Alexandersmap

    Tag: Arete

    • Improving the View

      Do not stay in the field!
      Nor climb out of sight.
      The best view of the world
      Is from a medium height
      — Friedrich Nietzsche, “Worldly Wisdom“, The Gay Science: With a Prelude in Rhymes and an Appendix of Songs

      I find myself returning to Nietzsche’s Prelude in Rhymes again, because it was so remarkable of an encounter initially. What a delight to discover his poetic tendencies hidden in plain sight. Surely he would be on my list of people I’d try to meet with a time machine, were such an invention possible. But isn’t that what reading is? A time machine that brings us directly to the mind of the writer, wherever and whenever they put thought to paper. Isn’t that what a blog is, sans paper? A time machine to the future, well beyond this character we are as we click publish.

      We write about the things we experience, with the level of knowledge and understanding we’ve reached to this point in our development. I’d like to believe that I’ve climbed beyond the field to medium height, with a nod upwards towards the climb ahead. The view is fine right here, but incomplete—as incomplete as we are in this moment. The thing to do is learn and grow and climb some more just to see where it takes us. Readers of this blog know that the goal is arete, or personal excellence. That lies far beyond this climber’s lifetime.

      The thing to do is to improve the view. One blessed day at a time, with all its thoughts and ideas either captured or evading me. We must be ready for each lesson in a lifetime in order to understand where we are and what we’ve reached. We are forever growing into the type of person who might understand the place we’ve arrived at, but for an open mind and a bit of a reach. So how’s the view? Ready for the next step? For time flies and we have so far to go.

    • Begin Something

      “The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.” ― Willie Nelson

      As an early bird, it should be easy to get a head start on the day. But the day floods in anyway. Even as I awaken, work to-do minutia floods my brain—a clear sign that I didn’t write it all down to release its hold on me before my day was done. The bullet journal method only works if you keep up with it. Lately, I haven’t kept up with it.

      If we are truly on a quest for personal excellence, why do we clutter up our days with minutia at all? Mastery requires singular focus, if we indeed wish to reach closer to it. Just who do we want to be on this one go at things anyway? The work that matters ought to get done, the rest ought to slip away and not impact our sleep score.

      I used to glory in the hustle of outworking the competition. I have other priorities now. When I wake up, my attention doesn’t go right to work, it goes right to attending to the needs of the pets, and then to writing this blog. Does writing deserve a place of honor ahead of income-generating activity? Doesn’t the answer depend on where we want to go today? The answer has always been there, waiting for us to listen and act upon it.

      Why get up early at all, but to heed the call to begin something? To rise and chase the dreams of others for profit is nothing but a trap from which we will never escape. We must always prioritize ourselves first, and then address the needs of others. They tell us this on every flight. It’s on us to pay attention to the flight attendants as we hustle through life.

      To make something of this day seems a modest objective. Why go through the motions or succumb to distraction? Create something of consequence today and see what might build from it. Joie de vivre is derived from doing something meaningful with our days, not from hustling through it. So what is that something?

    • Of More and Enough

      “Our love of our neighbor—is it not a lust for new possessions? And likewise our love of knowledge, of truth, and altogether any lust for what is new? Gradually we become tired of the old, of what we safely possess, and we stretch out our hands again. Even the most beautiful scenery is no longer assured of our love after we have lived in it for three months, and some more distant coast attracts our avarice: possessions are generally diminished by possession.” — Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science: The Joyful Wisdom of Life, Love, and Art

      I’m currently managing the chaos that comes with some home improvement work. Every change has a price to be paid, and temporary chaos is our toll. The constant desire for improvement demands payment in one form or another. Today’s toll is tomorrow’s pleasure. At least that’s what we tell ourselves.

      There’s a reason why those house hunter and renovation programs are so popular. It’s the same reason some of us have an urge to travel to new places all the time, to try the latest trendy restaurant, to buy a bigger boat, to hike to new summits, or to day trade looking for that perfect stock to fall in love with. Divorce lawyers specialize in the consequences of unchecked avarice. Because we humans tend to lust for something beyond what we have. Even the pursuit of personal excellence (arete) is a pursuit of something more than what we possess now.

      As Nietzsche put it: to become tired of some possession means tiring of ourselves. Unchecked avarice is a weakness. To temper the unrelenting desire for more and realize that one has enough is a path to happiness. Good luck with that. Our consumer-driven world fuels a constant desire for more, different and better. It takes conscious willpower to unplug from that and appreciate exactly who we are, with what we have, right here and now.

