Nima Mehanian

Measure Your Worth with Influence, Not with Achievement

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Achieving goals and gaining more goods is like eating potato chips. It doesn’t fill you up. It only numbs the pain of your hunger until you find a denser and more nutritious source of food. I don’t mean to cheapen the process–and the merit–of achieving goals. It’s really important to have a calling, a “personal legend,” a trade, a specialty in life. There is a definite purpose in life for the sculpting and refining of our skills. And because there is a higher purpose for our skills, it cannot be the ultimate reason for our life’s pursuit to begin with. It’s a means to an end, not the end itself. So I compare achievement to potato chips not from the outlook that it is worthless in its nutritious yield, but that it is a placeholder, one step removed in its ability to give actual satiation.

Let’s look at this in concrete terms. Recall some of your achievements: attaining your college degree(s), mastering a skill (i.e., programming, swimming, playing a musical instrument), perhaps moving to America and becoming financially stable. Recall, also, some of your large purchases: home theater system, Aston Martin DBS, jewelry, your first home, etc. In all these moments, I expect you felt a rise in worth and/or confidence. I also expect that as you moved forward from that moment in time the novelty or significance of that achievement or object diminished. This is natural. As a biological being, you experience a stimulus (triggered by some aforementioned gain), you become excited, and then your tolerance heightens to accommodate, your excitement plateaus again, and due to–this blessing and curse of a force–homeostasis, you feel the way you did before the acquisition. Briefly put: you adapt. This, of course, is a simplified view.

As you can guess, to regain this feeling of well-being and worth, we recycle this process. We continually, and hungrily, strive to “self-develop” in an attempt to arrive at an “enlightened” station. The only seeming solution is to continually achieve more, and to continually buy more, and to remain inwardly focused. On the one hand, this is admirable. Some people have very little drive and they play out their lives not having achieved or contributed much at all; in comparison to them, you’re a champion. On the other hand, continually wanting more is intoxicating (and somewhat selfish). Sustaining your “I feel good”-ness through this method is very taxing. It requires a lot of energy, and quite simply, the rewards are fleeting. They vaporize and you have to keep laboring to replenish and maintain a fabricated sense of purpose for your life. As with any mistake, though, the problem can be solved through education.

What if there was another method? Earlier, we said that this process of achievement and attainment is merely a means to an end. What is that end? If we can’t eat potato chips forever, what is this denser and more nutritious source of food?

To explain this other method, we must start by accepting that fulfillment does not await at some future point of achievement anyway–at least not any more than gaining knowledge awaits at some finished point of understanding before learning itself becomes exciting and enjoyable. The process of learning, by itself, is enjoyable. The initial stages of learning are steep and difficult, but once we gain momentum, the rewards become continual and endless.

In this light, our efforts can be thought of as goalless pursuits. Devotion to a goalless pursuit might seem incomprehensible, and even bizarre. But behind all the media’s rhetoric that exhorts us to win and to achieve and to buy, there’s a deeper truth: the people we know as masters don’t devote themselves to their particular skill just to get better at it. They simply love practicing, and because of this they do get better.

The shift is subtle but powerful. As a consequence of mastering a narrow domain, you influence others. And being a positive influence–a road-map, even–for others who are just as passionate about the field you’re seasoned in is noble. It is an honorable service to yourself and to others who will follow you. It’s no wonder why Klout is arranging a formulaic system to measure our influence in others’ lives. It’s a blessing for our world to be connected; we have Facebook and Twitter and Skype and all the other social media platforms to thank for weaving the world together. This is the age of unity. Now it is important to realize that it is not enough for us merely to focus on our own development. We need to realize our capacity–and our privilege!–to inspire and encourage one another.

“The things we keep, we lose. The things we give away, we keep forever.”

So it’s not the behavior that changes; you’re still growing and achieving. Your perspective is what is changing. You’re transcending the notion of merely achieving and obtaining just to achieve and to obtain (and to show off, perhaps). Perfection is unattainable. We know that. It’s not a foreign notion. But so many people behave (and stress themselves) as if they’re inept for not being perfect. Perfection is an asymptote. The point is not to reach perfection, but to perpetually coincide with it. The more “sides” a circle has, the more perfect it looks to the naked eye. If you ever perfected life, you’d quickly become disenchanted with it all, and beg for escape.

