Good God it’s hot outside…
I’m no stranger to heat. I’ve lived in California for the last 25 years, so pretty much all my life. But this time, something’s different. This heat is downright oppressive. More than 60 miles away from me, there’s a wildfire so strong that I can see the smoke from outside my window. It’s six in the evening. The sun should be setting.
Instead, it’s trying to set me on fire.
I have a headache. It’s hard to focus. And the heat isn’t helping, either. I have a podcast episode that’s going live tomorrow. My podcast is usually just me reading my daily blog posts. But with 12 hours to go, the page is still blank. Fuck. Not only that, but tomorrow I’m also meeting my first potential client for my consulting business. I’m excited, but I can’t help running scenarios in my head about this meeting blowing up in my face.
Can I deliver what I’ve promised?
Do I actually know what I’m talking about on my landing page?
Shouldn’t I be focusing on that instead of writing this post?
It’s probably not the smartest idea to talk about self-doubt in public. But in recent years, I’ve learned one lesson the hard way – Superman doesn’t exist. Our idols are no more perfect than you and I. You have your doubts. I have my doubts. And guess what? So does Beyoncé. Maybe.
There’s a book laying next to my Tatami mat (yes, I sleep on the floor). It was written by a man who lived thousands of years ago. After finishing this book for the first time, I went right back to the beginning again. The book I’m talking about is Meditations by Marcus Aurelius.
The self-help world has found itself enamored by Marcus’s private aphorisms for living a full life. “Concentrate on the task at hand like a Roman,” writes Marcus. But the love for stoicism isn’t universally understood. Some corners of the self-help world see stoicism as a mere aesthetic. An aesthetic that preaches the virtues of painting ourselves in bronze, forgoing the cookie for the steak, and doing a thousand push-ups by sunrise.
Here’s a secret – Stoicism has nothing to do with push-ups or the color bronze.
But it has everything to do with September in California.
Stoicism isn’t a philosophy of life. It’s a philosophy for life. Aurelius gave us a set of guiding principles for those fun moments when life sucker-punches us in the gut. I didn’t ask to have this headache. I wish the sun would go away. But the sun and this headache don’t give a damn about me.
Author Ryan Holiday is the embodiment of the modern stoic ideal. Through his three part series on stoicism in daily life, he teaches us that our obstacles are opportunities in disguise, ego is the most toxic force in our lives, and an inner stillness is the greatest productivity trick of all. Holiday understands these principles better than the self-help world. No surprises there. It’s often the individual who understands the nuances of a concept better than the crowd.
But if we look at stoicism through the eyes of someone who never took anything at face value, we find something a little too obvious in hindsight.
Cut from a different cloth, Friedrich Nietzsche argued that stoicism was a form of discipline through self-tyranny. “O you noble stoics,” writes Nietzsche in Beyond Good and Evil, “You want to live ‘according to nature’? Think of a being such as nature is, prodigal beyond measure, indifferent beyond measure, without aims or intentions, without mercy or justice, at once fruitful and barren and uncertain; think of indifference itself as a power – how could you live according to such indifference?”
To Nietzsche, living according to nature, living stoically, meant seeing indifference itself as a value. He disliked this philosophy for the same reasons he disliked Christianity. He didn’t like rules that would suppress what should be expressed.
Nietzsche believed that one of the great pinnacles of our lives would come when we “transform our evil qualities into our good qualities.” This is one of the most difficult of his aphorisms I’ve come across. I still don’t fully grasp what this means (I don’t have a grasp over 95% of what Nietzsche wrote). But here’s what I think he meant.
Our evil qualities are the creative qualities. We’re told to pay attention in meetings instead of doodling on our notepads. But what if instead of stoically bearing the boredom of a meeting, we used our doodling habit to illustrate a point?
To be yourself is to see yourself for who you really are. It means sitting with all your mistakes, fears, anxieties, doubts, and grievances over the loss of the person you once were — the person someone else wanted you to be. And it means letting yourself do evil, dastardly things. Dastardly things like doodling.
Now I’m looking at another one of Nietzsche’s aphorisms. He writes, “under conditions of peace the warlike man attacks himself.”
Yeah, sounds about right.
It’s hot and I’m sweating and I wish I lived in an igloo. This headache is making me want to rip out my amygdala. But these sensations, heat and headache, they’re just that — sensations.
Today is actually kind of peaceful.