Ancient philosophy was designed to be memorized, so that it could be "at hand" when we are confronted with tumultuous situations like the one Stockdale found himself in. … The students wrote these maxims down in their handbook, memorized them, repeated them to themselves, and carried them around–that's the point of a handbook, so the teachings are procheiron, or "close at hand."
Philosophy for Life and other Dangerous Situations, Jules Evans (2013) - p116
Oh! Hence handbook - something small that you carry with you to guide your actions or remember principles when the craziness of life messes up your mind. This got me thinking about what might be the beginnings of my handbook: the little ideas that run through my life. Here are some.
Ask me again in five years and I'll probably have added a few more. What's in your handbook?
I set aside Tuesdays and Thursdays for consulting. Fridays are for meetings and getting together with people. Saturdays are for spending time with my husband or having the rare party, and Sundays are for cooking and chores.
Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are discretionary time. I could spend those days working. My consulting clients would love to have more time, and there are all sorts of other things I could work on as well.
I've been making myself find good uses of that time on my own, though. Depending on the projects I'm focusing on, I might spend those days coding, drawing, reading, or writing. Lately, I've been working my way through a stack of philosophy books from the library. Histories give me overviews and show me the relationships between thinkers, while treatises give me the context for all these quotes that have been floating around.
Hmm. Maybe that's what fascinates me about philosophy at the moment. I've picked up bits and pieces of wisdom through quotes and summaries. Now I want to learn more about the context of those sound bites and the thought processes behind them. I want to reflect on the maxims, choose the ones I want to apply to life, and learn how to observe and improve. At some point, I'll probably feel that I can learn more from experience than from books, and then I'll jump back into the fray. In the meantime, it's amazing to be able to condense centuries of thought into afternoons of reading. Not that I fully understand everything, but there's enough to spark awareness and recognition.
I'm not particularly interested in the big questions of metaphysics, epistemology, or logic. Ethics, maybe–small "e" ethics, not as much the Ethics of What Everyone Ought To Do. I want to get better at choosing what's good for me and doing it. The ancient Greeks have a lot to say about that, and some of the later philosophers also do.
I'm not an entrepreneur, or at least not yet. I'm using this space and capital to improve myself (or at least theoretically improve myself) instead of building a business. I'm not even focused on learning a marketable skill that I can list on my résumé, although I'm sure my interests will turn towards that at some point. In the meantime, it feels good to lay the groundwork for more clarity and better decisions.
What's the next step? Well, since I'm interested in applied philosophy, that probably means testing these ideas out in everyday life. On the personal side, there's living simply and thoughtfully. On the social side, maybe practising more loving-kindness. I don't think I'm cut out to be a pure philosopher, so I'll likely use my time to learn, code, write, and draw. I wonder what I'll be curious about after I build a good foundation in this area. Useful skills, perhaps? Design and aesthetics? Business? We'll see.
In the meantime, I'll give my mind enough space to unfold questions and learn from the notes that people have left for us.
Ancient Greeks hired philosophers to help their sons develop various skills, such as rhetoric and politics. I might not have that same kind of tutor now, but through books, conversations, and contemplation, maybe I can teach myself a little. It's like having an imaginary board of advisors with different perspectives that I can draw on, a technique that Napoleon Hill describes in depth in "Think and Grow Rich".
It might help to ask myself; What are the life skills I want to learn, and which philosophers might be able to help me along those journeys? Let me take a look at some of the things I've already learned so that I can sketch out the next steps in that trajectory.
Equanimity: From Epictetus, I learned to focus only on what I can control: not what happens to me, but how I perceive and respond to that. I've also been learning about detachment from things I don't control. Why fear death? And if one doesn't fear death, why should one fear anything lesser? I'd already found it easy to take responsibility for my own happiness and outlook, but learning from Epictetus gave me a clearer way to see all those little decisions I make about how I see the world.
