It's great he's happy with the life he has chosen. But I personally find people who are even slightly like that (i.e. closed off to new experiences) depressing to be around. My parents are kind of like that, and have been as long as I can remember. But to each their own.
I think he's sad because they _do_ go to the effort of hearing the cuckoos, but they're rushing. They're not fully present, and so they don't get the full experience.
He, by contrast, is very present in the things he does. That he doesn't choose to do many things is a different topic.
I am from (near) Rome, and am familiar with the phenomenon of people visiting the city over a weekend, or even worse, on a day trip.
That literally means you cannot experience the city, you can at most put some checkmarks on the 3 most popular sights. In a month you may spend a weekend in Paris, Madrid, Rome and London, but I believe it would be better to spend a few more days in only one of those. This is still different from, say, spending six months in a given city (which is what some people do to really experience it!).
To each their own, some people do prefer broad & shallow to restricted & deep, but I think these days we do tend to over-emphasize the shallow side.
As you mention, there's a good balance, and maybe 20 days could have been spent in 2 cities. But a weekend is very shallow
Something can be gained by not stripping away boredom, but instead "savouring" the moment to see where it leads (essential for creativity).
Then there is the idea of taking a cold shower as first thing in the morning to tell your subconscious to better not be to comfortable, and prepare "properly" for your day ahead (without "expectation" of comfort). Eating the same supper is a similar spirit and strips away the comfort and thinking that "one has an entitlement to something".
See also the Stoic philosophy etc.
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from the wikipedia link:
> "Slowness" — in German, "Langsamkeit" — had, before Nadolny's novel been primarily associated with mental retardation. In Nadolny's world, however, this seeming disability is in fact a powerful asset; the possessor of "slowness" can afford to wait, because he must wait. As a result, he attains victories unimaginable to the more "hurried" multitude. Nadolny's choice of a hero is apt in this regard; certainly the historical Sir John Franklin was never known for his mental alacrity, but beyond that, his "slowness" is more of a post-modern conceit. In a manner reminiscent of Roland Barthes' "autobiography" of Jules Michelet, Nadolny's Franklin is completely consistent with the known facts, all impeccably researched. Yet interwoven with the truth there is an entirely fictitious construction of Franklin as "slow," ranging from an imaginary ball-game in which the hapless John always arrives several seconds after the ball has departed to a fictitious re-creation of Franklin's efforts, at the height of Admiral Horatio Nelson's naval battles, to find and shoot a sniper from atop the masts of an enemy warship. By waiting, without panic, and carefully noting the angle at which the sniper's shots have been discharged, Franklin pinpoints his location and takes him down with a single shot.
The contrast reminds me of a fad among 20-something's back in the 90s, spending a year "roughing it" on a grand tour of some third-world country. They'd come back with a tattoo, weighing 60kg, tanned and full of derision for "...your first world addiction to consumerism, man", and laughing at people who take their jobs seriously. Telling stories of dysentry, dangerous situations, psychedelics, corrupt police, bribing border guards, and living on pennies a day. "You get to see the real <wherever>". But while they certainly got closer to 'grit', they never really blended in with the locals for the same reason that they couldn't appreciate poverty. It was because they knew they had an exit strategy. They were fake, like Carla in Fight Club, going to terminal cancer support groups. Like the rich girl in Pulp's song, Common People, hanging out in a rough neighborhood, renting a flat above a shop, getting a shitty job and pretending she never went to school. But she never gets it right because she knows she can call her Daddy any time and he'll rescue her. And true enough, every man-Jack of those 20-something's had a car and a career within months of their return, and they're rightfully embarrassed about the enlightened crap they gave everyone when they first got back. Maybe a 2 week holiday to see the scenery is just as good after all?
People are different.
Who knows what he really said. Not us.
Life before plenty was hard and boring by our standards. You can still see this in poorer, remote areas -- my experience is mainly with the American midwest and random foreign travel. There simply isn't much to do (or eat, or see), unless you're close to a big city.
