Persistence Meets a Plot Twist
Mentatrix #16
With each Mentatrix, we take a look at the world outside, and learn more about the world inside.
Once upon a time in the 14th century, Pater Cuno was known for his piety far beyond his village in Upper Swabia. Also called “Cuno the Silent”, he did not speak a word for seventeen years, the legend says. So much so that the Pope himself was going to appoint him bishop, but as you would expect, a silent bishop can hardly be up to the job.
Cuno’s popularity continued through the centuries, with pilgrimages to his grave to cure childhood diseases or broken bones well into the 19th century. Even today, “Blessed Cuno” is honoured as the patron saint of the House of Fürstenberg, with paintings and statues of him being shown in churches from Donaueschingen in Germany to Hungary and Croatia. The distinctive mark of the saint is the index finger over his mouth.
Basically a hermit, Cuno went from “Pater” to “the Silent” to “Blessed” and the rank of a saint. Since the only information available on the internet and in the local museum in Tannheim, where he lived, is about his vow of silence, I can only assume that’s what got him the fame.
But it stopped him becoming a bishop.
I know. You’ll say, the man had values. He stuck to his guns. Earthly and institutional ranks were nothing to him. Spirit was all he was about.
Right. But it stopped him becoming a bishop for the very merits of his spirituality.
Ironical.
Especially if you think that it was his spirituality with its vow of silence that got him the fame in the first place. Just as unwanted as a bishop rank.
You make a choice and live by it. You stick with it no matter the adversity, the strain, the ordeal. Well done.
And then life, with its unfailing habit of moving on, throws an all-new combination of dice at you. You’re prompted to make a choice again: stick to the old one, or maybe reconsider? Or take just a little step back and carry on with your old choice, adapted.
Maybe.
So, in Cuno’s case, he could have reflected in his silence:
Should I carry on saying no word, or maybe I could go back to speaking?
What is it that I’m silent for, again?
Right. I want not to engage with the world, so I can hope to connect with God’s wisdom.
But I’ve been silent all these years. I’ve gained the anchor that I needed. Now I can say a word or two. Those scarce words, coming from a place of wisdom, may help people more than just with their diseases. Who knows, if I’m bishop, maybe I can make the system more humane, too?
If not, why don’t I go into the desert? They’ll spare me their job offers there. That Buddha guy sat under a tree for seven weeks in a trance, but at the end he stood up and went about the world, guiding it.
That line of thought.
Everything’s got a point for a while. Until circumstances change, and then we need to reconsider. Sticking to our guns, no matter what? That’s not perseverance. That’s death by fossilization.
Persistence for its own sake usually becomes (self-)sabotage. Pushing for the endless streak, go-go-go, is ultimately overdoing it. If it’s about work, they call it workaholism; in relationships – narcissism. In old age – senility.
It might be healthy to break the streak every now and then. Move on with life, as it brings change. Not ditch the values; just reconsider how to stand for them in the new setup.
Asking ourselves,
What is it that I’m doing this for, again?
Is it more helpful to carry on like this, or maybe make a tweak?
Is what I’ve been doing so far enough towards the goal I had? Maybe the goal is slightly changing from now on?
Just like I’m doing now: rethinking my relationship with Mentatrix.
Asking myself,
What is it that I’m doing it for, again?
My goal was to build an audience to support my novel when it comes out. Now Lili Comes to Herself is out, both paperback and as a Kindle e-book. I’m working on listing it for worldwide distribution with retailers, too, so you can order it from the bookstore round your corner.
Now what?
Is Mentatrix building an audience for Lili? Not really. Not the way I can afford to take care of Mentatrix, time-wise and capacity-wise. If anything, Mentatrix builds an audience for itself.
Life has changed the game. Mentatrix has become a project in its own right.
Meanwhile, in my life...
I’ve got a book to try to promote after the working hours of a daytime corporate job; I’ve got the next novel on my mind, which is already growing in terms of notes and random titbits of dialogue.
Can I go on with Mentatrix as I’ve done so far? Or do I need to tweak the plan?
I want to carry on with Mentatrix. It keeps me in touch with the writers world, with writing, with — you, Mentatrix readers. But do I need to make a tweak then?
Yes. I need it like fresh air. Maybe you need it, too.
Let me hereby release myself from the vow of a weekly Mentatrix post.
I may post in a month, or in two weeks, or maybe even next Sunday again. Whenever I have the bandwidth and the nudge to reflect that I can put into writing.
I may post more on Notes, Substack’s own social media-like forum. Not much use to you if you don’t have the app and follow other Substack publications, but it’s just a thought.
Is what I’ve been doing so far enough towards the goal I had? Maybe the goal is slightly changing?
The twenty months of writing Mentatrix were definitely not enough to build an audience for my novel. But the goal, I can see, has changed.
Let me go back to my original goal: the novel. Let me take care of that, by finding ways of putting Lili in front of readers, by researching and writing a new one.
Let me keep Mentatrix as a distinct project, with fewer ties, but an honest deal.
What would be the alternative? Perseverance for its own sake, aka self-sabotage? Having no time to write the next novel, or to take care of Lili, because I’m too busy putting out the next Mentatrix post?
I want to move on with life, and see what place Mentatrix may have in it.
Stay with me, and watch this space.
Even better: read Lili and leave a review 🙏💙. I promise, you’ll enjoy it!
