gets. You get better at finding the good, embracing the whole experience, receiving the gift.
Gratitude is a gentle way to face your fears. No aggression or intense conflict needed. Gratitude doesn’t demand a victory; it just diffuses the power so there’s no longer a threat. That’s a good place to be: free from threat, out of danger.
Gratitude helps you face that fear of scarcity. You’re afraid of not being enough. Maybe you’re afraid of not getting enough. Gratitude shows you, graciously, over time, how silly that fear is.
Gratitude is the door to abundance. It’s the way you begin to see what’s already there. It’s a different kind of seeing-is-believing. It’s a reframing, it’s a language that opens up new concepts, enables new and better definition.
Gratitude helps you assign your own meaning to anything that happens. It shows you that you don’t need to pretend or defend; that pain is not an illusion, but it’s also not the whole story.
Gratitude tells you the other side of the story. You can feel safer, live freer, and breathe easier when you hear the whole story. And when you learn how to tell the story, how to write the story for yourself—well. That’s when things get interesting. That’s when anything can happen.
More: Gratitude vs Ambition
Successful people tend to be the most ambitious; the irony is that, as ambitious people, they do not see themselves as successful.
Ambition’s unrelenting voice keeps pointing out the next goal, the next mountain, the next challenge, the next level.
Does that mean ambition is bad? Well. I think not. What do you think?
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Here are a few thoughts I have about honesty.
Getting what I want starts with knowing what I want. Knowing what I want starts with basic questions and honest answers: What do I want to give? What do I want to receive?
The law of sowing and reaping (or karma, whatever you want to call it) is the practical working out of honesty. What I give is what I receive. The input determines the output. I can’t cheat it. It’s life being honest with me: here’s what you really are, here’s what you’ve really given, here’s the return on your contribution to the universe. It’s coming back to you now, but more of it. The universe provides exponential returns (pressed down, shaken together, running over) so I can’t ignore them. It can be heaven or hell. It doesn’t judge, it just returns: “sow the wind, reap a whirlwind” or sow care, kindness, value, respect, love, directness, freedom, learning, and receive it back, multiplied.
Honesty is the most beautiful treasure in the universe, to me. How real, how valuable, what a gift. Beautiful in all its forms, all its expression: direct, subtle, spoken, shown, with words or face or body or sound or attention or creation or anything.
Honesty is asking to be seen. It can feel like a risk—it is a risk—but it’s also the most important thing I can do because being seen, being real—AH. That’s what we want, what we’re looking for in one way or another.
Home is the place where honesty is easiest, where it is most okay. Home is where I feel safest being seen (or most seen).
Acceptance is the relational working out of honesty. It’s amazing, to be accepted. To be seen and to be accepted no matter how messy I am, no matter how much I spill over the edges or just break the mold completely. That kind of acceptance can come only when I allow myself to be seen. Or, another way to say it: I control the acceptance I can enjoy because I control how much I allow myself to be seen. I control the level of honesty in which I operate.
Facts and honesty are different. You can force or manipulate someone into giving you the facts or “telling you the truth” but you can’t force anyone to be honest with you.
Honesty is a choice you can only make for yourself, internally, freely.
How honest we are with others flows always from how honest we are with ourselves. And how honest we are with ourselves depends mainly on how brave we can be in any given moment.
Being honest with myself means asking the difficult questions. The difficult questions are not the most complex or confusing ones. Often the difficult questions are the simplest ones. The difficult questions are the ones with answers I’m afraid to face. There’s a potential answer I want, or don’t want. Either way, I’m afraid of seeing what the answer is—so I avoid the question.
Avoiding the difficult questions can only work for so long. Avoidance and dishonesty create internal conflict, misalignment, friction. States of tension. Eventually the pressure is too much. Things break. Honesty always forces its way up and out.
Honesty has many forms of expression. It’s in eyes, in face, in body language, in tone, in movement, in the way the eyes move, in where the attention goes. It’s in what we do and what we say and how we say it, and what we don’t say, as well.
Honesty is expressed by me. It also is expressed in what happens to me. I think that I don’t control the situations and circumstances of my day. But I do, by my intention and attention, and by my inattention. My brain filters reality according to my settings: what gets priority, what gets seen, what gets noticed, what is allowed to be real, what is ignored. All of that is up to me.
Honesty is unavoidable. What I am comes out, must always be expressed. I cannot camouflage my values or beliefs for very long.
Honesty is expressed most clearly in the patterns, the long-term patterns and waves and forms of a life.
I want honesty—with myself, with others, with the world, in my work, in play, in learning, in growth, in everything. I want honesty because I value it for its own sake, but more: I want honesty because I value freedom.
Honesty is the price of freedom.
When we venture into honesty, and allow ourselves to be seen, we free ourselves from this need to pretend. We can still pretend, but we don’t have to. We get to drop the pretenses and expectations, which are a prison.
We are all asking a question that’s something like, “Am I okay?” We need the answer to this question so we can move on and do more interesting things than wonder if we are okay. The answer to this question is always Yes. You are okay. I am okay. We are all okay. But we don’t believe this answer until we know it, truly, for ourselves. If I tell you that Yes, you are okay, you might feel okay for a minute. Then you will find a reason not to believe me. “Ah, she doesn’t really know… She doesn’t know about that one thing….”
As long as you are being less than honest, you have a reason to doubt that you are okay. You are not showing up for real in the world. You are showing up half real, half hidden. Or some other ratio. But whatever part is hidden will always make you wonder. It will bring the question up over and over again: Am I okay? Am I okay? Really? What about the part no one knows…? They think I’m okay, but they don’t see that hidden piece. If they knew, they wouldn’t think I’m okay.
That’s why honesty is so important. Honesty is the way to answer that question fully. If you can get honest with yourself, that’s enough. You don’t have to share your secrets with the world (unless you want to) but you do have to face them yourself. All of them. Yes, especially that one—the one you want to ignore. That one most of all.
You don’t have to write overly long confessional essays like I do. Although, if you want to: go for it. We could all do with a little more permission to be honest.
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I decided to play with Substack’s podcast-y feature. Here’s an audio version of my notes on Finite and Infinite Games by James P. Carse. Written version here. This was fun to do (and is completely unedited) but I’m not sure it’s worth the upload time. If you have opinions, let me know. I’m not really a podcast person sooo 🤷♀️.
Happy Sunday!
Notes:
Podcast-reading alternatives: here are a few lengthy discussions/summarizations of the book: here’s one from Made You Think and here’s one from Stuff to Blow Your Mind (who names these podcasts?) and here’s an interview with author James Carse.
This is a public episode. Get access to private episodes at anniemueller.substack.com/subscribe