Engaging Stoicism (2014)

Some time ago, in 2014 to be precise, I jotted down a few thoughts Stoicism attractive. I read through to them the other day and made a couple of changes. Nothing comprehensive, just a brief take.

First, I agree with how the Stoics treat happiness in light of broader metaphysical and cosmological questions. In other words, happiness isn't simply about feeling better, but about living in tune with reality. By “reality,” I mean questions of cosmology, human nature, various natural and supernatural ends, basic goods, etc.—in other words, the struggle to aligned ourselves with how things actually are. That my understanding of ultimate reality diverges from Stoics in key points does not detract from this basic premise.

Second, I agree with the Stoics that living in the present is essential to living a meaningful life. For me, as a Christian, that includes a nurturing of continued God-consciousness.

Third, most of our problems come from passions (negative emotions) and wrong judgments. Getting a handle on automatic negative thoughts is thus essential to personal well-being. (CBT is built on that basic insight.)

Fourth, that is why attentiveness (prosoche) or vigilance is so important. To capture the swelling up of negative emotions such as anger and self-pity, to detect the birthing of prejudical or uniformed thoughts—that deserves our utmost energy.

Fifth, I agree with their contention that eudaimonia (happiness or subjective well-being) comes from the possession of moral and intellectual virtue; of acquiring, in biblical terms, the fruits of the Spirit. At the same time, I recognize that full human flourishing—flourishing understood in a holistic sense—demands the promotion and protection of basic human goods. It is always better to be healthy, have friends, have food and shelter, live in conditions of justice, be accorded basic rights, and so on than to be deprived of them.

Sixth, difficult situations afford opportunities for growth. By facing them with courage, hope, a growth-mindset, and positive reframing, we nurture resilience. So, rather than allowing fear and self-pity to overwhelm us, we can say, “Good, here is an opportunity for me to grow,” or, “Here is an opportunity to live in the kingdom of God.”

Seventh, I believe that happiness is related to training, to a craft of living that allocates an important space to “spiritual” exercises (askesis) such as reflective meditation on events, expressions of gratitude, negative visualization, journaling, etc. As a Christian, I would add: prayer, Bible meditation, imaginative contemplation, fasting, etc.

Eight, the key aim of these exercises is greater self-awareness, which we all need desperately. Of course, inwardness on its own has significant limits, plagued as it is by mental foibles such as introspective illusion. We need feedback from others as well. Above all, we need the Spirit to lead us into all truth.

D. Brunner, My Role Model

D. Brunner has been one of the most important role models in my life. I often ask myself, “What would DB do right now?” He is an artist of life, a seeker of meaning, a true human.

“Once you have met a true human being, let him not disappear from the horizon of your heart.”
― Rumi

1. D. Brunner, the way I see him, aspires to wisdom and simplicity (the Sage), to the pursuit of the divine presence (the Pilgrim), to moral integrity and love (the Saint), and to self-discipline and resilience (the Athlete). A good life, for him, means to grow into all the four archetypes.

2. Accordingly, he is an essentialist to the core, one fully committed to a minimalist philosophy. As such, he makes sure that the "life-table" stays clear of that which is unimportant, trivial, or merely good. He treasures the gift of time with reverence.

3. He understands the centrality of attention and mindfulness—the sine qua non of the good life. To that end, he fiercely pushes against forces such as busyness, noise, and distractions and protects precious moments of solitude and silence essential for life-reflectivity.

4. Not surprisingly, he nurtures a sense of wonder expressed in gratitude. Not in the sense of cheap positivity thinking or minimizing the reality of pain and suffering; he is no sentimentalist. Rather, he is a “yes-sayer,” one who affirms beauty and goodness even in difficult circumstances.

5. There is a lightness about him, a deep sense of rootedness and contentment as if he has already arrived, already found his destination. There is no restlessness in him, no co-dependency. Absent too is any spirit of self-promotion.

6. He views the good life in holistic terms: spirituality (devotion and surrender to God); fitness (strength, endurance, and mobility); mental health (positivity, stress-reduction, mindfulness); nutrition (in his case, a plant-based diet); relationships and community; vocational excellence; connection to nature; and simplicity. His commitment to wholeness is the flip side of his reverence for life (Schweitzer).

7. For him, "life to the fullest" is not a matter of accident, something that happens by default. He is committed to the craft of living and willingly pays any price it might exact on him. Like St. Paul, he trains himself “unto godliness.”

