Imagine trying to understand everything in the world. The depth of people’s lives and the things they do, the dedication to a lifelong craft or predilection.
All those things! Reflexology, seashells, drumming, stage lighting, rice farming, slaughterhouse management, helicopters, opera at the old Met in the 50s, the country Chad, iceworms.
You can pick anything, anything at all and get enveloped by it. Immerse yourself, lose yourself. Just one thing is all it takes to dedicate the rest of your life doing.
Nobody could ever learn everything there is to know, but of course that’s not the point. The point comes down to the how (we know this — it’s not you do, but how you do it) and also the why. Why do you do what you do?
Why is not easy to answer. “I’m a rice farmer because that’s what my ancestors have done for 2 thousand years,” is fair enough. I’m obsessed with studying 1950s American opera because that’s just what I love to do,” is another perfectly plausible answer.
Why do I surf? I surf because it’s enjoyable, it feels good.
Greatness supersedes all these commonplace traditions, nostalgia, genuine interest and “just because.” For me, it’s a feeling far beyond my calculation or imagination. It just is and I know it.
Therefore, all the things I do are only as important as they serve my calling. The trick is to not get so wrapped in that theory that I don’t enjoy the simple things in life, and/or don’t actually get anything done at all.
I guess what I’m getting at is wondering what’s it’s like to be a great man, and how to conceptualize the inner being to what people are doing.
If it isn’t by obvious now, I’m trying so hard not to pass out from sheer exhaustion and tiredness.