It's Good Training

"If you want to improve, be content to be thought foolish and stupid."

Epictetus


Maxims are important. It is advisable to have a supply of them at hand when times get tough. When we enter the stress response, when our adrenaline starts pumping and our heart starts beating our higher cognitive functions are shoved aside by our lower instincts. At these times maxims are a workaround back to rationality. They're a cheat code.

I find that the maxim which rises through my mental muck the most often is "This is good training."

I don't know exactly where I picked it up. I know that Epictetus advises us to repeat "It is for this that I trained" when we encounter tragedy, so it's probably related to that. Also, when I was in the military and somebody did something stupid all the NCO's would mumble "it's good training." More sweat on the training field means less blood on the battlefield, as they say. Make your mistakes when the stakes are low and you won't make the same mistakes when the stakes are high.

Hmm... so I guess I DO know where that comes from. Strange how writing a thing down can clarify it.

Anyway, I save "It is for this that I trained" for the big tragedies and "This is good training" for everyday annoyances.

Suppose, for example, that somebody asks something unreasonable of me. Suppose that I'm neck deep in a project and they want me to drop it all for a low priority task. I could swallow my rage and do it or I could blow up at them and call them selfish or I can repeat "it's good training," center my mind and work on a new skill.

"I understand, but this is my priority. I can talk to you about your thing later. I have to get back to this."

It's measured. Who can argue with it? It's not even mean. I'm just letting a fellow creature know what I'm thinking.

So what about when I lose my cool and do something stupid? Well, that's life.

If I want to improve, I must be content to be thought foolish and stupid. It's part of the game. I will make mistakes and people will see me make them. Some of those people will think that I am foolish and stupid. It WILL happen, so I will prepare for it. It's good training.

Nobody shows up to a golf course on Day 1 and smacks 300 yard drives time after time. They bounce balls off of trees, hit them straight up, plough divots everywhere... failure is part of the deal. If we can internalize this idea then failure will have less power over us. We will use it rather than subjugate ourselves to it. We will learn and move on.

It's good training.

Lazy Stoicism And The Viper's Tongue

I've got a mouth. I don't mean that I literally have an orifice which allows me to breathe and ingest nutrients, though I certainly have that. I mean it in the Southern sense: "That fella's got a mouth on him."

I'm sarcastic. In our age this trait is often characterized as a plus. I have a buddy, for example, who dates online and he says he's amazed by how many people list "sarcasm" as a positive personality trait. This perplexes him. Why would he want to date an openly sarcastic person? Why sign up for mockery?

"So I just scraped my car's rim against a curb, right? So not only do I have a scratched rim but my date is laughing at me and cracking jokes. Not attractive."

That one didn't work out. Now as a good Stoic I would try to develop myself to the point that neither the scratch nor the date's laughter mattered, of course, but his point is well taken. If the world is filled with potential dates why choose a sarcastic one? Why add to your burden?

My grandmother once told me that I have the tongue of a viper. She was herself a sharp-tongued German lady from North Dakota, brought up hard in an unforgiving environment  amid naturally Stoic people. Her world view was an unusual combination of deeply humanitarian impulses and high cynicism. She would feed every kid in the neighborhood but they would all fear the sting of her words if they stepped out of line. She passed this on to my father.

"A pessimist is never disappointed," he would tell me. He would also tell me to "watch my mouth" on a regular basis. I got his mouth, he said, and he got his mother's mouth... who knows how far back the mouth goes? No doubt some Teutonic tribeswomen once stood along the banks of the Danube taunting her nephew for skinning a hog the wrong way, and she begat me.

I can't relate that without admiration, though... I think that what people appreciate in a sarcastic comment is the fact that the originator had the nerve to make it in the first place. Perhaps sarcastic people come off as confident, or superior... I don't know.

As a supposedly practicing Stoic I make a conscious effort not to use my mouth. Sarcasm is insincere, after all. It's not kind and in my case it betrays irritation and insecurity.

I'd been doing pretty well in the last few months, but there came a day when I hadn't gotten enough sleep and I'd had one too many annoying personal interactions and my Stoicism failed me, or rather I failed it.

Whatever. In any case, I said something really sarcastic. My target pointed this out without replying in kind. It was embarrassing... for a moment.

"Well," my Stoic self said, "we don't want to do that again. Apologize, learn, and move on."

Which is what I did. Then we both felt better.

It was automatic. I didn't go home and lose sleep, I didn't mull it over with a friend, I didn't do an internet search on how to be less sarcastic... I just recognized the mistake, made a complete apology and vowed to do better.

It was easy. It felt lazy.

I think this stuff is working. I think that by deliberately thinking a certain way I am actually forming a mental habit. My default state is becoming more Stoic.

It's weird that this surprises me, but it does. I had a similar experience recently when I lifted up my youngest son. It didn't hurt like it used to. I started lifting weights two months ago and now I'm stronger. I must have secretly believed that it wouldn't really work, and then was surprised when it did. Same thing with my Stoicism...