As Dang says about attention on HN: people give it their all, only the moderators do that, and that's what keeps the place from descending into madness. But everyone else can only give a part of their attention to HN. Fair enough, but you need some people giving it their all if you want HN to be good.
Caveat is, he's probably great at narrating his solitary life and justifying his seclusion. We don't hear from him about all the stuff that isn't great. It's possible there's lots of that stuff, too :) ;p xx
It may not apply to everyone, or even a majority of people who go out of their way for something new, but I know exactly what the parent comment means.
Well, firstly, there was a misunderstanding in the parent comment, but ignoring that, I understand you are saying that you derive enjoyment from new experiences, which you have actively sought out for at least a decade, and don't enjoy the company of people who are not like that.
But do you mean to say that you wouldn't enjoy meeting an old Welsh farmer who is not like anyone else you know? From what you've described about your interests and activities, I imagine you might enjoy the experience, at least for a while.
From what you've said, you wouldn't want to be like him, but that's a different thing to the experience of meeting him, isn't it?
> people frantically trying to experience "new" things as an effort to quiet the constant agitation of their souls
...and pointing out that there are different kinds of, I guess, opportunistic openness. One is the normal, well-adjusted kind where you say sure, let's try some Chinese food or hey, I've never been to Wales, should we go to Cardiff this weekend? It's the Michael Palin version.
The other, darker one - the one I had and which the grandparent was referring to - is the kind where you're constantly looking for the next thing or place or whatever that will make you feel content with life. It's not about experience for experience's sake, it's about trying to find something, anything, that will soothe your soul. This is the Anthony Bourdain version.
It's not that I wouldn't want to go to Wales or meet the farmer; I would, of course. The difference is in the motivation and the satisfaction I would derive from it.
I used to be in Anthony Bourdain mode. In that time, Michael Palin mode seemed a world away - non-resonant and unobtainable.
Eventually I changed into Michael Palin!
I don't mean the food all tastes the same, but rather, you've adapted to the idea of trying unfamiliar foods. At this point, every new food you try has a risk-reward where you could feel somewhere between extreme disgust or delight on either end. And people who are more open to trying new foods just weigh the reward higher than the risk. Conversely, less open people will weigh the risk higher, or they just might not care. Maybe they think, "Food doesn't move me that much. It doesn't make me nearly as happy as my sheep." (Of course, maybe they don't know because they've never tried sesame chicken.)
I'm not making a judgement call to what is better, being at peace where you are, or never be at peace and always wanting more.
It reminds me of when some interviewer asked Elon Musk: "How can people be more like you?", to which he answered "You don't want to be me... I'm not sure I want to be me".
My theory is that you have 2 things inside you: the individual and the DNA. The individual can be at peace, but it will be at the expense of the survival of the DNA. The DNA pushes you to be the best and find the best partner to reproduce. The DNA makes sure you are always at unrest and want to achieve more, get better, etc.
I think this story illustrates it well, because he is a peace even though he never married, and so will not give his DNA setup to a next generation.
Look at this austere man, so capable. Entirely singular. Wholly content. How can you come to find even a hint of the vaguest ennui. Truly I envy the man, I aspire to be so contented, unfortunately I've decades of conditioning to unravel to attain such a saintly outlook. Imagine how simple and humane the world would be if it was populated with people like this. The man is wise.
Would it be fair to assume you find such people "depressing" because they're resistant to your superficial intellectual rotundity? Because they don't play your games?
We're sacrificing humanity for the vain and meagre rewards of the flesh and conditioned from birth to tow the line. This man seems to have entirely insulated himself from that, he renders his services seemingly for the sake of it. Lives, very apparently, with great modesty. He does this despite the social pressures to do otherwise, it is quite probable that he sacrificed romance to avoid the capricious intermingling of someone else, since few are contented without effecting their next step on the hedonic treadmill, their sisyphian burden.
I respect and admire the man.
Being "noble, humble, and virtuous", if that is what you call the author of the article, is an orthogonal property. I'm not really sure he is particularly notable in those respects though. He's not harming anyone, but he's not out there making the world better for others to any great degree either. He's just living his life.