Yesterday for Father's Day the Ravishing Mrs. TB and Na Clann indulged me for Father's Day by taking me to see John Carter. I am a great fan of the series penned by Edgar Rice Burroughs and although I had some trepidation when I heard a picture was being made (because book adaptations so seldom seem to get things right), I at least excited to see a series that I enjoyed so much growing up brought to visualization on the screen.
I left the theater in a sort of fuzzy aftershock, akin to finding out a friend you knew in high school had taken up an unusual hobby that you weren't sure was really healthy or not.
Did I enjoy the movie? Overall, yes. The scenery and recreation of the dead cities and sea bottoms of Barsoom were close to what I pictured. The representation of John Carter's ability to jump (less gravity on Barsoom, you know) was even better than I could have pictured. Woola, the Martian Hound, was a treat. The Green Men - Tharks, Warhoons - were different than my pictures of them, but there have been many different artistic interpretations of them over the years so that was not a huge obstacle. The interpretation of Barsoomian technology - fliers, weapons, buildings - was different but not all out of line with what I had seen in my mind and on the pages of the books.
Plot and characters? Ah, there's the rub.
Plot- The plot and storyline actually incorporated parts of the first three books of the John Carter series. They did what I seem to loathe in other movies: they used characters and situations from different parts of the books, added a big dollop of explanation to create conflict, and then spun it back out into the theater. The effect was disconcerting, a sort of fusion plot cuisine in which you discover that Japanese and Bulgarian cooking are not as compatible as you had first hoped.
Characters - This is where the breakdown really occurred for me. Dejah Thoris has been modified from a Princess to a "Princess-who-is-the-regent-of-the-Hall-of-Science-and-Inventor", I assume to break some kind of character mold and give greater appeal to a female audience - a strong lead (although interestingly enough, Dejah Thoris of the books never strikes you as anything but a strong female presence). Still, worse things have happened to beloved characters of my youth, so I could soldier on.
John Carter - this was the biggest problem. John Carter of the movie was a man who was bitter, who gave his allegiance to no-one after the Civil War and the death of his wife and daughter. He is man consumed with finding his treasure and is not a man of causes. It is only after great soul searching that he "suddenly" becomes devoted to a cause.
John Carter of the books was none of these things. He was a man who believed passionately in a cause, a man to whom money was useful but not required. He fought for causes - even loosing ones. He was noble and brave, not shirking the call of duty.
The movie John Carter became a hero. The book John Carter always was one.
As movies are developed, is there an incessant need to feel that characters need to be redeveloped? If so, why? Because they're dated (hardly the case for John Carter I think, as his books continue to sell)? Because writers like the name and not the character and so are trying to cheat moviegoers into coming to see that which they think they know, a sort of mask of a person without the person behind them? Or is it that in creating a character they are really creating what they themselves view the society in which they write needs are wants: that a man of heroic proportions and single minded purpose either no longer exists or should not, that such a man has been replaced by the man of profit and no causes?
Deep thoughts for a two hour afternoon movie, I know. But it left me with one question: if a book is popular because of what it is, what sense does it make to change it to make a movie? Is it hubris on the part of the writers that they know better than the author? Or simply that if something does not conform to a world view, it's easier to write differently than to confront the outstanding issues in our own souls?
Monday, June 18, 2012
Friday, June 15, 2012
Motivation and Mediocrity II
The whole question of motivation lingered in my mind yesterday after I wrote my post and continued about my day. The issues I wrote about were the same ones I confronted at work - bottom line, why is it that so few are motivated to be self-initiating and will only respond to outside influences?
The question came up last night with Bogha Frois in phone call. Her lament mirrored my own earlier one: why is that some people are simply content to put in the minimum of effort - except when pushed by others? Why aren't more people self-motivated - and self motivated to do well?
Motivation, in case you were wondering, is either "The act, process, or condition of being motivated" or "a motivating force, stimulus, or influence". (Thank you Merriam-Webster.)
Okay, that's a definition I can start with. A motivating force, stimulus, or influence. Interestingly, it doesn't say whether that force is internal or external, just that it is.
So now we've got something to work with: A force/stimulus/influence, internal or external, which motivates.
Motivates? Back to Merriam-Webster: "To provide with a motive; impel". Fine, then - Motive?: "Something that causes someone to act."
So motivation is really nothing more than something that causes someone to act. It's a neutral thing. It can come internally or externally. But motive as a cause has an effect - it causes an action.
The question then becomes "Why don't more people seem to have something which causes them to act from the inside, rather than having to be externally caused to act from the outside?" There's the nut that, if someone could crack, could lead to one of the greatest explosions of creativity and industry in the history of the world.
Back to the practical. What causes you to act? What causes me to act? Can it be discovered in others and fanned into flame? Or is it something which we all must discover on our own? Are motivations, like our secret selves, something only we and we alone can truly find - and change?
The question came up last night with Bogha Frois in phone call. Her lament mirrored my own earlier one: why is that some people are simply content to put in the minimum of effort - except when pushed by others? Why aren't more people self-motivated - and self motivated to do well?
Motivation, in case you were wondering, is either "The act, process, or condition of being motivated" or "a motivating force, stimulus, or influence". (Thank you Merriam-Webster.)
Okay, that's a definition I can start with. A motivating force, stimulus, or influence. Interestingly, it doesn't say whether that force is internal or external, just that it is.
So now we've got something to work with: A force/stimulus/influence, internal or external, which motivates.
Motivates? Back to Merriam-Webster: "To provide with a motive; impel". Fine, then - Motive?: "Something that causes someone to act."
So motivation is really nothing more than something that causes someone to act. It's a neutral thing. It can come internally or externally. But motive as a cause has an effect - it causes an action.
The question then becomes "Why don't more people seem to have something which causes them to act from the inside, rather than having to be externally caused to act from the outside?" There's the nut that, if someone could crack, could lead to one of the greatest explosions of creativity and industry in the history of the world.
Back to the practical. What causes you to act? What causes me to act? Can it be discovered in others and fanned into flame? Or is it something which we all must discover on our own? Are motivations, like our secret selves, something only we and we alone can truly find - and change?
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Motivation and Mediocrity
I was having a conversation with a colleague yesterday concerning a number of things, including creating items (business aides) for them to use to comply with our systems. I confess I'm a bit less generous than he is, and made the case that while tools can be provided if they're not used that's not my fault. We continued into the discussion about responsibility of individuals versus the responsibility of those providing compliance oversight provide everything to make that happen, including make things very easy (i.e. "spoon feeding"). Finally, asked why I though some areas were not improving, I simply said "They don't care. People don't care. And until they do, things won't really get better."
I buried the thought and continued on through my day until, finishing up my post-lunch lemonade, I found the following quote from Andrew Carnegie:
"People unable to motivate themselves must be content with mediocrity."
Poof. Epiphany.
It's certainly true that without motivation people may accomplish something, but it sure won't be much are or of good quality. It's equally true that self motivation is far more productive than motivation enforced from above - also known as "fear" or "command structure". The question is, where does that self motivation - the best kind, the most product - come from?
I think it comes from one of two places. The first place is the motivation for self - that what I am doing will ultimately benefit me in some way and I can see the way that it will benefit me. This is why people work at low-paying jobs to do the things they love or workout when it's convenient or not, because they see the ultimate good.