8. Consequently, he understands that discipline is the path to freedom. In other words, competency, achievement, mastery, and the reaching of goals require commitment, intentionality, self-sacrifice, focus, and the saying of “no” to alternatives.

9. He speaks what he thinks, in wisdom, truth, and courage. He is a model of integrity and authenticity. He is ruthlessly honest with himself but in a spirit of self-compassion.

10. While organized, he is flexible following the "mind like water principle." After all, what matters to him are not rules or schedules, but rather a connection with that which is the most valuable at any given moment.

11. He understands that every choice matters and leverages the principle of compound interest to its utmost, particularly when it comes to the question of habit-formation. That is why he is always after tiny improvements, those 1% changes that eventually add up to transformative states.

12. He is not intimidated by valleys of doubt, emptiness, and the absence of motivation. He knows that they are illusions and mirages, siren voices of the Id. While he cannot control such emotions as they have a physiological life of their own, he observes them "from above," as it were, bemused at their claims.

13. He is resilient and is regularly recalling the journey that made him into what he is. He responds to difficult situations by saying, "Good!" Not in the sense of some amoral indifference or cheap positivity thinking, but rather from a position of courage and growth-mindset. In most circumstances, he exhibits the quality of anti-fragility (Nassim Taleb).

14. That is why he carefully watches over his words, knowing that speech creates reality. As best as he can, he refuses to speak negativity and defeat into existence.

15. He believes that mistakes are opportunities to learn from. When they happen, he analyzes them and then adjusts his approach (timing, context, strategy, attitude, etc.). That’s what craftsmanship is.

16. He constantly goes for things that he doesn't want to do. That is how he callouses his mind and confronts the laziness impulse; the proclivity for comfort, pain avoidance procrastination, and instant gratification so endemic to human nature.

17. He is not dependent on the opinion of others. He knows who he is, what his values are, where he is going as a son of God. Insults leveled against him are met either by silence or self-deprecating humor. And yet, he is all too aware of his self-ignorance and how dependent he is on the feedback and guidance of others. His indebtedness to moral and spiritual exemplars knows no bounds.

18. And above all, he sees love—the love of God, others, and self—as the animating force and moral center of the universe. Kindness and compassion are the defining virtues of his character.

19. Thus when you talk to him, you are surprised by how fully present and attentive he is. He exudes an emphatic concern that is hospitable and healing.

20. But above all, he basks in God's fondness for him. He sees himself swimming in the ocean of infinite love. What can touch such a man?

Mental Toughness: Adding some Precision

Mental toughness (or self-discipline) is one of those fluid terms that people define in different ways. I tend to see it as encompassing at least the following aspects:

1. Equanimity or composure in the face of emotional upheavals.

2. Self-control or self-regulation to manage impulsiveness, procrastination, and instant gratification.

3. Meta-awareness and proper judgment of self and situations.

4. Flexibility in handling unexpected changes.

5. Resilience or grit to pursue goals, as well as persistence in commitments.

6. Growth-mindset that sees obstacles as opportunities for growth.

7. Life-affirmation, gratitude, and positive self-regard.

I am well aware that these concepts could be parsed in different ways, but most will be aware of the qualities of mind and heart that mental toughness refers to. Perhaps there are people in our lives that come close to embodying such characteristics. A reserved neighbor, an elderly relative, a fellow teammate, a close friend, a remarkable ultra-athlete, an inconspicuous church member—the paragons of self-mastery come in different shapes. My uncle confronting his terminal cancer with poise, courage, and positivity is not less of a model in that regard, for me anyway, than the uber-driven David Goggins.

Which brings me to an interesting challenge. How are we to assess the level of mental toughness in ourselves or others? Namely, it is easy to confuse such a quality of mind with playing tough, i.e., the projection of some artificial persona of strength. It is equally easy to minimize reservoirs of strength that we actually possess, short shrifting ourselves in the process

I was pleased, therefore, to read Christopher Bergland’s article “Mental Toughness Just Got Easier to Assess” who in turn reports on the research by Peter Clough. Clough is best known for developing the 4 C’s of mental toughness: Control, Commitment, Challenge, and Confidence. “Challenge refers to reframing potential threats as opportunities for growth and mastery; commitment reflects persistence in the pursuit of goals despite obstacles or setbacks; control includes emotion regulation and stress-coping mechanisms; having confidence is self-explanatory.” (I believe that my list above encompasses the 4 C’s in different wording.")

