Have you ever truly anticipated an upcoming event and “lo and behold,” you are going to be the main performer? You are ready – poised — you couldn’t be better prepared. You can’t sleep the night before and you play the presentation, or concert, or paper out in your mind, again and again: all has reached a crescendo. Just to reinforce: you contemplate all the nuances, all the potential minefields. Much like the Battle of the Somme in 1916, (1) you have bombarded your fears for a protracted period of time. There are no fears left: are there? You are confident: congratulations! But, as you stand in the hall, the “sparkle” does not come to you. You are not afraid, nor even nervous, but no spark, no “ah” moment, no nirvana. This produces its own angst but, more importantly, it takes your eyes off the task at hand; you lose focus.
Your turn: you are introduced and “off you go,” but you sound hollow. Focus! Focus! You finish the lecture, but it is not good enough, not epic! The most telling of all: people come up to you and thank you for a wonderful speech. You accept the praise but feel deceitful. This is called “the dip,” according to Seth Godin – a temporary setback; “Here’s a quote from ultramarathoner Dick Collins: Decide before the race the conditions that will cause you to stop and drop out. You don’t want to be out there saying, ‘Well gee, my leg hurts, I’m a little dehydrated, I’m sleepy, I’m tired, and it’s cold and windy.’ And talk yourself into quitting. If you are making a decision based on how you feel at that moment, you will probably make the wrong decision. … Extraordinary benefits accrue to the tiny minority of people who are able to push just a tiny bit longer than most.” (2)
It is, quite naturally, a moment to feel a “little down,” you have produced only a sliver of your true capacity. Now is the time to refocus your efforts and “get down to work.” You smell a whiff of hubris at play. The odor is unpleasant, even nauseating. “If one sins against the laws of proportion and gives something too big to something too small to carry it – too big sails to too small a ship, too big meals to too small a body, too big powers to too small a soul – the result is bound to be a complete upset. In an outburst of hubris the overfed body will rush into sickness, while the jack-in-office will rush into the unrighteousness that hubris always breeds.” (3) Moments like these produce a re-assessment, a re-calibration. It is great to be re-humanized, “brought down to Earth,” as my father used to say. It is difficult, in my estimation, to ask yourself those defining questions that open the door to serious self-analysis when “the stream is flowing just fine,” thank you very much. You need moments that you are “slapped’ to stop and ponder life, love and the meaning of your message.
My friend Richard asked me a question the other day (to paraphrase); does the poor man have any less value than the rich man in our capitalistic system? The (present) president of the United States, for example, would want us to answer “yes.” If I have acquired monetary gain in my lifetime, I am a better human being than my poorer confrere who has not. The Chilean-German economist Manfred Max-Neef, would disagree. He frames the response in a totally different way. He tells the story of a poor seamstress who lacked a loom to be able to mass-produce clothing: she was able to produce only one piece of clothing a week. A loom was duly purchased by foreign aid workers. It was now possible to produce seven pieces of clothing a week. When the aid workers returned six months later, the woman was still only producing one piece of clothing a week. They were incredulous. What has happened: why are you still only producing one piece of clothing? The simple answer: now I only have to work one day a week and I can spend the rest of my time with my family? “I believe in local action and in small dimensions. It is only in such environments that human creativity and meaningful identities can truly surface and flourish.” (4) To the woman, time had more value than lucre. My message must have more value than simple words spoken on a Sunday afternoon. The great thinker, philosopher, and mystic, Martin Buber (1878-965) leaves us with a thought: There are three principles in a man’s being and life: the principle of thought, the principle of speech, and the principle of action. The origin of all conflict between me and my fellow-men is that I do not say what I mean and I don’t do what I say.
A closing thought: It is always essential to have friends who can tell you the truth. There are times, at least in my life, that self-importance clouds your judgment. You fall afoul of the fact that your message must be a unique droplet that flows with all unique droplets in a great river to the sea, the sea of life.
An amusing occurrence: Men don’t like maps, directions or any of that unnecessary paraphernalia that gets in the way of our natural GPS. One time I was driving with my wife and was forced, with great reluctance, to defer to her sense of direction. “You turn left, you say?” I inquired. “That’s right: turn left,” was her reply.” “Left?” “That is right!” “Right?” I reiterated. “Right!” she replied, now fully flummoxed, an argument just simmering below the surface. I duly proceeded to turn right into oncoming traffic.
This week, please ponder how you overcome rejection and failure.
Every day look for something magical and beautiful.
Quote: Appreciate the moments that you have to listen to the telling advice of others. There is wisdom spoken by those who truly care for you: thankfully, you are not alone in the universe.
Footnotes:
2) The Dip by Seth Godin (ISBN 978-1-59184-166-1)
3) The Republic: a Socratic dialogue written by Plato
4) From the Outside Looking In: Experiences in Barefoot Economics by Manfred Max-Neef (ISBN 978-1-856491-877)