The other place is the motivation of others - that what I am doing is ultimately going to benefit someone else and I can see the way that it will benefit them. This again can be as simple as working at something I don't love to support my family or doing something that is tedious and thankless because it serves a larger purpose, such as cooking a meal for someone who needs it or enforcing regulations to make sure a product that is supposed to help someone is well made.
There is an alternative, as Carnegie puts it, one that many people are simply not willing to acknowledge but is arguably as expected as the law of gravity: if you can't or won't self motivate, there is only one other option: mediocrity. And this mediocrity you must be content with - if you will not work with the one, you will have the other.
So here's the question, a question that as I think about it I'm sure companies, corporation, teams and governments have asked throughout history: how do we get those who are under us to motivate themselves?
It's a good question. People who are motivated are generally better workers, more careful workers, and more driven workers. Even if what they are doing is not directly related to the source of their motivation, they do what they do because of that motivation.
(And when I use worker I use it in the largest sense possible: you can substitute creators, volunteers, parents, etc. It's doing anything that relates to the motivation).
What's your motivation? What's mine? If we don't know, if we can't verbalize it and understand, we are almost certainly doomed to mediocrity - and this is something we can only blame ourselves for.
I buried the thought and continued on through my day until, finishing up my post-lunch lemonade, I found the following quote from Andrew Carnegie:
"People unable to motivate themselves must be content with mediocrity."
Poof. Epiphany.
It's certainly true that without motivation people may accomplish something, but it sure won't be much are or of good quality. It's equally true that self motivation is far more productive than motivation enforced from above - also known as "fear" or "command structure". The question is, where does that self motivation - the best kind, the most product - come from?
I think it comes from one of two places. The first place is the motivation for self - that what I am doing will ultimately benefit me in some way and I can see the way that it will benefit me. This is why people work at low-paying jobs to do the things they love or workout when it's convenient or not, because they see the ultimate good.
The other place is the motivation of others - that what I am doing is ultimately going to benefit someone else and I can see the way that it will benefit them. This again can be as simple as working at something I don't love to support my family or doing something that is tedious and thankless because it serves a larger purpose, such as cooking a meal for someone who needs it or enforcing regulations to make sure a product that is supposed to help someone is well made.
There is an alternative, as Carnegie puts it, one that many people are simply not willing to acknowledge but is arguably as expected as the law of gravity: if you can't or won't self motivate, there is only one other option: mediocrity. And this mediocrity you must be content with - if you will not work with the one, you will have the other.
So here's the question, a question that as I think about it I'm sure companies, corporation, teams and governments have asked throughout history: how do we get those who are under us to motivate themselves?
It's a good question. People who are motivated are generally better workers, more careful workers, and more driven workers. Even if what they are doing is not directly related to the source of their motivation, they do what they do because of that motivation.
(And when I use worker I use it in the largest sense possible: you can substitute creators, volunteers, parents, etc. It's doing anything that relates to the motivation).
What's your motivation? What's mine? If we don't know, if we can't verbalize it and understand, we are almost certainly doomed to mediocrity - and this is something we can only blame ourselves for.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Conversations
How much time do we spend on the fluff of life?
I'm calling to mind a conversation I had yesterday. Someone I've known a long time. It's one of those moments where, halfway in, you suddenly realize that your doing all the talking about things and they have revealed nothing about themselves or how they are doing - and they seem okay with that.
I understand that we don't necessarily want or need to know everything about everyone's life (although some strangers seem intent on sharing it with us), but for those that are close to us, who know us, we too often seem to spend time talking about nothing instead of the serious aspects of life. We play at having conversations, not realizing that those who know us are better than any other at evaluating us.
Is it boundary setting? Is it the unconscious admission that those who know us best have the ability to hurt us the most? Or is it nothing that simple, more of a simple fear that we don't want to talk about some things because we don't want to be challenged or hear words that make us examine ourselves?
Let's be fair - I'm as bad as anyone about this. How many times have I turned the conversation to well worn gags and old phrases rather than the things that need to be said because I'm not ready to deal with something?
It occurs to me that to truly have meaningful conversations, one has to be hungry to grow. To learn. To become knowledgeable - about self, about others, about anything. But one has to be hungry - so hungry to grow, to embrace excellence (not perfection of course, because we'll never be there this side of Heaven), to become the best we can be that we are willing to hear the hard words, to think the challenging thoughts, to risk coming out of the shell of preprogrammed conversations into the light of knowledge.
Are we that hungry?
I'm calling to mind a conversation I had yesterday. Someone I've known a long time. It's one of those moments where, halfway in, you suddenly realize that your doing all the talking about things and they have revealed nothing about themselves or how they are doing - and they seem okay with that.
I understand that we don't necessarily want or need to know everything about everyone's life (although some strangers seem intent on sharing it with us), but for those that are close to us, who know us, we too often seem to spend time talking about nothing instead of the serious aspects of life. We play at having conversations, not realizing that those who know us are better than any other at evaluating us.
Is it boundary setting? Is it the unconscious admission that those who know us best have the ability to hurt us the most? Or is it nothing that simple, more of a simple fear that we don't want to talk about some things because we don't want to be challenged or hear words that make us examine ourselves?
Let's be fair - I'm as bad as anyone about this. How many times have I turned the conversation to well worn gags and old phrases rather than the things that need to be said because I'm not ready to deal with something?
It occurs to me that to truly have meaningful conversations, one has to be hungry to grow. To learn. To become knowledgeable - about self, about others, about anything. But one has to be hungry - so hungry to grow, to embrace excellence (not perfection of course, because we'll never be there this side of Heaven), to become the best we can be that we are willing to hear the hard words, to think the challenging thoughts, to risk coming out of the shell of preprogrammed conversations into the light of knowledge.
Are we that hungry?
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Sparring
I am not very good at confrontation.
I'm not sure why this is. It's not as if I have problems dealing with people - certainly I make it a point to try to build good relationships with others. But when it comes to confrontation, to confronting the very hard issues, I always seem to find myself unable to effectively do it.
Why? Is it because I feel that disagreement is like anger and not helpful? Is it because I empathize too much with being on the disagreed side? Is it because I have ingrained into myself that I should always be humble, and humble means letting others have the upper hand? Not sure - I only know that I'm not good at it.
It happened again yesterday with a colleague. The conversation went something like this:
"I see we've dropped out X." (colleague)
"Yes, yes we have." (Me)
"Why? It was useful."
"Because it's going to be duplicated and I don't really have the resources to put one in each thing. We're the one's that will have to do it."
"We'll see."
And so I sit in my office, feeling slightly defensive and upset about actually saying "No" to someone.
But as I sat and thought about it, I realized I had the same problem with sparring.
Sparring, in Iaido, is not the typical full scale armored sparring of Kendo (although we do some of that as well). Instead, it's practicing cuts and blocks with a partner. What I have noticed over the last three years of doing this is I'm not the best sparring partner. Why? Because I tend to be more concerned about hurting the other person unintentionally than I am about making sure I get the cut or block correct.
It's easier, of course, if I am with someone whom I know their ability - but for someone who is unknown, I tend to compensate on one side rather than the other. More important not to hurt than to get the cut right.
Then I realized they're no different.