      I’ve written about my wanderlust before. I’m chagrined by the single passport stamp I’ve gotten this year, compared to last year when I visited seven countries. I forget sometimes that I’ve traveled from coast-to-coast this year, seeing places and doing things that I’d once said I’d get to someday. Add in a few significant home improvement projects and the picture becomes clearer. It’s been a good year in more ways than it hasn’t.

      Comparison is the death of joy, as the saying goes. Simply enjoying the abundance of all that one has and have experienced ought to be enough. When we compare we turn our attention from all we have to what we don’t have. The math will never work in our favor when we compare, because what we don’t possess will always outnumber what we do have.

      Still, there’s so much more to see and do and be. And time is ticking away so very quickly. Is it any wonder that we have this urge for more, now, before it’s too late? We are growing beings, living a brief life before we slip into infinity. We ought to seek growth for growth’s sake. To learn and experience and build is how our species has made it this far. But we’ve also made it this far by eventually settling down and growing roots. A sense of place is uniquely gifted to those who stick around for awhile. The hunger for more is our blessing and our curse, depending on how much we control it.

      That quiet desperation Thoreau spoke of is as real as any possession we have. Desperation comes from not feeling control over one’s destiny. Not following one’s dream to it’s natural conclusion. We grow frustrated and seek relief in the fresh and new, buying impulsively, renovating relentlessly, comparing even when we know it’s a fool’s game. We each deal with the same old avarice within, while trying to be grateful for all that we have in our lives.

      As with everything, balance is the key to a joyful life. We must necessarily seek growth, knowledge and experience to fulfill our potential before the music stops, but we must also learn when we’ve been satiated. To keep consuming after we’ve had enough is gluttonous. To keep wanting bigger and better and different is avarice, unchecked. The gods don’t seek arete, they already have it. It’s we humans who are always seeking more. What is enough in this lifetime? Finding our way to that place may lead us to what we’ve been searching for all along.

    • To Do Bold Things

      “All courses of action are risky, so prudence is not in avoiding danger (it’s impossible), but calculating risk and acting decisively. Make mistakes of ambition and not mistakes of sloth. Develop the strength to do bold things, not the strength to suffer.” — Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince

      Risking all that we’ve built for some uncertain future is a fool’s game—at least that’s what we’ve been taught by our mothers and other well-meaning influencers in our lives. But tell me, without risk when exactly will we leap? We must develop our leaping ability through a series of calculated risks. This, friend, is our hero’s journey personified.

      “Do or do not. There is no try.” — Yoda

      Culturally, we celebrate the risk-takers because we know deep down that the leap they’ve taken is available to all of us in some form or fashion, but the leaper is unique for having done it. We may be inspired to take risks having witnessed theirs, or we may recoil back into habits of safety and assurance. We learn something about ourselves in either case.

      We all take calculated risks at some point in our lives—even our mothers risked it all to deliver our sorry ass into this world. It’s okay to be careful, and it’s good to play it safe in certain circumstances, but there are many times when we ought to let it ride. To go for it when the leap is worthy of a bold measure of risk honors those who risked it all to make our lives possible, and ultimately it honors our future potential and eventual legacy. We become the type of person who does things like this.

      Boldness is developed. But so is suffering. Decide what to be and go be it.

    • Paper Tigers

      “The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life; and the procedure, the process is its own reward.” ― Amelia Earhart

      What are we afraid of anyway? Decide what to be and go be it. The alternative is to never try anything. What kind of a life is that? When we make a habit of making the bold choice something stirs within. We learn that we can do things beyond the ordinary.

      And so it is that we make our way towards the person we wish to become. Some days we leap forward, some days we slog along hoping for progress but finding we slid backwards. Looking around, we wonder if we made the right choice.

      Who we once were seems more attractive when things get especially challenging. But deep down we know better. Keep moving forward, towards the dream. Ordinary was nice, but extraordinary offers a better view.

      Be bold today—if only so that when we reach the end of the day we feel like we’ve really done something with the time. Which paper tiger do we need to tackle first? They tend to scatter once we’ve knocked off one or two of the big ones. There is no time like now to show them who’s boss.