The MTQ-10 questionnaire developed by Clough and others aims to assess the 4 C’s through the following statements:

1. Even when under considerable pressure, I usually remain calm.

2. I tend to worry about things well before they actually happen.

3. I usually find it hard to summon enthusiasm for the tasks I have to do.

4. I generally cope well with any problems that occur.

5. I generally feel that I am a worthwhile person.

6. "I just don't know where to begin" is a feeling I usually have when presented with several things to do at once.

7. When I make mistakes, I usually let it worry me for days after.

8. I generally feel in control.

9. I am generally able to react quickly when something unexpected happens.

10. I generally look on the bright side of life.

Even without taking the actual questionnaire, I find these aspects to be an excellent starting point for self-reflection. One way to do so is to crack up your notebook and start reflecting on each of these points. The more precise you can be in recalling actual examples or occasions, the more fruitful the exercise is going to be.

Service: The Fount of Life

The other week I posted a quote from Rich Roll’s Finding Ultra, the one that reminded us that life is about either evolution or devolution. In other words, there is no stasis, no permanency. This altogether Heraclitian idea—you know, Heraclitus, the panta rhei guy—is itself but a pole within the flux and permanency undulation endemic to human existence. Both are needed. We need stability and change; tradition and innovation; universal rules and local accommodations; formed characters and open minds. That’s how I would slightly qualify Roll’s otherwise spot-on observation.

But I am digressing. Today I wish to share his words on an altogether different theme—the call to outwardness. The mastery of life includes, at its core, the mastery of service, of giving yourself causes beyond your solipsistic preoccupations. Or as Rich Roll has it:

Do not covet your progress. Instead, give of yourself freely and selflessly. Because service is the magic bullet that fortifies our lives with meaning. It provides a transcendent sense of purpose. And most of all, it delivers that which we seek most—joy. They say when you give, you receive tenfold in return. 'For it is in giving that we receive' Francis of Assisi once said. But I prefer the poetic words of Kahlil Gibran. 'I slept and I dreamed that life is all joy. I woke and saw that life is all service. I served and I saw that service is joy.'

Ah, yes, Gibran, the poet of my youth! True words of wisdom all across the board.

While I did not intend to bring in another author here, I cannot but reference at least one thought from David Brook’s The Second Mountain: The Quest for a Moral Life:

Our society suffers from a crisis of connection, a crisis of solidarity. We live in a culture of hyper-individualism. There is always a tension between self and society, between the individual and the group. Over the past sixty years we have swung too far toward the self. The only way out is to rebalance, to build a culture that steers people toward relation, community, and commitment—the things we most deeply yearn for, yet undermine with our hyper-individualistic way of life. (xvii)

How apropos these words sound right now, at the beginning of 2021!

The Craft of Living as "Technical" Knowledge

Thematically, this is a follow-up to the post “Straying Afield of Oneself.”

An essential part of this blog has been a repeated reflection, metacognition of sorts, on the activity practiced in this space. There is an intentional double-meaning to “practiced” as I intend it, referring both to the “production” of content and a type of “exercise” on myself. With all proper deference, I see such a double-meaning at work, for instance, in the Ecclesiastes and Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations. These authors produce meditations, and they meditate. Thus, to see their works merely as collections of inspirational sayings is to miss the point of it all. True, there are some good thoughts to be had in there, but it is the art of inscaping, the continual immersion into those essential axioms, that unlocks their power. Sustained growth and mindfulness rather than originality of thought carry the day here.

With that as a backdrop, I thought of sharing a quote from John Sellars’ The Art of Living. Sellars notes that

in the technical conception of philosophy, philosophy is conceived as an art (techne) directed towards the cultivation of an ideal disposition of the soul, a disposition that may be called excellence (arete) or wisdom (sophia). Thus one might say that the subject matter of this art is one’s soul (psyche) and its goal (telos) is to transform or to take care of one’s soul. The product (ergon) will be the transformed disposition of the soul, namely excellence or wisdom. This transformed disposition will… necessarily impact upon an individual’s behaviour, expressing itself in their actions. Alternatively, one might say that this art is concerned with one’s life (bios), that this is its subject matter, and that its goal is to transform one’s life. Thus one might say that the product of this art will be the actions (erga) that constitute one’s life, highlighting its status as a performative art (praktike techne) in which the performance itself is the product. This product conceived as an activity may be characterized variously as a good flow of life, as living well, and as well-being or happiness (eudaimonia).*

