Influences, again

Before I get to the plant-based meat of this post, I'd like to share three aspects of life this past week:

First, a photograph I made in honor of the eclipse (titled, "Green Apple Eclipse"--mandarin on top a green apple on top a rotted stump):

Second, the gardening effort has begun as I transplanted the broccoli, basil and tomatoes I started back in February:

I’ve had two flop seasons of gardening on the high desert. Thankfully grocery stores exist, or I’d be in trouble.

Third, I enjoyed an experiment the other day I invite you to try: I sat outside (in my case, in an arroyo), set my phone timer for thirty minutes, closed my eyes and listened. Neatest thing I heard? The sound of bird wings—I’m sure ravens or crows, but I didn’t open my eyes to check—so loud I heard them despite the blustery wind. What a gift! Made my breath catch. I highly recommend doing this exercise, even if you can only muster ten minutes, generally the minimum it takes for wildlife to venture out again, thinking you’ve left the area. You might get to see a thing or two, and it’ll do your spirit good.

Okay, today’s post:

A few weeks ago I did a post about some of my lifestyle influences and inspirations, people who have a certain ethos or do things in a manner I appreciate.

I’m sharing five more influences, this time one-liners—call them aphorisms, quick hits of philosophical crack, little mantras—that I’m trying to let guide my action and thought. Disclosure: I’m going to bypass attribution unless I already know (or think I know) who came up with the idea, but suffice to say, none are original to me.

1.     Resist much, obey little.

I thought I got this from Edward Abbey but now I’m guessing Abbey got it from Walt Whitman’s poem, “To the States.” Inside me war two tendencies: one is the rule-following weakling who is afraid to step out of line, who doesn’t want to get into trouble (especially for breaking a rule I didn’t even know about) or cast into the pit of eternal hell for doing something wrong (which I don’t really worry about any more since “hell” doesn’t exist in the way previously drummed into my psyche by religion, though I do believe some people create hell for themselves now in life or live through a kind of hell created by others. I do, however, still worry about being in the wrong place at the wrong time and ending up in prison for life for something I didn’t do. But I digress.). The other party in this internal war is the anarchist who questions structures, assertions of power, systems, traditions, and ideology, who despises petty bureaucrats and pedants and schoolmarms of all flavors. I think these two sides are often disappointed in each other but also need one another. I have to work harder at being the anarchist as my lazy, loafing nature can lapse into the easy routes—thinking and doing what mostly everyone else is thinking and doing, not stirring up trouble, not forcing myself to change. Therefore, I remind myself: “resist much, obey little.”

2.     Die empty.

I like the “empty” part better than the “die” part (I really enjoy being alive) but the gist of this one is if I have an idea, a story, a play or painting or design, a thing I need to say to someone or the world at large, a vision, a journey, a way to help, a song or film or video, etc., whatever I have in me, get it out there. Don’t die with it still inside me, unmanifest, untried, unexpressed. And urgency rules this dictum because I don’t know how long I have before death knocks. I too frequently act as if tomorrow is a sure deal. The bonus with this one: the more I create and express, the more bubbles up inside that needs to get out there. So it might be impossible to die empty, but attempting impossible things shouldn't be a deterrent when the process is the point anyway. I remind myself on the daily: die empty.

3.     Do hard things.

This is from Stoic philosophy, having a renaissance right now. From reading Seneca and Marcus Aurelius, I started to pick up little mental tricks for accepting discomfort. For example, Seneca suggested that every now and then for a period of maybe a week, even if you are wealthy and comfortable, you should live as if you aren’t, if only to show yourself that you are not dependent on wealth and comfort. So, eating just rice and beans and sleeping on the floor for a week, despite having a full pantry and a cushy bed, that type of thing. Over the years, I’ve embraced “doing hard things” and effectively cultivated a hardiness that’s serving me well. Some examples: I don’t have to exchange more of my life hours to earn tons of money to buy things to make myself more comfortable. I don’t have an indoor bathroom and have found that daily, even weekly, showers are unnecessary. I can live without the heating and cooling that keeps daily life at a comfortable 68-72 degrees. Traveling by foot and bicycle have shown me just how little I need each day. Living without refrigeration makes the gift of ice-cold watermelon on a 100-degree day an unbelievable treat. I say these things not to brag but rather to illustrate how liberating “doing hard things” has been for me and how much as a practice it increases my level of gratitude. I’m currently undertaking some new “hard things,” some in response to changing circumstances, some voluntary, some I’ve been avoiding for years, but I have no reason not to anticipate growth from embracing rather than running from or insulating myself from doing hard things.

4.     Nothing is in my control except my response.

Pretty sure this is from the Stoics, too, but I also know many people get it from Viktor Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning. I don’t have control over what happens to me. All the best efforts to do everything right, make all the right choices, do all the right things, can still be met with the unexpected, the undesired, the unknowable, the tragic. Life isn’t something I control, but I can control (better: choose) how I respond to what happens to me. I can choose what to do next. I can choose how to think about what’s happened. I can choose to give more power to that which is outside my control by also letting it take my humanity and autonomy, and that, my friends, is when lives are destroyed—people using substances to deal with the pain, people self-sabotaging, people perpetuating the victimization they’ve just experienced but doing it now to themselves, people giving up on their dreams and themselves and on human goodness. Instead: even in the most egregious situations like Frankl’s being in a Nazi concentration camp or Nelson Mandela’s imprisonment in South Africa or being a survivor of sexual or physical abuse, there’s this small but powerful space between inciting event and what happens next, where I still have control, where I choose how I respond.

5.     Live the questions.

This one comes from Rainer Maria Rilke, and I’m not adding the rest of the famous quote about the answer part because answers are stupid. “Answers” are always partial anyway (we know in part, always), and they are complete dead ends. I’ll compare this with my use of Google: I look up stuff all the time and within seconds of closing the browser, forget the answer I looked up. Looking back, in my life whenever I’ve been most certain about my “answer” (and trying to live that answer) is always when I’ve done the most damage to others and to myself. My certainty and my quest to be right or have the right answers gets me in trouble every damn time. I remember a bumper sticker I saw in Berkeley: “Jesus is the answer. What was the question?” So, I’m trying to live the questions. Asking a great question can open hidden paths, turn things upside down, surprise and delight and complicate. Live the questions.

I’d be curious to hear if you have any philosophical tidbits you use in living your life (I’m less interested in good thoughts that don’t have any effect on how you live your life). Feel free to comment below. Thanks for reading my blog!

Happy spring everyone!