Going Monk Mode
Living “the good life” is not amazing. I mean that in the literal sense of the word. It is not astonishing; it does not cause great surprise or wonder. The good life is not dripping in jewels or lauded with prestigious awards. It is not known by millions of strangers, served with gold flakes on a tiny plate, or delivered in a cardboard box. The good life does not have 10000000000000 followers—swipe up to—25%—lovethatforyou—tap now—summer CODE:SUMMER—THIS IS NOT A DRILL YOU GUYS—THECODE IS SUMMER20—link inb—(I lose consciousness.)
This is not a revelation. Nearly every philosopher and faith preaches a version of this message, and they can’t all be wrong.
The good life is about love and, honestly, ngl, it’s about small, repetitive sacrifice. It’s about family, duty, friendship, faith, responsibility, hard work, commitment, creativity, community, etc.—cutting things out here as this is a long piece and you get it—all that stuff, the stuff you know deep down it’s about. That’s the good life. It is beautiful, eternal, and deeply fulfilling, but it is not amazing. That’s Monk Mode, baby.
Yes, indeed, we are living in a Difficult Time. And society’s answer to the misery we feel and see all around us is typically one of three things: (1) use money to make your life easier, (2) ignore it and focus on you—that’s called #selfcare, babe, or, if none of that works, (3) learn to lie down and take it. I don’t know about you, but none of that has worked very well for me. I’ve tried.
I needed to take a different approach. At risk of sounding cloyingly positive, living in Difficult Times can be a blessing of sorts. It affords you a real opportunity to forge your own values and attempt to live up to them. Struggle, suffering, and sacrifice are redemptive parts of human existence. No one gets to go through life without them.
“Monk Mode” is a sort of shorthand I’ve been using for the way I’m aspiring to live my day-to-day life these days. (Upon Googling “Monk Mode” I realized the term is already in use in the dark corners of the internet, meant to indicate a strict phase of monastic self-improvement. This is different than that, I think, though some of the motivations may be similar.)
In essence, going Monk Mode—the way I mean it, anyway—is about breaking through to the other side through self-denial, constraints, discipline, curiosity, and compassion. And by the other side, I mean the side of the world that is not based on “amazing” stuff: outward achievements, monetary success, materialism, and maximizing your options with no-strings-attached. You can still pursue excellence, have high ambitions, and enjoy nice things while going Monk Mode—in fact, that’s part of it. I encourage it. This isn’t minimalism or a vow of poverty; but we need to break out of the chaotic, consumptive cycle first.
So here goes—Going Monk Mode—a different way of being in the world that I’ve been thinking about lately:
The four tenets of Monk Mode
I. Do not confuse the token for the seed.
There once was an experiment on birds. The basic premise was that birds were given plastic tokens that they could exchange for seed they could eat. They did this by returning the plastic tokens into a designated slot, and seed would spill out. This worked well for a little while. The birds were given the tokens, they returned them, seed poured out, and they ate it. But eventually, something disturbing happened. The birds began to eat the plastic tokens. They gnawed at the plastic and drove themselves mad. The birds confused the token for the seed.
The most obvious takeaway here is that the tokens represent money and we shouldn’t confuse money itself with something that can sustain us, even though it can get us things that can sustain us—like food or a flight home to see family. That’s definitely something to take away from the experiment, but I think it’s a widely-applicable binary for a lot of things in life. Some things in life are token; others are seed. Awards and titles? Token. Doing something you love to the best of your ability? Seed. Cozy dinners with friends and family? Seed. A photo of the experience? Token. Followers? Token. So token. So token as to not even be real. The world loves to tell you that the token is actually the seed. There are too many examples to count.
“Do not confuse the token for the seed” is the first tenet of Monk Mode because it gets at the overall mindset, which is total mental clarity about what really matters to you and sustains you. What in your life is token and what is seed? It’s not too hard to figure out if you think critically and follow your intuition.
II. Constraints grant you freedom.
I’m not a true minimalist, nor am I particularly monastic, though I do enjoy walking around Manhattan listening to Gregorian Chant music. (I have found it almost impossible to listen to this music and not feel a vague kinship with my fellow man, which, admittedly, is very hard to do in Manhattan.)