Rather than carrying the usual connotation of “specialized,” therefore, Sellar’s concept of “technical” knowledge tracks the word techne or craft. It is a type of knowledge that amounts to an acquisition of intellectual and moral skills through exercises such as clarification, repetition, restatement, and visualization for the purpose of appropriate action and the pursuit of the good life. (The fact that Christians insist on the necessity of divine intervention and aid on all these levels does not take away from the structure of “technical” knowledge.)

With that in mind, I aspire to an act of blogging—I am looping back here to the opening paragraph—as a type of self-styling, a crafting of self in view of my core identity values: surrender, essentialism, attentiveness, life-affirmation, equanimity, self-control, integrity, mind-growth, wholeness, and love. And while I would love for people to find at least some of the content useful—what blogger wouldn’t?—there is something intrinsically valuable in such an act of written self-articulation and accountability. “Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on….”

*For the purposes of the blog post, I have taken the liberty of inserting simplified transliterations of the Greek terms. I have also left out some Greek words. Click here to see the original quote with all references intact.

Additional Thoughts on Precommitment

At the beginning of her Good Habits, Bad Habits, Wendy Wood relates the weight-loss travails of her cousin whose strategy includes public Facebook declamations.

She doesn’t just say she would like to lose some weight; she vows that this time she will make it happen. Her friends respond with advice appropriate for a hero starting her journey: “Never believe them when they say you can’t.” She isn’t going to just lose fifteen pounds; she’s going to start a new life. Her resolve is clear and strong, and she’s made that resolve public…

She went beyond simply choosing to change. She started to craft her own social environment into one that made it harder for her to not lose weight. This should have worked.

It did. Two weeks after her first post, she updated: down two pounds. “That’s a great beginning.”

But then: silence. A month later, she posted that she was still trying, but without much success. “No weight loss to tell you about yet.” And that was her last post for a while on the topic.

When I met up with her again six months later, she hadn’t lost any additional weight. In fact, the only change was that now she had an additional failure to feel bad about. A costly public one. The end result for her, as for so many people who try to change their behavior, is that it just didn’t happen. She had desire, she had determination, and she had some peer support. They’re supposed to be enough, but they’re not. (3-5)

Now, I don’t think that precommitments are a bad idea. I mention the beneficence of such an approach in my “Principles of Life-Change” post. Sharing your resolution with others; asking them to cheer you and call you to task; having to give money, should you fail, to a dreaded nonprofit such as Planned Parenthood or the NRA, depending on your political orientation—all these and others are potentially very helpful. (Trust me, I know the pain of that of having to give money to a hated organization upon failing to meet a promise made to self and others.)

But any precommitment has to be a part of a balanced life-change strategy; a strategy that takes into account our frailty in the face of self-control challenges. Thus, my repeated emphasis on habit formation and the traps of the hot-to-cold empathy gap. In other words, if precommitment is but one tool in creating a supportive context, if it aids us in removing bad frictions and adding good ones, then yes, I would consider it to be a useful craft-of-living tool. Otherwise, the update posts are going to stop, sooner or later.

David Brooks via Mason Currey on the Importance of Daily Rituals

Some years ago, I picked up Mason Currey’s Daily Rituals: How Artists Work. I had a blast reading it, getting acquainted, as it were, with the daily rituals of famous and successful people. Mozart, William James, Karl Marx, W. H. Auden, Franz Schubert, Jean-Paul Sartre, Sigmund Freud, Jane Austen are all in there, as are many, many others. Some of the examples are inspiring, while others border on the bizarre. For instance, the writer John Cheever would put on his suit every morning “and ride the elevator with other men leaving for work; Cheever, however, would proceed all the way down to a storage room in the basement, where he’d doff his suit and write in his boxers until noon, then dress again and ascend for lunch.” The image of the whole thing just cracks me up.

Or take the best argument ever for why we should be early risers, straight from the pen of Jonathan Edwards: “I think Christ has recommended rising early in the morning, by his rising from the grave very early.”

