Conviction is hot. I bet the cattle rustler gets girls. I know people with conviction and it’s hot (in girls)/respectworthy (in guys). Conviction seems to revolve around being willing to risk insignificance. I think that means knowing one’s happiness. But that leads to a whole lot more questions, most importantly, where does wanting an attitude come from?

I.

I read a story in the book Wisdom Eccentrics that stuck with me. A famous lama, Dza Patrul, is staying at a monastery whose area is plagued by cattle rustlers. One day a brigand comes and offers the local protector deity a shoulder of lamb in exchange for good luck cattle rustling, demanding to be killed if the deity doesn’t agree:

He entered without removing [his shoes] – and, lacking any pretence at formal courtesy, addressed the local protector: “Screaming Red Tsèn! This is the deal — you get an offering like this every month on the twenty-ninth day — I get to rustle yak without any problems. If you agree… take this shoulder of lamb — if you don’t agree, kill me now! Here — on this spot — where I stand! I tell you in earnest…. I’m a dangerous man — but my word is my word!”

… The bandit waited a while — motionless, with unblinking eyes. Then, in a careful yet leisurely manner, he unwrapped the leathern bag and deposited the shoulder of lamb in front of the local protector. He stood for a moment and said “This is my vow then — if I break it, take my life — but if I keep it always, reward me with unrestrained banditry!”

(This feels like it could be an episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender. A lot of the stories in Wisdom Eccentrics feel like this.)

The brigand is good for his word. Every month, he comes back and offers another sacrifice on the 29th.

There’s a lot more to the story, but what really sticks with me is, damn, what brass balls to strike a deal like that! I imagine being a 19th century Tibetan brigand who believes this protector could kill him if it wanted to, and so to outright invite it to do so if it doesn’t agree — that’s conviction! That’s accepting the consequences of what he’s asking for, what he wants! He’s so intent on living his life this cattle-rustling way that he’s willing to risk death for it. That’s powerful beyond words.

I bet this dude got girls, if he wanted them. Being an outlaw in itself is polarizing — some girls will find it disgusting, and some girls will find it hot. He’s evidently good at what he does — he shows up to the local protector’s shrine wearing a gold earring, with expensive, finely decorated saddlebags, in well-kept leathers. That’s attractive in itself — the competence and the goods. It also means he’s competent to maintain himself and a wife too. And, he knows when he wants something bad enough to risk literally dying for it. Getting a girl, as I understand it — not yet having succeeded myself — only requires metaphorically dying, so he’s got a head start. Plus, I’m pretty sure girls find it hot when a guy is willing to die for something, when he’s not afraid of literal death.

Setting aside what girls might want or like, I respect this bandit. I don’t like him. I don’t think he’s a good guy. He’s got balls. He can risk death with eyes open. That’s power. That’s conviction. Whether or not I like what he does with it, that demands respect.

And reflecting on this story, I think: God damn, if I had that kind of conviction, I could definitely find my girl. I wish! Wouldn’t that be nice?

That’s a funny thought, “wouldn’t it be nice?” If I really thought it would be nice, if I really wanted conviction, I could have it, right? Conviction seems like a “state of mind” if I’ve ever heard of one. It sounds like an attitude. There should be absolutely nothing stopping me, or anyone else, from taking on an attitude if we really thought it were in our best interest. So if I’m not taking it on, then I must think there’s some drawback.

Like, maybe I’m afraid of dying. I seem to be sometimes. It’s been known to happen.

I don’t want conviction, but I do want conviction. I think, damn, I’d like to have balls like that. I wouldn’t want to use them to live as a brigand, I’d like to find some better use for them, but damn, I’d like to have them! I want to do everything that I can to move my self in the direction of more and more courage, more and more conviction.

II.

The cattle rustler story sticks with me because it’s dramatic, but I see conviction as having everyday relevance, too. As mentioned, I both think it’d be great for getting girls and that I’d like it for its own sake — I think having conviction would mean living more and more a life I am proud of. Conviction’s relevant in a hell of a lot of contexts.

When I think of the people I most respect and the women I find most attractive, I think of conviction:

• I think of a ballet dancer I know who wants to start her own dance company, a lady dedicated to her craft and charming, not to mention hot as hell. Ballet is difficult. Ballet companies regularly turn down hundreds if not thousands of applicants. She knows this. She still works hard every day to succeed. I respect that and find it hot.
• I think of a lady I know who’s blunt, who speaks and dances freely. I think of her talking about walking around her apartment naked, and remarking to me ironically that she knows I must be offended to hear such things. (She was correct, I wasn’t.) Some people would find her offensive; there’s no way she doesn’t realize this, but she talks how she talks. I respect that and find it hot.
• I think of a friend of mine who practices magic and demon-summoning. He is totally up front about this with everyone, including his Christian boss. He talks to his coworkers about his demon-summoning altar. He’s shown it to preachers who came to his door to try and get him to come to their church. He’s got a whole rationale for everything that’s on the altar and how it makes sense according to the aesthetics of his magic. I respect my friend’s commitment to the bit.
• I think of the most confident male line dancer I know. This guy’s often among the first to know the cool new advanced dances, and he regularly goes beyond what the step sheet says, styling the dance his own way. I often look to him when I don’t know or don’t remember a dance. When I think about embellishing my dancing more, I think of him as an inspiration. I see no self-doubt or self-protectiveness in the way he moves, even when he’s got the dance wrong. I respect the conviction in how he moves.

