My Three Favorite Teachers

Life offers us three teachers.  The first one is success.  Success is my favorite teacher because it says, “Look what you did well!  Keep doing it!  Keep going!”  Success is like a cheerleader or a mentor.  There’s always a kind word from Success. And if we just look carefully, we might realize that we experience success every time we go to work when we don’t feel like it.  We experience success when we hold our tongue instead of saying something rude.  We experience success when we finish a commitment.

Being committed to school, as I have been, being committed to anything, has a cost.  Commitment is free to make, but once made, the price is high.  In a sense, it costs you your life.  It demands everything.  When I had written my 100^th blog, my Muse challenged me to write 50 more in less than three weeks.  I thought, “This will be challenging (meaning ‘not that hard’), but it will be fun (meaning ‘not that hard’).  It was harder than anything I’d done in a long time. I had no idea of the cost. I didn’t realize that it would mean that almost nothing else would matter as much as fulfilling that commitment.  I didn’t want to be with friends or read comic books or watch movies.  I wasn’t really happy unless I was with my Muse and writing. 

When I signed up for a Master’s program I again thought, “This will be challenging (meaning ‘not that hard’), but it will be fun (meaning ‘not that hard’).”  It has been that hard.  It’s been even harder than writing those blogs because it’s gone on longer, because there’s a lot more work involved, and because I’m accountable to more people.  On the other hand, it really hasn’t been any more difficult than writing blogs regularly or working to become a good teacher or a good father or anything else I’ve wanted to do really well. 

But I got tired.  And I got scared.  And I froze.  I did what I absolutely had to do, but the quality of my work began slipping just a little.  I had a huge assignment that I still haven’t turned in.  I couldn’t make myself finish it.  But I have to.  What happened?  As I said, I froze.  I was sure that what I was writing was no good.  I was sure that my ideas were terrible and that I was going to get a bad grade.  So I just didn’t finish it.

There’s an expression that says, “Failure is not an option.”  That’s nice and motivating, but the truth is that failure is always an option.  And that’s what is so scary sometimes.  I could fail.  I have failed.  Many times.  Failure was a very real option.  I know this, because I took this option.  And failure had its own lessons. That’s why Failure is also my second teacher.  Failure teaches me that sometimes I needed to fail because I wasn’t emotionally or physically or spiritually or financially or intellectually prepared.  But it also taught me that it wasn’t final.  Life still went on.  I made new discoveries.  It taught me that there are many paths to life and to God.  But it wasn’t final.  Failing at something did not have to kill me in any sense of the word.  I wasn’t going to kill myself or end up homeless, broke, and alone.  After a setback, I woke up the next day, every time, and tried again, or tried something different.  Life still went on.

My students have to take a lot of tests.  Sometimes a student fails the test and they are, of course, disappointed.  I tell them they can either retake the test, retake a different version of the test, or write an essay in lieu of the test as long as it’s related to something in the chapter.  That’s my favorite option to offer because it takes the pressure off and when the student writes a paper, the learning is often far longer lasting and far more meaningful.

I think life gives us options like that.  We can take the same test over after we have prepared better. We can take a similar version of the test after we have made some necessary changes.  Or we can do something completely different.

All of this talk of failure doesn’t mean however that I am encouraging myself or anyone else to give up.  I’m just trying to lessen the fear of failure and its mirror image, the fear of success. 

Failure is a teacher and so is success.  But there’s one more teacher: Honest Effort.  Every time I make an effort I am learning something about myself, about my potential, about the power I have and the limits I have (and don’t have).  Honest Effort is also my favorite teacher. Often, when I get past my fear and keep working, something new and wonderful and exciting awaits me.  And that new thing can be just as scary.  That may be another reason I froze:  I was afraid of my own power, of my own potential.  But Honest Effort transforms and changes us even more than Success or Failure.  Honest Effort tells me to Get Started and to Keep Going.  

Miserable

“Marines love to be miserable.  Marines derive a perverse satisfaction in having colder chow, crappier equipment, and higher casualty rates than any outfit of dogfaces, swab jockeys, or flyboys, all of whom they despise.  Why?  Because these candy-asses don’t know how to be miserable.

The artist committing himself to his calling has volunteered for hell, whether he know it or not.  He will be dining for the duration on a diet of isolation, rejection, self-doubt, despair, ridicule, contempt, and humiliation.

