The Unencumbered Life

Are the things we own blessings or burdens? Actually, do we own our stuff at all, or does it own us?

The New York Times ran a wild story this weekend about a French tech entrepreneur living in the US who has had a very unusual mid-life crisis. With an estimated net worth of 100 million dollars, Fabrice Grinda came to feel that all the great stuff he owned had become a burden that was actually keeping him from the more important things in life. So he decided to downsize radically and experience an unencumbered existence. He moved out of his huge mansion that sits on 20 acres of land in New York state, got rid of his $300,000 McLaren sports car, released his $13,000 a month apartment in the City, gave away tons of stuff, and kept only what he could fit into a roller bag suitcase and a backpack. He decided that he'd simply be a free spirit nomad and go live with his friends, one at a time, enjoying their company, rather than all that stuff. Having shed his physical burdens, however, he quickly became a major burden to each of those friends.

It seems that the wealthy man didn't do his own laundry, or make his own bed when he stayed with friends. He liked to talk loud, stay up really late, and eat everything in their refrigerators. He ended up giving all of them their own crises and learning as a result that the unencumbered life wasn't as easy as he had imagined.

This past week, I read several short novels by John Steinbeck, including the very funny Tortilla Flat, and the almost equally amusing Cannery Row, both of which are about groups of poor but festive characters in and around Monterey, California, in the early days of the twentieth century. They had no regular jobs, often slept in the woods, or in old, run down buildings that others provided, and managed to "find" food and wine on a fairly regular basis. They were scoundrels with hearts of gold. They lived off the generosity of their neighbors, but somehow thought of themselves as the real community benefactors. Their unencumbered lives gave them a special freedom, at least in their own minds. As you read their stories, you can't quite decide whether they present an extreme yet attractive ideal of the free spirit, or are really just completely irresponsible social parasites, living as slaves to their own peculiar instabilities and passing appetites, while depending on the charity, or gullibility, of others to support them. 

Both the stories of Steinbeck and the peculiar tale of Fabrice Grinda raise the question: Are the things we own indeed blessings or burdens? Do we actually have possession of them, or do they have possession of us? Are the many responsibilities of ownership to be avoided or embraced?

You may not be surprised to hear that most of the great practical philosophers have said, "It depends." On what? Attitude and intent. Your proclivities, enjoyments, and tolerances. I've known people with four or five big houses. They seemed unburdened by the responsibility. They knew how to manage the complexity. They thoroughly enjoyed what they had. And it didn't at all appear to constrain their freedom. There are, of course, also big  moral issues deep in the background, behind all lavish lifestyles, matters of global scope and existential perplexity, but my friends have seemed unburdened by those, as well. We can't solve all the world's problems. But we can solve some of our own.

The point of responsibility is to grow us as souls. Our commitments, to people, endeavors, and things, form us. We can make bad commitments or good ones. How do they function in our lives? That's the central question. It's all about functionality. Can we do great and valuable things with the people, endeavors, and things in our lives? Do they serve to enrich us, or to burden us? The things we own need to be maintained, repaired, protected, and, of course, used. And we all differ as to where the point is that this becomes a problem rather than something we can enjoy. We typically don't discover our limits in such matters except by crossing them and finally seeing them from the other side. That's part of what keeps fantasy alive for those who haven't reached their limits, yet.

Throughout history, ascetics have believed that the path to salvation lies in ridding ourselves of all our stuff and then opening ourselves to the spirit. But as a philosopher, I believe that the second, and ultimately important, activity does not depend on the first. Physical things can become a spiritual obstacle, but they need not be, in proper measure and with the right role in our lives.

The Oracle at Delphi proclaimed, "Nothing in Excess." What counts as excess for you? Are you living on the far side of it, and suffering from that? Do you need to make some adjustments? Fabrice Grinda came to believe he needed to make a radical change. But like many, he went too far, and has been schooled, as a result, in moderation. I guess that's hard when your finances tell you anything's possible. But regardless of what our net worth might whisper to us, many good things are possible, and they depend on our own discernment, a function of wisdom. It's the path of wisdom to choose properly. Don't let a culture of materialism dictate your life and put you in chains. And it's just as important to avoid false fantasies of freedom. Pick your own proper way. And that, ultimately, depends on the Oracle's second main injunction, "Know Yourself."

Judging People

"Judge people not by what they are, but by what they strive to become." - F. Dostoyevsky

That's an interesting recommendation, isn't it? We're always judging people by what they are. And that seems almost too obvious a procedure to have any wise alternative. We size people up by looking at what they do, listening to what they say, and weighing more heavily their actions over mere words, we categorize and label. "He's a good guy." "She's someone I can depend on." "He's a nut."

But Dostoyevsky, one of our great novelists and analysts of human behavior, has another take on this. He seems to believe, like Aristotle, that we're always in a state of becoming. And he means to take this seriously. He wants us to ask of another person, not simply what he or she is right now, or what he or she has been in the past, but what, to the best of our ability to detect, this person is striving to become. Note that he's not asking merely what a person seems to be becoming, or hopes to become, but what that person is actively striving to become. And striving is a matter of real effort and persistent aspiration. It's not wishing. It's a matter of climbing some high hill. And that's deeply interesting. For one thing, not everyone seems to strive at all. And this in itself can be telling.

But there may be a problem with this advice. Such a thing as personal striving is sometimes harder to identify than other normal facts, isn't it? Most of the hills we climb aren't physical. They're not always easily visible. It's not just a matter of surface appearances. And it's certainly not just a matter of what people say. Such judgment may require looking more deeply and discerning more completely.