Concern about the other party has to be paramount of course - in life as in Iaido (and isn't all life Iaido?), wantonly waving a sword around is as harmful as flinging words like grenades. But neither should one overpower the other: being kind to a killer will get you killed, just as being less than fair to yourself means that you will constantly let others determine the course of your day - and your life.
Will it mean that I suddenly become more powerful and less avoiding of confrontation? No more than it means I'll start smack people on the heads if their nigashi blocks are not effective. But at least I'm now aware.
And awareness is the first step to addressing the problem.
I'm not sure why this is. It's not as if I have problems dealing with people - certainly I make it a point to try to build good relationships with others. But when it comes to confrontation, to confronting the very hard issues, I always seem to find myself unable to effectively do it.
Why? Is it because I feel that disagreement is like anger and not helpful? Is it because I empathize too much with being on the disagreed side? Is it because I have ingrained into myself that I should always be humble, and humble means letting others have the upper hand? Not sure - I only know that I'm not good at it.
It happened again yesterday with a colleague. The conversation went something like this:
"I see we've dropped out X." (colleague)
"Yes, yes we have." (Me)
"Why? It was useful."
"Because it's going to be duplicated and I don't really have the resources to put one in each thing. We're the one's that will have to do it."
"We'll see."
And so I sit in my office, feeling slightly defensive and upset about actually saying "No" to someone.
But as I sat and thought about it, I realized I had the same problem with sparring.
Sparring, in Iaido, is not the typical full scale armored sparring of Kendo (although we do some of that as well). Instead, it's practicing cuts and blocks with a partner. What I have noticed over the last three years of doing this is I'm not the best sparring partner. Why? Because I tend to be more concerned about hurting the other person unintentionally than I am about making sure I get the cut or block correct.
It's easier, of course, if I am with someone whom I know their ability - but for someone who is unknown, I tend to compensate on one side rather than the other. More important not to hurt than to get the cut right.
Then I realized they're no different.
Concern about the other party has to be paramount of course - in life as in Iaido (and isn't all life Iaido?), wantonly waving a sword around is as harmful as flinging words like grenades. But neither should one overpower the other: being kind to a killer will get you killed, just as being less than fair to yourself means that you will constantly let others determine the course of your day - and your life.
Will it mean that I suddenly become more powerful and less avoiding of confrontation? No more than it means I'll start smack people on the heads if their nigashi blocks are not effective. But at least I'm now aware.
And awareness is the first step to addressing the problem.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Looking for the Answer in the Wrong Question
As regular readers of this blog know, I'm a little bit frustrated with my current line of work. It's not specifically the job itself but the career path I seem to have chosen. It's not a bad career path at all - in fact, it's allowed me to do many things I would not have otherwise done - but the older I get and the longer I'm in the field (this is my 15th year), the more trapped I feel.
One solution, of course, is to explore other options. But this hasn't been the raging success I thought it would be either. Times are tough all over - my industry is no different - and there are plenty of skilled people out there that are looking for work. I also wonder in my heart of hearts if I've reached the level I'm going to reach - after all, I'm a non-industry professional in an industry of professionals. At some point, perhaps explanations and rationalizations simply don't work as they used to.
Yesterday I had the unmitigated privilege of working again on my book - in this case, cover design and final drafting. Cover design is a wonderful thing if you have the tools (and thanks to technology, even I have the tools to do it). The day was only marred by a random error in file conversion I can't quite figure out -but this, too, will happen in time (and that time will pretty much be today!).
As I compared the two things in my mind this morning - getting ready for the one while anticipating the other - I suddenly was hit by the thought that maybe the reason I'm not finding success in what I do is not the reason I thought it was. Maybe it's that I'm looking for the answer in the wrong place.
Do not misconstrue what I'm saying - by no means do I believe that upon publishing my manuscript will become anything like a bestseller and I'll be able to quite my day job (nice to dream, of course, but let's be practical). I'll simply be happy if I make back my investment.
But what it will do for me is twofold: 1) It will be the accomplishment of a long time goal; and 2) if I sell one copy - one - I will have proved to myself that I can do it. I can be a writer. And more importantly, the time I invest in writing and creating books may very well be better spent than the time I spending looking for something else.
Maybe - possibly - the answer is not coming here because it is over somewhere else.
I'll keep working hard of course, and trying to improve my current career skills - after all, better the bird in hand. But I also need to allow for the possibility that the answer I am seeking is not where I'm looking at all. It may actually be behind me in the box I keep of the things I thought I could never do.
One solution, of course, is to explore other options. But this hasn't been the raging success I thought it would be either. Times are tough all over - my industry is no different - and there are plenty of skilled people out there that are looking for work. I also wonder in my heart of hearts if I've reached the level I'm going to reach - after all, I'm a non-industry professional in an industry of professionals. At some point, perhaps explanations and rationalizations simply don't work as they used to.
Yesterday I had the unmitigated privilege of working again on my book - in this case, cover design and final drafting. Cover design is a wonderful thing if you have the tools (and thanks to technology, even I have the tools to do it). The day was only marred by a random error in file conversion I can't quite figure out -but this, too, will happen in time (and that time will pretty much be today!).
As I compared the two things in my mind this morning - getting ready for the one while anticipating the other - I suddenly was hit by the thought that maybe the reason I'm not finding success in what I do is not the reason I thought it was. Maybe it's that I'm looking for the answer in the wrong place.
Do not misconstrue what I'm saying - by no means do I believe that upon publishing my manuscript will become anything like a bestseller and I'll be able to quite my day job (nice to dream, of course, but let's be practical). I'll simply be happy if I make back my investment.
But what it will do for me is twofold: 1) It will be the accomplishment of a long time goal; and 2) if I sell one copy - one - I will have proved to myself that I can do it. I can be a writer. And more importantly, the time I invest in writing and creating books may very well be better spent than the time I spending looking for something else.
Maybe - possibly - the answer is not coming here because it is over somewhere else.
I'll keep working hard of course, and trying to improve my current career skills - after all, better the bird in hand. But I also need to allow for the possibility that the answer I am seeking is not where I'm looking at all. It may actually be behind me in the box I keep of the things I thought I could never do.
Friday, June 08, 2012
Verbal Spam Filter
So my posting to my friendly neighborhood spammers (located here) three weeks ago was not as successful as I might have been hoping for. Sure, I was not anticipating a sudden cessation of all spamming activity, but at least a lessening of it. I was disappointed to learn that was not the case.
So I went the next step up to moderating comments. This was not an improvement either, as it continued to keep the spam comments out the regular stream - but I had to continue to delete them on a daily basis.
Then, out of desperation, I did the one thing I typically hate doing on other sites: I required typing in a character recognition to make sure that an individual was entering them. Suddenly, all the spam went away.
This has been quite a relief. Yes, I know it's a minor annoyance, but it's the principle of the thing that makes the absence of it all the better.
Why do I write about this? Because I realized yesterday that I am exposed to a lot of verbal spam as well - and I sure wish I could block it.
Verbal spam? The things people say that are not at all related to anything. The things said to shock, or occasionally hurt. And certainly, the things said to remind one that you are lesser than others.
Wouldn't it be convenient to have the equivalent of a verbal spam filter - something you could simply throw up around your ears and verify the nature of the communication before it comes through? Would it change the situation - no, possibly not at all.