Written by Nima

April 9th, 2012 at 2:59 pm

Posted in Philosophy

You’re Only in Competition with Yourself

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My health is a gift, not a right. I used to think there was merit in being healthier than others, as if being healthier was a race and I was outperforming my opponents. If that was the case, and everyone began at the same level, then there would be gratification in being in better health–or better at anything. But it’s not. Today I met someone, my age, who lives with severe heart problems and with diabetes. His problems are not self-inflicted; they’re genetic. And I realized that there are millions of others who deal with health problems. I felt scared and grateful all at once. Health is transient. Circumstances could change in a moment. There is no point in taking pride in my health, when he never had a fair shot at being healthy. It’s about as gratifying as scoring goals against a team that is lethargic and apathetic on the field. Your efforts feel meaningless. So the only alternative mindset is to consider your health as a gift. It has been bestowed onto you, and out of respect, it’s your duty to maintain that health and to fulfill your potential, otherwise that quality of health would have been given in vain. Someone else would be so appreciative to not have health problems. Cherish your advantages.

Written by Nima

January 2nd, 2012 at 4:59 pm

Posted in Memoirs

Distracted and Insatiable

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I asked, “How may I better live my days?”

With pause, He answered, “Accept your days past, with regret in the least. With utmost confidence, spend your life’s moments, and with utmost fearlessness, prepare your mind for the days that follow. The doubts in your mind, don’t believe them, and never allow your mind’s certainties to turn to doubt. Life is beaming with charming scenes, if only you allow yourself to watch…”

I intruded, “but- but-“ yet He continued, “it isn’t important to be beautiful, but beautiful to be important… even if only for one other person. It is better to be insignificantly small and in love, because love, inevitably, allows you to grow. Let love be your character that is shown toward all, not your love just a narrow compulsion expressed, obsessively, for only one other person. Success is honed by relentlessly battling up the mountain, not just in attaining the final view from the summit.”

I began consuming His words as He inhaled, only to continue…

“Every morning in the savanna, the zebra awakens, and in order to survive the day, he must be quicker than the lion. The lion, likewise, in order to survive, must be quicker than the zebra. Now it matters not whether you equate yourself to the zebra or to the lion; what matters is that with each new blanket of sunlight, you arise—with the collection of every drop of energy inside you—and run.”

This answered me well… yet, given who I am, I wanted to poke more. He raised His brow, and with finality in His gaze, He added, “Whether your capacity amounts to that of a puddle or to that of an ocean, just remain serene—even when the world around you trembles senselessly—and the vastness of the sky will appear within you.”

Written by Nima

December 13th, 2011 at 11:20 pm

Posted in Poetry

Anvil Hands

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This morning, while in the bathroom, I noticed a single ant exhaustedly scurrying around himself, without any particular direction, and without any particular task to accomplish. I was about to thoughtlessly push him down between the granite floor and the tip of my finger, but for some reason–let’s blame the chilly weather–I felt repulsed. I thought about how insensitive it must be to just push a live away. Poof. You’re gone. You’ll never make the news, no grave will be dug for you. No one will come after me. I can get away with immediate murder, discreetly, all while sitting on porcelain. The idea I held regarding the disgracefulness of this entire action began transforming: where did I pick up this habit? Parents? TV? Kindergarten? Bugs are grosss!! Squash ‘em! …it must be American conditioning…in, at least, part of the contribution. I know for certain that in other cultures, people kindly remove insects from their home. The respect for life…LIVES in them. Just because a species is able to dominate another, doesn’t mean that it should. Power doesn’t come from always exerting force, and beating on one’s Spartan chest. True power lives in those great enough to demolish anything (physically or emotionally) yet contain the discipline not to… One’s sincerity is best judged by how they treat those who have nothing to offer them.

So I observed my new ant friend for more minutes. I was perplexed by his maneuvers, “what are you trying to do, little ant?” I kept trying to leap into his mind. There is no doubt he feels utterly lost, socially crippled–on the floor of this granite desert, with six speedy legs, even…nowhere to go…nothing to eat.

I should bring him a smidgen of a leaf of lettuce, or a sunflower seed. That’s what the ants ate in A Bug’s Life, right? I wonder if he was wondering the same things about what was going on inside MY mind. Ants are pretty smart and coordinated. Maybe his ant-girlfriend cheated on him, and he thought, “Hell with this. I can’t live in the same colony with you. I’m gonna run into the open and wait for a human to slam his anvil hands over me, and remove any strength I’m saving to inhale. You did this! I would’ve sacrificed my exoskeleton and antennae in a heartbeat for you!” Then I thought I’m completely foiling his plans by going Buddha on his ass. Sigh. Love kicks the crap out of me sometimes.

Written by Nima

November 24th, 2011 at 12:56 pm

Posted in Memoirs

I Defied Game Theory and the Harem Effect on the Same Night with Relative Success

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I went to a lounge last Saturday night with a friend, and it was a success. I defied game theory, and the harem effect, approached a girl who is a 10, and found out she’s interested in me. If you’re unfamiliar with game theory, it is a mathematical concept that reflects calculated circumstances, where a person’s success is based upon the choices of others.

