Achilles – Page 8 – Achilles & Aristotle

Achilles, Children, Death, Life, Odysseus, Psychology

Dead Mum or Dinosaurs

I was debating with a friend yesterday whether he should feel any more concerned by the beliefs and values of his dead mum as the behaviours of dinosaurs. Both belong to the past; we live in the present. And soon we’ll be down with the dinosaurs – extinct.

We were on the topic of ‘self limiting beliefs’ – ideas we carry around which help us ignore reality or choose not to tackle the big questions in life. And the big question we were discussing was: how much to save for old age and how much to spend in the middle years.

I’m persuading him (especially if he’s reading this) that save, save, save and worry, worry worry are to be finally and fully vanquished. (Paradoxical that, as I bow to no man in my capacity to worry about the future). But he’s just about ‘home free’ financially and just ain’t rational to keep on saving when your days are numbered.

Just because your folks were thrifty until their last breath, doesn’t mean it’s right for you. Life is for living. We’ll all be dead before we want and it behoves us to get on and enjoy ourselves if we can afford to.

I’ve often worried much more about the years to come than the ones I’m living. So I’m with the dinosaurs, get munching those leaves and worry less about the meteor.

Achilles, Art, Life, Philosophy

Life as Art

I always used to be big on objectivity – getting to what’s factually and actually right. But I’m much less obsessed with the ‘objective’ these days.

The (at times painful) discovery of my working and family life is that, with the exception of basic chemistry and arithmetic, pretty much everything in life is a matter of interpretation.

It all depends on where you’re looking from, what you’re looking with and how you’re understanding what you’re seeing. Different lives and different experiences equal very different interpretations of the same data. There are few facts and many interpretations.

So, with the passage of years and against my better judgement, I’m strangely drawn to Sartre’s view nicely encapsulated here:

Since I could always have chosen some other path in life, the one I follow is my own. Since nothing has been imposed on me from outside, there are no excuses for what I am.

Since the choices I make are ones I deem best, they constitute my proposal for what any human being ought to be.

The inescapable condition of human life is the requirement of choosing something and accepting the responsibility for the consequences.

Which makes me totally responsible for the life I choose.

Freed from the shackles of objectivity – that there is a right answer or a right way to live – I realise that in fact we often have more choice than we think.

What happens to us is more our responsibility than we are sometimes ready to accept. Every life is a unique, personal and ongoing act of creation. We live creating the ultimate work of art – ourselves.

Norman Mailer puts it pithily:

Every moment of one’s existence one is growing into more or retreating into less. One is always living a little more or dying a little bit.

Life is a work of art. But these days I’m happy to settle for the bustle of a Dutch feast, instead of seeking the perfection of an Italian ceiling.

Achilles, Art, Language, Life, Odysseus, Writing

Writing

Is there a better thing than writing? While I’m not with the 20th century British philosophers who said language is all there is, I am with Aquinas. He’d say that, along with body and soul, language is a defining part of the human experience.

20th century norms made writing a minority sport – one for the professional. The rise of social media in the 21st century means we can all have a go.

I find if I don’t get the chance to write something, the day feels unfulfilled. And if (rarely) I’ve a moment with nothing I have to do, writing – or reading someone else’s writing – is the first thing I want to do.

For twenty years – from university to my 42nd year – I didn’t write anything for my own pleasure at all. Thank goodness for the invention of iPhone as my carry along notebook. I couldn’t be happier than when tapping out a bit of text with my right thumb.

Achilles, Death, Life, Sport

The 3 Big Questions in Life

There are only three questions that really matter in life… So said Britain’s oldest man on his 109th birthday.

They are:

1) Where did I come from?
2) Who am I?
3) Where am I going?

He died yesterday at 110. One short of the classic superstitious cricket score 111 aka ‘Nelson‘ when unlucky things are believed to happen. A pretty good innings though.

He said he knew the answer to 1) and 2) but not yet to 3). I’d be ok on 1). And pretty good on 2) too. But 3) is always the undiscovered continent until you get there.

Achilles, Life, Odysseus, Poetry, Work, Writing

Dearth of Verse

A dearth of verse
Makes me wonder
Whether my inner life
Is playing second fiddle
To putting myself on the stage

I’m living in interesting times
And putting my shoulder to the wheel
Leaving precious little time
For introspection
Or verse

But I’m bottling up less
Speaking up and plainly
Maybe that’s why verse has subsided
Perhaps some inner tension
Has subsided too

Poets die younger
Performers live longer
To my surprise
I’m currently happier performing
Than turning terse into verse.