Franz von Stuck: Verwundete Amazone [Wounded Amazon] (1905)

" … if only we were clever enough to insist upon those more infinite terms of engagement."

Success has ten thousand identities, from the simplest-minded to the sublime. The simplest-minded achievements are those where some winner takes all, where a student earns straight As, and the quarterhorse takes the crown. The more nuanced successes are more common, ones where criteria seem ambiguous and some higher-order judgment appears to be required to even coherently aspire. A mentor of mine reminded me to begin every critique by appreciating that something even appeared on the page, for that alone might qualify as a miracle. Few experiences can be appropriately characterized as total losses; even last place still finishes a race. A firm belief in the possibility of absolute success was never required to enter a race. Once the odds turn against a competitor, it rarely makes much sense to insist upon belief in an unlikely ultimate victory. Choose your success criteria carefully.

It matters which game you're playing. When I played racquetball, I invented a form of the game called Zen Racquetball. Both competitors began each game with a perfect score, zero to zero. The game would go downhill as each player accumulated imperfections until the one with the most would be declared the winner. I was demonstrating the hostility I feel when engaging in zero-sum competitions. I'd rather the other guy win if someone must lose for the game to end. I have broad shoulders, and it's just a matter of ego whether winning under such terrible presumptions matters. I contend it doesn't. What matters most might be the energy cooperation produces, a different kind than competition ever encourages.

Engagement insists upon Framing skill in defining the context to enhance performance rather than punish. I much prefer a round of some infinite game played to continue play than any finite game where the purpose always seems to be to cease playing. The purpose of professional football appears to be to stop playing, for everything done on the field focuses upon expending that odd hour before dispersing. The plays never long delay the inevitable. The final quarter almost always involves unsuccessful shenanigans intended to postpone that inevitable. Not one game in the sport's history didn't ultimately end on time, even those delayed by inclement weather, for a football hour is immutable. Any tie-breaking after the hour occurs securely out of that hour in an imaginary time zone labeled Overtime. In the end, whoever succeeds, both teams successfully spend another hour. To what end?

Ten thousand explanations might accompany any engagement, so choose your success criteria carefully. The purpose of few activities involves battering one's ego, so attend to a story that might leave everyone's intact. Not everything's properly characterized as a battle to the death, and opponents rarely require even metaphorical vanquishing. Most could comfortably coexist if only the combatants could imagine their engagement differently. Even when the apparent opponent seems intractable, powerful, and better resourced, they do not require merely rolling over to their power. You could be up to something transcendent to the apparent engagement, a competition of a wholly different order. You might be learning something for the next round or launching a spirited defense against your self-deprecation. They might be serious while you engage for practice, looking forward to futures when the terms of engagement might change.

Perhaps the best way to defeat oneself involves insisting upon impossible conditions. There are few David and Goliath parings where David plays the favorite. The likely result is usually the more obvious, so when the odds seem long, they probably are. Wager accordingly. There's little nobility in trying to show anybody who you are by repeatedly betting against the odds. Who will you be after that apparent defeat? Who might you become after you've so obviously failed? From where might your self-respect come after you've lost the championship? These more common forms of success, the ones otherwise indistinguishable from failure, might be the most valuable. A shining trophy might stand on the mantle forever, but only the successfully losing competitor understands how that encounter fits into larger life patterns. We could live in a Win/Win world if only we were clever enough to insist upon those more infinite terms of engagement.

©2024 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #Grace, #PureSchmaltz