“Life is more fun if you play games.”—Raold Dahl
I live for warm weather, A5 Japanese steak, and certain victory.
Elite performers will work hard to be rewarded with the finest productions other elite performers work just as hard to make. Our Club is no different.
Ours is an economy of reciprocity, and nothing says that more than what you make for others, with the utmost care and attention.
But never shirk the other side of the trade.
A hard-fought war takes a toll on the warrior. It isn’t enough to recover at your home in peace. You’re entitled to love yourself. Your award for surviving the war, especially the victories, is at least one day of recovery.
And there’s a rather particular way to do it.
Every hour should feel paced and intentional. As a high-energy person, you should be expended by six o’clock in the evening. This isn’t a day for fitness, but for recumbence.
Your morning should be relatively early and slow. You might take your time to journal or stretch, pray, meditate, or some hyphen of all four. You should eat exactly what you want when you’ve finished. This is critical.
You want to be parasympathetic dominant.
Ideally, you’d have time for a daily constitutional after your first meal. This isn’t a time to reflect, but to experience air and light. A purposeless walk seems integral to mental and emotional health, though you’re welcome to visit a café for a hot beverage.
You shouldn’t stay. You should continue to walk, arrive home to shower and dress, and make your way to your first appointment.
Enter the vehicle and let the games begin.
For men, your barber is just as important as your tailor. A good stylist will treat you to a shampoo, haircut, steam, and blade, over the course of two hours. A wet shave might be necessary. Seek and you shall find one.
You should leave feeling differently, new, perhaps scented in tonka bean and neroli oil when you enter the driver’s vehicle. I’d also suggest you don’t drive your own car when recovering.
Today, you’re the passenger.
The next time-honored tradition for victors is the spa.
Grooming is more than haircuts for clean men of status. There are items in the world for consumption that don’t simply prevent bad things from happening, but encourage good things to more likely happen.
A well-designed spa should expertly accomplish both.
Having clean nails and feet are rites of passage. They remind you there are people in this world who understand you. The massage will be full-bodied and deep tissue, and should be eclipsed only by the music over the speaker.
Unlikely, but given the choice choose Hiroshi Suzuki.
You should hydrate after your treatment and prepare for your final meal. It’s a big one. Reservations should’ve been made the night before, though if dining alone you may sit at the bar to avoid the fuss. Personally, I prefer a table.
Friends of this writer will tell you what I’d be having. The cut of steak is as important as the quality, and warm pink is almost always the preferred temp. It’s important that you dine slowly and deliberately. You’ll have each bite.
Your next appointment isn’t for three hours.
I failed to mention your choice of dress, which should also demonstrate the fact you’re in a parasympathetic state. You should be comfortable without being classless, casual, yet requiring some effort. A pair of loafers is the secret.
Chat up the manager, relax, and stay a while.
When you’ve finished, pay your bill and be gone. Your penultimate appointment is the house favorite. Some will say the last is the best, but, for me, there’s something special about this one. Dealer’s choice, but it should be exalting.
I like to think of the penultimate appointment as the reason for recovery day. It’s why we’re here. It’s a canvas on which you paint your vision, with all the courage, strength, and abandon, of someone who deserves to be here.
I’ll leave it open-ended, but I’ll share one of mine.
I prefer to witness some feat of human exhibition, usually in music. One of the profits of visiting family in Pittsburgh over the holiday is the neoclassical concert halls in the Cultural District, where I can see Manfred Honek at Heinz Hall.
I hope to have the pleasure of seeing Alice Sarah Ott in Antwerp.
The penultimate appointment is something you might not otherwise do unless it were a special day, which is what recovery is trying to articulate. Living your best life isn’t a special day. The other side of the trade isn’t a gift to you.
It’s recompense for insisting on how you wish to spend your time.
The most esteemed penultimate appointments (P.A.s) are invariably cultural. The best ones require curiosity and a little effort to discover. I once attended an event in an old building, where the loveliest people sketched nude models for fun.
It was as much an exercise in personal skill as group perspective. Why did the woman next to me emphasize this over and that? What can I learn from their choices? What’s missing in my worldview that I didn’t see it, or did and ignored it?
I’m soon exploring Contemporary Works in Wood featuring the work of 19 finalists of an exhibition, where artists “explore the expressive and technical possibilities of wood.” I admit this is a personal one for me.
An aspiration of mine is to design a Danish dining chair for myself.
The final appointment is obviously to spend time with someone you love. It’s the most valuable of them all. A phone or video call suffices if you’re remote, so long as you can tell the other person you love them.
They needn’t say I love you back. The principle benefit of recovery day is doing what’s best for you. That might mean giving more than you get, so long as the giving benefits you in the process. Giving something to someone else usually does.
If possible, do visit with someone who loves you.
It doesn’t matter whom. So long as you can spend a moment and there’s love between you. Ideally, the words ‘I love you’ are exchanged.
“We must love one another or die.” —W.H. Auden