    • Measured in Inches

      “Question yourself every day. Ask yourself: Who am I? What have I learned? What have I created? What forward progress have I made? Who have I helped? What am I doing to improve myself—today? To get better, faster, stronger, healthier, smarter?”
      ― Jocko Willink, Discipline Equals Freedom: Field Manual

      Nothing like a bit of Jocko to smack us back into focus now and then. But really, we ought to be accountable to ourselves every day without the assist. We are our own creation, like it or not, and who we are is based on how we react to the world when we wake up each day. Get up and get to work or stay under those comfy covers—the choice is ours.

      We’re two days from Halloween, and the sheer ubiquity of chocolate is testing my willpower. I’m a little too casual with the carbs lately too. As the weather gets cooler and the nights get longer, it’s easy to eat a bit more, sleep more, ride the couch with a snack and something to wash it down with. We are what we repeatedly do.

      Excellence, then, is a habit. It’s discipline and doing what we promised we’d do, again and again until we’ve done that thing. Sneaking Socrates quotes in is an old trick, and I know you’ve seen that one before. The point is, we can’t let up now when there’s so much more to be done. Shake it off and get to work already.

      “Nothing is going to change, unless someone does something soon.” — Dr. Seuss

      So do something. Now. Today anyway. Something that moves the chains towards the goal. Something that takes this inclination for comfort and ease and turns it into sweat equity. Discipline equals freedom from those pesky inclinations. Personal excellence, our old friend Arete, is not for the undisciplined excuse-makers. We inch towards our potential through self-accountability, rigid routines and hard work. Does that sound fun? No? That’s why it’s hard.

      The world already has plenty of people who don’t want to do much of anything. To have the audacity to dream of excellence requires more than big talk, we have to navigate the excuses that will inevitably get in the way with every step. But we know that, don’t we? So get to it already! Today is well underway, and tomorrow is too late. Progress is measured in inches, and so is comfort. The choice is ours.

    • If We Choose To

      Do you want to know the truth about yourself? Hold a forearm plank for as long as you can and your abdominal muscles will offer you all the truth you can handle. The truth is right in front of us when we dare to notice it. Getting fit is harder than staying fit, but staying fit is a matter of making harder choices over easier options.

      For what it’s worth, I’m far more fit than I was on my last birthday. I hope when I arrive at my next birthday to be far more fit than I currently am. Call it a birthday gift to myself. Fitness is itself worthy of pursuit, if only to improve the quality and perhaps duration of our time while we’re alive. When we’re fit we become more alert, with more energy, and we feel better about ourselves when the favorite jeans slide on easily. Doesn’t that just brighten up a day?

      There’s another key benefit to consistently choosing harder over easier. When we do what we say we’re going to do, we learn to trust ourselves. Our promises aren’t empty. It counts for a lot in a world increasingly jaded and skeptical when we can look in the mirror and trust the character looking back at us.

      It’s evident that consistent and challenging workouts will move us to a healthier body. We could apply this knowledge to other pursuits like reading, writing or learning about something that will open doors for us in our career. Imagine the shine on that kitchen floor if we’d simply take the harder path and mop it regularly.

      We ought to do hard things, because hard things move us to a meaningfully better place. Easy things feel comfortable but aren’t moving us in the direction we want to go in. Pay the piper now or surely we’ll pay later. We learn that personal excellence is forever evasive, but always within our power to strive towards. If we choose to, anyway.

    • Expanding Circles

      “Travel is a fantastic self-development tool, because it extricates you from the values of your culture and shows you that another society can live with entirely different values and still function and not hate themselves. This exposure to different cultural values and metrics then forces you to reexamine what seems obvious in your own life and to consider that perhaps it’s not necessarily the best way to live.”
      ― Mark Manson, The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life

      How comfortable are we, wrapped up in the stories we tell ourselves? Life either reinforces all that we hold to be true or it refutes it. We know that to get more physically fit we must break down our muscles through stress for them to grow. It’s the same with the mind. Diverse experience breaks down the stories we tell ourselves, that we may grow and learn to be something more than we were before. This all seems obvious, but it’s somehow controversial in certain circles.

      I’ve had a few conversations with people who don’t want to travel to places that they believe live by different stories than the ones they tell themselves. Herein lies the problem. We must first seek to understand, that we may be understood. We know already why we’re different. It’s our curated belief system—where we were born, the programming that sucked us in and has a hold on us, and that circle that we’re inclined to stay inside of for fear of what’s on the other side. Our life depends on escaping those circles that would imprison us in belief.

