The French Art of Not Trying Too Hard

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So you don’t begin an action because you’ve thought about it long enough to judge that it’s the best of all possible choices, but because indecision is the worst of all evils, and there just isn’t time to examine them all. Seen like this, beginning is the key to completing. It means forgetting about deliberation, hesitation, and calculation and just getting on with the job. Not tomorrow, not later: here and now. Don’t wait for the first of January to make your vows. Alain says: “Making a resolution means nothing; taking up a tool is what’s needed. The thought will follow. Consider that thought cannot guide an action that has not been embarked on.” So you don’t have to renounce all thought when you act, but you must think only inside the action, at its service, and only when necessary. Thought must be as light as possible, it must not trip you up. When it is regulated by action, thought is a powerful tool. Left to itself, and to doubt, it will be your scourge. This is the heart of it: to give the impression that you’re simply going for a walk, easy does it, when in fact you’re walking on a rope 110 floors up. You’re a metaphor, an inspiration, a dream come true. You’re living the dreams that are dormant in those humans down below. To accomplish a dream, you need the lightness of a dream. So be very careful with that first step.

This is not a new idea in France: since Montaigne, philosophers have suggested that a certain je ne sais quoi is the key to a more creative, fulfilling and productive existence. We can see it in their laissez faire parenting, their chic style, their haute cuisine and enviable home cooking - the French barely seem to be trying, yet the results are world famous. So grace is never guaranteed, and the very best, like the rest of us, are reduced just to hoping. But to know this kind of grace, to feel yourself king or queen of the earth, you don’t need to be a champion of anything: soccer, tennis, literature, or music simply serve here to underline the oneness of the experience, of the point of action, when “it takes,” when “it works,” when it’s “just great,” when “it” is impossible to express in words or transcribe with notes, because talking, like composing, means detaching yourself from what you’re experiencing, coming out of it and commenting on it, instead of staying “in it.” The best way of talking about the point of action, then, is through the dot dot dot of an ellipsis . . . When we say "France," France itself is no more than an idea-une certaine idée-which exists in the collective imagination in its condensed form of "Paris," the international symbol of all forms of freedom, the dream of thinkers and artists. This Paris is evoked in the alluringly titled Le Rendez-vous des Étrangers (Where Strangers Meet) by Elsa Triolet, Louis Aragon's muse-a Paris in which the Spanish Picasso, Russian Chagall, and Italian Giacometti all felt at home, and with good reason: It is true that one must put in the work and "pay their dues" so to speak, and there is support of the 10,000 hours theory as a general construct, although some skills require more and others require less. However, this compounds when you add the idea that no matter how many hours you put into learning something, those hours will be essentially wasted if it is a skill to which you are not suited. One example provided is a man who dedicated himself to mastering golf, and after a few years and repeated injuries, gave up, as it was not feasible given his level of physical skill. Often, we suffer by committing ourselves to goals and things to which we are not suited, and finding out own path and the things we want to become experts in often provide far more satisfaction. Strive to be, rather than to do, and the doing (action) will become the natural consequence of flow. Taking the first step: anxiety of all lovers, nightmare of all tightrope walkers. “I wouldn’t be able to walk on that wire if I wasn’t sure before taking the first step that I could do the last . . . It’s very close to religious faith.” Who’s saying this? Philippe Petit. Who’s Philippe Petit? The best way of introducing him would be to make you feel what he does. So let me suggest a little thought experiment. At the end of this paragraph I want you to close your eyes, count to ten, and open them again. Here we go.when it “takes off” it’s like a well-oiled machine that functions to perfection. It’s like when you see someone run one hundred meters in ten seconds. You see the miracle of sentences mounting up, and your mind functions almost outside itself. You become a spectator of yourself. When that happens, I write really easily, and I just can’t stop. And when it works it’s fantastic. They’re really blessed moments. Yes, sometimes, you feel just like the queen of words. It’s extraordinary, it’s paradise. When you believe in what you’re writing it’s an incredible pleasure. You