The artist must be like that Marine.  He has to know how to be miserable.  He has to love being miserable.  He has to take pride in being more miserable than any soldier or swabbie or jet jockey.  Because this is war, baby.  And war is hell.”

Steven Pressfield – The War of Art

My car isn’t working right and I’ve taken it to two different mechanics at least four times.  I ate late and what I got was not very good and I wound up throwing it out.  It feels like I haven’t had time with my Muse in years.  I can’t seem to get my homework done.  I’m not getting enough sleep.  I’m miserable.  And I love it.

Okay.  I don’t love it.  I don’t even like it.  If I did, it wouldn’t be misery.  Pressfield mentioned a “perverse satisfaction” in feeling miserable.  I’m not sure if that’s what I feel either.  What I do feel, however, is the desire to Get Started and Keep Going.  This is hard.  That’s what it is.  That’s all it is.  Sometimes it’s fun, when I’m really enjoying something I’m reading or when I’ve finished an assignment.  But sometimes not even then.  Sometimes I have to read something two or three times before I get something helpful.  Sometimes when I’m done with an assignment, I’m too tired to be satisfied and all I want to do is go to bed. 

I’m definitely feeling that diet of isolation, rejection, self-doubt, despair, ridicule, contempt, and humiliation.  Maybe not all of those and not all the time, but I can feel any one or more of those at any time.  I’m also feeling fatigue and fear and stress.

So why am I doing this?  Why am I writing a blog when I have so much to do?  Why am I pursuing something that is so difficult and time-consuming?  The answer to both questions is the same:  love.  I love my Muse and I love history.  And so I’m willing for both my future and the past to be miserable because it’s misery with a Purpose.  It’s also misery that’s temporary.  One day I will have my house on the beach.  One day I will have a Master’s Degree in History (that feels great just to write it).  Until then I want to enjoy this process, all of it including the mental blocks, the financial struggles, the fatigue, all of it.  I will never again have a time like this and I want to enjoy it and be grateful and let all of it, including and especially the difficult parts.

I don’t like being miserable, but I don’t hate it anymore either. I’m moving towards my goals and I’m doing something I’ve wanted to do for years.  I’m not miserable.  I’m blessed.

Steve Jobs said, “Stay hungry.  Stay foolish.”  I’m both right now and even though I’m miserable, I’ve never been happier.

Work

“Your purpose in life is to find your purpose and give your whole heart and soul to it”

Gautama Buddha

“This is the real secret of life -- to be completely engaged with what you are doing in the here and now. And instead of calling it work, realize it is play.”

Alan W. Watts

Work. Just work.  Do it.  Don’t worry about the results.  Don’t worry if anyone will like it.  Don’t worry about grades or approvals or “likes” or thumbs-ups or comments or attention or confirmation or affirmation or kind words or unkind words or any words at all.  Don’t worry about loneliness or loss.  Take the pain and do this.  Just keep working until you feel the joy that feeds your soul.  Keep working until you feel the peace that surpasses all understanding.  Even if you think you understand that peace when it inevitably comes and you say it’s because God and my Muse are here and that’s why you feel peaceful (it is) or even if you think that the peace comes from the physical act of doing the work (it is) or even if you think the peace comes because you are creating something like God created the world a or a new baby (it is) or even if you think the peace comes from all of or none of these reasons, it doesn’t matter.  It still surpasses all understanding.  It doesn’t matter.  You don’t have to understand it.  But if you know it comes whenever you do your work, then do your work as much as you can.  Don’t stop feeding your soul.    

Your life is not more than or just as much as or less busier and difficult as everyone else’s.  It doesn’t matter. You aren’t here to compare with someone else. In fact, there is no one else when you are doing your work, except God and your Muse.  They are the only ones you are trying to please and they are already pleased simply because you are living out your Purpose.

You’re here for a reason.  So busyness and stress and sadness and loneliness are all things to keep you from feeding your soul.  Work anyway.  Work wounded.  Work lonely.  Work sad.  Work angry. Work when one of your best friends has died.  Work when you wonder how long you will be alone.  Work when you are broke or hungry or tired.  Work when you are behind on your homework.  Work when you are confused or scared.  Work when you are painfully aware of your failings. Most of all work while you’re waiting for that voice, the Voice of God in the form of love or opportunity or a hope finally fulfilled after years of waiting and the Voice says, “Thank you for working while you were waiting for me.”

