I’m just like everybody else. I’m not like everybody else

There’s a scene in Monty Python’s Life of Brian when Brian aims to rid himself of the massive crowd of followers that he has unwittingly accumulated, who mistakenly believe that he is the messiah come to save them. Telling them that they should stop following him and go away; that they do not need to follow him or any pseudo-saviour at all, but should rather think and act for themselves, he proclaims emphatically: “You are all individuals”.

The many-thousands of devotees roar in perfect unison: “Yes, we are all individuals!” Brian then says, “You are all different”. And the hive-mind crowd echoes back in unison: ‘Yes, we are all different!’ But then one voice from amongst the teeming mass rises up to object: “I’m not”, he cautiously announces. The crowd shushes him, and Brian is free to carry on with his…sermon.

I’ve laughed hysterically every time I’ve seen it, even though I know the line is coming. It’s a joke like Escher art, inside-out, insight through self-contradiction. Does it elicit so much laughter because of the unconscious discomfort?

There’s a related self-contradiction that perpetually plagues my pedagogy. Students, or would-be authors, or current authors who are would-be athletes, always ask me -- and have done so for many years -- questions like: “How do you find the time to both train and write every day?” or, “How do you develop the self-discipline to publish a book every year?” or, “How do you stay motivated to run all those kilometres daily in preparation for a marathon?” My answer has always been the same: “I am not special. I am not different. I’m just like everybody else.”

But I’m not like everybody else.

And I don’t want to ball about like everybody else/

And I don’t want to live my life like everybody else/

And I won’t say that I feel fine like everybody else/

Cause I’m not like everybody else/

I’m not like everybody else.

This 1966 proto-punk masterpiece by The Kinks is one of my anthems. When I’ve run so far that I feel like I’ll collapse if I take another step, I play it—loud. When my eyes are so red, my back aching, my mind distracted and begging me to end my scheduled writing for the day early, I play it—soft. It’s the song that plays as my Sunday morning 4 am alarm, to wake me for an excruciating 100-km weekly ride—no snooze.

I’m just like everybody else, but I don’t want to be. I want to be someone more along the lines of Yukio Mishima, or Maya Angelou, or Hannah Arendt, or Ambedkar, or maybe Nietzsche’s Übermensch or Aristotle’s megalopsychos. There’s a chasm between me and them. I envision a long tightrope that spans it, and the only way to cross it is by cultivating habit through discipline. One trembling step at a time.

Today is the last day of 2023, an opportune moment to plan out another 15 paces across the abyss, steps to take me from who I am now a little closer to who I want to be. Since boundaries are obviously not my thing, I’ll list them here: (1) Wake daily between 4-5.30am; (2) Stretch every day; (3) Skip rope every day; (4) Shadow-box every day; (5) Learn walking handstand; (6) Exercise (swim, bike, run, weights, etc.,) 1-4 hours daily; (7) Spar at least 1x p/w: brace into the kick/punch & counter (don’t flinch/pull away); (8) Complete the November full IronMan in 12 hours; (9) Get weight down under 65 kg and maintain thru year; (10) No sugar, alcohol or caffeine, except on Sundays; (11) Read and write for the new AI book everyday (M-F) and publish in late 2024; (12) Pass Chinese HSK level 1; (13) Upekkha-mudita-karuna-metta-meditation once weekly; (14) More positive reinforcement and less anger/frustration with the kids; and, (15) Learn the tech for fixing the BTC miner via an online course.

Now, if you drop the narcissistic melodrama of the tightrope, the abyss, and all that, this is just a quotidian list of ‘New Year Resolutions’. An everyday list for an everyman. New Year Resolutions are easy enough to abide by—in January. But how do you keep pushing, and pushing, and pushing it through from February to December?

By doing precisely what Brian said: by not following anyone else; by being your own individual self; by being different. And, of course, by blasting the Kinks to drown out the clamour of the hivemind always rising up within you…

If you all want me to settle down/

Slow up and stop all my running ‘round/

Do everything like you want me to/

There’s one thing that I will say to you/

I’m not like everybody else/

I’m not like everybody else…