The Ways We Are: Andrew
Andrew and I go way back when I posted on his internet forum that he has managed and built from scratch for years. After seeing my interest and passion for blogging, he got inspired to start his own at Don’t Feed the Animals; a witty title stemming from a reference to one of Chuck Pahliunuk’s novels, Choke. He writes smart, thought-provoking and well written essays about life and society from a convincingly Atheist perspective.
I’m 27 and I only recently figured out what I want to do with my life. This is how I came to that decision:
When I was in my late teens, I thought that the entire world could be explained by a mathematical equation. Of course, I never found that equation, but I was sure that it existed. Maybe I should blame the movie Pi for that, but I had really always been a logic-over-passion type of person. Personal happiness, my conjecture began, is as simple as plugging in the variables. Now, while I am no longer as naive, I do feel like I was on to something. Recently, for my 27th birthday, a friend handed me a book called The Black Swan by Nassim Nicholas Taleb. Written by a former trader and lifelong philosopher, this book appeared on the surface to be about economics and mathematics. However, beneath all the talk about stock market crashes and the Mandelbrot set, there was a real sense of practical clarity. The volatility of the various markets, one realizes, is no different than the everyday lives each of us choose to lead. There are markets for any personality; low risk, high risk, bland and exotic. Why, then, can we not take the approach we make toward money and apply it to real life?
If that seems a bit dispassionate to you, let me make it a little more vivid. I don’t know what you’re doing with your life right now, but whatever it is, I’m sure you can classify it under one of two categories. The first category, which Taleb refers to as Mediocristan, is where every day is generally the same; you can expect some variation, but even on the best or worst days, the overall experience doesn’t modify the landscape of your life. Consider waitressing: even your best day can occur within predictable means. A $500 tip would be outstanding, but it wouldn’t change your life. The second category, called Extremistan, offers a much different range of possibilities. In this environment, the majority of your days may seem just as monotonous as Mediocristan, but the potential for life-altering circumstances always looms. If you’re a writer, for instance, you can spend a lifetime in obscurity, earning meager recognition for your labor. Then, suddenly, you’re a hit. The ceiling on your potential success at this point is non-existent. Furthermore, the success you do achieve will undoubtedly alter your immediate life and your future, in addition to justifying all the years of toil you spent to get to that point. It all depends on what you expose yourself to.
Let’s go back to cold, unfeeling math for a moment now. At the heart of our two realms of existence, we have two types of probability; negative and positive. Negative probability works like this: if you’re a restaurant owner, the best you can realistically hope for is that your restaurant achieves success enough for you to either live off the returns or open another one. However, the worst that can happen is that you lose your entire investment (maybe more) when nobody shows up to eat your food. The general analysis? There is a lot invested for a mediocre, measured gain at best. Many of us choose this route because we are comfortable with the idea that the modesty creates a greater chance for success. Meanwhile, we have positive probably to consider as well. It works in the opposite manner of negative probability; small investments have a low chance of making it big, but when they do, the positives can easily outweigh a lifetime of negatives. The performer Eddie Cantor once said, “It takes 20 years of hard work to become an overnight success.” The first step in exposing yourself to the right kind of environment is to identify the type of probability at play within it.
Scalability is another key component to potential success. Consider that it would take considerably more work to make a million dollars as a waitress than as a writer. Though on your worst day as a writer, you will make less money than a waitress on her worst day, all it takes is one good day to change it all around. As a restaurateur, you’re required to keep opening more and more restaurants if you want to increase your profits; a single location can only earn you so much. However, as a venture capitalist, one can make an unlimited amount of investments, while only needing one hit to consider the path a success. It maximizes serendipity. Some people dream of wild success while working at a desk job or providing a personal service. I’m not here to say that they’re caught in a dream. Instead, I want to make a point out of their potential; no matter what heights they reach, they are always limited by the number of hours in a day and breath in their lungs. If we want to reach the stars, we know we can’t simply walk there, we have to be a bit more clever than that.
The most important factor in choosing what to expose yourself to: What will make you happy? Despite all I’ve said about success, I undoubtedly endorse the world of Mediocristan if you just want to be happy. What we’re talking about is a lifetime of small, incremental victories versus a lifetime of letdown after letdown, all in the hopes of a single moment of vindication. Any psychologist will tell you that the healthier path is the one that rewards you constantly, though modestly. When you live in Extremistan, you’ve got more than just probability working against you. Let’s say you do succeed and your life changes, what then? Suddenly, your standard for success has risen and now even the tiny victories are unsatisfying. We all know how this feels; we get what we want and we still want more. Even a repeat is disappointing if it doesn’t top what you achieved before. The path through Extremistan is not for the pleasure seeker, but for the dreamer.
How do we apply these ideas to our lives? I’ve done so by mixing both worlds together. I consider myself a writer and my goal is to be paid to write my own topics (enough to live comfortably), but I know that the chances of this are low – very low. It is a life of constant output with little to no feedback and, so far, superficial success (I’ve gotten a few articles on the front page of Digg and Reddit, I’ve even been on the radio to talk about one, but I have not earned a penny from any of it, nor has my blog maintained the initial burst of traffic provided by these successes). I retain my motivation by seeking validation in other areas. I have a day job that provides me with a means to earn and save money consistently. I also have taken up rock climbing, an activity in which I see improvements in both my physique and my technique that please me every day. While this may not sound like such a radical life, that is part of my point. You don’t need to martyr yourself for your lofty dreams, and you don’t have to settle for a boring existence.
Find the balance that works for you. Some people need to devote their life to a single goal, others juggle many balls at once. Then there are those of us who are happy to live in a hut by the beach, catching our own food in the ocean and ending every day with a sunset over the water. What worked for me was understanding the potential of the activities I got involved in and reconciling that with the dreams that drive me. Now that I’ve decided what I want to do, the next step is actually doing it. I’ll let you know how that turns out.
This post is part of a series on personal development, career and identity. It’s not about who you want to be when you grow up, but being who you ARE. The key is to find out your true calling and passions and then figuring out how to live it. We all have stories to share, and I want to hear yours. If you’d like to guest blog for the Panda, please submit to floreta@solitarypanda.com.
