Beat the Band
Whenever I do one of my wonton-soup-and-movie nights, I like to get a stack of fortune cookies to munch on whilst I enjoy my flick.
And I make sure to read every single fortune in the pile—both for entertainment as well as instruction because good advice can come from anywhere.
The other day I found an old fortune on my kitchen table that read “we are taught by every person we meet.”
The concept is not new, of course. I’ve seen a couple of variants on Instagram, including one attributed to John C. Maxwell that says, “each person we meet has the potential to teach us something.”
The important word here is “potential” because we can’t learn a lesson unless we are willing to receive it.
This can be quite challenging when we run across the seemingly endless supply of dopes, dickheads, liars and losers that pollute our planet.
I’ve taken an interest in stoicism recently and there’s a quote from Marcus Aurelius that addresses this very issue.
“When you wake up in the morning,” he said, “tell yourself: the people I deal with today will be meddling, ungrateful, arrogant, dishonest, jealous, and surly.”
He goes on to say that “no one can implicate me in ugliness,” and that to feel anger at someone “is to turn you back on him.”
Marcus Aurelius explores some noble ideas, although I think there comes a point when people will use you for a doormat if you let them.
I don’t know who said, “do no harm, but take no shit,” but it’s got a nice ring to it.
And this leads me in a roundabout way to the concept of bandwidth—not the internet connection kind, but the emotional variety.
The stoics like to say “Memento mori”—"Remember you will die,” which may sound morbid, but it forces you to think about how much of your precious time and energy do you want to devote to bad times and bad people.
The Broken Clock
It pains me to say this, but one of the greatest descriptions I’ve heard on bandwidth comes from Joe Rogan, the UFC commentator and podcaster who traffics in conspiracy theories and rightwing propaganda--which are pretty the same thing, come to think of it.
Last month he was corrected on air after mocking Joe Biden for saying America lost the Revolutionary War because “we didn’t have enough airports.”
One problem: Biden was quoting Donald Trump, and after being alerted to his outrageous mistake, Rogan responded by saying “oh, ok, so he fucked up.”
And yet this same bloviating yin-yang had an incredibly insightful comment about emotional bandwidth.
“I don't spend time wondering why I hate things or hating things or hating on someone or being jealous,” he said. “You...have 100 units of bandwidth in your mind, so that means there's 100 units that you can spend on things you care about, or you could let your mind be occupied with some stupid fucking Twitter feud that you're in with some idiot you don't even know.”
You can spend 30% of your mind bandwidth on this, Rogan said, “then you only have 70% for the things you love.”
“Then maybe you're involved in some fucking relationship with someone who's an idiot,” he continued, “and you're arguing back and forth with them, well, there's another 30% that's gone now you got you have 40% left. You have 40% for the things you love instead of 100%.”
Yes, indeed, so when I worry about the future or fume over the latest ass-clown to invade my personal space, I’m diverting my mind from the things that are really important.
And I confess that every other week I come to this blog and talk about the latest concept, quote or technique I’ve discovered and how it’s going to completely change my life.
I’m writing this at a rather difficult time. I’m allowing my shadow self to run wild with all sorts of anger and resentment. It seems that, once again, my subconscious mind heard all my lofty New Year’s resolutions and roared, “oh, hell, no!”
I’m hoping this rage-fest is just a detour on my journey to be a better human being. And I’m going to add the bandwidth concept to my ever-growing list of mental health techniques.
I never met Joe Rogan and I’d very much like to keep it that way, but I am grateful for this lesson he taught me about preserving my happiness.
And now I’ve got this sudden urge for wonton soup.
Comments
I like your approach. Wait until you're home with a cup of coffee and don't give the news more than 45 minutes of your time.
Sounds like you've got this bandwidth thing figured out.
Take care.