Winds here mean cold fronts
on their way to somewhere else:
different from Old Home.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Boxed
There are few things worse than the sense of being irrelevant and trapped.
It is a subtle thing a first: in a conversation with others, you suddenly come across a fact which everyone else seems aware of but you didn't know. As you begin to look into thing further, you find that there is a whole chain of events which impacts you but about which you had no idea was even occurring.
Then the next step comes: tasks and items which you are responsible for are suddenly being set and commanded by others, even if you are still expected to complete them. At some point you may ask about this, but are told that "No, you're still in charge. Just making a few changes to move things forward".
But the undercurrents still continue. The ordering of responsibilities and tasks continue. You are still required to do certain things and make certain goals, but you find your areas of decision and input have slowly been stripped away until you dwell in a box without windows or doors where tasks are passed in and out through a small hole in the wall and a knowledge of the great outer world is stripped away.
The worst part, of course, is that you feel trapped. You feel trapped in your current situation as the the ability to find a way to change it seems extremely limited. You also feel trapped in your day to day life as you have that nagging sense of being irrelevant, kept only for the purpose of doing certain things that no-one else wants to do instead of being maintained for your what you bring to the situation.
The funny thing - if such a thing can be called funny - is that sense that no-one will really say anything about the situation. Surely such a thing is known and self evident - such things seldom happen in a vacuum. But nothing is said - it's a sort of open secret, the elephant in the room that all know is there but that no-one will address.
And so the sense of fading to gray comes, the idea that one had about doing something grand fading away as one fades into the background of the unnoticed, the powerless, the forgotten - left until the final action comes, perhaps years after the first signs of irrelevance were perceived.
Idly perhaps, one day someone will ask why one suddenly seems different, where has the enthusiasm and drive gone. You look at them, a score of items running through your head as your catalog the issues and the length of time things have really been this way. Then realizing the actual state of things, you simply sigh and shake your head.
"It's hard to explain" you say. "It's a long story."
It is a subtle thing a first: in a conversation with others, you suddenly come across a fact which everyone else seems aware of but you didn't know. As you begin to look into thing further, you find that there is a whole chain of events which impacts you but about which you had no idea was even occurring.
Then the next step comes: tasks and items which you are responsible for are suddenly being set and commanded by others, even if you are still expected to complete them. At some point you may ask about this, but are told that "No, you're still in charge. Just making a few changes to move things forward".
But the undercurrents still continue. The ordering of responsibilities and tasks continue. You are still required to do certain things and make certain goals, but you find your areas of decision and input have slowly been stripped away until you dwell in a box without windows or doors where tasks are passed in and out through a small hole in the wall and a knowledge of the great outer world is stripped away.
The worst part, of course, is that you feel trapped. You feel trapped in your current situation as the the ability to find a way to change it seems extremely limited. You also feel trapped in your day to day life as you have that nagging sense of being irrelevant, kept only for the purpose of doing certain things that no-one else wants to do instead of being maintained for your what you bring to the situation.
The funny thing - if such a thing can be called funny - is that sense that no-one will really say anything about the situation. Surely such a thing is known and self evident - such things seldom happen in a vacuum. But nothing is said - it's a sort of open secret, the elephant in the room that all know is there but that no-one will address.
And so the sense of fading to gray comes, the idea that one had about doing something grand fading away as one fades into the background of the unnoticed, the powerless, the forgotten - left until the final action comes, perhaps years after the first signs of irrelevance were perceived.
Idly perhaps, one day someone will ask why one suddenly seems different, where has the enthusiasm and drive gone. You look at them, a score of items running through your head as your catalog the issues and the length of time things have really been this way. Then realizing the actual state of things, you simply sigh and shake your head.
"It's hard to explain" you say. "It's a long story."
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Mountains of the Mind
We all build mountains in our mind.
What are these mountains? These are the places where we go secretly to engage in those things which we know to be sin. It's the place where we take our dreamings, our imaginations, our pride. We take them to be worshipped.
"Worshipped? That' a pretty big word, isn't it? I mean, I know I have faults and all, but the idea that I would take them and worship them is just silly. After all, I'm a 21st Century sophisticate - there is no way I'm involved in any sort of worship."
But we are.
Every time we take one of these things - lust, greed, anger - and instead of dealing with directly go to someplace in ourselves to roll it over in our mind and consider it, perhaps even to glory in it, we come to acribe value to it - to give it worth by our spending time with it or "Worth Ship" it, as the origin of the word would have it.
And so we begin the process of building our own mountain.
Every time we go back to the altar, taking that thing in our mind which we cannot or will not deal with, we bring a small bucket of earth with us to stand on as we go. Over time, these things begin to build up until, towering in our psychic landscape, stand squatting hills with rough hewn stained altars on the top of them.
