Since reading the first volume of “My Struggle,” in 2012, I’ve noticed the Knausgaardian rhythms in my own life. Making coffee in the morning, working out at the gym, shaving afterward, reading a book, thinking deep thoughts, writing an essay, visiting a museum, browsing in a bookstore, cleaning my desk, calling my mother. Over and over, it’s the same pattern: envision, fantasize, plan, execute, and then succeed or fail, gloat or mourn, survive to fight another day, summon up, or discover, your will again. Knausgaard sees life as built out of many small acts of will, most of them objectively meaningless, but all of them subjectively—and non-negotiably—meaningful.

From "What is The Struggle in My Struggle?"