This is Optimal Living Daily Episode 3222, Be Dignified as a Rule by David Kane of Raptitude.com, and I'm Justin Mollick, the guy reading to you every single day of the year with permission from the authors. And with that, let's get right to you on other posts and start optimizing your life. Be Dignified as a Rule by David Kane of Raptitude.com. Much of what you've heard on this blog has been written in my pajama pants, writing directly follows meditation in my morning routine, so I've often gone right from the cushion to the coffee pot to the desk.
Occasionally, life would remind me that there are practical reasons to put on socially acceptable pants before beginning the workday. Someone could knock on the door, for example, but for the most part, it seemed like an unnecessary formality that only added friction to the getting-to-work process. Today, I do get properly dressed before going to my desk because it's simply more conducive to productivity. Changing into leaving the house clothes gives me a going-to-work feeling, which is the kind of feeling you want whenever you're going to work, even if your office is just across the hall.
Recently, I noticed that this effect is stronger the better I dress. Jeans in a pullover are better than PJs in a hoodie. Proper slacks and a button-up shirt are even better. I'm sure an Edwardian waistcoat and tie would generate even stronger feeling of being a dignified writer getting to work.
I thought it was interesting that this feeling of dignity often follows when you discover a better way to do a thing. Decent pants don't just inspire a productive mentality, they also elevate the writer's self-respect. Dusting a shelf after clearing it entirely rather than by shuffling its contents around improves the quality of the dusting, but also just feels more dignified. Dutifully assembling your tools and ingredients before cooking, a practice known as mise en place, improves the food, but also dignifies the cooking process, as well as the person doing it because you're no longer scrambling like Ricky Ricardo to find the right spices while your rice boils over.
It only recently occurred to me that it actually works the other way around. Dignity doesn't follow effectiveness as much as effectiveness follows dignity. We're more engaged while reading from a beautiful hardcover than from a computer printout, or in a lamplit armchair rather than a plastic patio chair. Wine tastes better out of a spotless wine glass than from a paper cup.
Perhaps we should have dignity foremost in mind whenever we do anything because it's an intuitive sense we all have, and it points the way to a thing done well. Now it might sound like I'm equating my own aesthetic preferences to dignity. I like lamps and armchairs and wine, maybe you don't. Well, if you're dignified, it depends on the person, but we can always sense our own dignity or lack thereof in how we do a thing, even when nobody else is there to see it.
Dignified doing has always spoken to me, although I haven't known what to call it. I once wrote a post on Raptitude's Patreon feed specifically about the dignity of looking up words in a real paper dictionary, or rather the corrosive indignity of using an ad riddled online one that you don't even own. They're dignified and undignified ways to do everything. You might have noticed a subtle difference in how it feels to gently push a jar onto a crowded fridge shelf, forcing the other jars back into the sides, and how much better it feels to make a space intentionally and then put the jar in it.
A little more intentionality, a lot more dignity. Technology tends to pull us away from this way of being, eroding dignity in the quest for speed, variety, or convenience. I find it more dignified, for example, to listen to music by playing a single album rather than an AI-generated playlist. Instead of an infinite stream of algorithmically similar songs, you get a coherent work as its artists intended.
I have no vinyl collection, but anyone who does knows there's something spiritually superior about setting an LP onto a turntable rather than thumbing over to the same album on Spotify's sound fidelity aside. I'm sure some proportion of our modern malaise comes from this sort of technology-induced dignity loss. The more our tools automate once-manual actions, and the more we access them all through the same lifeless touchscreen, the less intentionality and resolve there is behind whatever we're doing. Maybe some friction and formality is a good thing because it keeps our values in charge of the action, leaving less to momentum.
Ultimately, it's a choice though, and the dignified way is there whenever you look for it. I have a folding steamer basket I use almost daily. For a while, one of the pedals would come off if you held the thing sideways, so I made sure to handle it gingerly and keep it level. Finally, I did the dignified thing.
I got out of flathead screwdriver, sat down at the table, and carefully rebent the metal flap that held a loose pedal in place. Now it stays. The steaming of vegetables is a little easier, of course, but the greater gain was in becoming the person who fixed the thing that needs fixing, and no longer the person oppressed by his faulty steamer basket. Dignity isn't only a matter of the tools, clothing, or the method with which you do a thing.
It's in the way of doing the earnestness, the uprightness, the respect for the task. And it's doer. I'm endlessly inspired by a particular entry in Marcus Aurelius's journal in which he admonishes himself to do everything this way, to do what comes to hand with a correct and natural dignity, and to regard this way of being as the only thing the gods require of him. There have been periods lasting hours, or sometimes days, when I've settled into the dignified groove of doing one thing at a time with undivided intention, devoting the whole self to each task, rather than applying just enough of the self to deal with it.
The sensation of being in this groove is like a calm version of surfing. You've caught a certain exhilarating momentum. You have to make frequent, intuitive adjustments to maintain it, and the rolling C still surrounds you. But there's no thought whatsoever of wanting to be anywhere else.
You just listened to the post titled Be Dignified as a Rule by David Kane of Raptitude.com, and I'll be right back with my commentary. Thank you to David. Couldn't help but laugh at the pajama pants comment and going straight from meditation to coffee to work. Well, my morning routine is slightly different, but yeah, I put this episode together in my pajama pants.
It's true. I wonder if you're in a similar boat since working from home has become more and more common these days. It does take me way back to a post I narrated by Kristen Wong where she mentioned something similar. I didn't change back then, but maybe hearing it again now will have an effect.
Probably one of my hardest type of outbreaks since pajamas are so comfortable, but a tough one to argue with. And I know I've said it on this show before. Comfort is not the goal we need discomfort to grow. I think it's easy to relate to examples like shoving things in the fridge instead of adjusting as necessary and intentionally placing the item.
It's a slight difference, probably not even a time difference, but the feeling could be completely different for the better. This doesn't come up a lot on this show, so I appreciated this one from David. Hopefully you did too. I'm wishing you a great rest of your day.
I dignified one with that. Thank you for being here and listening every day. It means a lot. And I'll see you here again tomorrow where your optimal life.