Post #34: Thank You for the First Month!

3 June 2023

One of Viktor Frankl’s favorite quotations and the guiding principle of his logotherapy was Nietzsche’s dictum that if someone is sure of his why in life, he can put up with almost any how. The continuation of an undertaking such as this site, untimely as it is in many ways (see Post #13 and another one I will post soon: “Late Adopter”), may turn, similarly, not so much on the what or the how as on the why of the project. Why, then, all this activity of the past month?

Perhaps the first thing to be said is that it’s hardly a matter of the past month only. When Picasso was older and very famous, he once doodled on a napkin at a Paris café, then made ready to throw it out when someone at a neighboring table asked whether he could keep it. “Ten thousand dollars,” said Picasso. The neighbor was appalled, naturally, and protested that it had taken barely two minutes to do. “Not so,” Picasso answered, “it took me seventy years.” (Not that I am Picasso at seventy, or wish to be.)

The starting point for my “blog”—if that is the right word (an ugly one whichever way one turns it) for a collection of meditations that has more in common with Marcus Aurelius and Montaigne than with current trends in writing—was no great pedagogical zeal, or any big urge to make a name for myself, but the simple question what would happen if I started putting some Buddhisty reflections on line regularly. Would I be able to produce new materials regularly and easily enough to keep it going? Would it turn out a spur to creativity and joy or a burdensome chore? And if I could produce such texts with relative facility (which turned out to be the case, thanks be to Buddha), would there be any interest in what I had to share? (I should state for the record that I take no great credit for the times when my writing flows well; it is not false modesty but experience speaking when I say that these times of ready writing are periods of grace about which one should feel grateful, not prideful.)

But what of the interest shown by others, a much more slippery eel to pin down? What kind of expectation should one bring to this issue, what points of comparison, what scales? It was clear from the first that my writing was quite unsuitable for attracting great crowds, and that the decision to keep producing and posting my texts could not turn on a simple head-count, which by any of the prevailing online standards was always bound to remain modest, if not disappointing. No, quantity could not be the measure here, it would need to be the quality of engagement, and there is a case to be made that even a single serious reader who appreciates the writing and benefits from the ideas in some way or other should be good enough. And so it is: my thanks and commendations go out to anyone who has read any of the texts in that spirit, helping to keep alive a tradition of letters that is sorely beset by troubles and neglect on all sides.

Beyond that idealistic baseline, to which I subscribe but which does not always protect me from pangs of vainglory, I take heart from two raw figures, though they are only very approximate measures for what I really care about. The first is that the average stay on the site stands at almost fifteen minutes, meaning that many visitors must be spending considerably more time, since some will surely click in and out; the second, that we have just crossed the line of 10,000 minutes spent on the site in total. There can be no doubt: serious reading is getting done here, and individual reactions that reach me now and then—very encouraging so far—remind me regularly that although I too am not immune to the siren-songs of wider popularity and might therefore be tempted to judge my “success” by the numbers, I am very lucky in how well things have been going, on a relatively small but precious scale. The bonfire of the vanities is not where I want to be, but where the flickering flame keeps burning in the night, as I have said many times already. (I will quit when the themes start repeating too much.)

The writing itself, I am aware, has been an impediment to quite a few, and that’s something I regret, since language should connect not separate. Alas, I don’t think it can be helped without compromising an important part of my purpose—the why that holds it all together—which is not just to share the substance of my reflections, but also to do so in particular manner that keeps alive an art-form that is under much pressure, perhaps to the point of being threatened with extinction. Like classical music and many an antediluvian animal species, it may hold on in some niches, even with a few showy success stories here and there, but its overall future is far from assured. To get more concrete, if I were to simplify the perhaps somewhat overwrought structure of my sentences, or the vocabulary, not only would the writing cease to feel natural on my end, and probably stop flowing freely, but an important part of my intention would be compromised, which is not to show off (though surely we all enjoy showing what we can do), but to celebrate and pay homage to the possibilities of a language that I love above all others (and that is not my first, but my second, hence a chosen passion, not a given one). And the particular flexibility and richness of the English idiom, especially when it comes to vocabulary—thesaurus indeed—happens to be the glory of the language as I see it.

More good friends and former students have made their way to the site than could be fit into most lecture halls or dining rooms, or than I could give adequate time if they all showed up to a physical gathering. I thank them especially for their interest, affection, and loyalty over the years. But strangers too, from all parts of the globe, seem to have found something of interest here, not in large numbers, but enough to make me feel that what I am doing matters in its little way. I will be happy to keep going if you keep coming! As Seneca writes in the sixth of his Letters, a great part of his pleasure in learning consisted in discovering something new that he could share with others; however beneficial it might be, if any part of wisdom or insight were ever given to him on condition that he must not pass it along to anyone else, it would cease to please him altogether and he would decline the offer. (It goes well with what I quoted in Post #6 about the great benefits of giving and sharing.)

Who knows what the future may bring. I have made it a habit not to look too far ahead; there is too much uncertainty to make such guesses meaningful unless they are of a solidly practical nature, such as taking out insurance or contributing to a pension plan, say. What I can say with perfect sincerity is that I expect no great jumps in traffic on the site, and that not much depends on such movements from my perspective. That said, we all like to feel important, validated, and appreciated, and I am no different. So it would please me, of course, if my early readers saw fit to come back for more occasionally, or if they told others about anything of value they found here. Fancier strategies for promoting the site are not in preparation.

Last not least, my special thanks goes to my buddy and “consigliere” Federico, without whose unwavering help and encouragement so much might never have happened, and to Yangki, equally steadfast in her support, who has done much to spread the word.