Over the last couple years, I have found that I am happier with constraints in pretty much all parts of my life. I am always happier with less of a higher quality. This has not always been the case.
I used to be a terrific consumer-spectator: I would wander downtown and go into Goop or Zara or the umpteenth miserable pop-up and buy something in order to feel something. I would buy books I wouldn’t read, I would buy clothes that were on trend but looked terrible on me. I would undertake elaborate “self-care” routines that felt more like punishments of the flesh. I would daydream about my potential. I would browse the internet all day desperately trying to get one little morsel of insight that would justify all the time I spent searching and searching and searching. I was miserable and my life was chaotic.
After I came out of a depressive episode, which I’ve written about here, I made some serious changes in my life. I figured out my three priorities in life, in order (see tenet I). I wrote them down. Then I allocated my time and energy accordingly. It sounds absolutely insane to say this, but that’s kind of all there is to it.
After that, everything else had to go. I ruthlessly eliminated things until I felt a click. It took a long time. I was embarrassed at first—why would I buy all this CRAP; waste all this TIME—but it got easier and easier once I got over feeling so wasteful. I tried to get comfortable saying to myself, and when needed, to others, “I can see how people would like that, but it’s really not for me.” I got comfortable with the fact that I own exactly one handbag and it’s from Urban Outfitters. I guess I don’t care that much about handbags.
Below, I outline some specific things that I do because I think specificity here is helpful to illustrate the point. But really, the only thing to do is what works best for you. I’m sure I sound a bit lifestyle-blogger-y, but the reality is that this is all super, super boring and tedious in practice. The following constraints have given me more freedom with my time, money, and energy:
Budgeting every dollar. I use an extremely thorough app called YNAB. It has a bit of a learning curve, but it has been a revelation, especially given I no longer earn regular income. All impulse purchasing—and I never thought I’d say this—has screeched to a halt. I can’t recommend it enough.
Eating like a dog. I love a nice restaurant on occasion. But day-to-day, I eat like a dog. I eat two boiled eggs with runny yolks on sourdough toast every day (extra butter on the toast, ample salt for minerals), occasionally accompanied by some kind of no-cook protein (prosciutto, sardines, anchovies) or some kind of fermented vegetable (pickles, and these). It’s healthy and nourishing and fast and cheap. Sometimes I mix it up with Marmite or hot sauce and that’s enough variation for me. I also take fermented cod liver oil every day. It is absolutely as disgusting as it sounds. My little brother turned me onto the “Human Diet” a few years ago and when I eat this way I feel great, which is enough evidence for me.
Dressing for my body. About two years ago, I figured out what kind of clothes work for my body using the dated but fun system devised by David Kibbe, which is based on bone structure, silhouette, and natural shape. (I’m a “Dramatic”—the most masculine/yang of all the types.) This has given me a weird sense of permission to wear men’s clothes and not follow certain trends because they aren’t my “lines.” Enjoy the harmless and fun Kibbe rabbit hole.
Removing the phone from my hand. Our phones are a portal to a world of human suffering and despair, infrequently punctuated by fleeting moments of joy. It’s a raw deal. I’m an addict just like everyone, but to curb the addiction I’ve taken to putting my phone in greyscale and keeping it in a very inconvenient or far away place. Sometimes, I will admit, it is under lock and key. The lockbox is under my bedside table and the keys are in the refrigerator, which makes getting it out of the box just enough of a pain.
Exercising several times a week. Best anti-depressant out there, in my experience. I’ve written more about exercise here, but I’ve really gotten into it lately. The more I go the better I feel. My gym routine is the same every week (no classes, I really dislike workout classes). I do a mix of weightlifting, pilates-style bodyweight stuff from Dana Landgren (I love her 6-week program and cycle through it—no equipment or gym needed). I also do this 5 min arm workout from Juliana Spicoluk every time I go to the gym. I know I said no classes but Juliana is really great. Of critical importance: she has a great voice.
