D.T. Suzuki relates the Zen parable about a student who told his teacher that he didn't seem to be making any progress in the spiritual life. The teacher told him to place two jars of water outside his door. Each morning, he was to empty and replace one of them, but leave the other as it was, day after day.
The lesson learned is probably sufficiently clear from that.
Not unrelatedly, one of the thoughts I've had to steer my mind most firmly away from is the salary scale of my law school class year. Those who were admitted past the thresholds of the firms then are doing quite well now. For the record, my grades were quite good, my bar passage scores (self-study) quite high, and my degree first-tier. Even given this, though, the important thing is the art. To use a rapier analogy, I've kept the weapons oiled and well-practiced. A bit like a swordsman who didn't have the right connections in the world of international fencing, but still has the skill and discipline. To most minds, this keeping up the skill would seem useless and illogical.
Do the useless and illogical things. Logic, for the most part, only comes from use, and use only arises from logic. But this is true only of the usual, average path through life. If you stand outside that, you must commit yourself to the useless and illogical. If the art is true, then the art can still be good.
Despite the apparent lack of progress.
