Hi Reader,

This week's newsletter has a sponsor! Check out the PS for details. Thanks to Shortform—and thanks to you.

I read two things this week that really struck me. The first was a quote from the beginning of one of the chapters of one of Frank Herbert's Dune Novels:

I read that and had this feeling of recognition, of conviction.

That's exactly what I've done for most of my life! Just emulated people I perceive to be adults, never really understanding why they were doing what they were doing.

It's common to hear someone say they're "adulting" these days, "adulting" in this context meaning taking care of the humdrum day-to-day chores needed to keep a middle-class-ish life on the rails. Being productive. Persisting past weariness or cynicism or ennui. "Getting shit done."

I really like this other way of looking at it. A child is someone who emulates others with little or no understanding, so an adult must instead be someone who thinks and acts for themselves, with purpose and understanding.

(Of course, I'm left with the question, to what degree am I deceiving myself that I understand and am acting with purpose? Not sure what to do with that yet.)

Maybe you see some examples in your own life.

I think I'm probably still, like, 80% child. But I've been practicing, and I think I see some transformation. Some self-awareness where before I had little or none. Some humility at where I've been being selfish. Some self-consciousness at saying I have some humility.

I'm not sure it feels good to be an adult, haha. Certainly not all the time. But it seems to be empowering, and that does feel good.

The second thing that struck me was a quote from The Cloud of Unknowing, by that slippery author Anonymous:

I think I'm afraid to say I'm "into" contemplative life (in the spiritual—or as Anonymous charmingly puts it, "ghostly"—sense). But this felt a lot like a description of coming home to me. Coming home doesn't fix any of the problems of the day-to-day goings-on of life. It just forgets about them. Not in a way that devalues their goodness or importance; just in a way that acknowledges that there seems to be more to life than just those things which contribute to survival. Survival for its own sake seems hopeless and pointless. I don't want to survive to survive. I want to survive to live. But if I never live, if I'm never home, if I'm unable to sitteth in peace with one thing, then... well, what the hell? Because that seems like a pretty good description of hell to me.

I'm not sure how to wrap this up, and I'm out of time for a later pass. I'm imagining some ideal where I'm able to tie together being an adult and coming home, but I actually get almost the opposite sense. Coming home—sitteth...ing in peace with one thing—is childlike, in that it's emulating something I will never understand. But it's also adultlike, in that I'm choosing to set aside my "childish adulting" for a while to try my best to be with—and to love (which is really the same thing)—what is. Whatever that is.

Ghostly yours,

-Michael

P.S.

Accelerate Your Nonfiction Reading ​Shortform has really helped me make progress on my nonfiction reading list. Just yesterday I finished a book that’s been in my desk drawer for over a year. It’s not a replacement for the full experience of reading a book, but it’s a huge help in deciding where to commit my limited time. A few things I like about Shortform: Extensive library covering Philosophy and Spirituality with books like The Immortality Key Great analysis and commentary Links to related works, including counter-perspectives (makes it easy to find other stuff I might be interested in reading) A really simple and accessible interface The first 500 of my subscribers to sign up get a 7-day free trial and 20% OFF an annual subscription! Sign up now!

​