Kalòs Kagathós
On Mantras
“Like the winds of the sea are the winds of fate, as we voyage along through life; it's the set of the soul that decides its goal, and not the calm or the strife.”
On the Acropolis, Tod Papageorge 1983
I keep forgetting that my “self” is still mostly undiscovered territory - full of byways and backcountries that haven’t yet been mapped. Even stranger, I’m always in motion - always becoming something else. Whatever map I do have, it keeps redrawing itself. I’d love something to hold onto.
I’m not asking for permanence. When I imagine the world holding still - long enough for me to gain control over it - it feels lifeless. And when I picture a future where all of my aims have been met - where I finally exhale, satisfied that there’s nothing left to improve or strive for - it feels dead too.
What I’m looking for is a compass - something outside of the map, pointing me in the right direction. Not a fixed path - just an orientation. A sense of north that still leaves plenty of flexibility for how to get there. And maybe it’s not a single compass, maybe it’s a few - for different terrains.
This isn’t a new desire. I’ve circled around it before and found some comfort in instructive aphorisms: big worldviews in miniature. A recent favorite is “relax and be kind.” It sounds pithy, but it’s powerful. That idea applies to an overwhelming number of situations - try it, you’ll see. Yet there’s one part of my life where it doesn’t quite help: creativity. That’s the territory I’m most focused on these days, and for that, I need something else.
Kalòs Kagathós
“Beautiful and good”… a phrase used in classical Greek texts to describe the ideal of virtue, where physical beauty and moral excellence were seen as reflections of the same deeper harmony.
That’s better. That resonates. It speaks to something whole - a quality shaped from the inside out and the outside in. It suggests a devotion not only to truth (the subject), but to the form that carries it (the medium). I like it.
The question then becomes: How do I make it something that fills me up - something I can really step into? If I treat it as an aphorism, it falls flat; it stays in the head. But if I hold it as a mantra - something spoken with my whole self, heart-body-mind - the energy changes. It’s not exactly a prayer, and it’s definitely not magic. It’s more like embodied clarity, concentration and maybe a hint of allegiance.
Throughout the day, kalòs kagathós. There’s a rhythm to it.1 A steadying pulse. When things start to get blurry or strained, I’ll stop and check in: kalòs kagathós - what’s it asking of me here? Not just in what I’m making - but in how I’m making it? Too much chaos is ugly. Too much order is dim. A balance of both - like nature - is beautiful. Perfectionism is sharp. A willingness to try is smooth. Constant tension is unattractive. Comfort is always lovely.
So on and so forth…
I’ll stop the train here.
I know this is all very diary-like and specific to me, but my hope is that it echoes something in your own experience. Beneath the local color, there’s a thread you can trace to find (or fashion) a mantra that’s right for you.
The point is this: We all know what it’s like to need direction - as well as the push to follow it. Why? Because we’re human. Because we get lost. Because we forget. Because we need reminders as much as we need insight.
Sometimes all it takes is a few good words2 - a spark, a small ignition - to reconnect with the feeling that moves us along. Give yourself a little gift this morning and take a moment3 to consider yours.
Happy Sunday,
My thoughts on mantras started with a simple reel: “Stick to it.”
I find them extra stirring when they use language from a hobby or interest that speaks to me. I’m personally drawn to things that feel ancient or carry the spirit of mountaineering (“it’s attitude, not altitude”). Yours might come from gardening or pottery, computer programming or deep-sea fishing. Whatever works.
Don’t overthink it. Find something that’s roughly aligned and try it on. You’ll always be stumbling in the dark a bit - that’s life - and the next step tends to reveal itself as you’re taking it.