My dad was very impatient with optimists and naively happy people. He would get quite grumpy at times, most people are bad, the world is going downhill, women are evil, that kind of stuff. When asked not to be such a god damned pessimist he would object vividly: "Ich bin Realist!". I found that impressive at the time. He would never budge, find arguments to win any confrontation and people would just let it pass. Thinking about it today I came to the conclusion that dad was a problem solver and in that respect, yes, a realist, if something needed doing, especially if someone needed help, he would solve the problem before other's would even notice there is one. The present with my dad was one without fear, it was just evident it would be a smooth ride, he would fix any bumps in the road. The distant past was one of few and mostly fond memories but also some deeply sad ones, that he would recall periodically. "Have I told you...", "yes yes, dad and here we go again" The future however was horrible. He knew for example he would die at 72 years. At some point he just decided that the next 30, 20, 10 years would be a long bitter waiting for that to happen. He knew he would never love or trust a woman again. He knew he would be the only decent, honest and hardworking fellow around, he knew he would find no friends at his intellectual level. He just knew. Being certain about your future is not realism, it's a form of dependency, especially if you accept unfavorable outcomes. The more precise your mind, the better you can hold your own in conversations with others, the higher your risk to close yourself into a role that you define for yourself, and I believe this role will always be badly defined. Truth be told I don't think we don't really have a choice. It takes a lot of effort and time to veer the brain into new directions and it might never be a permanent achievement. We can however make it more likely to have certain thoughts, activities, automatic behavior. We have a choice, on average, who to include in our lives, where to live, how to appear to others, what objects to surround us with, what small actions we perform, which ones we leave out. None of these things will change one's outlook on life by itself, but together over time they will. I think I was lucky. People who close themselves and become self-reliant against all odds are impressive, they are maybe even more productive, better decision makers or whatever, but they aren't better off. Sometime after I had left a home which was starting to crumble to eventually collapse in trivially human tragedy, I came across "Moise" by Alfred de Vigny. The leader, visionary or whatever is a lonely person: *"Il disait au Seigneur : « Ne finirai-je pas ?* *Où voulez-vous encor que je porte mes pas ?* *Je vivrai donc toujours puissant et solitaire ?* *Laissez-moi m’endormir du sommeil de la terre. —"* and even though I never considered myself a strong person, I was heading in that direction as well. I had a plan, passion, a mission even. As such I felt extraordinary, unique, precious and I had an uncommon life aesthetic. Most people are boring and previsible, prefer simple life and a little bit of spice which they look up under #spiceupmylife or #todobeforeyoure30 on some app. But they're human just like me, like Moise, like the greats you read about in any given textbook. And we all figure out life in some way or another, no way is universally better than another, everything is to be considered. I had always felt that but didn't know what to make with that information because for me, weird outlier that I was, a role I embraced, it was near impossible to approach others. I had to grow disappointed in myself, lower my own expectations about myself and life to make that happen. And I was lucky to meet a series of good people right when I started trying. The great and more importantly, the happy human is never alone. They are chosen by others. Some people appear impressive because they're chosen by history, by truth, or god like Moise, their strength reaps in a sense the ultimate benefit of being among the few who surpassed normal life and saw what really matters, were able to act on it. But that's not an enviable life. One might say it's somehow less impressive to make a bunch of friends and hang out, be emotional, love, have a good time. You could say associating with others brings with it the risk of losing yourself, even averaging down. But this is actually a whole different version of strength nobody talks about: to associate with others while being in control of your self-image. Not just do as the others do, not pretending to like something because friends do, no succumbing to group pressure. Recognizing that you're good with some people, that they make the version of yourself that you want to be more likely or better, and then returning the favor. In the movie "Perfect Days", Hirayama is fine on his own. He has inner strength that could be described as enlightenment. That isn't to say emotions don't get to him, quite the opposite, but he has found a place for himself that he is content with. But Hirayama while being fine on his own, is never alone. There is the goofy colleague who takes advantage of him, but who cares? A girl smiles to him in the temple garden where he eats lunch every day, the priest respectfully nods while Hirayama is taking care of a tree sapling, his family keeps contact with him on his terms (distance!) and a random person with cancer laughs with him as they play a childish game to catch each others shadow. It takes a different kind of strength to know what you need, respect others and find a middle ground, pushing and pulling until you are solidly anchored in reality, neither alone nor overridden by anybody else, just you, your memories and expectations based on what you know about yourself and a bunch of close people. And this is realism, working with known quantities that you have some degree of control over.