Check back soon
Once posts are published, you’ll see them here.
“Sweat more during peace; bleed less during war.” ~Sun Tzu
Let’s face it, sometimes life kicks us square in the ass. Entropy will always be there, looming like a moth attracted to our fire. It will continue to smash itself against all the shields we erect. It will always outflank us. And even if it’s not a complete walloping, it can still throw us off course or send our carefully laid plans scattered in the whirlwind of unexpected change.
The solution is having the audacity and discipline to build a better human despite a world hellbent on remaining mediocre. In this case, it means building a better version of yourself. Which is likely to hurt—mind, body, and soul.
But, as Ovid said, “Someday this pain will be useful to you.” That day just happens to be today. Today is the day you transform that pain into something useful, into something that will make you resilient enough to roll with the kicks and punches of an indifferent universe.
If you truly want to stay ahead of the curve, then you must be capable of transforming pain into purpose.
As Rumi said, “The cure for the pain is in the pain.”
Pain is inevitable. It’s a part of life. Avoiding pain just causes more pain. Ignoring or repressing pain just causes unnecessary suffering. But if you’re able to learn from that pain, it can become a steppingstone rather than a setback. Seen in this way, pain can be an initiation into wisdom (a sacred wound), and a flourishing into Eudaimonia. Which can be quite pleasurable.
There are no shortcuts. Pain is the ultimate teacher. Learn from it. Let it shape you. Let it sharpen you into an instrument worthy of magnificence.
Transform pain into self-discipline. Channel it through daily practice. Reroute it into routine. Let the routine tear you down and build you back up again. Manifest resilience despite resistance.
Pain is merely kindling for a greater fire. Gather the kindling. Become your own crucible, your own dojo, your own whetstone. Practice death in favor of life. Practice life despite the inevitability of death.
As Kenshin said, “Those who cling to life die, and those who defy death live.”
Keep the cycle going. Iterate through the pain. Destroy your delusions. Break your own heart. Tear yourself down and then build yourself back up. This is how mettle is sharpened, how character is forged, how antifragility is carved out of fragility.
As Elias Canetti said, “I want to keep smashing myself until I am whole.”
Do you want to be resilient when the boot of fate comes down? Inflict yourself with discipline. Inflict yourself with truth. Inflict yourself with philosophy. Smash and build. Smash and build. Tear and heal. Tear and heal.
Think of the human soul (or character) like a muscle. When you go to the gym to work out your muscles, you tear them down to build them up. This tearing creates scar tissue that increases blood flow to the muscle and makes you stronger. Similarly, the human soul (or character) can be torn down and built back up. The soul becoming stronger is the idea behind antifragility and post traumatic growth.
Soul growth comes down to comfort zone expansion. Muscle growth is to the tearing of the muscle as soul growth is to the stretching of the comfort zone. The comfort zone is the idle muscle of the soul. Without flexing it, without tearing it, without working it out, there can be no expansion. Thus, there can be no growth, no strength, and no flexibility.
As Nassim Taleb said, “Antifragility is beyond resilience or robustness. The resilient resists shocks and stays the same; the antifragile gets better.”
But everyone must build their own antifragility. It can’t be given to you by someone else. It can only be earned by digging down deep and doing the damn thing! It’s not built on wishful thinking, or pie-in-the-sky delusion. It’s built on the molten rocks of your own personal hell. It’s forged in the inferno of your deepest darkest humanness. Each brick must be dragged through the blood, sweat, and tears of self-overcoming.
Cut by the lashings of a thousand-and-one lessons, you bleed and scar, bleed and scar. You become a walking wound made sacred through discipline, perseverance, and self-iteration. You drag your own cross through the desert and imagine yourself righteous. You push your own boulder up the hill and imagine yourself happy. You howl through the thousand-and-one manipulative indoctrinating voices. You skewer the Red Herring and cook it over the smoldering flame of your existential rage. You settle all bets by turning all tables, flipping all scripts, and pushing all envelopes. You crush out like Dionysus despite rigid Apollo.
As Nietzsche said, “Dionysus cut to pieces is a promise of life: it will be eternally reborn and return again from destruction.”
Because human flourishing doesn’t just happen. It takes hard work. It takes transformation. It takes perseverance. It takes rebirth. It takes molten mettle and mercurial moxie. Because before you can get better at anything you have to suck at it first. You must be willing to be the fool before you can withstand being the master. You must surrender to the Mystery before you can become mysterious.
This surrender is a great sacrifice. It’s a leap out of comfort and into discomfort. But it’s also a leap from banality into magic. It gives rise to the mythopoetic beast within. Suddenly you’re free to howl despite the muzzle. You’re free to dance despite fetters. You’re free to play despite seriousness.
As Bukowski said, “We are far too serious. We must learn to juggle our heavens and our hells. The game is playing us, we must play back.”
Getting your ass kicked by the universe is being played. Cultivate the courage to “play back.” When your fear has you in checkmate, the only solution is to flip the table. Be a game changer and reintroduce the Infinite Game. Incorporate shamanic agency. Render yourself a philosopher king. Flip the track like an existential Deejay. Mete out the Mecca. Dig deep into your Shadow for that Black Gold. Dare to kick ass right back. Juggle heaven and hell, love and loss, purpose and pain, life and death. Form infinity patterns in the sky.
Image source:
About the Author:
Gary Z McGee, a former Navy Intelligence Specialist turned philosopher, is the author of Birthday Suit of God and The Looking Glass Man. His works are inspired by the great philosophers of the ages and his wide-awake view of the modern world.
This article (Getting Your Ass Kicked by The Universe and What to Do About It) was originally created and published by Self-inflicted Philosophy and is printed here under a Creative Commons license with attribution to Gary Z McGee and self-inflictedphilosophy.com. It may be re-posted freely with proper attribution, author bio, and this statement of copyright.
Comments