I think of these and many other people and moments. And what I think they have in common is conviction. They aren’t holding back. They are living free from some kind of fear of death — economic death, emotional death, social death, some combination of the three. It’s not that they never fear these things, but however afraid they are, they still risk such deaths in how they live. They are willing to risk total insignificance. That’s attractive in exactly the same way as the brigand.

III.

I don’t know if there is any internal experience that can be called conviction. Conviction looks so different in different contexts. Maybe conviction is what we call it from the outside when we see someone acting in full awareness of the risk they will be rendered totally insignificant. The pattern of risking insignificance holds across lots of different contexts;

• I remember in college another guy looking at my laptop background and remarking, unflatteringly I think, “Is that a My Little Pony?” Yes, I said. By using that as my background and acknowledging what it is, I risked that some will decide I’m not a real man, that I’m unworthy of respect, because I liked such a thing.
• I have a friend who left his dorm room wearing a Sailor Moon costume. Just walking out his door like that he risked that some would decide he’s a weirdo, not a real man, and unworthy of respect. But he did it anyway. That’s conviction.
• Entering a competition means risking the possibility of defeat. It doesn’t matter if it’s a fighting game tournament, a martial arts tournament, a chess tournament, a writing or art or dance competition. We risk being found an insignificant loser, a talentless hack of no consequence.
• Speaking doesn’t guarantee we’ll be heard on any level. Our words may not physically reach our audience — maybe there’s loud music and they can’t hear us, maybe we habitually speak in a low voice. If they do reach our audience they may not pay attention to the words. If they do pay attention to the words they may not care about the meaning. If they do pay attention to the conceptual meaning they may not care about the feelings underneath. We risk being rendered insignificant as a communicator — our words going unheard, unattended, taken as worthless, or understood only on a conceptual level.
• Venturing a new topic with someone risks that they find it (and you) boring, worthless.
• Romantic ventures risk rejection. Flirting with someone or asking them on a date risks being rendered a worthless creep.
• Speaking without hedges or filler words risks others deciding you are an overconfident fool unworthy of attention.
• Speaking with emotion risks others deciding you are a hysteric fool incapable of keeping yourself together, that you are blown about by every passing feeling and therefore you are not to be trusted or valued. It risks their indifference, that others won’t care what you feel. Speaking with emotion also risks others defining you by what you feel — as the sad guy, the angry guy, the horny guy, or whatever, so that whatever else you are or will be is rendered insignificant.
• Running a business risks failure, risks the impersonal market showing you to be powerless to sustain your enterprise.

IV.

It seems to me conviction is about being willing to be rendered insignificant, but what’s that mean? What’s it mean to be rendered insignificant?

• Usually it means you tried to affect the world in some way and it fell flat. Your business went bankrupt. Your flirtation was met with boredom or confusion or apprehension. You invited a girl on a date and she ever so politely said I’ve got a boyfriend. Your joke met dead silence.
• Sometimes it means you communicated something and others judged you, more or less explicitly, for it.

Or at least, that’s the external view. But none of these needs to matter; often practical consequences are slim to none. Say I pass a girl on my way out the door to meet a friend for dinner and in addition to commenting on her cute dog, I tell her she’s cute. The worst likely practical outcome is she feels awkward or tense for a moment or two and maybe she’s less inclined to interact with me next time I see her. The practical consequences matter less to all involved than eating a cheeseburger would. So why avoid being rendered insignificant? It’s not cognitive, mental, or logical. The reasons for avoiding being rendered insignificant must be emotional.

From the inside, I think, when I lack conviction and hold back, I’m trying to avoid being rendered insignificant, because if I were rendered insignificant then I would have to feel a way I don’t want to feel. If she got tense when I flirted with her, or if she was confused or bored, or if she didn’t respond at all, I would have to feel a heaviness which would (or rather, I would interpret to) mean I’m worthless and incapable of getting a girl, therefore I must not flirt with her. To be rendered insignificant is to feel a certain way and then interpret the feeling as meaning I have no value. To be rendered insignificant means to feel a way I don’t want to feel.