feel like queen of all the earth. What can we learn from Stendhal’s example? Not everyone wants to become a writer. But “never make fun of the art of writing,” Alain says, David Epstein, in The Sports Gene, puts his finger on this detail (which is more than a mere detail), and suggests we consider chess. Chess is different from the violin. Since players are ranked according to a system of international points—“Elo points” (named after the system’s creator)—one can know the exact level of a chess player, and follow their progression precisely. In 2007, psychologists Guillermo Campitelli and Fernand Gobet conducted a study of 104 players of different levels. An average player has around 1,200 Elo points. A master has between 2,200 and 2,400. A grand master has over 2,500. They saw that to reach the threshold of 2,200 points and become a professional took an average of 11,053 hours. A bit more than the 10,000 hours for musicians. Where it gets complicated is that according to individuals, the number of hours they have spent varies from 3,000 to 23,000. Twenty thousand hours’ difference, or twenty years of “purposeful practice”! Some people need to train for eight times longer than others to reach the same level. There are also players who tot up 25,000 hours without reaching master level. And there is no guarantee they will ever reach it. We’ve always been told to think before we speak. But thinking too much and trying to get the right words to describe our thoughts often leaves us paralysed. When I read Alain’s example – “I discover what I want to say when I open my mouth”, I was overjoyed. That is me written all over it

It’s exactly the same with living. There is no preparation for life. So you need to skip the warm-up. Watch your attitude. If you set off without a safety net, proudly, you learn how to live just as you learn how to ride a bike or a horse: by accepting the propulsion offered by life itself. Living like this is constantly surprising . . . OK, but in a good way or in a bad way? Nothing’s ever exactly what you thought it was going to be. You’re never adequately prepared. But the longer you hesitate, the harder it will be. Don’t wait until you’re sure before you act. What’s going to happen in the future? You’ll have to get there to find out. The people who gathered in Montparnasse formed a sort of foreign legion, though the only crime they had on their conscience was that of being far from home, far from their own milieu . . . Paris had handed over this small corner to us . . . This place for the displaced was as Parisian as Notre-Dame and the Eiffel Tower. And when, like a firework, genius erupted out of this small crowd, it was still the Parisian sky that received its reflected glory. Whenever I’m able do something without any effort I start to think it is inherently easy, that anyone should be able to do it. This is called the expert’s illusion. The minute you find yourself on the other side of expertise you realize it is an illusion, and that what is easy for one person isn’t necessarily easy for another. You find the illusion of the expert with literature teachers who think everyone must love reading. Or with math teachers who can’t understand why you don’t understand. This is the only thing they find difficult: understanding that what is easy for them is difficult for others.OK. Place your left foot delicately on the rope. Your weight should remain on your supporting leg, the straight one, that’s still planted on the solid ground of the south tower, safely on the building. Now you have to shift the weight of this leg onto the other one, taking the first step onto the rope. There comes a moment where you have to decide. The first step is a point of no return. When we say “France,” France itself is no more than an idea—une certaine idée—which exists in the collective imagination in its condensed form of “Paris,” the international symbol of all forms of freedom, the dream of thinkers and artists. This Paris is evoked in the alluringly titled Le Rendez-vous des étrangers (Where Strangers Meet) by Elsa Triolet, Louis Aragon’s muse—a Paris in which the Spanish Picasso, Russian Chagall, and Italian Giacometti all felt at home, and with good reason:

As we’ve seen, once you’ve started, you just need to keep going. The stones you’ve laid in a wall give you the shape of the stones you’re going to have to put in next. The more the wall grows, the less room there is for hesitation or chance, the more you are bound by necessity. But how can you dare to start? Laying the first stone may be no big deal, but taking the first step . . . Freedom is dizzying, and the infinity of possible outcomes is a promise of failure, a sky without stars, a metaphysical void studded only with questions: why do this and not that? Why go this way, not that? At least a tightrope walker knows which way he must go. Straight ahead. Sixty meters of cable. The route is laid out. He hesitates not over the direction, but