Enter Voluntarily

28: Poverty practice, the arena, and reminding yourself what you're made of

A Line to Live By

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Remind yourself who you are

The arena

Many of us know this quote, or at least we think we do. You’ve seen it on a poster, or in a locker room. But linger on it for a little longer…

The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again

Roosevelt isn’t concerned with winners. He values those in the fight, those with the courage to continue when the outcome is uncertain. The only failure he recognizes is exiting the arena.

Everyone has been in the arena at some point. You may have walked in on your own accord, or been thrown in. You’ve been scared and done it anyway. You’ve been tested and come through. You know who shows up when things get hard. You’ve looked at that person in the mirror before.

Daily life can take you out of the arena if you let it. You become competent at your job, your habits are solid, bills get paid. The tracks of routine become a groove, but grooves eventually become a rut. When nothing demands everything of you, you begin to wonder if you still have what it takes.

You need to remind yourself that you still got it, you’re just as bad as you used to be, and those moments of trial that have found you from time to time in the past are really just decisions you have the power to make at will.

The cost of comfort

There’s a phenomenon that occurs as you become more of who you want to be. You start out as a skinny broke kid, or whatever other archetypal equivalent. You’re tough, you’re resilient, you don’t have anything to lose. You work your ass off.

All of a sudden, you find some success. You make some money, put some meat on your bones, and grow a solid reputation. But now, there’s a possibility for you to lose what you’ve worked hard to gain.

In your mind, the priority becomes not losing what you’ve gained instead of trusting the scrappy, intelligent mind that got you there in the first place. You continue in the tracks that got you from average to good, instead of believing that you have the intelligence and skill to evolve, to mature from good to great.

You stop trusting yourself, you start listening to the professionals, and all of a sudden you’re starting to ask yourself if that little scrappy kid is still in there somewhere. If you still have the fight in you to scrap and claw when you need to.

The answer is of course you do. But if you don’t use it, you lose it. If you don’t keep that muscle in shape, it withers away. You have to show yourself, in any number of ways, that you can tap into that well whenever you need to.

The good news is, you don’t have to wait for life to throw you into the deep end. You can venture out of the harbor on your own.

Enter voluntarily

When you’re young, it’s easy to challenge yourself. You can sign up for sports, enroll in advanced classes, find creative opportunities, the options are everywhere. Your entire job is to push yourself and learn.

When you grow up, things get more complicated. Should you sign up for a rec league, or should you pick up an extra shift at work? Should you use that extra money to take a risk on yourself, or should you put it aside for a rainy day?

Robert Greene has a quote:

“Understand this: The world wants to assign you a role in life. And once you accept that role, you are doomed”

While it might not always be possible to enter a competition, or risk thousands of dollars on an idea, it is always possible to put yourself into the arena.

Tim Ferris, serial entrepreneur, investor, writer, and lifestyle guru, doesn’t overcomplicate it. He does what he calls “Poverty Practice”, inspired by Seneca. The practice involves spending several days in a simulated poverty – wearing old clothes, eating only cheap simple foods, and sleeping on the ground. He engages in this practice to reduce his fear of losing all of the success he’s built, to show that if things got much worse, he’d still be okay.

You should create your own form of Poverty Practice. Put yourself in the arena. Don’t let your life be like the Hunger Games, waiting for your name to be selected from the hat. Take the Gladiator approach, and volunteer yourself for the arena.

It can take on many forms. It should be something that shows you: I can be hungry, tired, bored, and uncomfortable. I can face difficult emotions, and I don’t need as much as I think.

Here are some of our favorites:

Fasting: We like to do three days. Day one gives you hunger, day two gives you boredom, day three gives you resilience. By the end of it, you have a new appreciation for the delights of food and nutrition. You also see that if you got stranded for a few days, you’d be just fine.

Extended Wilderness Trips: A couple nights is good, a week is great. Sleeping on the ground, eating simply, battling the elements. Having one job: to get from point A to point B. And facing the consequences of your successes (or failures).

Solo Travel: Even a day trip can make a big difference here. We recommend: doing the planning at home. Research your travel arrangements, some spots you may want to hit, the weather, etc. But once you’re on the road, fly blind. Figure it out as you go. You might make a couple wrong turns, end up eating at a hole in the wall, or staying in a run down place. You’ll find that everything turns out fine, and the misadventures end up being the fun ones.

The activity you choose doesn’t matter so much as what you get out of it. It’s not something that is supposed to make for a good post on social media – it’s something that should strike chords deep within you. Something that by the end you think “That kinda sucked, but I definitely want to do it again”.

Get back in

Roosevelt’s man in the arena isn’t undefeated. His face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; he’s been hit and he’s come up short.

That’s you. Not the comfortable, competent, coasting version. The one who puts themself to the test, even when the night is cold or the foe is formidable.

Don’t aim for perfection. Aim for the courage to stay in the fight, and the strength to keep going.

The arena doesn’t always come to you. Sometimes you have to walk back in on your own terms. So get back in. You know what happens when you do.

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