But at least, like with my visual spam, it would give simple sigh of relief - and unburden our spirits from a great deal of verbal information that we're better without.
So I went the next step up to moderating comments. This was not an improvement either, as it continued to keep the spam comments out the regular stream - but I had to continue to delete them on a daily basis.
Then, out of desperation, I did the one thing I typically hate doing on other sites: I required typing in a character recognition to make sure that an individual was entering them. Suddenly, all the spam went away.
This has been quite a relief. Yes, I know it's a minor annoyance, but it's the principle of the thing that makes the absence of it all the better.
Why do I write about this? Because I realized yesterday that I am exposed to a lot of verbal spam as well - and I sure wish I could block it.
Verbal spam? The things people say that are not at all related to anything. The things said to shock, or occasionally hurt. And certainly, the things said to remind one that you are lesser than others.
Wouldn't it be convenient to have the equivalent of a verbal spam filter - something you could simply throw up around your ears and verify the nature of the communication before it comes through? Would it change the situation - no, possibly not at all.
But at least, like with my visual spam, it would give simple sigh of relief - and unburden our spirits from a great deal of verbal information that we're better without.
Thursday, June 07, 2012
Lurching Forward
Somewhere yesterday, between getting in the car to go to work and getting home, I made the mental commitment that I was going to finish getting my book ready for print.
I went through and did my last check of the fifth draft. Today I'll convert it to the approved template, print it tomorrow, and then do another edit job. At least one more print out draft and edit then upload, leaving only the cover to design the marketing plan to finish.
It's curious, as if I reflect on things it's not often I make this kind of commitment and (apparently) am going to see it through. What changed? Certainly not the drive to work or my environment, nor virtually anything else about my life.
Except remembering a gift from Uisdean Ruadh.
A year or two ago I received a package from him in the mail. Upon opening it, I found a medal issued to commemorate World War II. On one side is a figure of Victory in front of the sunset with the words "World War II". On the back in an outer circle is "United States of America 1941-1945"; in the middle are the Four Freedoms of Roosevelt: "Freedom from Fear and Want; Freedom of Speech and Religion." In asking him about it, he said that he had sent it to me as a reminder that as hard as things seemed to be (in his life and my own), they were not nearly as hard as the men who fought in World War II.
I have kept the medal at my bedside since then but not really thought of it - until (because yesterday was June 6th - D-Day), it leapt out at my mind. Surely, the thought came, if men could willing hurl themselves up beaches into withering fire, I can at least accept responsibility for making my own commitments and own life, even if it meant not getting a little bit of sleep.
I'm not going to say I've totally climbed that hill yet - but I've decided to start taking the medal with me where I go, to work or at my writing desk or wherever, as a continued reminder that whatever what I am called to do, it's more manageable that the last sounds of the boat ramp dropping and the surf rolling in as the firing starts.
I went through and did my last check of the fifth draft. Today I'll convert it to the approved template, print it tomorrow, and then do another edit job. At least one more print out draft and edit then upload, leaving only the cover to design the marketing plan to finish.
It's curious, as if I reflect on things it's not often I make this kind of commitment and (apparently) am going to see it through. What changed? Certainly not the drive to work or my environment, nor virtually anything else about my life.
Except remembering a gift from Uisdean Ruadh.
A year or two ago I received a package from him in the mail. Upon opening it, I found a medal issued to commemorate World War II. On one side is a figure of Victory in front of the sunset with the words "World War II". On the back in an outer circle is "United States of America 1941-1945"; in the middle are the Four Freedoms of Roosevelt: "Freedom from Fear and Want; Freedom of Speech and Religion." In asking him about it, he said that he had sent it to me as a reminder that as hard as things seemed to be (in his life and my own), they were not nearly as hard as the men who fought in World War II.
I have kept the medal at my bedside since then but not really thought of it - until (because yesterday was June 6th - D-Day), it leapt out at my mind. Surely, the thought came, if men could willing hurl themselves up beaches into withering fire, I can at least accept responsibility for making my own commitments and own life, even if it meant not getting a little bit of sleep.
I'm not going to say I've totally climbed that hill yet - but I've decided to start taking the medal with me where I go, to work or at my writing desk or wherever, as a continued reminder that whatever what I am called to do, it's more manageable that the last sounds of the boat ramp dropping and the surf rolling in as the firing starts.
Wednesday, June 06, 2012
A Note From Motivation
I'm having problems finding my motivational mojo.
I'm a little unclear precisely where the darn thing went. There were actually signs of it hanging around over the last three weeks - yet strangely, it seems to have traveled to somewhere I can't quite locate. Interestingly, it did leave me note last Sunday (about the time it seems to have disappeared)
"Dear Mr. TB:
This is a note to let you know that I'll be taking a few days off. Simply put, I need a mental health day or three. I won't be checking voice mail or e-mail. Please see Imagination or Hope for any critical issues.
Thanks, Motivation"
I checked in with Imagination and Hope. No luck there. Imagination was off somewhere maundering about the actual facts of my life versus what it wanted, and Hope simply had a sign on the door saying "End of pay period - please do not disturb".
The last conversation I had with Motivation was around Saturday or so, when we finished making cheese. He was remarkably quiet that day, responding in monosyllables to my excitement about how the cheese was turning out. The one sentence I recall was when I made a comment about the next kind of cheese we could make - his response was short "Cheese? With the complete sameness of your life, all you can talk about is cheese?"
The note followed the day later.
I keep hoping he comes back - but even if he does, what will I say to him?
I'm a little unclear precisely where the darn thing went. There were actually signs of it hanging around over the last three weeks - yet strangely, it seems to have traveled to somewhere I can't quite locate. Interestingly, it did leave me note last Sunday (about the time it seems to have disappeared)
"Dear Mr. TB:
This is a note to let you know that I'll be taking a few days off. Simply put, I need a mental health day or three. I won't be checking voice mail or e-mail. Please see Imagination or Hope for any critical issues.
Thanks, Motivation"
I checked in with Imagination and Hope. No luck there. Imagination was off somewhere maundering about the actual facts of my life versus what it wanted, and Hope simply had a sign on the door saying "End of pay period - please do not disturb".
The last conversation I had with Motivation was around Saturday or so, when we finished making cheese. He was remarkably quiet that day, responding in monosyllables to my excitement about how the cheese was turning out. The one sentence I recall was when I made a comment about the next kind of cheese we could make - his response was short "Cheese? With the complete sameness of your life, all you can talk about is cheese?"
The note followed the day later.
I keep hoping he comes back - but even if he does, what will I say to him?
Tuesday, June 05, 2012
Paneled Houses, Ruined Temple
"In the second year of king Darius, in the sixth month, on the first day, the word of the Lord came by Haggai the prophet to Zerubabbel the son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah and Joshua the son of Jehozadak, the high priest, saying "Thus speaks the LORD of hosts saying 'This people says "The time has not come, the time that the LORD's house should be built.'"
Then the word of the Lord came by Haggai the prophet, saying 'Is it a time for you yourselves to dwell in your paneled houses and this temple to lie in ruins?'" - Haggai 1: 1-3
One of my resolutions this year was to work on memorizing three books of the Bible. I have finished my first one - Titus - and moved on to the Old Testament. I chose Haggai because because 1) I've taught on it before, and 2) It's short (38 verses).
