The Craft of Living Q&A

This post amounts to a manifesto statement and will thus function as a living document. As with the “Principles of Life-Change” reflection, I will continue to revise and fine-tune it as time goes on.

What is the Craft of Living?
In the context of Western theology and philosophy, “the craft of living” is an English rendering of the Greek term techne peri ton bion and the Latin one ars vivendi. It carries the idea of increased life-competency that comes as a result of experience, mastery, formation, and, grace—the Scriptural term for divine intent and action which illuminates, directs, and changes the human “heart.”

OK, but what is it about?
Well, let me give it another try. At the heart of the craft of living is, not surprisingly, the notion of craftsmanship. We don’t become craftsmen overnight. We need examples and instruction. We need failure and experimentation. We need repeated practice, deliberate practice, where we often work on skills and resources that might not be directly connected to performance. Think of a musician practicing scales, or an athlete working on her mobility and proper nutrition. (See my previous post on this theme.)

What elements does the Craft of Living entail?
At the first glance, there a couple of them. First, there must be some vision of the flourishing life, including an account of moral goodness. In other words, there is always some goal involved; some ideas of destiny and meaning. Second, there are also context-specific goals connected to an individual’s vocation or particular circumstances. A mother of newly born twins will have different priorities than a freshman college student. Third, the craft of living, both the definition and practice of it, rest on, always so, on an understanding of human nature, including capacities and agency. Such an understanding is enriched both by wisdom traditions and contemporary science. Fourth, the craft of living implies apprenticeship and exercises (askesis), over a period of time with an attitude of intentionality, consistency, and assessment. And finally fifth, the craft of living is about acting with wisdom, courage, and compassion.

Could you simplify that?
The craft of living is about the basic assumption that a flourishing life, a “life to the fullest,” is both a gift and a result of an intentional quest.

Does the CL invalidate God’s grace?
Christians believe that grace comes to us through divine providence and empowerment. None of that invalidates the truth that God’s gifts need to be received, nurtured, implemented, etc.

If one were to distill the basic goals of the CL, how they look like?
Wisdom, contentment, humility, resilience, wholeness, mindfulness, and love, among other. For a believer, all these would be in the context of devotion to God.

What aspects of human life does it pertain to?
All of them! True to the conviction that humans are psycho-somatic unities where every dimension impacts all others, the CL concerns matters such as sleep, nutrition, relationships, spirituality, work, and physical activity.

Does the CL require a commitment to a metaphysic?
It depends! There are elements of the CL that anyone can do and benefit from. At the same time, the CL always assumes, implicitly or explicitly, what it means to be human, which in turn rests on wider metaphysical commitments. A believer for whom union with God is the ultimate goal will be driven by different motives, moral exemplars, and means than someone who is a committed naturalist.

What are the universalistic claims of the CL?
There are basic needs essential to human flourishing, irrespective of his or her socio-historical and cultural location. The CL, while being particularist—we all have different callings, needs, challenges, etc.—understands this universalist dimension of human life.

Is the CL individualistic, neglecting the broader issues of social justice?
How could it be so, unless someone’s values themselves are narcissistic? The CL entails but a pursuit of authenticity, namely, the commitment to make one’s life reflect one’s beliefs.

Erich Fromm on Self-Discipline

I don’t know precisely when I encountered the writings of the psychoanalyst and social philosopher Erich Fromm (1900-1980). It must have been in my late teens or early twenties when they acquired a status of devotional literature of sorts for me. Two books, in particular, have left a mark on my thinking: To Have or To Be and The Art of Loving. One of the ideas I took from him is the importance of self-discipline for human self-realization. A self-evident thought, really, but one of immense significance for the practice of life. As he reminds us, we

shall never be good at anything if I do not do it in a disciplined way; anything I do only if “I am in the mood” may be a nice or amusing hobby, but I shall never become a master in that art. But the problem is not only that of discipline in the practice of the particular art (say practicing every day a certain amount of hours) but it is that of discipline in one’s whole life. One might think that nothing is easier to learn for modern man than discipline. Does he not spend eight hours a day in a most disciplined way at a job which is strictly routinized? The fact, however, is that modern man has exceedingly little self-discipline outside of the sphere of work. When he does not work, he wants to be lazy, to slouch or, to use a nicer word, to “relax.” This very wish for laziness is largely a reaction against the routinization of life. Just because man is forced for eight hours a day to spend his energy for purposes not his own, in ways not his own, but prescribed for him by the rhythm of the work, he rebels and his rebelliousness takes the form of an infantile self-indulgence. In addition, in the battle against authoritarianism he has become distrustful of all discipline, of that enforced by irrational authority, as well as of rational discipline imposed by himself. Without such discipline, however, life becomes shattered, chaotic, and lacks in concentration.

These words, written fifty-four years ago, have stood the test of time, and then some. In an age when focused attention and concentrated pursuits are hard to come by, when deliberate practice is often reserved for specialized endeavors such as sport or artistic competence, Fromm’s appeal takes on a prophetic tinge. For my life, anyway, littered as it is with its fair share of routine self-indulgences.