Self-improvement: From Aristotle, I'm learning to allow myself to use my leisure time to improve as a person. I occasionally worry that I should be spending this time building businesses and developing marketable skills, but I'm willing to experiment with Aristotle's assertion that philosophy is a worthwhile use of leisure time. I'm also learning that virtue is a muscle that you can exercise. As you get better at finding good activities that you enjoy more than activities that get in the way of your long-term happiness, and as you get better at wanting what's good for you instead of what's bad for you, virtue will become more natural. For example, I'm working on enjoying exercise and hanging out, and I'll work on appreciating art someday.
What else would I like to learn?
Getting along with people: I like this quote I came across in Bertrand Russell's The Conquest of Happiness:
"Fundamental happiness depends more than anything else upon what may be called a friendly interest in persons and things. … The kind that makes for happiness is the kind that likes to observe people and finds pleasure in their individual traits, that wishes to afford scope for the interests and pleasures of those with whom it is brought into contact without desiring to acquire power over them or to secure their enthusiastic admiration. The person whose attitude towards others is genuinely of this kind will be a source of happiness and a recipient of reciprocal kindness. … To like many people spontaneously and without effort is perhaps the greatest of all sources of personal happiness.
… The secret of happiness is this: let your interests be as wide as possible, and let your reactions to the things and persons that interest you be as far as possible friendly rather than hostile."
I like a few people spontaneously, and others with some effort. If I can identify the things that are getting in the way of my appreciation of other people, use Epictetus' teachings to detach myself from those hidden fears and anxieties, and use Aristotle's exercises to eventually prefer things that are good for me, I think I'll be able to appreciate people more. =)
Developing a better appreciation of people is probably a good next step to focus on. It seems kinda weird to think of it as a skill to improve, but we take all sorts of things for granted (and our corresponding mediocrity as a given) when they're really skills one can learn.
Following up on my reflections on Aristotle, I've been thinking: what kinds of relationships can help me build a good life, and how can I help others in turn?
Aristotle distinguishes among relationships for utility, pleasure, or virtue. I have friends whose company and conversation are agreeable. There are a few whom I would go out of my way to help. I'd like there to be more of the last category. Getting to know acquaintances more will probably turn up a few, and I'll likely bump into more with time and familiarity.
I get along the best with people who are positive, self-efficacious, and temperate. I'm biased towards people who are confident and articulate. This probably means I'm missing out on appreciating otherwise awesome people. I feel a little odd and uncharitable that I don't feel that kind of appreciation about lots of people - I can wish them well and be nice to them, but there's something missing there. C'est la vie, I suppose. Something to work on from my end, or perhaps to accept. Anyway, Aristotle says it's quite rare to have good friends.
It would be interesting to have a lunch or dinner club of maybe six to eight people, meeting once a month or so. What kind of conversation would help us grow? Maybe something like "Here's what I've learned so far about life; here are the things I'm figuring out; I need help with this; I can help with that; let's make a difference in this; what did you think about that?" Different perspectives on the same things, similar perspectives in different situations… Many things are improved by conversation.
What would I bring to something like that, and to the individual friendships that comprise it? The basics might be location, food, organization. I tend to be cheerful, rational, and research-oriented. I'm getting better at sharing what I think, and at structuring and doing small experiments to learn. It might be interesting to connect with other people who like taking a step back, thinking about stuff, and then stepping back in and doing things.
If I found such people, though, would I share what I've been thinking about? I'm biased towards writing online instead, since the asynchronicity lets me think at my own pace. Online, I can reach more people and receive more insights. When I'm in conversation, I tend to listen to what's going on in people's lives instead of talking through what I'm trying to figure out. I prefer groups because of variety and lack of obligation (I don't have to carry as much of the conversation), but I also tend to step back even further into the background - I guide the conversation with questions instead of adding my own tidbits. So there's probably work to do there too. I wonder what a well-running potluck club would look like…
Hey, wouldn't you know it… There's actually a book called The Philosopher's Table: How to Start Your Philosophy Dinner Club. Requesting it from the library.
Anyway, how would I need to develop in order to bring more to and get more from conversation? It might be interesting to ask about my friends' lives, and share more from my life (more like "Here are some odd things I've been learning; maybe they'll be useful to you" rather than "me me me me"). I can practise that even without major changes. I can also invite people to things and check with them more often to see if they have plans. Maybe people might even be up for trying a few months of this dinner club thing.