This process starts with identifying the things you want in your day, as if you were curating a small but thoughtful collection. What handful of things would make your day amazing?
Sometimes I’ve not the least interest, let alone hope, of getting to “amazing.” Sometimes my days are all spiders, paper-cuts, stubbed toes, and sepsis. And then I think: well, actually, what would it take to get to “amazing?” The answer is invariably two-fold: I would need to cut loose from something-or-other, and doing that would burn a bridge, (money, relationships, etc.) Then I waiver. Usually, I decide not to strike the match. But sometimes… I just want to strike the match and watch my world burn.
And Stoicism, it could be said, is a philosophy about how to make better choices. This is what we see in a book like Meditations. We see Marcus Aurelius journaling, working to get better at choosing. Choosing the right things to value, the right things to think, the right things to focus on, the right response to a difficult situation.
One of the first things you learn about philosophy is that the word means “the love of truth.” It’s the sort of clever thing a much younger version of myself would have bludgeoned others with. “See me study philosophy!” I long ago learned to set aside such cleverness.
Fortunately I learned that philosophy—at least, the sort I’m interested in—is about self-improvement. The proof of my work shows in myself… in my actions and the way I think, and is noticeable to those who care to pay attention. (I’m not suggesting that everyone should pay attention to me.) Surprisingly, at the deeper level of self-improvement, reminding myself that “philosophy” means “the love of truth”, has returned to being a great thing to trot out regularly… as a reminder to myself.
A precondition of becoming knowledgeable may be a resignation to, and accommodation with, the extent of one’s ignorance, an accommodation which requires a sense that this ignorance need not be permanent, or indeed need not be taken personally, as a reflection of one’s inherent capacities.
I hear a rumbling sound coming from my slipbox. It’s a rumbling sound like that of a distant summer thunderstorm, after dark. It’s the sound of a giant, grumbling in the next valley over. It works fine. I’ve simply had an idea for something that I can only do, if the slipbox were digital. I’m tinkering with some tools to see how exactly I want to set things up if I switch to digital. Interesting times!
What we miss about our own beloved Good Old Days isn’t so much the material things they remind us of—wholesome 1980s sitcoms, or musty thrift-store sweaters—it’s the particular feelings those days gave us, feelings which are now impossible to experience.
Cain rightly goes on to point out, that while we can’t feel those exact feelings again, there’s no reason we can’t—right this very instant—enjoy These Good Days. Ten years from now—presuming, of course—I can look back and think with a chuckle: Remember when I spent a couple years going really deep experimenting with knowledge systems. That was a fun exploration.
To live without self-respect is to lie awake some night, beyond the reach of warm milk, phenobarbital, and the sleeping hand on the coverlet, counting up the sins of commission and omission, the trusts betrayed, the promises subtly broken, the gifts irrevocably wasted through sloth or cowardice or carelessness. However long we postpone it, we eventually lie down alone in that notoriously uncomfortable bed, the one we make ourselves. Whether or not we sleep in it depends, of course, on whether or not we respect ourselves.
Sanderson argues you should instead experiment to figure out what combination of motivation, and circumstances, and accountability work best for your particular personality. He responds well to tracking a daily word count in a spreadsheet. Others, he notes, thrive under the social pressures of a writing group, while others lean on deadlines to induce work. The key is recognizing that the urge to avoid hard things is human, and should be expected. It’s part of the process.
I’m filing this under “things I wish I had learned 30 years ago”. Some things I really track, and some things I just do whenever I feel like. One way or another though, it’s important that I be honest with myself. “Do I really want to do this?” …or do I just like the idea of being able to say “I did that”?
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Alan Tran: Journaling, Reflection, and Looking Ahead →
How does the process of reflection and self-improvement shape personal growth and teaching methodologies?
Alan Tran is a parkour coach and collaborator from Raleigh, North Carolina. He’s the founder of Enso Movement and is a director for both the Art of Retreat and the United States Parkour Association. Alan continues to serve the parkour and movement community through active service and outreach.
I carved out the space to de-evolve and reinvent myself. In many ways, it wasn’t intentional by any means, at the start of my personal practices. But in many ways, it was a way for me to redefine who I was, who I wanted to be, and where my work would lead to.
~ Alan Tran (29:36)
The discussion weaves through themes of reflection, journaling, and the impact of vulnerability on personal growth and teaching. Through daily journaling practices, the importance of documenting emotions, achievements, and challenges emerges as a way to identify growth and patterns over time. Cultural connections, like the preservation of family history through photography, also highlight how past experiences inform one’s values and identity.
The conversation also explores innovative teaching techniques inspired by training a dog using communication buttons. This segues into reflections on coaching methodologies, the value of structured progressions, and how spontaneity plays a role in both teaching and personal development. By examining challenges like preparing for workshops under time constraints and balancing intuition with structure, the dialogue emphasizes growth through experimentation and self-awareness.
Takeaways
Reflection as a practice — Journaling and revisiting past thoughts help in recognizing personal growth and emotional patterns.
Cultural connections — Family stories and historical documentation preserve identity and values across generations.
Coaching methodologies — Structured progressions and spontaneity are key elements in effective teaching.
Experimentation and intuition — Creativity and growth often stem from embracing failure and learning under pressure.
The role of vulnerability — Being authentic and open fosters meaningful interactions and personal development.