So I’ve established in my last few vomits that one of my central problems is trying to think that I can figure out what I want, what I care about, etc just by thinking about it and attempting to impose my will on myself, and on reality. Turns out that’s a very ineffective way of doing things– there are a few rare cases where it appears to have worked [1], and they’re usually overblown and over-sensationalized.
So what I need to be doing is listening to myself, and studying my “true” or at least “truer” interests– what I’m thinking about when I’m not particularly thinking about anything, what I care about when I’m trying to care about something else, and so on. The first thing that comes to mind is really abstract stuff– big ideas, changing the world, blah blah. I know that that’s probably a sort of escapism– even if it’s legitimate, it’s not likely to be something that’s going to happen just by me wishfully thinking about it.
I’m reminded of the Zen Pencils comic where one person is putting in the work, day in and day out, and in parallel there are two people with elaborate dream collages and cocktail conversations about how they’d like to achieve great things– but then nothing comes out of it. Can I say with any certainty that I’d rather be the hardworking person, and not the idle dreamers? Idle dreaming with nothing to show for it– is that necessarily a worse life? And even if it were, do I necessarily care about how my life turns out? I keep saying I do, but am I just saying it because I feel like I ought to be saying it? A person shouldn’t have to labor so hard at communicating their own identity and purpose and intent and all that stuff– it should be evident from their actions.
So what are the actions I need to be taking? Writing, yes, duh. Doing it now. Is there anything else? Should I just let go of this mood and move on to doing something else? I’m going to be visiting my parents today. At the same time I’d like to squeeze out a few more vomits. So I’m just going to keep chugging. It might turn out to be worth very little in the end, but at least I’d have done it, and Me and I can both be proud of that fact together.
I find myself thinking about the doing/done/pleasant/unpleasant matrix. There are…
1: things that are pleasant to do, but unpleasant to have done (spending too much money, or maybe spending time reading pointless articles, playing boring video games that are mundane and repetitive).
2: Things that are unpleasant to do, but pleasant to have done (hard, unfulfilling labor towards a goal, diet and exercise, delayed gratification).
3: Things that are unpleasant to do and unpleasant to have done (self-loathing, maybe?),
4: and things that are pleasant to both do and have done (… writing, once I’ve gotten started. Flow.)
It’s interesting how, attempting to put items in these boxes reveals that the unpleasantness of a task is variable. It depends on how you perceive it. Exercise is unpleasant if you treat it as a painful obligation, but it can also be a glorious opportunity to learn about yourself, to push yourself to your limits, to experience endorphins and sweat and flow. Things that seem pleasant to do– reading bullshit articles, looking at attractive people on Instagram– these things can become neutral or even vacuous if you view it with the “right” lens.
Of course, there’s no right or wrong lens, but the point I’m trying to make is… pleasantness is relative. It boils down to how I frame it, how I choose to think about it. I’m reminded of the video of Steve Vai giving a talk at Guitar Center, talking about how he’s never had to work a day in his life– he’s practiced very hard, and he’s had challenges and difficulties, but it was all a joy. That’s definitely what I want. I want it to be all a joy. Writing this right now is quite joyful. How do I allow myself to experience this joy in everything I do? I do believe that it’s truly possible to have it all.
And yet when I look at my life right now, that’s not how it is. Most of it is nervous and anxious, fixated on outcomes, worries about upsetting or disappointing other people with how irresponsible I’ve been. I’ve been writing in circles around this– that it seems that I’m afraid of taking up more responsibility, because responsibility is a burden and it means more chances to screw things up, more chances to earn disapproval. But I only feel that way, surely, because I’m looking at things with a very myopic view. Payoffs change. Payoffs change. The changing of payoffs is very counterintuitive, especially if you’re short-sighted with respect to time (I definitely have been, so far.)
I suppose the thing then is to celebrate all the growth I’ve had so far. While having a conversation with my wife earlier today I caught myself having a few impulses to interrupt, and I deliberately chose not to, and I feel really good about that. I feel good at having allowed her to complete her sentences and thoughts, and I feel good at asking her questions instead of shutting her down.
I’d never have thought of myself as a person who shuts other people down in conversation, but that’s because again I was myopic and only saw things from the point of view of what I had in my head, what I wanted– it’s easy to say that you didn’t mean any harm… while harming people. But once you see the bigger picture, it’s hard to unsee it.
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[1] and even then it’s quite likely that things worked out in SPITE of the attempted imposition, or that the imposition was after-the-fact. Finding out where people were already going and then moving yourself to get ahead of them, so as to speak.