Just keep working. Work more than you have been so far.  Work until you’ve lost all sense of time.  Work until the world seems right again.  Work until you’re peaceful and it’s fun and you wonder why you didn’t start sooner and why you don’t do this more often. And then work some more.

What does it mean to work?  Create. Produce.  Exert.  Push. Go. Make. Do.  Most of all…Be. Be the person you were born to be by doing the thing(s) you were born to do.  Work.  Don’t stop.  This is one of the reasons you are here.  Get Started.  Keep Going.

Work.

It's All About Me...and the Rest of the World

“I don't want to do anything I'm supposed to do right now!!!!!”

Quote on Facebook

I really understand that sentiment.  I feel the same way.  I’m very close to finishing a rough draft on a 10-12-page paper that is due in two and a half days.  For the first time in a long time, I’m ahead of the curve.  I’m not starting on the day it’s due.  I’m at the top of page 8.  I’m so close.  And yet…and yet…  I find myself procrastinating, feeling disinterested, bored, and resistant.  What is it I am doing here?

Am I trying to create a familiar situation by avoiding my work until I feel stressed and rushed and have to do it at the last minute?

Am I genuinely tired?

Should I just not do it at all?

Should I quit school because it’s really hard and takes up all my time and energy?

What is it I am doing here by not doing my work?

Honestly, I’m not sure, but I have a clue.

Recently I listened to the audiobook version of No More Mr. Nice Guy by Dr. Robert Glover.  Though I won’t say it described me perfectly, it did point out, very accurately, self-destructive behaviors I have had all my life, such as conflict-avoidance, people pleasing, and worst of all, failing to live up to my full potential.  This last one is extremely unsettling because I’m at an age where (I believe) I should be settled, financially prosperous, and behind me, a stellar list of accomplishments.  None of those things feel true right now.  I’m not saying I haven’t done things, even good things.  I’ve published a book, I have a couple of degrees, I’ve written over 850 blogs, and I’ve done over 300 radio shows.  But I still feel as if I haven’t reached my full potential.  Now I am trying to change that. 

I started writing.

I enrolled in school pursuing a dream I’ve had all my life.

I’m taking control of my life and my finances and my time.

I’m even taking Ritalin so I can, as a friend said, “take the edge off” my ADHD.  (It’s helping.)

I’m closer than I’ve ever been. 

And that’s why I’m fighting so hard to finish this paper.  I am facing the Enemy.

In previous blogs, I have mentioned the Enemy. Steven Pressfield calls it Resistance.  I have referred to it as a spiritual force that is trying to distract and destroy us and keep us from fulfilling our Purpose.  It is.  But it is also something else.  And I forgot this very crucial fact.  It is me.  I am the Enemy.  I am Resistance.  I.  Me.  I am doing this to myself.  I.  Me.

I am the one who wastes time.

I am the one who gives into fear and negativity.

I am the one who intentionally sets unrealistic expectations and then feels discouraged when I don’t meet them.

I am the one who has not clarified his goals for this hour, today, this week, this month, or this year.

I am the one who doesn’t plan ahead.

I am the one who plans ahead but then doesn’t review the plans on a daily basis.

I am the one who allows others decide how I will spend my time, my money, and my life.

I am the one who doesn’t follow through on his commitments.

Me.  Me. Me.  It’s all me.

It’s not my parents or society or the church or my teacher or my boss or the weather or the government or my kids or my friends or my enemies.  It’s me.

Yes, there can be times when life seems to limit or alter my choices.  But those times are far fewer than we think and even then I can choose my attitude and in doing so can create a new course of action.

But I am my Enemy. 

So I can also be my Friend.

I can produce something even if it’s not perfect.  In fact, I’ve just now, at this very moment decided I’m no longer going to worry about if my blogs are good or bad or helpful or pointless.  I’m just going to do them. Recently a teacher said to me, “Just show up.”  Every time I write or work on a paper or do anything, large or small, to get me to my house on the beach, I am showing up.  By showing up I can Get Started and Keep Going…and take care of me. In this way, I also take care of the world and my part in it.