Publish and Perish, part 26: Axes of Praxis

[Context: read the previous part or start at the beginning. TW: bad amateur fiction!]

After an amicable email exchange in which Gerald and Cissy and Hector reluctantly agreed to stop meeting as a group — Hector was surprised by Gerald’s confession, but was amenable to the adjustment — Gerald was once again sitting only with Morris in the Incredible Shrinking Theater.

They discussed the ongoing changes in therapy format, and settled on a plan: Morris would look for other group-session opportunities for Gerald, but, for now, they would do all of their meetings one-on-one.

Then it was time for the real work to resume.

“So,” said Morris, “Can you summarize where we left off last time, and any additional thoughts you’ve had since then?”

Gerald’s brain had been working overtime on this, so he knew what he wanted to say.

“Yeah. Last time we talked about axes of motivation. There were two different axes that came up. One axis ranged from doing something for personal fulfillment to doing it to solve a problem of general importance. And the other axis went from serving the people in one’s inner circle to serving those in one’s extended network.”

“Good!” said Morris. “That’s what I took away from that session too.”

“I’ve since started calling each axis an Axis of Praxis,” Gerald continued. “Because that’s easier to say than ‘axis of motivation’, and because an axis represents a practical choice. Where along this axis do I want to live? Where should I position myself? Which seems like a really hard question, especially when you’re trying to find solutions for both axes simultaneously.”

Gerald stood up and addressed the empty seats surrounding the stage. “It’s like a really hard math problem, with my life hanging in the balance!” he screeched. Then, more quietly, to Morris: “Sorry — this place brings out the drama in me, evidently.”

“It’s OK,” said Morris. “Let it out.”

Gerald sat back down nonetheless.

“Anyway,” he resumed, “I recently brought up some of this stuff with a colleague, Herb Stevens; I’m not sure if you know him…”

“Oh, sure, Herb is great!” Morris offered.

“Yeah, isn’t he great?” Gerald concurred. “Anyway, I thought Herb, being so smart and humble and everything, might have some relevant ideas. And he did, of course, but … the main thing I took away from that conversation was that there was at least one additional axis: an axis of trying to plan and direct one’s legacy versus letting it evolve organically. And since then, whenever I’ve tried to think about this stuff, I just start thinking of more and more axes, and I get overwhelmed and depressed.”

Gerald got up, walked to the on-stage flip chart, and wrote:

inner circle — outer circle

fun — importance

planned legacy — unplanned legacy

self — others

logic — emotions

seek pleasure — avoid guilt

As a small joke to himself, he added classical — pop at the bottom, then crossed it off.

Gerald paused and capped the marker. “There have been others, too,” he said. “Anyway, you get the idea. Just one friggin’ axis after another — a tangle of irreconcilable opposites.” He sighed. “I know I’m feeling depressed and giving this an extra-negative spin at the moment — but I don’t think I’m completely wrong, either.”

Morris looked sympathetic. “Gerald,” he said, “I admire your clarity of thought on this. And, as you did last time, you are noticing some absolutely foundational and formidable challenges, and noticing that there may not be a lot of easy solutions.” He lowered his voice a bit. “But I promise you that we will find solutions of some kind! And I have some initial suggestions… But before we get to those, I’d like you to take this week to do your own brainstorming, uninfluenced by me, about finding a path forward. Would that be OK?”

“Yes, I can do that,” Gerald said.

“Great,” said Morris. “Don’t try to come up with a unified theory of everything. Just think about possible strategies for getting started. What might that first step look like?”

They discussed whether a reading assignment would be helpful as a catalyst for new thinking. Gerald admitted that, at present, he wasn’t inclined to start a new book, but he wrote down Morris’s suggestions in case he changed his mind.

And then, as he left the theater and unlocked his bike and started the ride home, he had a getting-started idea — a strange idea, but one that might be “just crazy enough to work,” as certain movie characters would say. His mood lightened.

Maybe he could harvest some lessons from another setting where seemingly irreconcilable demands threatened to bring progress to a halt. A setting where both sides of many issues often seemed compelling, or at least inflexible. A setting where robust, prolonged arguments didn’t necessarily lead to any particular actions. A setting where smart people struggled to make decisions of any kind and often seemed dysfunctional. A setting like the Faculty Senate!

Gerald himself was unfamiliar with the inner workings of the Faculty Senate. He needed a guide who could explain them to him — someone who had confronted the contradictions of this challenging environment and who had somehow forced some progress to be made.

Fortunately, he knew just such a person.

[Update: the story continues with part 27.]