Ruthlessly ridding my life of noise and pointless stuff. Think of this as an exercise in chaos reduction. To expand on the above: I sold/donated all the clothes I never wore. My entire wardrobe now fits snugly in three drawers (not including hanging, which is limited) and I still don’t even wear them all. I chucked the products I don’t use every day. Cleaned out the browser tabs, deleted the useless apps, turned off notifications for nearly everything, tackled the squirrel piles under the couch. I came to terms with the fact that I will probably never learn Italian. I also tried to get rid of as much flimsy plastic crap as possible, opting instead for wood, glass, cast iron, ceramic, stainless steel, sturdy fabric, etc. Objects of this nature feel more stable and calming.
Slowmaxxing. Much easier said than done, but I’m trying—and very often failing—to tell myself I have as much time as I need for everything, I just can’t procrastinate by doing something else. I try to go slowly. I write most things longhand and keep a diary every day, my beloved Hobonichi Weeks Mega. Keeping a diary like this, even writing one sentence a day, which is usually all I do, allows me to reminisce and actually process the passage of time. In my Hobonichi I track workouts, record how I spent my day, note the happiest memories of the year, list inside jokes with my fiancé, and a lot more. It is so much fun to look back on. When I have the book with me, it is actually a much faster way to record appointments and check my plans than my phone.
Modern society will not put constraints on us when it comes to wanting, spending, producing, and endlessly debating our rational choices. Only we can. And we should, lest we get swept up in chaos. All of these things save me so much time and energy. It’s literallyyyy sooooooo boring, but in a good way.
This is getting long, so I’ll keep the last two short:
III. As your body and mind grow tired, your heart will know peace.
Technology makes us lazy. We are surrounded by a proliferation of devices, which we think will do the work for us, but they don’t. Thoroughly exhausting ourselves intellectually and physically through productive work brings fulfillment, and with fulfillment comes peace.
The antidote to anxiety is often action—doing something, anything, removes the feeling of listlessness. As a ruminator, I’m trying hard to work on this. When I think back to the times in my life when I was the most anxious and unhappy, I was usually under-stimulated in all the meaningful parts of life (creatively, socially, spiritually) and over-stimulated in all the meaningless parts (screentime, shopping, etc.).
Earnest hard work, commitment, and the pursuit of personal excellence—your best effort, whatever that may be—is a worthy pursuit and something to admire in others. Move toward challenges that will toughen and improve you. At the end of a good day’s work, sleep feels truly rewarding.
IV. Seek the spiritual, the mysterious, and the beautiful—in the world and in yourself.
We live in deeply unsexy times, y’all! We desperately need more beauty, mystery, and romance in the world. A small example I came across recently: consider St. Teresa of Ávila’s (16th cent.) conception of the human soul, where she describes “the soul as if it were a castle made of a single diamond or of a very clear crystal, in which there are many rooms, just as in Heaven there are many mansions.” What a way to think of oneself. What a way to think of every person you encounter in the world.
So much of modern life seems almost designed to break the human spirit. But we can’t forget that the world is profoundly beautiful, and it is here for us to revel in its splendor. Seek and enjoy the beauty of Mother Nature, her seasons, the seasons of life, the passing of time. Surround yourself with beautiful people you love. Make your space beautiful in the way only you know how. Eschew WeWork (soul-crushing and $300/mo) and head to the New York Public Library, which is FREE.
In conclusion
The last few years have been a real trip. The horror of lockdown is over, the false promise and jubilation of “it’ll all be normal again” has passed, and now we’re here in the broken, mundane present. But the present has always been broken in some way, and it always feels a little mundane. Monk Mode is about embracing the mundanity of every day life, and realizing that it can be great.
As a final note, I was recently a guest on The Consultant talk show, and I touch on some what I’ve written here. If you’d like to watch the interview, you can do that here. Also, I’m taking a small break from standup shows to focus on a few writing projects and spend time with family, but I look forward to returning to the stage soon. For those of you who have come out to support in New York City and San Francisco, thank you! A lot of new material is in the works.