From the martial heroes of Jiang Hu to the epic demigods who strode amongst the mortals of Ancient Greece.
From the outlaws of the Wild West, to the knights and nobles of King Arthur’s court.
From the enforcers of La Cosa Nostra to the Bloods and Crips, Triads and Yakuza, society idolizes the larger-than-life exploits of men and whom who live and die by a code.
Whether there truly is honor among thieves is beside the point.
What we long to see are people overcome impossible odds by doing the thing that lets them win when it matters most.
On some level we hope we could do the same, but how would we know?
Chances are, if you’re reading this, you aren’t currently embroiled in a life or death struggle—the outcome of which is balanced on a razor’s edge!
Like most of us living now, and most of us who have lived throughout history, 90% of our lives will be a series of normal routines.
Day in. Day out.
Pirates spend most of their time swabbing decks.
Cowboys are finding water and grass for their cattle.
In Wiseguy, Nicholas Pileggi’s book upon which Goodfellas was based, the daily life of a gangster is largely spent playing cards and eating with your men and your family.
Even soldiers on campaign spend most of their time marching to battlefields, checking weapons, digging trenches and eating rations.
Most lives are long chains of unremarkable time,
Punctuated by tense flashes of sheer chaos.
While we can never really know how we’d handle life’s major crises, we can get as best a sense as we can from insignificant events.
Friends who are there when you need them for small things, are more likely to be there for the big things.
People who are honest with themselves are far more likely to be honest with others.
If you put yourself in difficult situations, you are more likely to overcome real difficulty.
And so, the best way to know you will follow your code in the moments that matter, is to practice with all the moments that don’t.
It’s a concept common to many cultures.
The stoics believed that how you did any one thing was how you did everything.
My kendo instructor once taught me that I should fold my laundry with the same presence of mind, the same zanshin spirit, that I would cutting through an opponent.
In Eiji Yoshikawa’s Musashi, the great swordsman can sense another warrior’s formidable skill in the way he clips a flower stem.
It matters not whether you are an outlaw of the Water Margin or a bartender of the local watering hole, your abilities come through in everything you do.
Because doing the normal things exceptionally, is the best sign we have that you will do the same when confronted with the exceptional.