Of course worship can't happen without bringing something of value to offer. Initially it is just our time. This time becomes more and more as we spend more and more at that altar instead of out in the world. The time begins to suck in other things - relationships, hobbies, activities - sometimes in the light sense of time, sometimes in the heavy sense of sacrificing those thing through adultery or workaholism or addiction or selfishness.
Given long enough we become slaves of the mountains that we have built, constantly toiling up them to offer sacrifice that we have pulled from other parts of our lives. In the end, that which have initially built to please us destroys us.
There must be a solution, of course. There is - but it is the hardest thing of all. We must tear down the mountains of the mind.
How? By refusing to climb them or indulge them. By turning our steps away from them when formerly we go to them. By refusing to indulge ourselves in our secret sins.
This is not something that can ever be done in one's own strength, of course. Ultimately there will be parts that we can never reach, effort we cannot make. Ultimately we are dependent on God and His power to overcome such things. But that does not excuse us from not making the attempt.
Let not the picture of our lives at the end be someone who has carefully carried all his interests, his relationships, his family - his life - up a mountain and offered them up to something which ultimately was phantom that had power neither to save nor reward.
Let us not be slaves of that which we indulge for ourselves.
What are these mountains? These are the places where we go secretly to engage in those things which we know to be sin. It's the place where we take our dreamings, our imaginations, our pride. We take them to be worshipped.
"Worshipped? That' a pretty big word, isn't it? I mean, I know I have faults and all, but the idea that I would take them and worship them is just silly. After all, I'm a 21st Century sophisticate - there is no way I'm involved in any sort of worship."
But we are.
Every time we take one of these things - lust, greed, anger - and instead of dealing with directly go to someplace in ourselves to roll it over in our mind and consider it, perhaps even to glory in it, we come to acribe value to it - to give it worth by our spending time with it or "Worth Ship" it, as the origin of the word would have it.
And so we begin the process of building our own mountain.
Every time we go back to the altar, taking that thing in our mind which we cannot or will not deal with, we bring a small bucket of earth with us to stand on as we go. Over time, these things begin to build up until, towering in our psychic landscape, stand squatting hills with rough hewn stained altars on the top of them.
Of course worship can't happen without bringing something of value to offer. Initially it is just our time. This time becomes more and more as we spend more and more at that altar instead of out in the world. The time begins to suck in other things - relationships, hobbies, activities - sometimes in the light sense of time, sometimes in the heavy sense of sacrificing those thing through adultery or workaholism or addiction or selfishness.
Given long enough we become slaves of the mountains that we have built, constantly toiling up them to offer sacrifice that we have pulled from other parts of our lives. In the end, that which have initially built to please us destroys us.
There must be a solution, of course. There is - but it is the hardest thing of all. We must tear down the mountains of the mind.
How? By refusing to climb them or indulge them. By turning our steps away from them when formerly we go to them. By refusing to indulge ourselves in our secret sins.
This is not something that can ever be done in one's own strength, of course. Ultimately there will be parts that we can never reach, effort we cannot make. Ultimately we are dependent on God and His power to overcome such things. But that does not excuse us from not making the attempt.
Let not the picture of our lives at the end be someone who has carefully carried all his interests, his relationships, his family - his life - up a mountain and offered them up to something which ultimately was phantom that had power neither to save nor reward.
Let us not be slaves of that which we indulge for ourselves.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Questioning FB
I've begun questioning the purpose of my existence on Facebook this weekend.
You all know Facebook, that wonderful invention that allows individuals to reconnect and share pictures, links and information about themselves, that allows them to reconnect with people they haven't talked to in years. It's a social extravaganza, a sort of ultimate reunion and new friend engine rolled into one.
Over the course of about 3 years that I have had the account, I have had the privilege of catching up with a number of people that I have lost track of over the years: high school friends long disappeared into the mists of life, a college friend or two - even my family has taken a swing at it. As mentioned, it is great for keeping people up to date and keeping up to date with peoples' lives: seeing them, seeing their pictures, seeing their jokes and their comments.
But watching Facebook over the past three months has made me doubt my decision to continue to exist there.
Why? Because in the last three months I've come to see that Facebook is creating even more of a society that is unable to have serious discussions about serious issues.
The issue is this: someone posts a comment. Someone else posts a comments disagreeing with them - but since this is Facebook, this person may or may not have a relationships with them have a years long understanding of them and their situation. Instead, it is just a comment. They respond with their opinion. Typically, the discussion quickly breaks down after that into a series of naming calling and accusations until, at last, it peters out.
Where does that leave the drive by participant - me, for example, who can see all of this even if I chose not to participate? Either saddened or angry, offended or depressed - because I too react to the words as I see them on the screen. At Face Value.
