How to Fight

Paul Gauguin, The Vision after the Sermon (Jacob Wrestling with the Angel)

1. Stay low on defense. Move your feet. Don’t be lazy. Box out. Grab the rebound with two hands.
2. You can’t debate feasibility. Go after efficacy instead. Speak clearly and don’t be afraid to make eye contact with the judges or your opponent.
3. Begin sentences with “I feel.” Don’t bring up old ordeals. Listen closely.
4. Stick up for yourself. Ask for the manager or write a letter to the airlines.
5. Never fight in front of others. If an argument is unavoidable, speak softly. Be discreet.
6. Once the price is offered, counter it by half. When this is rejected outright, cast a longing glance at the object of desire, run your fingers over it, shake your head, and leave the stall. When called back, and begged to be reasonable, go up by 10%. When told this price is ridiculous, shrug, and slowly begin another fake exit. When summoned back, go up to 15%. Don’t budge.
7. When tackling, aim for the knees.
8. Stay up late. Write a list of pros and cons. Be stern with yourself. Don’t let yourself get away with the same old shenanigans. Wonder when you started using the word shenanigans. Call an old friend and try to get them to externalize the inner debate.
9. Characters often speak around the topic, not through it. Let silence punctuate the dialogue. Let their actions – smoking, drinking, cooking, emailing – absorb the rage.
10. Sonnets to Orpheus, Part One, III, by Rainer Maria Rilke (English translation follows original).

Ein Gott vermags. Wie aber, sag mir, soll

ein Mann ihm folgen durch die schmale Leier?

Sein Sinn ist Zwiespalt. An der Kreuzung zweier

Herzwege steht kein Tempel für Apoll.

Gesang, wie du ihn lehrst, ist nicht Begehr,

nicht Werbung um ein endlich noch Erreichtes;

Gesang ist Dasein. Für den Gott ein Leichtes.

Wann aber sind wir? Und wann wendet er

An unser Sein die Erde und die Sterne?

Dies ists nicht, Jüngling, daß du liebst, wenn auch

die Stimme dann den Mund dir aufstößt, — lerne

vergessen, daß du aufsangst. Das verinnt.

In Wahrheit singen, ist ein andrer Hauch.

Ein Hauch um nichts. Ein Wehn im Gott. Ein Wind.

(Translation by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows)*

A god can do it. But tell me how

A person can flow like that through the slender lyre.

Our mind is split. At the crossroads in our heart

Stands no temple for Apollo.

Song, as you teach us, is not a grasping,

not a seeking for some final consummation

To sing is to be. Easy for a god.

But when do we simply be? When do we

Become one with earth and stars?

It is not achieved, young friend, by being in love,

however vibrant that makes your voice.

Learn to forget you sang like that. It passes.

Truly to sing takes another kind of breath.

A breath in the void. A shudder in God. A wind.

*Please excuse formatting errors– stanza breaks should follow German version. But I’ve never learned how to fight a webpage’s whims.