I Will Not Die

 Email this article to a friend

pro·pen·si·ty
1. a natural inclination or tendency.
2. Obsolete. favorable disposition or partiality.

We all want to grow. Of that, I doubt there could be any reasonable disagreement. By grow, I mean to advance in life, to gain wealth, status, freedom, or a thousand other things unique to a thousand other people. But the very same thing that causes each of us to want to grow should indicate a certain futility in our efforts. By that I mean what happens when we look around at our surroundings and get the urge to get new ones. It’s the impetus to move on. The impression we get that tells us “not here” but “there” gets our feet moving to head on off to someplace else. But even a child knows that when we get to where we plan on going, there’s one thing for certain that we’ll do the moment we get there: we’ll have another look around.

And I’m okay with that. In fact, I’m going to suggest that the unfulfilled promises that punctuate our path to human growth are as meaningful as the next goal we go after. But before I go much further, what is the nature of human growth?

Human growth has both a good side, and a bad one. It is at the same time both blessed and damned. Human growth is good when it is used as a way to define the class character of one thing or another. There’s something wholly virtuous about striving for more. There’s something virtuous about extending oneself beyond one’s natural course. There’s something virtuous about plain old kicking ass.

But human growth has a bad side too. The gluttonous conquer reminds us of the cost of growth because all growth must have some cost. In the process of rolling the ball up the hill we sometimes crush the roses in our way. Where that cost becomes too high depends on each individual’s tolerance of gluttony. This is not an exaggeration. In fact, it’s the seed in the center of the fruit of growth. It’s what is laid bare when we peek deeper than the instantaneous litmus test, the gut check, that validates our request to move forward with our plans to achieve. It quantifies our ambitions.

So what is natural? For that, we turn to Africa.

Way back in our early human history, right when our first ancestors stared across the plains that surrounded the jungles in which we evolved, they must have been thinking about something grand. They must have had some reason to want to grow out and away. They must have had an impetus that drew them from the shade out into the sun. Those curious furrowed brows atop the steady eyes that stared long off into the grass relaxed and gave way. Then our ancestors made a decision. So they set off.

That.

That is our human propensity.

But that original human act of desertion has a quality to it that lacks any and all morality. That original act predated morality. It was still mere animal instinct. A lion eating its cub sheds no tears. The erupting volcano under the sea, far off someplace in the wilderness of the Pacific has no value. But the one that rocked Pompeii is indecipherably tragic. We are aghast when we imagine the children becoming ash. But how does human morality fetter human growth?

Morality places human growth in chains because it forces all of us to observe a cease-fire while we consume the natural instinct that is our ammunition to proceed. We are now, not the animals we once were. Morality is the primary class character that governs our exit from the adolescence of the animal kingdom. We are now better than they are. As a rule, we do not eat our cubs. Morality is our measure of the consequences.

All forms of human growth incur a cost. This is not debatable. You might think it is, but no, it is not. The basic, and undeniable premise is that all forms of human growth require time. As a result, even the most private forms of human growth require attention to competition. Growth that is uninvolved with competition is a flagrant impossibility. All forms of competition have consequences, and the measure of those consequences is acknowledged through our morality. Unfettered human growth is unfettered competition, two animals fighting for supremacy.

As a result, we live out our lives trying at the same time to both unleash the natural propensity to grow and to capture and relax it so as to lessen the consequences. That is the more complete version of human growth. It is both the conservative instruction to slow down and the liberal instruction to intervene at the same time. Most people end up falling somewhere in the middle.

But there is one more crucial component to human growth. It is what I consider to be why most people fail to grow. It is this:

The passage of time does not equal human growth or achievement.

The best example of this is when we take human growth at its most literal. As children, we gain an expectation to become taller in the coming months and years. We mark our bedposts, mark our walls, we brag to aunts and uncles about our height and about our age. In reality, there is nothing to brag about. This form of human growth is a natural consequence of life and we are the fortunate passengers of nature’s grand achievement that makes us each taller, makes us each older every year. And while I foresee no necessarily detractive interpretations of this, one thing is for certain: we are stamped with an expectation that we own as a personal achievement.

For this, I think there are consequences. Not necessarily bad ones, but ones that have the capacity to inhibit all the ways we can grow that have nothing to do with how quickly we can expect to reach the cookie jar.

For most people, they think they are growing but they are not. Not in the way that makes us smile at a virtue. Instead, they are merely a passenger of nature, and they mistake the natural movement of their lives as one of growth and achievement, but they are wrong. All natural growth in this world is going to happen whether we strive to out step the pace or not. In other words, we can always do nothing and will always be doing something.

Most people recognize that rapid advancement in a career is difficult. If you have little experience in your field, it’s quite common to aspire to the notion of “paying one’s dues.” In other words, you have to wait for the 3-5 years so that your resume can say 3-5 years. So they work in their career knowing that simply by showing up everyday, they are growing because they are building the credentials that will enable them to advance. But I want to challenge that person by asking, “are you really growing?” I say that that form of growth, and the thousands just like it, are no more than natural consequences. I say that “paying one’s dues” is waiting until next year so you can tell your aunt you are now “five.”

If you really want to grow, you have to test your litmus, acknowledge the limitations of what consequences you are willing to accept, and recognize that merely going with the flow is the greatest illusion stopping you from becoming great.

It’s time to leave the jungle friends.

If you enjoyed this, you can join the rss feed and stay updated on new material. If you don't know what rss feeds are, this article explains them.

Dereck :: Aug.23.2008 :: Growth :: 18 Comments »

Trackback this post | Feed on Comments to this post