That’s right, I’m beating the Option Method drum again. According to the Option Method view, unhappiness means believing that I could be forced to feel a way I don’t want to feel. That’s what it’s like to “lack conviction.” If things not turning out well means you have to feel a way you don’t want to feel, then of course you don’t risk it. On the other hand, happiness means not believing that anything could make me feel a way I don’t want to feel. To be happy is to have conviction.

Conviction is knowing and living from your perfect happiness.

V.

I see conviction and I see its benefits, but I don’t really understand it. I have about sixteen questions:

• When he strikes the deal with the local protector deity, is that the brigand knowing and living from his perfect happiness? Feels like a controversial way to frame that story.
• I heard a different myth (from the Amorati) about a Roman rebel named Gaius Mucius, who, captured by the King of Clusium, Lars Porsena, stoically shoves his hand in a fire when Lars threatens torture. That sounds like conviction to me. Is Gaius Mucius happy in that moment? Is he knowing and living from his perfect happiness? Feels like a controversial way to frame the story.
• If one is knowing and living from their perfect happiness, does that always look like conviction from the outside?
• If one is knowing and living from their perfect happiness, does that always feel like conviction from the inside?
• Happiness is sufficient for living with conviction; but is happiness necessary for living with conviction? Can one “live with conviction” without being happy? Can a person live with conviction according to their own conscience without being happy? Can a person live with conviction according to external appearances without being happy?
• There are methods that scaffold “living with conviction”; do these also lead to happiness? I’m thinking of authentic relating and dating advice. I’m thinking of Zan Perrion’s advice for responding to accusations, paraphrasing: “Never defend yourself from an accusation; agree and make it worse.” I'm also thinking of "Aaron's" social anxiety self-treatment protocol. I suspect a lot of Ngak’chang Rinpoche’s boomer life advice (positive sentiment) functions like this. Probably JBP, too, for them that believe in him. Can you discover perfect happiness by living such maxims?
• Do things like NCR's boomer life advice (positive sentiment) function only as scaffolds for perfect happiness? Or do they describe something else, like the external consequences of perfect happiness? They probably describe what NCR's perfect happiness is like. But, no two happinesses are the same. Do his maxims describe anyone else's perfect happiness? Would I want them to describe my own perfect happiness?
• If conviction is another word for happiness, then you can’t develop it and you can’t lose it — you can only know your happiness or believe in unhappiness. Sounds crazy. But it also sounds right?
• Is happiness really sufficient for living with conviction? One way Bruce Di Marsico defines happiness is “feeling however you choose to feel or experience yourself, and not believing that anything makes that wrong.”
• Can I start living with conviction today and never stop? If I could do that, I’d be an instant mystic. It sounds great and I guess there’s no rule against it. Maybe I could give it a shot.
• In Wisdom Eccentrics, chapter 22, page 242, Ngak’chang Rinpoche comments that personal power — not social or supernatural power — “[is] a question of being prepared to die in the next moment — to be totally insignificant.” This sounds to me with conviction, and in fact I stole this line to describe conviction. But then how’s happiness relate to “being prepared to be totally insignificant”? How’s happiness relate to “being prepared to die in the next moment?” It could be that NCR’s writing from a conventional frame where unhappiness exists and one can be made to feel a way one doesn’t want to feel — but that feels like an incomplete answer. Is that the bottom line? Or, can we reconcile the framing of being prepared to die with the idea that conviction, or power, is happiness, and that happiness is “feeling however you choose to feel or experience yourself, and not believing that anything makes that wrong”?
• Is there any functional difference between lacking conviction and believing in unhappiness?
• Unhappiness doesn’t exist, we only believe that it does; so then how can we lack conviction? It sure looks like we can lack conviction. I guess this is a matter of acting — if we can act unhappy (see: “acting unhappy”), we can also act as if we lack conviction. Does the connection to happiness and unhappiness imply that “lack of conviction” is not something that happens to us, but something we believe we are compelled to feel which we then act out? If so, could we burn that cultural script? Let’s exorcise the penis-stealing witches.
• Conviction and lack of conviction are tied to a lot of cultural scripts. When I speak, hesitating and using filler words and speaking in a monotone are tied to a cultural script of lacking conviction. That’s how we know someone lacks conviction. Do those scripts go away when we know we are happy? Or is dropping those scripts a separate quest? If we can act unhappy when we know we are happy, and we can, then to some extent it must be a separate quest. Damn it! I don’t like that answer.
• Do I want to have conviction? If so then how can I lack it?

And, one last question from the brigand story. After telling the story, Kyabjé Künzang Dorje Rinpoche says to his student Ngak’chang Rinpoche:

What is important is that you're able to have the fearlessness of a brigand and the heart of a kind mother.

The brigand’s fearlessness is conviction is happiness. Do you want the heart of a kind mother? Do I? If one wants it, where does one get it? Or is it right there immediately as soon as one wants it?

Where does wanting come from? How does wanting happen?