On those occasions when it's really important to size up another person, I think our advisor is right, however challenging his recommendation might be. We should take into consideration an individual's dreams and desires, his or her aims and aspirations, and especially their strivings - what they give earnest and persistent effort to. Because then, perhaps, we'll better capture what they'll most likely be when we really need them, down the road a bit.

It's an interesting idea, isn't it?

The People You're Around

You become like the people you're around.

A man sitting next to me on a plane told me an interesting story. A therapist friend of his asked him to make a chart on a piece of paper. On the left side he was to write:

Physical

Social

Emotional

Financial

Spiritual

Then, he was to draw vertical lines, making five columns to the right of these categories, and at the top of the columns to write the names of the five people he was around the most, but including only one member of his immediate family. Then he was to assess the health of each of these people in each of those categories, writing a brief summary or evaluation, in as few words as possible.

The therapist left him to the task for 20 minutes, then came back in, and read over what he had writen. He then said, "I want you to look over this carefully. You have just predicted your own future. Make sure it's the future you want. Or make the changes you need to make."

I said, "Really? What happened as a result?" 

He said, "The divorce was easy. But ending my business partnership was a lot harder."

I was surprised. We don't always have to take such dramatic steps. But we do need to remember that we become like the people we're around. That can be great. Or it can be scary, depending on who you're around and what you really want to become. We're all in a state of becoming, all the time. Ask yourself this: Am I associating with the right people who will help me to become the person I most want to be?

And if the answer is not a resounding YES, then start making some changes, however small.

Today.

Learning From Each Other

"Some wisdom must be learned from one who is wise." Euripides

Are you ever tempted by a completely do-it-yourself approach to life? Do you ever harbor thoughts that in business or in your personal life, you can successfully make it all up as you go along, figuring it all out, at least sufficiently for your own purposes? 

Whether we ever explicitly think like that or not, that’s often the way we act. Why don’t we consult the wisdom of others more? There are people all around us who have insight to share if we’d just tap into it. They don’t have to be wiser than you to have something to offer you. As long as they think of something differently from the way in which you customarily think, as long as they approach life from a slightly different angle - and, let’s face it, everyone does - there’s something you can learn from the people around you, perhaps in unexpected ways.

Socrates taught Plato, Plato taught Aristotle, and Aristotle taught Alexander the Great.  Who are you teaching? And who is teaching you? Don’t think you can do it all yourself. Consult with someone who is wise. 

Today.

Weight Room Wisdom: Part Two

A few more recent insights from my daily time in the gym:

Lesson Four: Perspectives can work, excuses won’t.

One day, while we were still in the weight room, but as we were getting ready to leave, my workout partner Don packed up and said, “Ok. Great workout! See you tomorrow.” I replied, “Well, I don’t know. It’s supposed to rain really hard tomorrow.” He said, “Not in here.” I had to laugh.

There’s a lesson to be had in that response. By our attitudes, we can magnify or reduce the significance of obstacles that come out way. Why should we ever do anything to magnify the problems and inconveniences we face? And yet, it’s every bit as common as it is irrational and self defeating. Excuses are easy. We should do our best to avoid them, and take a more pro-active attitude in whatever challenge we face. We always have the freedom to adopt a more useful perspective on any tough situation than appearances alone might suggest.

Lesson Five: Two of the most liberating words in the world are: “So what?”

On another day recently, Don introduced me to a powerful personal philosophy embodied in the two words: “So What?” He told me about a recent time when he got to the gym with shorts and T-shirt but realized he had forgotten his workout/running shoes. He first thought was, “Oh, no.” But then, he immediately reversed course and said, “So what?” And he got to it. If you’re not wearing two thousand dollar handmade Silvano Lattansi brogues, go work out anyway.

So, suppose you show up at an event and discover that, through no fault of your own, you’re improperly attired. So what? Go on in with confidence. You get to a meeting and realize you didn’t bring some paperwork you had wanted to have. So what? Don’t stress out. That helps nothing. In any situation where a valuable goal is in play and a challenge or unexpected difficulty arises, this is a great inner response. When we learn to shed the dread, we up our game and improve our prospects for positive outcomes.

I’ve learned that The “So what?” Philosophy can work in many useful ways. You’re hesitating to make an important call or send a crucial email. You may get rejected, or worse, ignored. So what? Do it anyway. You’re trying something new and worry that you might fail badly. So what? Failure is more often than not a necessary prelude to success. Of course, such an application of the “So What?” Philosophy doesn’t depend on believing that nothing really matters, only that so much of what we fear and worry about doesn’t.

As an addendum, hours after I wrote this, Don showed up for the daily workout and discovered in his car that he had left his gym bag at home. He had on long pants, his work shoes, and a golf shirt, the outfit he had worn for calling on clients that morning. His attitude, once more: So what? He found a dirty balled up t-shirt in the car, put that on, and had a good workout.

Lesson Six: It’s important to have fun.

In the weight room, we work hard, but we also have fun. My friend Don is 51 and surfs many times a week, and skateboards, and fishes, and bowls, and plays golf and tennis, planning all this around his work, so that there’s always plenty of time for fun. How many of us do that? As he said to me the other day, “Most people our age seem to think they’ve grown out of the fun stuff they enjoyed earlier in life and have to give it up. Why? We should always have fun, as much as we can.” That seems to be a great life philosophy, and even one you could build a beer commercial around.

Have fun in your work. Have fun at home. Have fun whenever you can. But, you might worry, maybe the serious people around you will think you’re crazy.

So what?