It may not be apparent from this blog but I have an insatiable drive to learn new skills and improve; do this thing well, that thing better, etc… I periodically turn the dial to eleven by striving for excellence at whatever damn goal I’ve a mind to pursue. (If generalities make my statements awkward, please forgive an artifact of OPSEC.)
I’m not saying this to brag. Frankly it gets awkward:
Normal person: “Have you seen that TV show XYZ?”
Me: “Nope, I don’t have time for TV. I was working on stuff and learning things.”
Normal person: “Unclean! Heathen!”
It’s how I’m wired. Sitting on my ass wears on me. I’m driven to do stuff.
Sometimes I do whimsical stuff. Other times I do stuff very seriously; with an aim of self-improvement. The latter is a big deal. I seek to improve because I am a man. I am a man because I seek to improve. Correlation is unavoidable. Causality is irrelevant.
I’m not alone. Many men reading this are nodding their heads in agreement. Creatures with a penis who read this with offense are not men; they’re “guys”. It’s different.
Self-improvement is coupled with accomplishment. Some accomplishments are small; “this cord of wood is stacked perfectly straight.” Some are large; “I defended my thesis!” Some are measurable; “I paid off every goddamn penny of my student loans.” Others are important but diffuse; “I was thoughtful and made my wife happy today.” Some are time dependent “I hiked to that particular patch of woods well before dawn on opening day.” Some are not “I’m going to rebuild that old truck when I get a chance.”
A man tries to “do well” in virtually any physical/mental/spiritual endeavor that appeals to him: fix a lawnmower, tie an elk hair caddis, learn French, run a marathon, do a crossword (without Wikipedia!), climb Everest, train a bird dog, coach a kid’s softball team, make a good omelet, etc…
At its purest form, his purpose is internal. Men aren’t trying to please a crowd; to do so would be pointless. The only audience that matters is himself; or perhaps God. This pursuit of inner quality its why men of a certain age dismiss youth’s addiction to selfies and social media. If a man meets a goal he set for himself it makes him happy; even if nobody knows. If he posts what he had for breakfast on Facebook and gets a thousand likes, it means nothing.
Men must move forward. Make a decision, set a goal, attempt to meet the goal. Reassess when necessary. When you reach a goal it’s time to pick another. Lather rinse repeat.
Men know the alternative is stagnation and eventually death. Bodies age and time passes, whether the totality is growth or decay is a choice. Ideally, strong muscles in a young man evolve toward experience and wisdom in an old one. If a man’s mind and spirit is the same at fifty as it was at twenty, he wasted three decades. If he let that happen he’d hate himself for it.
Success is, for the most part, irrelevant. It is the pursuit that matters. Failure (far more than success) will helpfully guide him in future improvement. “I was there but didn’t see any elk. So next year I’ll try across the ridge.” There is no shame in failure. There is shame in ambivalence.
In the next part I’ll start to tie all this together.
I await the next episode with breath abated.
Huh. I have two breasts and a vagina and I was nodding my head in agreement while reading this (I am smack in the middle of the same experience), until I got to the part where I was summarily dismissed and told this post wasn’t for me. Too bad. I enjoy your blog, but I guess I won’t be reading Part 2.
I didn’t mean to offend. It’s been my experience that women are less likely to go on crazy “vision quests” than men. Women just seem more level headed than more testosterone addled folk? Maybe I’m wrong! When I see some earnest hard working nut retooling an old car to double the horsepower or going nuts trying to grow the biggest pumpkin to win the contest at the fair or struggling to learn a guitar riff for the garage band that’s 20 years in his past… I always presumed it to be a male thing. As in, women are less nutty in this manner than men. My bad.
I meant to humbly say that I’ve no advice to offer the ladies of the world, not because I summarily dismiss them but because I thought today’s topic was more something men inflict on themselves and not common for women. I chose my words poorly. Please chalk it up to lousy wordsmithing on my part and forgive the unintended exclusion.
Also, since you mention you’re doing the same almost pathologically hard core self improvement I’m talking about… then you know exactly what it’s like and I sincerely wish you the best of success in your personal mountain climbing. Self improvement is hard. You’ve earned a salute from this humble blogger and whatever positive thoughts I can send your way. Good luck. The steepest path climbs the highest.
Thank you. I acknowledge that this a hot button thing for me–I am 52 years old and for the past five decades, I have had more than my share of men pat me on the head and try to tell me that what I am interested in “isn’t for you,” and attempt to shuffle me off to play with Barbies or whatever else they think I should be doing instead of affording me the chance to determine for myself what is appropriate or not. At this point in my life, I keep thinking damn, we should be past this shit already and then it leaps out at me again. I am working on not being so sensitive. On the other hand, if I don’t point it out when it happens, then it’s going to continue to happen.
I have basically zero spatial perception ability. (Of course, that is another man-woman thing, but one I believe to be biologically based, not socially based.) Over the past half dozen years or so, I’ve been buying old sewing machines and taking them apart and learning how to service them and put them back together just because I am determined to exercise that part of my brain and make it stronger. I sew, as well, and have made a point of choosing really complex patterns that also require me to challenge my weak spatial perception ability. They might reduce me to tears of frustration along the way, but the rush I get when I produce something complicated is really addicting.
I’ll be back for Part 2. 🙂
Awesome! I’m glad my dipshit writing didn’t ruin a good connection.
I was thinking about post #1 the last 200 miles (I’m “off line” while driving. I replied to your comment from a Taco Bell… classy eh?). I shouldn’t have even added that paragraph. It was negative in a post that was meant to be introspective. Also I conflated “powerful drive to improve” with “masculinity” which is probably a bad pairing. Oh well, “learn to write better than a monkey” is another of my goals and I’m still working on that. I hope post #2 and #3 don’t suck too bad. They’re already “in the pipe” and will post “automagically” shortly and I’m not hanging around good enough wifi to check.
BTW: I’m totally impressed with the ability to mess with sewing machines. I love using ’em but am terrified that the inside guts are a giant clockworks ready to explode into parts if I open the case. I’ve got a couple old machines and as far as I know they run on magic. Also I’m not much of a “sew-er” (OK what’s the right word there?). I’m perfectly happy patching the occasional torn knee on denim jeans and that’s about it. However, I’ve been considering trying to sew a crude tent. That’s right, a tent. Why not? The only thing holding me back is that I’m not sure I’ve got a machine that can handle tent canvas type material.
You know what? Even after two months the offending sentence “Ladies, like most men I have no idea what’s going on in your skull so this post is not for you.” still pisses me off. I meant to limit my ramblings to the folks who’s mind I understand best. To limit my thoughts lest they tread where I ought not. But it was sloppy and came out bad. I should have struck it long ago.
Then again who frets over a two month old blog post? I do!
The line is gone. It was bad writing and I couldn’t leave it there.
Two weeks ago, I cooked a whole pig on a spit over a pit of coals that I built myself in my yard.
I had to invite a crap load of friends over (because what am I going to do with 60 pounds of delicious pork? It would go bad long before I could eat it all, and that would be a crime.)
The question I got asked the most by the visitors was, “What made you want to do that?”
The only answer I could give them is, “Because I never have before.”
Perfect logic!
So did you get it done!? I wanna see! Email pics!
No pics. My newly constructed giant orbiting death star will announce itself in due time. 🙂
Just kidding. But no pics. My dog won’t allow the OPSEC violation.
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