“That which you desire, controls you.”

“Egon, somehow this reminds me of the time you tried to drill a hole in your head. Do you remember that?” – Ghostbusters

See, a bottle of wine costs $15.  Plus the crap I buy on Amazon.

That which you desire, controls you.

Let’s look at common examples:

• Money
• Power
• Respect
• Sex
• Great Parking Spaces at Denny’s
• Friendship
• Water in the Sahara Desert
• “Buy One Get One Free” Coupons for Chocolate Dipped Ice Cream Cones at Dairy Queen®
• Booze
• Glittery Sunglasses in the Shape of Stars

Can’t you feel their magnetic pull?

When we see these desires, we see those who are driven by them and are instinctively repulsed.  An example:  when The Mrs. and I were newly married, we had an idea for a book – a humorous parody of the Clinton administration.  Its title?  An Intern’s Guide to the White House.  I thought it was funny, and maybe we even still have a copy sitting around somewhere.  If so, I’ll post it sometime – we got hooked up with a bad literary agent (we were young and stupid) and it never got published.  But like George Washington jokes, that material is just a little out of date.

This is like a photo from the world’s most awkward prom.

But back when we were still optimistic the Intern’s Guide, The Mrs. and I were excited when the Starr Report (a report by the independent counsel looking into the Clintons) came out.  We felt that it would make a perfect sequel to our Intern’s Guide.  Heck, the working title for the sequel was The Starch Report.

Then I read the Starr Report.  Ugh.  What President Clinton did was . . . sad.  You can forgive lots of things, but getting past disgust over behavior that was, by any standards, weak and pathetic is a pretty high bar.   And it wasn’t the perjury that was the worst part – it was the complete lack of self-control.  Just because a complete lack of self-control is legal doesn’t make it moral or desirable.

As you can see from President Clinton’s example, this lust wasn’t just a weakness, it was personally destructive to him.  And some of our greatest fiction, Shakespeare’s Macbeth, for example, explores this same theme.  I still recall when Macbeth, in the movie version, gets kicked off campus.  Then he and his wacky friends form a paranormal investigating service, and save New York from Macduff, who is portrayed as the Stay-Puft® Marshmallow Man.

Ahh, Shakespeare at his best.

But history has shown time and time again how lust for sex or lust for power has led to the downfall of the powerful – like the time Weinstein put the moves on Napoleon and Napoleon outed him on Twitter® with the #NapoleonToo campaign.  But in all seriousness – if Napoleon had been content with France?  If Weinstein could be  . . . not Weinstein?  Napoleon could have gone down in history as an amazing leader and statesman.  And Weinstein could have maintained his revered status in Hollywood.

In the end, greed makes you poor.  Need makes you needy.  And desire makes you a slave.

But you’re saying, “John Wilder, all of that seems kind of negative.  What’s the solution, I mean besides joining your cult of the Nudist Beatnik Threesome?”

Outcome independence.  The idea of outcome independence is that who you are doesn’t change based on the results, and, win or lose you realize that’s an okay outcome.  Like Kipling wrote in his poem, If (LINK):

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same . . .

You are independent of the outcomes around you – your job, the last raise you got, all of it.  That’s not outcome indifference.  Not at all.  Throw yourself into getting to an outcome that you’re passionate about.  Outcome independence isn’t being without passion, because nothing worthwhile ever gets done without passion.  Let me explain with an example:

I was nearly a freshman in high school, and was mildly infatuated with a girl in class.  Back then, people had phone books, and had their names in the book.

I called her house.  Her dad (a doctor) answered.

“Is Michelle in?”

“Michelle, it’s for you.”

Michelle:  “Hello?”

John Wilder:  “Hi Michelle, it’s John Wilder.  Interested in going to go see a movie?”

Michelle:  “I’m sorry – I’m busy that night.”

Seriously, I didn’t leave anything out of the conversation.  I asked her to a movie, and she said she was busy.  But I had never said when I wanted to take her to a movie or even what movie.  Even freshman me understood that meant that there was no night, ever, when she’d say yes.

Even then I was amused.  I really wanted to go out with her – I was not indifferent – she was pretty cute.  But when the outcome was negative, I didn’t have the slightest bit of loss of self-worth.  There were lots of girls out there.

But failure is a result, too.  I prefer to win.  Strongly.  But winning doesn’t make me a better person, and it doesn’t make me more moral – look at all of the really horrible people that have been successful.  I could name them, but they have lawyers.  I learned my lesson with Gandhi.

Losses can be better than a win . . . sometimes:

• What did you learn?
• Are you stronger?
• Would success have been bad for you?
• Is this just a temporary loss that brings about a greater victory?
• Can you lose gracefully?
• Is the loss pointing you to a mistake you’re making that you need to correct?

The best victories are internal.  I know when I hit “publish” on a post whether or not I liked the post, whether or not I hit a home run.  I really want you to like it, too, but internally, I know when I enjoyed writing it, and am pleased with the results.  I’m passionate about it, and when I know I’ve done a good job, it makes it hard to go to sleep.  I’m excited.

And I get enjoyment out of failing, too.  If you never failed, victory wouldn’t feel so good.  But I’d still like some glittery star glasses.