2-Truth Tuesday: The Most Epic Routine, Hardcore Happiness Lessons, "Could" Is Poison, And A Powerful Passage On Freedom
Truth #1: "I could" is poisonous. Beware!
Today we examine a dangerous word. It creeps, it crawls, and it infects the minds of those unaware of it's poison with a false sense of comfort.
This word? "Could". And could is common. We all say it.
I could do this. I could do that.
I could (insert what you seem someone else doing). I could (insert aspirations and dreams).
What makes could so poisonous?
Could justifies and normalizes non-action. It lies to us. It gives us comfort and credit that is not real. It's an escape from reality, where one doesn't have to face risk and rejection.
It robs us of the self-growth that comes from action and keeps us in the self-sabotaging comfort of our minds. (I will soon be coming for you as well comfort)
So, next time you find yourself coulding, replace the justification for non-action with a question: "But will I?"
And if you won't, that's ok. But you weren't fraudulent. You gave that self-comforting could a reality check.
Truth #2: Lessons from the most epic routine
I spent a day last week re-living the absurd daily routine of Winston Churchill. Here are some highlights.
Massive breakfast and multiple hours of work in bed
2 long baths and an extended nap
6+ cigars (I topped out at 2)
More importantly, here was my unexpected takeaway on the absurd and borderline comical routine of one history's epic figures:
The second life of Winston Churchill is one of greatness.
Standing alone in Europe, repelling the evil of Nazi Germany. Uniting his nation and the world through his virtue and singular force of will.
Let’s re-wind. To understand the second volume of Churchill’s life, we must understand the first. Vision of glory. A political rise. A flaming WW1 disgrace. 8 years forgotten. Left alone.
Building his mind and self to prepare for a destiny not yet lived.
How did he do this? Churchill knew how to be his most productive, how to cultivate his peak state of mind. He mastered his daily formula of what makes a great day and stacked these days on repeat for years.
And he did so unapologetically, not giving a f*ck if you thought differently.
I smile, imagining him crafting this routine. Asking himself, what makes a great morning? A massive breakfast in bed, work and whiskey, and a bath. A great evening? Dining table diplomacy, dictation, the late night achievement of something positive and specific.
Is this not an amazing strategy for living a fulfilled life?
Podcast I'm Listening To: Lex Fridman and Jordan Jonas - Survival, Hunting, Siberia, God, and Winning Alone Season 6
Unexpected gem of a podcast I stumbled across. Jordan Jonas is a wilderness survival expert, the winner of a show in which the task is to survive alone in the arctic wilderness longer than anyone else.
While listening, I felt an energy and contentment with life emanating from this man. He speaks on lessons of history, happiness, survival, and love.
Some standout moments:
(01:49:22): Recounting his family's remarkable history of suffering and survival in WW1 and WW2.
(01:46:13): On the pursuit of happiness and lessons from The Gulag Archipelago.
On feeling lost in his late 20's and trusting God:
"I spent my whole 20s living in teepees and doing all this stuff." I thought, “I should give be getting a job, I should be pursuing a career, I should get an education of some sort. What am I doing for my future?”
He submitted to a calling from God to Russia and the Arctic. “Lord, I don’t see you. I don’t have any evidence. but I feel a clear call for action. I have only one request and that is that you would give me the faith to match my action.” (01:14:34)
Book pages I'm re-reading: The Gulag Archipelago Volume 1 by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
Jonas's reflections on history took me back to one of my favorite passages from the Gulag Archipelago.
Our author, Solzhenitsyn, a soldier, lies and reports himself as nuclear physicist. One night he is awoken and transported by a secret convoy to the “the paradise islands” (think of these as non-death camps for individuals the soviet regime needed).
He is transported on public transportation. It is the first time he has been amongst free people in years. This is after he has seen the most horrific things one can imagine. Side note: (it's to this lie he credits his survival and the preservation of this book, he remarks that he knows he would have died remaining in the camps)
"If the souls of those who have died sometimes hover among us, see us, easily read in us our trivial concerns, and we fail to see them or guess at their incorporeal presence, then that is what a special-convoy trip is like.
You sit on the ancient passenger benches, and you hear strange and insignificant conversations: about some mother-in-law who, for some reason, does not get along with her daughter-in-law; how neighbors in communal apartments make personal use of the electric outlets in the corridor and don't wipe their feet; and how someone is in someone else's way at the office; and how someone has been offered a good job but can't make up his mind to move-how can he move bag and baggage, is that so easy? You listen to all this, and the goose pimples of rejection run up and down your spine: to you the true measure of things in the Universe is so clear!........"
An unbridgeable chasm divides you! You cannot cry out to them, nor weep over them, nor shake them by the shoulder: after all, you are a disembodied spirit, you are a ghost, and they are material bodies. And how can you bring it home to them? By an inspiration? By a vision? A dream? Brothers! People! Why has life been given you?
In the deep, deaf stillness of midnight, the doors of the death cells are being swung open-and great-souled people are being dragged out to be shot. On all the railroads of the country this very minute, right now, people who have just been fed salt herring are licking their dry lips with bitter tongues. They dream of the happiness of stretching out one's legs and of the relief one feels after going to the toilet. In Orotukan the earth thaws only in summer and only to the depth of three feet-and only then can they bury the bones of those who died during the winter.
And you have the right to arrange your own life under the blue sky and the hot sun, to get a drink of water, to stretch, to travel wherever you like without a convoy. So what's this about unwiped feet? And what's this about a mother-in-law? What about the main thing in life, all its riddles? If you want, I'll spell it out for you right now.
Do not pursue what is illusory-property and position: all that is gained at the expense of your nerves decade after decade, and is confiscated in one fell night. Live with a steady superiority over life----don't be afraid of misfortune, and do not yearn after happiness; it is, after all, all the same: the bitter doesn't last forever, and the sweet never fills the cup to overflowing. It is enough if you don't freeze in the cold and if thirst and hunger don't claw at your insides. If your back isn't broken, if your feet can walk, if both arms can bend, if both eyes see, and if both ears hear, then whom should you envy? And why?
Our envy of others devours us most of all. Rub your eyes and purify your heart-and prize above all else in the world those who love you and who wish you well. Do not hurt them or scold them, and never part from any of them in anger; after all, you simply do not know: it might be your last act before your arrest, and that will be how you are imprinted in their memory!"
Heavy. Too often I take my freedom for granted. I await a day I meet another Gulag Archipelago reader.
What resonated with you this week? Let me know!
