- The Pursuit
- Posts
- The Pursuit, Vol. 1
Intro
Hi friends! Thank you all for following along and wanting to read this newsletter. I was honestly blown away by the sign ups and words of encouragement.
Each newsletter, published on Sunday, will be broken down into three parts: Readings, Conversations, and Breakthroughs. I want to keep each newsletter a short, 5-10 minute read, with any longer thoughts or pieces published to my website and linked at the bottom.
I’m starting this newsletter for two reasons: 1) I want something that my kids or loved ones can look back on much later and 2) I want to document “The Pursuits” of me and my friends, whether we’re searching for happiness, security, financial success, or otherwise.
Readings
Roles
Nervous Conditions, a novel by Zimbabwean author Tsitsi Dangarembga, is the first novel published by a black woman from Zimbabwe in English. It is set in post-colonial Rhodesia. In this excerpt, Maiguru and Lucia, two well-educated wives navigating a very patriarchal society in the 1960s, are fighting:
What was needed in that kitchen was a combination of Maiguru’s detachment and Lucia’s direction. Everybody needed to broaden out a little, to stop and consider the alternatives, but the matter was too intimate. It stung too saltily, too sharply and too agonizingly the sensitive images that the women had of themselves, images that were really no more than reflections. But the women had been taught to recognize these reflections as self and it was frightening now to even begin to think about that, the very facts which set them apart as a group, as women, as a certain kind of person were only myths; frightening to acknowledge that generations of threat and assault and neglect had battered these myths into the extreme, dividing reality they faced, of the Maigurus or the Lucias. So instead of broadening from both positions, instead of an encompassing expansion and a growth, the fear made it necessary to tighten up. Each retreated more resolutely into their roles, pretending while they did that actually they are advancing, had in fact initiated an offensive, when really, for each of them, it was a last solitary, hopeless defense of the security of their illusions.
This passage centers around the identities imposed from without: the roles we play in others’ lives, the descriptors strangers would use after observing us, the self-image each of us holds onto.
If you lean into a role that others have boxed you into—the “mom” of the friend group, the foodie, the gym rat, the jokester—you possess an odd level of agency. After all, people only call you a foodie because you love eating and know all of the best restaurants in this part of town. In a way, you’re choosing to lean into the role with each interaction, and you could just as easily choose to lean out of the role if your interactions change. It’s cool to be known for something. There’s a subtle, addicting power to being perceived enough to be typecast.
This attitude (complacency?) gets dangerous, though, when the roles we play become crutches.
When they are used as excuses to stubbornly cut off an argument without resolution. When they’re used as unhealthy coping mechanisms. When they go from fun “quirky traits” to standards we hold ourselves to.
I think it’s important to distinguish responsibility from identity.
Sometimes, it’s expedient to embrace roles others assign to us or make it easier for others to categorize us. Becoming known as the “grinder” at work, for example, is a fast-track towards respect from your bosses and a possible promotion. Similarly, being the “hardo” president of a student organization commands a certain level or respect, as does being the superstar student in your biology class. However, roles and responsibilities often blur in unhealthy ways, at which point we are serving the roles rather than the other way around.
For example, I think there are diminishing returns to being a demanding boss. At a certain point, one’s “role” becomes table stakes, and upholding that reputation becomes increasingly difficult. In other words, the longer you try to embody a role, the more responsibilities you assume to maintain that image.
As such, I think it’s important to be very explicit about which responsibilities you feel are necessary, and at which point each would become unessential. For example, if your team hits its annual targets a few months early, there’s probably more to be gained by ensuring team morale is high than continuing to make people work in all-out sprints. This example may seem obvious, but critiques are always obvious when it’s not your self-image being considered.
The “grinder” employee isn’t respected because they stay late. They’re respected because their work is high-quality, consistent, and on-time. Sure, that requires some late nights and weekend work, and the willingness to burn the midnight oil is something you’ll be evaluated on when you lack an extensive track record. However, I can guarantee you that your boss would rather have you rest during slow periods than work 18 hours each day as your work product slowly degrades in quality. That doesn’t mean you can never lean back into the “sigma grindset” when you need to. But I think it’s healthier to view our roles more as alter egos than the whole self.
These are trite examples, but the point still stands: Be explicit about the roles and responsibilities you assume, and don’t become a caricature of yourself. It’s okay if they change over time, and knowing the values which made you accept them in the first place will help you navigate that change.
The Scope of Isolation
Open City by Teju Cole is a novel set in Manhattan, New York. Julius, the protagonist, held the apartment building door for his next-door neighbor, Seth, and has just been told that Carla, Seth’s wife, passed away a few months ago.