As I began on Haggai, the above three verses leaped out at me.
Why? Because so often I have found myself saying the exact same thing. Oh, it's not that the Lord's temple needs to be built (Old Testament stuff, of course). But in my own life, how much is there that God has called us - me - to do?
Interestingly, although works do not save us, God has plenty to say about what we should be about - not just in our attitudes but in our actions. He does have the expectation that I will be about building up His kingdom through actions in my family, my circle of influence and my world.
But how often do I say "Oh, the time has not come"? More than I probably should.
My intentions are, I'm sure, seemingly justifiable: I'm already so busy and there's so much to do. I'm sure if God really wanted me to be doing something, He'd make it self evident that's what I should be doing.
But God doesn't necessarily see it that way - it's not a question of time, it's a question of importance.
Surely the Israelites were busy too - rebuilding a ruined city in a conquered land, worrying about protection from enemies, struggling to get crops in. It's that they apparently found the time to build paneled houses - houses that were paneled with cedar, or houses that were improved, a sort of 5th Century B.C. home upgrade - but could find no time to rebuild God's temple. I'm sure if you asked them they too would have said "We're so busy just trying to stay alive. Sure, we have some fruits of our labor from that, but we're still really busy, and I'm sure God doesn't mind. Yes, I know God wants His temple rebuilt but after all, He hasn't given us a clear sign in a long time - I mean, we had to stop 16 years ago and He never really said "Start" - and we're so busy trying to stay alive. Whoops - if you'll pardon me, the paneling oiling and house cleaning service is here. Need to go let them in."
God's response "Is it a time for you" suggests He doesn't see it that way at all. He turns their words against them - Not just "The time has not come" but implied "The time has not come for you (because you're too busy about yourselves), the time that the LORD's house should be rebuilt - but is it time for you to build your own lives and neglect Me?"
If the focus is there - building God's kingdom instead of our own - how do we fare? How do I? Or am I too busy putting in my own panels to realize that the time to do God's will is always first and always now?
Then the word of the Lord came by Haggai the prophet, saying 'Is it a time for you yourselves to dwell in your paneled houses and this temple to lie in ruins?'" - Haggai 1: 1-3
One of my resolutions this year was to work on memorizing three books of the Bible. I have finished my first one - Titus - and moved on to the Old Testament. I chose Haggai because because 1) I've taught on it before, and 2) It's short (38 verses).
As I began on Haggai, the above three verses leaped out at me.
Why? Because so often I have found myself saying the exact same thing. Oh, it's not that the Lord's temple needs to be built (Old Testament stuff, of course). But in my own life, how much is there that God has called us - me - to do?
Interestingly, although works do not save us, God has plenty to say about what we should be about - not just in our attitudes but in our actions. He does have the expectation that I will be about building up His kingdom through actions in my family, my circle of influence and my world.
But how often do I say "Oh, the time has not come"? More than I probably should.
My intentions are, I'm sure, seemingly justifiable: I'm already so busy and there's so much to do. I'm sure if God really wanted me to be doing something, He'd make it self evident that's what I should be doing.
But God doesn't necessarily see it that way - it's not a question of time, it's a question of importance.
Surely the Israelites were busy too - rebuilding a ruined city in a conquered land, worrying about protection from enemies, struggling to get crops in. It's that they apparently found the time to build paneled houses - houses that were paneled with cedar, or houses that were improved, a sort of 5th Century B.C. home upgrade - but could find no time to rebuild God's temple. I'm sure if you asked them they too would have said "We're so busy just trying to stay alive. Sure, we have some fruits of our labor from that, but we're still really busy, and I'm sure God doesn't mind. Yes, I know God wants His temple rebuilt but after all, He hasn't given us a clear sign in a long time - I mean, we had to stop 16 years ago and He never really said "Start" - and we're so busy trying to stay alive. Whoops - if you'll pardon me, the paneling oiling and house cleaning service is here. Need to go let them in."
God's response "Is it a time for you" suggests He doesn't see it that way at all. He turns their words against them - Not just "The time has not come" but implied "The time has not come for you (because you're too busy about yourselves), the time that the LORD's house should be rebuilt - but is it time for you to build your own lives and neglect Me?"
If the focus is there - building God's kingdom instead of our own - how do we fare? How do I? Or am I too busy putting in my own panels to realize that the time to do God's will is always first and always now?
Monday, June 04, 2012
Three Years
Yesterday was my three year anniversary of moving to New Home.
Interestingly, The Ravishing Mrs. TB and I were discussing this very weekend the fact that overall, this move has been good. Na Clann have really blossomed in their school and their activities. The Ravishing Mrs. TB has made new friends, become heavily involved in Girl Scouts and the girls' school and was able to find a part time job to accommodate this. We are involved in a good church. We have a plethora of animals that we probably never would have had if we had not moved.
The only less than desirable thing, honestly, has been how my career has worked out.
I idly wonder, in off moments, about what would have been. What if I had not made the leap to the company that went out of business, that I was still working where I had worked. I'm pretty sure I would still have a job - but I would also have the 1.5 hour commute in the morning and 2 hour commute in the afternoon, all with gas prices about 1/3 again what I was paying before I left. Yes, we would still have our house (but be terribly underwater) and yes, we would be much nearer our family - but the other opportunities might not be there, and I'm not sure my career would be any better than what it is now.
So how do I evaluate the impact of the move? Good for everyone else? Okay for me? If the reverse were true - good for me, not so good for everyone else - would that make it justifiably better?
I suppose, on the whole, the correct view to take is the since everyone seems to be doing well, we view it as a package, not with its individual components. Everyone is doing well - and I'm doing okay - so overall it's a good thing.
The fact that I have these curious longing and faint sighings are, I suppose, such a thing that need only be borne by myself.
Interestingly, The Ravishing Mrs. TB and I were discussing this very weekend the fact that overall, this move has been good. Na Clann have really blossomed in their school and their activities. The Ravishing Mrs. TB has made new friends, become heavily involved in Girl Scouts and the girls' school and was able to find a part time job to accommodate this. We are involved in a good church. We have a plethora of animals that we probably never would have had if we had not moved.
The only less than desirable thing, honestly, has been how my career has worked out.
I idly wonder, in off moments, about what would have been. What if I had not made the leap to the company that went out of business, that I was still working where I had worked. I'm pretty sure I would still have a job - but I would also have the 1.5 hour commute in the morning and 2 hour commute in the afternoon, all with gas prices about 1/3 again what I was paying before I left. Yes, we would still have our house (but be terribly underwater) and yes, we would be much nearer our family - but the other opportunities might not be there, and I'm not sure my career would be any better than what it is now.
So how do I evaluate the impact of the move? Good for everyone else? Okay for me? If the reverse were true - good for me, not so good for everyone else - would that make it justifiably better?
I suppose, on the whole, the correct view to take is the since everyone seems to be doing well, we view it as a package, not with its individual components. Everyone is doing well - and I'm doing okay - so overall it's a good thing.
The fact that I have these curious longing and faint sighings are, I suppose, such a thing that need only be borne by myself.
Friday, June 01, 2012
Control and Attitude
How do I deal with the fact that I don't - really don't - control most of my life?