This theme was in A Beautiful Mind, with Russell Crowe. He and three of his friends are at a bar, and suddenly four brunettes and a blonde walk in together. Naturally, all four guys want to talk to the blonde. If more than one of them tries to talk to the blonde though, she will be put off and talk to no one. And after speaking to the blonde and being rejected, it’s too late to turn around and talk to one of her brunette friends, because no one likes being the second choice. Moreover, because the brunettes–in this scenario–are not as beautiful, the outcome suggests that if the guy chooses to speak to a brunette, he’ll have a greater chance of success. So Russell Crowe, suggests that the group should cooperate by all choosing a brunette, and leaving the blonde alone.

Now the harem effect is a primitive psychological effect that is observed in animals. A social group of females, such as elephants and seals, are typically accompanied by a fertile male–who is not in a relationship with any of them, but merely there for protection–to repel other males from approaching/accessing the group.

In my particular case, the super beautiful girl that I had eyes for (the 10–who was actually a brunette) was with two other “medium beautiful” blonde girls, and one male. I let them notice me by dancing beside them. At one point, one of my favorite songs comes on, and my mind and body really gets into it. After a few minutes, the girl I like yells, “Daaaamn! You’ve got great moves!” All the while, I’m thinking, “Shit I don’t know where this is coming from. It must be Divine intervention, because I can’t dance.” Anyway, we dance for a while, and then I split. I didn’t want to linger around. Later in the night, she accidentally backs into me, so I lean into her ear from behind and say, “You tease me every time you come near me.” And her face lights up. From her reaction, it’s obvious she likes this. We dance more, and part ways. At the end of the night when the lights are turned up. I spot the entire group again, and walk over to the guy, rest my arm on his shoulder, and say, “Hey man, is it okay if I speak to your friend here?” (Being politically polite. I don’t actually care for his permission). This is where I defy the harem effect (approaching the group of females accompanied by a male), and game theory (after he says “Sure,” I proceed to choose the most beautiful girl. The girl I wanted the whole time). She overhears, and says, “Yes, you can speak to me. But briefly!” Just to tease me.

Me: I’m Nima. Fun dancing with you. Let’s stay in touch.

Her: *Smiles* *Laughs* No. I’m sorry.

But she says it playfully, as if to say, “Try harder.”

Me: Why not? We had a great time. It’d be fun to do this again.

Her: Okay, sure. Let’s do it next Saturday night.

Me: All right. Let’s stay in touch.

Her: No.

Me: It makes no sense that you want to meet again, but don’t want to stay in touch. Have you had bad experiences in the past?

Her: Yes…

I want to fluff her ego, so I say,

Me: I really can’t fathom anyone standing YOU up.

Her: How about this: you meet me next weekend, and I see you’re actually into me and not full of shit, and we’ll go from there.
Me: Sure. I can play along. See you next Saturday, Miss… ?
Her: Rachel!
Me: Rachel. See you next Saturday, Rachel.

The thing is she’s not reserved at all. Her body. Her eyes. Her walk. Her voice. Just open and comfortable. I love that. 5’6, athletic, juicy green eyes, straight black hair. Yeah, she’s playing hard-to-get, but it’s expected. She is not merely “very good-looking.” She is a cut above that. Men are disposable to women like this. The only thing I worry about is, for women as beautiful as her, it’s rare that she has ever had a stable friendship with any man, because they have all probably wanted to sleep with her. We’ll see. We’ll see whether her brain and her heart are as impeccable as her body. If not, no big deal. It’s all fun and games.

Written by Nima

September 20th, 2011 at 4:15 am

Posted in Memoirs

Oranges and Fingertips

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I have a knack for peeling oranges,

And counting backwards from ninety-nine.

I have a love for piano music that trickles

Softly from my headphones, blocking out the world.

Then there’s my ability to become invisible,

In the simple act of throwing on my winter coat

And walking meekly.

I become just an ordinary boy,

With ordinary black hair,

Who has extraordinary ambitions, in an average and ordinary town…

With piano music in my head.

And yet…in my aimless ambling—

Because ambition often gets me nowhere—

I catch myself at the precipice of thinking of you.

I tried to forget.

I tried rubbing you out of my thoughts.

You, my second skin.

You’re difficult. Hard to get rid of.

Like peeling the skin off an orange.

Like trying to clean orange peels from my fingernails.

But you’re extraordinarily orange.

As intoxicating as the smell

That clings to my fingertips,

And layers of skin that won’t fall

Away.

Written by Nima

October 31st, 2010 at 9:36 pm

Posted in Poetry