over how to take the first step. No more choices after that. This is not the case in all activities, obviously. The tightrope walker is an extreme case, a metaphor for all the rest. The way you start, in whatever field of activity, contains the seed of future success or failure. It’s not enough just to set out—you have to set out confidently. Whether in horse riding, running, work, or love, the first step dictates whatever comes next. If you set out confidently your chances of achieving your goal are infinitely greater. A bit like in archery: an arrow that is fired cleanly has already hit the bull’s-eye; its flight is already accomplished at the instant it leaves the bow. This is not a matter of predestination: until the moment it’s released, the arrow is going nowhere. Nothing is laid out in advance, but the endpoint of an arrow’s flight is inscribed in its beginning, and for the archer there is a way of beginning the movement that guarantees it will end well. To start out well is to end well, in the same movement. You mustn’t try. You must succeed the first time. And therefore, until you feel the presence of the endpoint, until you feel you’ve reached it, you can’t actually begin. You could, you should, but still you hesitate. I rejected the suffering that comes from pursuing a path to which one is not suited. Effort against the grain is exhausting. It’s a sign of courage and of abnegation, but above all it’s a sign of self-deprivation. A negative virtue is not without value, but in the end someone who doesn’t like what they do will never go as far as someone who enjoys it. The former will do everything on sufferance; the latter will do it with joy, including suffering if necessary. A characteristic of a good sledge dog is that he enjoys pulling a weight for hundreds of kilometers. You don’t have to push him to do it. Eric Morris, a specialist in these matters, explains that to train sledge dogs to go very long distances, as in the Iditarod, known among enthusiasts as the “last great race on Earth” (over 1,500 kilometers through the cold, long nights of Alaska), there’s no point in using food as a reward. Negative reinforcement, a training technique that consists not in giving a reward but in taking away a punishment, doesn’t work either. “To go that distance, it’s like a bird dog sniffing down a pheasant . . . it has to be the one thing in their life that brings them the greatest amount of pleasure. They have to have the innate desire to pull [the sledge] . . . and you will find varying degrees of that in different dogs.” Understanding can't be focused. Distraction can make the work easier, it builds momentum. Distraction helps you to not think about what you are doing, so you are content with doing it. There are two ways to clean a burnt pan: taking considerable time and effort to scrub it, or to simply let it soak and return to it later. The first is based on effort, and the second on ease. Postponing action and letting things look after themselves is a win-win. When you're a hammer, everything looks like a nail. Hyper specialization can cause a sort of blindness to the broader picture of what is, based on the view we have of the world and how we operate within it. Don't think about solutions, think about the problem as if the problem were a person, let it speak for itself. Do not confuse preparation with practice. Excessive practice makes you stale.Here is an except that is reiterated by many of those who more through the world with understanding: To be alive is to be part of the narrative of experience, to be engaged with the world. We are always caught up in the action. So we don’t have to begin, we just have to continue. No need for big decisions. To explain what he meant, Alain took the example he knew best—writing. He quoted Stendhal, who, by his own admission, wasted ten years of his life waiting for inspiration: Loved this book. It is insanely thought provoking and far more philosophical than I first thought. Some of the stories sort of go on too long, but there is incredible depth and coherence in the chapters themselves and throughout the chapters. Originally published in French as Facile: L’art français de réussir sans forcer by Éditions Michel Lafon, Neuilly-sur-Seine. Do without thinking. Do not focus on the goal, on the aim, simply release the arrow, as it knows where to go. Be satisfied with being, and allow the work to come. The more you focus on something, the more you can cause yourself to make mistakes. When you think, you are focusing, you are judging, and therefore are thinking and not acting. When thinking, you are the antithesis of acting, and therefore, when firing an arrow can never hit a target. Express your pride through your posture, Pretend to be proud. Start by miming. "Man is formed through struggle, his true pleasures must be won, must be served. He must give before he receives. That is the law." (alain). Certain goals can only be achieved if we do not aim at them.