I pondered this thought late into the day last night, brought on by a conversation I did not intend to have from someone I did not expect. The conversation was on my attitude - which at work could be marginally said to be somewhat less than positive - but the thought followed me home long after I left. Why am I so often negative? Why do I do the things that I do?
As I continued to roll the conversation around in my mind, what I came to find is that I really, really perceive myself to have very little control over the things in my life. So much of what I do seems to mandated - by my responsibilities, by the decisions of people above me, by people around me doing their own things.
For the purposes of analyzing my attitude, I sat down and made a list of what I actually could control at work. The list was much smaller than I imagined, and seemingly lacked any impact. I listed that I could control:
- My attitude
- My responses
- My work output
- My personal adherence to the rules and regulations
- My education about my work
That's it. It's not a very spectacular list, and you'll be quick to note that there's not one thing there about any particular item, activity, or program. That's because I don't really control those either, even as I don't (and have never) controlled the direction of anywhere I've worked, the decisions that are made, or the future of the company.
What does my response seem to be? Go for those things I perceive I can control, which is generally my attitude (often not good) and eating. Eating? Because it's the one thing I can completely choose to do or not.
So how do I confront this? It's pretty clear - if I'm willing to take a long hard look at myself - that it does need to be changed, if for no other reason than this will eventually do me in.
The problem I seem to confront is it's as if I'm throwing everything down a rat hole. I literally have no expectation or belief that 100% really does anything - when your job function is described as performing "thankless tasks" and what you do scarcely translates into the only sorts of recognition available, you tend to lose any confidence that more effort makes a difference.
But in theory, that's where the Christian work ethic should be different. God clearly speaks about how we should work (let that "Do all things without grumbling or complaining" of Philippians 2:14 sink in for awhile), and having reviewed them again last night there's nothing there that talks about any sense of doing things based on your sense of control. I'm told to obedient to my employers with all respect, to be well pleasing in all things, not responding poorly, not stealing, showing all good fidelity, doing things well whether someone is watching or not, as if I was working for God (and again, the no grumbling or complaining thing). You'll notice these speak to attitude, responses, output, how I work, and how I equip myself to work - surprisingly the same as the list above.
And the result? This for me is the terrifying part: leave it up to God.
I have problems processing this.
This feels like the ultimate abandonment: to simply give up any expectation of any result and continue to work on the things I can control, giving 100% every day with no anticipation that it will control anything or lead to anything greater, because that is what God commands me to do. Any reward, any greater control or arena of service, will be totally up to Him.
(On a side note, it should probably bother me that this feels so much like dying when it's such a little thing compared to the actual problems that people face every day: cancer, death, hunger, even the simple fact of not having a job and wanting one.)
But there is one fact buried in all of that: if I do that, at least I am working on those things I can control. If I want control, it's there for the taking - just not on the things that I feel matter.
But how long into a career - or life - can someone go constantly chasing the control they can never have without eventually destroying the very things that they could control? And how much longer would it take until the very fabric of their life and personality is also impacted?
And if it was, would we know?
I pondered this thought late into the day last night, brought on by a conversation I did not intend to have from someone I did not expect. The conversation was on my attitude - which at work could be marginally said to be somewhat less than positive - but the thought followed me home long after I left. Why am I so often negative? Why do I do the things that I do?
As I continued to roll the conversation around in my mind, what I came to find is that I really, really perceive myself to have very little control over the things in my life. So much of what I do seems to mandated - by my responsibilities, by the decisions of people above me, by people around me doing their own things.
For the purposes of analyzing my attitude, I sat down and made a list of what I actually could control at work. The list was much smaller than I imagined, and seemingly lacked any impact. I listed that I could control:
- My attitude
- My responses
- My work output
- My personal adherence to the rules and regulations
- My education about my work
That's it. It's not a very spectacular list, and you'll be quick to note that there's not one thing there about any particular item, activity, or program. That's because I don't really control those either, even as I don't (and have never) controlled the direction of anywhere I've worked, the decisions that are made, or the future of the company.
What does my response seem to be? Go for those things I perceive I can control, which is generally my attitude (often not good) and eating. Eating? Because it's the one thing I can completely choose to do or not.
So how do I confront this? It's pretty clear - if I'm willing to take a long hard look at myself - that it does need to be changed, if for no other reason than this will eventually do me in.
The problem I seem to confront is it's as if I'm throwing everything down a rat hole. I literally have no expectation or belief that 100% really does anything - when your job function is described as performing "thankless tasks" and what you do scarcely translates into the only sorts of recognition available, you tend to lose any confidence that more effort makes a difference.
But in theory, that's where the Christian work ethic should be different. God clearly speaks about how we should work (let that "Do all things without grumbling or complaining" of Philippians 2:14 sink in for awhile), and having reviewed them again last night there's nothing there that talks about any sense of doing things based on your sense of control. I'm told to obedient to my employers with all respect, to be well pleasing in all things, not responding poorly, not stealing, showing all good fidelity, doing things well whether someone is watching or not, as if I was working for God (and again, the no grumbling or complaining thing). You'll notice these speak to attitude, responses, output, how I work, and how I equip myself to work - surprisingly the same as the list above.
And the result? This for me is the terrifying part: leave it up to God.
I have problems processing this.
This feels like the ultimate abandonment: to simply give up any expectation of any result and continue to work on the things I can control, giving 100% every day with no anticipation that it will control anything or lead to anything greater, because that is what God commands me to do. Any reward, any greater control or arena of service, will be totally up to Him.
(On a side note, it should probably bother me that this feels so much like dying when it's such a little thing compared to the actual problems that people face every day: cancer, death, hunger, even the simple fact of not having a job and wanting one.)
But there is one fact buried in all of that: if I do that, at least I am working on those things I can control. If I want control, it's there for the taking - just not on the things that I feel matter.
But how long into a career - or life - can someone go constantly chasing the control they can never have without eventually destroying the very things that they could control? And how much longer would it take until the very fabric of their life and personality is also impacted?
And if it was, would we know?
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
The Sounds of Silence
Today I go pick up The Ravishing Mrs. TB and Na Clann from the airport from their visit to the land of Mouse Ears.
It's been an interesting six days, made all the more interesting that three of the days were either the weekend or a holiday. For once in a long while I can make the statement that I plenty of time to get done what I needed to do.
And was it a productive time? Yes. I got a great deal done over the weekend: Planned my garden and planted some peppers and tomatoes, made two kinds of cheese, took care of the pets, weed-ate (past tense of weed-eat?) the backyard, went to church, went to Half Price Books (twice), had breakfast and coffee with Snowflake, read, watched four movies (for me, that's like four months' worth), made the decision to self-publish and started the process of actually getting the book ready (I have an ISBN!), caught up 9 months of finances, practiced Iaido, and even got to sleep 8 hours of sleep a night. A pretty productive time indeed.
But even with all this productivity, all this energy, all this time to do what I want to do, there has been a sense of missing something in my life. That something is my family.
It's odd. When everyone is here, I sometimes cannot take the level of noise. Sometimes the state of the house frustrates me. Alone time becomes something that I actively seek out to (probably) retreat from the seeming chaos.
But in the chaos is the very thing that I need: relationships. Roles. Even Responsibilities. Occasionally fun as well. But always Love.