In any case, as I went through my Evernote entries I was delighted to stumble upon David Brooks’s article “The Good Order”—I love those serendipitous encounters Evernote affords me—where he discusses Currey’s book. Here is his take:

When she was writing, Maya Angelou would get up every morning at 5:30 and have coffee at 6. At 6:30, she would go off to a hotel room she kept — a small modest room with nothing but a bed, desk, Bible, dictionary, deck of cards and bottle of sherry. She would arrive at the room at 7 a.m. and write until 12:30 p.m. or 2 o’clock.

John Cheever would get up, put on his only suit, ride the elevator in his apartment building down to a storage room in the basement. Then he’d take off his suit and sit in his boxers and write until noon. Then he’d put the suit back on and ride upstairs to lunch.

Anthony Trollope would arrive at his writing table at 5:30 each morning. His servant would bring him the same cup of coffee at the same time. He would write 250 words every 15 minutes for two and a half hours every day. If he finished a novel without writing his daily 2,500 words, he would immediately start a new novel to complete his word allotment….

The vignettes remind you how hard creative people work. Most dedicate their whole life to work. “I cannot imagine life without work as really comfortable,” Sigmund Freud wrote.

But you’re primarily struck by the fact that creative people organize their lives according to repetitive, disciplined routines. They think like artists but work like accountants. “I know that to sustain these true moments of insight, one has to be highly disciplined, lead a disciplined life,” Henry Miller declared.

“Routine, in an intelligent man, is a sign of ambition,” W.H. Auden observed.

Auden checked his watch constantly, making sure each task filled no more than its allotted moment. “A modern stoic,” he argued, “knows that the surest way to discipline passion is to discipline time; decide what you want or ought to do during the day, then always do it at exactly the same moment every day, and passion will give you no trouble.”

People who lead routine, anal-retentive lives have a bad reputation in our culture. But life is paradoxical. In situation after situation, this pattern recurs: order and discipline are the prerequisites for creativity and daring.

I went back to my copy of Currey’s book and found that Auden's statement doubly underlined. How could it not? As is Brook’s observation that creative people “think like artists but work like accountants.” Neat, right?

Of course, all that fits right into the discussion on habits which I have addressed in “Principles of Life-Change.”

Evolution or Devolution: There is no Arrival

Here is a great passage from Rich Roll’s Finding Ultra, one that could provide us with some spark at the cusp 2021. Incidentally, the book is an engrossing read about personal fall, redemption, and adventure.

As you continue to grow and begin to see results, the impulse to pause and take a breath will naturally creep up. It’s an itch to exhale, tempting you to release the pressure, ease up on the gas and coast. I made it. I’ve arrived. Take a load off. Relax. 

A moment to reflect, honor the progress you have made, celebrate your victories, and connect with gratitude is important. Seize it. But don’t make the mistake of allowing that momentary pause to impede the important momentum you worked so hard to create. Instead, use it to gird resolve to seek even further and galvanize your strength to go deeper. 

Because, unfortunately, you haven’t in fact made it. There is no destination to which you have been delivered. And as long as you are living, work remains to be done. 

When I celebrated 90 days sober while in rehab, I was ecstatic. At the time, I thought, I got this. Then a counselor dropped a morsel of wisdom on me that I have pondered every day since: the notion that every thought and action I took from that point forward would either move me closer to a drink or distance me from it. I have found this edict to be both true and profound, applicable across every aspect of my life—a gentle reminder that mastering this experience we call being human is a lifelong pursuit. It’s a pursuit that requires constant attention and relentless rigor. 

Indeed, every breath you inhale, every impulse you indulge, action you shoulder, behavior you undertake, and exchange you navigate either moves your life forward or retards growth, plotting a course back toward the old self you so desperately seek to transform. 

There is only evolution or devolution. Growth or regression. There is no cruise control. 

Because stasis is an illusion. 

So enjoy that breath. But only for a moment. Then get back to work. With mindfulness and persistence, continue to inventory your thoughts and actions—are they elevating you or pulling you down? 

Keep moving forward. And never stand in the way of momentum. A constantly renewing, self-sustaining propulsion system, it’s your best friend. It’s why going to the gym is effortless when you’ve been hitting it consistently, and so challenging to resume when you’ve suspended your routine by taking a break. So don’t let the impulse to coast interrupt your flow. Protect momentum. Respect it. Then harness that powerful wave, ride it with all your might, and never let go.