Is the suffering worth the contribution?
I have this question sticky-noted at the bottom of my computer screen so that I read it every day.
And whenever I feel like I’m suffering from the work I’m choosing to do… I ask myself… Is it worth the contribution it provides?
If the answer is no, I stop doing it. Or begin to plan ways I can phase it out of my life (whatever “it” is).
And if the answer is yes, well then, I suffer a little less and feel better as I get back to it.
Why do we look at ourselves in the mirror so frequently throughout the day?
Like, we just saw ourselves 10 minutes ago after getting out of the shower… why must we check our appearance again after getting dressed? And again after getting into the car? And again after getting to work? And again in the store mirror? And again and again and again…?
Maybe it’s because we know things change—and can change rather quickly and unexpectedly.
Like, what if we got a piece of food stuck in our teeth? Or our hair got messed up? Or our clothing malfunctioned and a little more skin was showing than we intended?
…I’d be lying if I said I didn’t check for these things throughout the day.
…And there’s nothing wrong with this.
My followup question however, is how often do you check the mirrors that reflect your inner state?
People are much more likely to mention a piece of food stuck in your teeth or hair standing up or a wardrobe malfunction than they might be to mention a sour mood, an unusually short temper, or a judgment malfunction…
People can help us with our outer reflection, but our inner reflection is mostly on us to check-in with.
…Which we do by meditating, reflecting, writing, and mindfully walking or conversing.
If this isn’t already a part of your day, maybe it’s time to make it a part of it. And, like physical mirror check-ins, maybe it don’t have to be so formal… after all, “look in the mirror” probably isn’t blocked into your days… yet you do it all the time.
…What if you did the same with your inner mirror?
This morning, Facebook memories resurfaced an old video of me performing a bo (staff) combo in casual clothes after a casual training session that blew me away.
It was so creatively different than so much of what’s being performed in the martial arts school I teach at these days.
And what’s interesting about this clip is that even though it was 4 years ago, I distinctly remember this particular training session.
A couple martial arts students asked if I wanted to have a Sunday session, I agreed, we went to the school, blasted good music, and just messed around and fed off each other’s energy for several hours.
…We started by training what we knew.
…We continued by doing variations of what we knew—oftentimes either hating or hurting ourselves with the results (I’ve whacked my hands and head with my bo more times than you’ve probably ever touched a bo).
…We were oftentimes inspired by the variations done by our training comrades.
And we ended up with a few interesting ideas that we then chained back together with what we knew coming into the session… which left us with an upgraded skillset that prompted the above video and this share.
This is how growth works.
A willingness to try. A chunk of undisrupted time. And the ability to keep trying in spite of the hate and hurt.
…Bonus points, of course, if you have a good playlist and aligned company.
P.s. Day 3: I was able to personally thank a gentlemen who occasionally texts out an uplifting thought in the mornings to a group of aligned and opted-in friends.
If you want to remember your worth, remember the sheer amount of time and energy other people have invested into you.
As mortal beings with limited time and limited energy, we’re hard wired to prioritize the people and things whom we believe are worth the investment of our most precious resources.
…Which means to say you’re “worthless” is to say that the time and energy that others have invested into you is worthless, too.
…Which is quite a harsh thing to imply towards those who have given you so much.
…So, no.
…You are not worthless, dear reader.
You have the entrusted strength not only of hundreds of thousands of non-refundable human hours and un-returnable calories of energy invested into you… but, the strength of the same from every single one of your ancestors who have come before, invested into you as well.
The fact that you’re even here contemplating your worth is one of the most miraculous, incomprehensibly astounding things this universe has to offer.
Keep your head up and proceed onward like you mean it.
Everything I loved about you
Is what I’ve used
To rebuild me
What used to be pieces
Of you
Used to complete me
Have become pieces
By you
Built into me
By leaving me in pieces
…Bless you
I’ve reengineered a more—
Complete me.
P.s. You can read my other poems here.
Gifting is one of the core principles at Burning Man.
The idea is that everybody brings more than they need so that each participant can practice decommodification (another core principle) and can devote themselves to unconditional gift giving.
Gifting does not contemplate a return or an exchange for something of equal value—which can be a foreign concept to grasp in our transactionary world. In fact, those who try and pay, barter, or otherwise offer a return for a gift miss the point entirely—the point is to have an emotional exchange (more on that here).
That said, one of the best gifts I received from Burning Man didn’t come from Burning Man—and I received some incredible, breath-taking gifts.
…The best gift I received came from those who made it possible for me to go TO Burning Man.
Specifically, my mom who house and dog sat for me for the entire duration of my trip and my coworkers who stepped up and helped run the martial arts school for me while I was completely off grid.
The gift they provided was one I’ll truly never forget: the experience as a whole.
…And this is one of the greatest gifts we can offer one another.
Not only the gift of experiences shared, but those unshared.
The gift of allowing other people the freedom to travel, adventure, and explore all that this life has to offer—even if (especially if) that means staying back and covering for them while they’re gone. Not because we don’t want to go, but because in allowing them to go, we gift them wings—and nothing should feel better than watching them fly.
I live around the corner from a large church.
Every now and again I’ll turn the corner in my car—usually lost in thought thinking about my “problems” and how I might solve them—and see a hearse parked in front with a few people dressed in suits and black dresses surrounding it.
It’s a jolting reminder that, regardless of where you are on your journey, it’s not over.
As hard as things might be, as scary as the future might appear, as painful as the past might feel… so long as there is still breath and beat in your body… let there, too, be life.
And by life I don’t mean existence… I mean life. Time spent doing all of the things the person in that hearse maybe wish they were able to do in the final few days of their life.
…It’s now or never, y’all.
Let’s journey each day like we mean it.