So I'll go to the airport tonight, pick everyone up, and be regaled with stories of rides and experiences and rainstorms and how tired we all are. Everyone will eat and then sleep, and I'll be left in the silence of the house once again.
But a house full, rather than a house empty.
It's been an interesting six days, made all the more interesting that three of the days were either the weekend or a holiday. For once in a long while I can make the statement that I plenty of time to get done what I needed to do.
And was it a productive time? Yes. I got a great deal done over the weekend: Planned my garden and planted some peppers and tomatoes, made two kinds of cheese, took care of the pets, weed-ate (past tense of weed-eat?) the backyard, went to church, went to Half Price Books (twice), had breakfast and coffee with Snowflake, read, watched four movies (for me, that's like four months' worth), made the decision to self-publish and started the process of actually getting the book ready (I have an ISBN!), caught up 9 months of finances, practiced Iaido, and even got to sleep 8 hours of sleep a night. A pretty productive time indeed.
But even with all this productivity, all this energy, all this time to do what I want to do, there has been a sense of missing something in my life. That something is my family.
It's odd. When everyone is here, I sometimes cannot take the level of noise. Sometimes the state of the house frustrates me. Alone time becomes something that I actively seek out to (probably) retreat from the seeming chaos.
But in the chaos is the very thing that I need: relationships. Roles. Even Responsibilities. Occasionally fun as well. But always Love.
So I'll go to the airport tonight, pick everyone up, and be regaled with stories of rides and experiences and rainstorms and how tired we all are. Everyone will eat and then sleep, and I'll be left in the silence of the house once again.
But a house full, rather than a house empty.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Decision
So I started running down the road of self publishing yesterday.
In looking around at the Internet and myself, what I have come to realize is that I continually keep making excuses for not getting this thing done. Sure, I can send my manuscript through one more round of reviews (and it needs it), but then I start going through the secondary part, the "I need to get information on publishers and or agents, I need to send letters, I need to wait."
I need to wait. Is it that I need to wait, or that I have reached a point where it is convenient for me to use that as an excuse for not doing more?
In a world of YouTube, I-Pads, Twitter, Facebook, Blogs and Kindle, the reality is that waiting is one option - but it's not the only one.
There is one thing though, a thing beyond the money outlay (which seems to be minimal in this case): it's believing in one's self.
That's the thing. That's the point of all of the technology listed above. It's all there and makes putting something out in the public eye easier than ever, but it presupposes that you believe in what it is that you are putting out. And belief is demonstrated by taking the final step of putting your product out on the market and not making excuses.
And maybe, perhaps for the first time since October 2008 when this become a possibility, the years of making excuses for waiting on others and the simple fact of achieving a goal will be reality.
In looking around at the Internet and myself, what I have come to realize is that I continually keep making excuses for not getting this thing done. Sure, I can send my manuscript through one more round of reviews (and it needs it), but then I start going through the secondary part, the "I need to get information on publishers and or agents, I need to send letters, I need to wait."
I need to wait. Is it that I need to wait, or that I have reached a point where it is convenient for me to use that as an excuse for not doing more?
In a world of YouTube, I-Pads, Twitter, Facebook, Blogs and Kindle, the reality is that waiting is one option - but it's not the only one.
There is one thing though, a thing beyond the money outlay (which seems to be minimal in this case): it's believing in one's self.
That's the thing. That's the point of all of the technology listed above. It's all there and makes putting something out in the public eye easier than ever, but it presupposes that you believe in what it is that you are putting out. And belief is demonstrated by taking the final step of putting your product out on the market and not making excuses.
And maybe, perhaps for the first time since October 2008 when this become a possibility, the years of making excuses for waiting on others and the simple fact of achieving a goal will be reality.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Being Happy
Snowflake was in town to take care of some business this weekend, and so we had breakfast on Saturday and coffee on Sunday afternoon. On Sunday afternoon, sitting in the humid New Home air, she asks "Where is Happy Toirdhealbheach Beucail? You need to find him."
Where is happy me? It was easy enough to make a comment at the time - "I'm sure he's running around somewhere south of here - but as I went through the rest of my day, the question stuck with me. Where is happy me?
Am I ever really happy? A fair enough question with probably a less than fair answer. Not a lot.
So often it feels like I am going through the motions of my life more because I have to rather than any sense of wanting to. Yes, I understand this is the way it works in many aspects, but the truth is that there is very little - if anything - I anticipate ahead of time from week to week.
Has this happened suddenly or has this been a gradual descent? I'm too much in myself to full appreciate that, so I'll probably have to go with the general observations of those around me that yes, this has been sort of a long term thing.
Is it depression? I'm not sure- if it is, it is not the typical depressions I have faced in the sense of a severe sense of hopelessness. The sense is characterized more by a sense of blandness, of things that used to bring joy no longer doing so, of a sense of a long march to the sea without any anticipation the destination will be desirable.
If happy me is gone, where do I go to find him?
Where is happy me? It was easy enough to make a comment at the time - "I'm sure he's running around somewhere south of here - but as I went through the rest of my day, the question stuck with me. Where is happy me?
Am I ever really happy? A fair enough question with probably a less than fair answer. Not a lot.
So often it feels like I am going through the motions of my life more because I have to rather than any sense of wanting to. Yes, I understand this is the way it works in many aspects, but the truth is that there is very little - if anything - I anticipate ahead of time from week to week.
Has this happened suddenly or has this been a gradual descent? I'm too much in myself to full appreciate that, so I'll probably have to go with the general observations of those around me that yes, this has been sort of a long term thing.
Is it depression? I'm not sure- if it is, it is not the typical depressions I have faced in the sense of a severe sense of hopelessness. The sense is characterized more by a sense of blandness, of things that used to bring joy no longer doing so, of a sense of a long march to the sea without any anticipation the destination will be desirable.
If happy me is gone, where do I go to find him?
Friday, May 25, 2012
Rocks and Rapids
Sometimes the interesting thing about life is that you can see a major event coming, even as you cannot control it, may have no idea what it is or any idea what you will do about it. This is the sense that I find myself haunted by these days, a sense of being directed into a channel to which I cannot see the end.
There just feels like there are multiple pieces in play in my life which I control very few of. On the one hand I simply suppose this is a truth and should be accepted, as much of life is out of our control no matter how much we pretend it is otherwise. On the other hand, there is nothing worse than being powerless.
What's in play? Having moved forward with purchasing a home, we find we are constrained by events three years ago to be out of consideration until December at best. Can we get a six month lease, or will we extend that search another six months? For work: suffice to say a storm is coming and there is little that can be done about. Virtually all of the outcomes I can think of are bad, but the alternatives are no better. Nighean Gheal will be at a transition grade this year and to pull here away from where she has been for the last three years is not the most desirable option. Contrariwise, the type of work I do is not prevalent in New Home; what other options are there, if any?
I write this things to get them out in written form; I scarcely believe that by my writing them any of them will come any closer to being resolved. But I cannot escape the sense of staring down the beach at retreating water, knowing what is coming but suspecting that no matter how far I get inland, the water will follow.
There just feels like there are multiple pieces in play in my life which I control very few of. On the one hand I simply suppose this is a truth and should be accepted, as much of life is out of our control no matter how much we pretend it is otherwise. On the other hand, there is nothing worse than being powerless.