      The thing is, circles are useful too. They help define who we are and what we stand for. What is our identity? It’s right here in this circle of experience and learning, developed over a lifetime. We just can’t forget that we can grow the circle too. When we look at life as a series of discoveries that fill in the story of who we might be, we learn to be excited about the search for more experiences and challenges that test what we once believed, that we may fill in more of the circle and make it grow. What are we missing by staying within our current circle? Shouldn’t we go see for ourselves? A full life is expansive by nature.

    • Cordwood Sacrifices

      Out of the night that covers me,
      Black as the pit from pole to pole,
      I thank whatever gods may be
      For my unconquerable soul.

      In the fell clutch of circumstance
      I have not winced nor cried aloud.
      Under the bludgeonings of chance
      My head is bloody, but unbowed.

      Beyond this place of wrath and tears
      Looms but the Horror of the shade,
      And yet the menace of the years
      Finds and shall find me unafraid.

      It matters not how strait the gate,
      How charged with punishments the scroll,
      I am the master of my fate,
      I am the captain of my soul.
      — William Ernest Henley, Invictus

      We see where our choices have brought us over time. Or rather, we see if we are aware of our agency. So many learn helplessness as their primary lesson, and not agency. Not mastery of themselves. Mastery of self is a lifetime course. We are all students to the very end. To believe we have already reached mastery is to miss the lesson entirely.

      Everyone knows the final stanza of Invictus, even if they don’t know the poet. Even if they cannot recite the lines exactly. This idea of being the master of our fate and captain of our soul latches on to us like burrs to cloth. We like to think it so, this level of agency.

      Mastery requires choice. Mostly, it’s all that we will say no to that we may say yes to some primary purpose. A yes to what should be a no may be just the thing we desire most after a long day of grinding away towards our primary goal, but that which leads us astray leads us to mediocrity.

      Too harsh? We know the truth of where we are when measured against where we might have been. Choices matter a great deal on our course to personal excellence. I hear the curses mumbled for bringing up arete again. What are we here for but to do our best towards something larger than ourselves? Something godlike in its audacity? We may aspire to greatness while remaining humble servants of this moment we were made for.

      To favor no is to be mentally tough. It’s to decide what our yes will be and get used to stacking no’s one after the other like cordwood sacrifices to our yes. Decide what to be and go be it. Arete is ours to define, and ours to navigate towards through our decisions today.

    • Moving Through Us

      “Greatness is a transitory experience. It is never consistent. It depends in part upon the myth-making imagination of humankind. The person who experiences greatness must have a feeling for the myth he is in. He must reflect what is projected upon him. And he must have a strong sense of the sardonic. This is what uncouples him from belief in his own pretensions. The sardonic is all that permits him to move within himself. Without this quality, even occasional greatness will destroy a man.”
      — Frank Herbert, Dune

      You know when you’re in the midst of greatness. You can see it with your own eyes, feel it in your nervous system. There are so few who reach that level, and fewer still who can stay there for any amount of time, that it’s memorable when it washes over a moment. Tom Brady had a long dance with greatness. So did Michael Phelps. Sydney McLaughlin-Levrone is currently in the midst of greatness in the 400 meter hurdles and dash. Greatness is myth-like because it’s just so far beyond merely being good.

      To be sardonic is to be cynical, highly skeptical, and maybe a little sarcastic. Tom Brady had the perfect foil in Bill Belichick. We all need someone that keeps our ego in check and knock us down a notch when we begin to believe the hype. The alternative is to get too big for one’s britches. How many rise to greatness only to stumble back down to average when they succumb to the myth?

      People love the hero’s journey, but they learn to hate the person who is on top for too long. Maybe that’s because they keep the next hero from rising all the way to the top. It’s the rare few who are loved for their greatness because they exude something beyond the norm. Usain Bolt ran with a brash joyfulness that thrilled even the most casual observer.

      We may aspire to greatness but still be humble. Like a writer or artist who view themselves as a vehicle for the muse to bring art to the world, each of us are similarly bringing something beyond ourselves to whatever it is that we do. We ought to do it exceptionally well, that we may earn the right to do it again tomorrow. And maybe even better. We just can’t get so full of ourselves that the greatness has no room to move through us.