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The Golden Verses Of The Stoic

Seneca and Epictetus refer to the Golden Verses of Pythagoras , which happens to provide a good framework for developing a daily routine, bookended by morning and evening contemplative practices. Zeno of Citium , who founded Stoicism in 301 BC, expressed his doctrines in notoriously terse arguments and concise maxims.  However, Chrysippus, the third head of the Stoic school, wrote over 700 books fleshing these ideas out and adding complex arguments to support them. 

Capable of Procrastination

I woke up this morning with the insight that I need to feel capable in order to write. This is in regards to periods of days when I can't seem to sit down long enough to write a chapter or even a page or two. For me these periods are a plague. A plague I have been through so many times that the next -- though apparently inevitable -- sparks little terror and more dread.


Capable: being able to perform,

Simple enough definition. Agreeing to that it feels like a second meaning in juxtaposition lays near there as well. Like a street word with its back up and chest out "Well! Are you punk! ARE you Capable?"

To which I claim, yes, with my barbaric (if a bit underwhelmed at this point) yalp. I'm always capable. But, am I? Am I really?  How come I feel that back alley conversation every time? For these and other questions with no answers,  read on. 

What gets me is that I have never actually lacked in my ability to write, or to acquire work -- which makes sense -- since I can write, right? Any writer willing to show and not tell is able to find work as a writer through simple email conversations. I write an email to you I don't want you to enjoy it; I want you to hire me to write the next one and the many after that. I want you to know that a year from now you'll look across the room at my office and still believe it was a damn good idea to hire me. Damn good.

So, yeah I can write. Got all the Cognitive Bias working, all of the Fallacies understood, and all the neuro-emotion signs in my hand, shaking and ready to roll down the felt table mixing up jazz, and searching for hip-hop beats to pace by.  Rhetorical Devices to hand, brace yourself for eleven. 

So what is this crap about "am I capable?" 



Clarity

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