What's in play? Having moved forward with purchasing a home, we find we are constrained by events three years ago to be out of consideration until December at best. Can we get a six month lease, or will we extend that search another six months? For work: suffice to say a storm is coming and there is little that can be done about. Virtually all of the outcomes I can think of are bad, but the alternatives are no better. Nighean Gheal will be at a transition grade this year and to pull here away from where she has been for the last three years is not the most desirable option. Contrariwise, the type of work I do is not prevalent in New Home; what other options are there, if any?
I write this things to get them out in written form; I scarcely believe that by my writing them any of them will come any closer to being resolved. But I cannot escape the sense of staring down the beach at retreating water, knowing what is coming but suspecting that no matter how far I get inland, the water will follow.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Making a Difference
One thing I've come to realize about myself over the years - and be powerfully reminded of recently - is that I want and desire to make a difference.
I want to feel like I am improving something in something that matters. I want to leave at the end of the day saying I made a difference in something that was meaningful in someone's life.
For those that know what I do, the thought may already be there that this is the case. I have worked around people's health and health conditions for 14 years. I have contributed to effort to see that things are helped on their way to the people that need them.
But I've come to realize that it is not enough just to work around it. You need to do something meaningful in it.
At the heart of my job, I'm a paper pusher and persuader. I actually have little power to do what I need to have happen, so I have to use my ability to cajole and convince to see things accomplished. But most of those things are really just short term - getting one thing done one time, only to see it swallowed up by the next immediate task.
I've a vivid memory from when I got laid off of the ultimate permanence and importance of everything I do at work - it's the memory of making files for everything, of boxing things up only to see them being sent somewhere else where they would either be used for something by a successor someday or just disposed of. It's that memory that haunts me every time I pick up a task to do - ultimately, this is all being put in a box somewhere.
Which is why working on something which is making a difference truly matters. Sure, these are trivial matters - but all things of importance have trivial matters which must be completed. It's what those trivial matters are being performed in service of that matters. I can push paperwork to sell a plastic part, or I can push paperwork to help create a drug that fights cancer. The paperwork - conceptually, anyway - is the same.
It's what it is being put in service of that makes all the difference in the world.
I want to feel like I am improving something in something that matters. I want to leave at the end of the day saying I made a difference in something that was meaningful in someone's life.
For those that know what I do, the thought may already be there that this is the case. I have worked around people's health and health conditions for 14 years. I have contributed to effort to see that things are helped on their way to the people that need them.
But I've come to realize that it is not enough just to work around it. You need to do something meaningful in it.
At the heart of my job, I'm a paper pusher and persuader. I actually have little power to do what I need to have happen, so I have to use my ability to cajole and convince to see things accomplished. But most of those things are really just short term - getting one thing done one time, only to see it swallowed up by the next immediate task.
I've a vivid memory from when I got laid off of the ultimate permanence and importance of everything I do at work - it's the memory of making files for everything, of boxing things up only to see them being sent somewhere else where they would either be used for something by a successor someday or just disposed of. It's that memory that haunts me every time I pick up a task to do - ultimately, this is all being put in a box somewhere.
Which is why working on something which is making a difference truly matters. Sure, these are trivial matters - but all things of importance have trivial matters which must be completed. It's what those trivial matters are being performed in service of that matters. I can push paperwork to sell a plastic part, or I can push paperwork to help create a drug that fights cancer. The paperwork - conceptually, anyway - is the same.
It's what it is being put in service of that makes all the difference in the world.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Hard to Believe, Hard to Live Out
How much do I crave the acceptance of others?
I'm reading Hard to Believe by John MacArthur about the watering down of the Gospel and what Christ actually said about Himself and His message. MacArthur at worst always challenges me and at best cause me to think long and hard about my life and my faith and how I live it.
As I read through the first chapter, what I as confronted with was two items: 1) The message of Christ calls for self-denial, not self fulfillment; and 2) The message of Christ is, by its very nature, offensive, and that if we preach the gospel we too will, at some level, will be offensive.
The part that I'm dwelling on is the second, the offensiveness of the Gospel and whether we try to maintain our "good" standing with others or preach it.
Offensive? The gospel of Christ is offensive if you think about to the unregenerate mind: You are a sinner and you are unable to save yourself. Salvation is available, but it means confessing that you are a sinner and have no ability to save yourself by anything you can do, only by believing that Christ came to suffer and die in your place. It's offensive because:
1) It means that we are not independent entities unto ourselves. We have a Creator and we are not the focal point of the universe.
2) It means that we are sinners. There is nothing we can do - no good we can do - that will ultimately save us.
3) It means that if we are to be saved, we need to humble ourselves, submit ourselves, and deny ourselves.
4) It means that our lives are no long interpreted by what we believe is right and wrong or what society believes is right and wrong but what God believes is right and wrong.
Note that this does not presume any attacks, any particular sins or religion, anything other than the simple message of the Gospel. Beginning to see why it would be offensive?
The question comes in how as a Christian I live it out. Do I really seek to follow Christ - to follow the Great Commission - or do I allow things to slide by because I want people to like me? Is avoiding controversy a byword for fear of speaking lest I offend?
Of course the Gospel is presented offensively - that's not what I dealing with here. What I am dealing with is the fine line between being true to what Christ said and valuing the approval of others more than what God has called me to.
Would that I loved God more - or at least denied myself more - to be true to Him.
I'm reading Hard to Believe by John MacArthur about the watering down of the Gospel and what Christ actually said about Himself and His message. MacArthur at worst always challenges me and at best cause me to think long and hard about my life and my faith and how I live it.
As I read through the first chapter, what I as confronted with was two items: 1) The message of Christ calls for self-denial, not self fulfillment; and 2) The message of Christ is, by its very nature, offensive, and that if we preach the gospel we too will, at some level, will be offensive.
The part that I'm dwelling on is the second, the offensiveness of the Gospel and whether we try to maintain our "good" standing with others or preach it.
Offensive? The gospel of Christ is offensive if you think about to the unregenerate mind: You are a sinner and you are unable to save yourself. Salvation is available, but it means confessing that you are a sinner and have no ability to save yourself by anything you can do, only by believing that Christ came to suffer and die in your place. It's offensive because:
1) It means that we are not independent entities unto ourselves. We have a Creator and we are not the focal point of the universe.
2) It means that we are sinners. There is nothing we can do - no good we can do - that will ultimately save us.
3) It means that if we are to be saved, we need to humble ourselves, submit ourselves, and deny ourselves.
4) It means that our lives are no long interpreted by what we believe is right and wrong or what society believes is right and wrong but what God believes is right and wrong.
Note that this does not presume any attacks, any particular sins or religion, anything other than the simple message of the Gospel. Beginning to see why it would be offensive?
The question comes in how as a Christian I live it out. Do I really seek to follow Christ - to follow the Great Commission - or do I allow things to slide by because I want people to like me? Is avoiding controversy a byword for fear of speaking lest I offend?
Of course the Gospel is presented offensively - that's not what I dealing with here. What I am dealing with is the fine line between being true to what Christ said and valuing the approval of others more than what God has called me to.
Would that I loved God more - or at least denied myself more - to be true to Him.
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