The reality is that this is may be creating a more "connected" environment but it is hardly creating one that is more thoughtful. Instead words are bandied about like clubs and axes. The ability to think, to discuss, to debate is buried beneath a wave of being in for the instant response. It becomes the written form of verbal shouting.
And so I find myself more often than not either fuming at the screen or shaking my head. I find myself more and more reluctant to engage in any discussion not directly personal or humorous in nature. More and more questioning why I even bother to spend my time looking at or posting on Facebook at all.
It's not that I don't enjoy reconnecting with my friends - I do. But what I am finding is that Facebook has become less and less of the coffee house where you relax and meet and more and more of the friend's home you visit where you always end up leaving early because you feel uncomfortable.
I used to believe that chat rooms and texting would be the death of meaningful communication. I think I've changed my opinion.
You all know Facebook, that wonderful invention that allows individuals to reconnect and share pictures, links and information about themselves, that allows them to reconnect with people they haven't talked to in years. It's a social extravaganza, a sort of ultimate reunion and new friend engine rolled into one.
Over the course of about 3 years that I have had the account, I have had the privilege of catching up with a number of people that I have lost track of over the years: high school friends long disappeared into the mists of life, a college friend or two - even my family has taken a swing at it. As mentioned, it is great for keeping people up to date and keeping up to date with peoples' lives: seeing them, seeing their pictures, seeing their jokes and their comments.
But watching Facebook over the past three months has made me doubt my decision to continue to exist there.
Why? Because in the last three months I've come to see that Facebook is creating even more of a society that is unable to have serious discussions about serious issues.
The issue is this: someone posts a comment. Someone else posts a comments disagreeing with them - but since this is Facebook, this person may or may not have a relationships with them have a years long understanding of them and their situation. Instead, it is just a comment. They respond with their opinion. Typically, the discussion quickly breaks down after that into a series of naming calling and accusations until, at last, it peters out.
Where does that leave the drive by participant - me, for example, who can see all of this even if I chose not to participate? Either saddened or angry, offended or depressed - because I too react to the words as I see them on the screen. At Face Value.
The reality is that this is may be creating a more "connected" environment but it is hardly creating one that is more thoughtful. Instead words are bandied about like clubs and axes. The ability to think, to discuss, to debate is buried beneath a wave of being in for the instant response. It becomes the written form of verbal shouting.
And so I find myself more often than not either fuming at the screen or shaking my head. I find myself more and more reluctant to engage in any discussion not directly personal or humorous in nature. More and more questioning why I even bother to spend my time looking at or posting on Facebook at all.
It's not that I don't enjoy reconnecting with my friends - I do. But what I am finding is that Facebook has become less and less of the coffee house where you relax and meet and more and more of the friend's home you visit where you always end up leaving early because you feel uncomfortable.
I used to believe that chat rooms and texting would be the death of meaningful communication. I think I've changed my opinion.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Freedom and Prison
"We [Christians] say, not lightly but very literally, that the truth has made us free. They say that it makes us so free that it cannot be the truth. To them it is like believing in a fairyland to believe in such freedom as we enjoy. It is like believing in men with wings to entertain the fancy of men with wills. It is like accepting a fable about a squirrel in conversation with a mountain to believe in a man who is free to ask or a God who is free to answer. This is a manly and rational negation for which I for one will always show respect. But I decline to show any respect for those who first of all clip the wings and cage the squirrel, rivet the chains and refuse the freedom, close all the doors of the cosmic prison on us with a clang of eternal iron, tell us that our emancipation is a dream and our dungeon a necessity; and then calmly turn around and tell us they have a freer thought and a more liberal theology." - G.K. Chesterton, The Everlasting Man
Thursday, December 13, 2012
The Mighty D.
I had the privilege of attending a funeral today.
A privilege? Yes. There are two kinds of funerals: those that are filled with sadness and yet hope and those that are simple sad. I have attended both kinds.
Today's was one of the former, for a woman I only knew briefly and in passing. Her son and Nighean Dhonn shared a class for 3 years. I would not have met her except that I ran in a 5k in October for a fundraiser for her. She passed on Saturday night.
To listen to those that spoke - her father, her brother, her friends, her husband - was to listen to the story of a woman who knew what she believed and firmly lived it out, even in the face of living with the specter of and then the actual event of cancer. To hear of someone who lived their their life to the fullest to the very last moment possible.
She died at 38.
It was a thing to think of as we wended our way back to the car after the service and after-meal. The winter sun had heated the air a bit and the day was quite pleasant. I had fully intended to return to work but the hour had grown too late for any productive work, and suddenly the reality of life made this seem to be not the most important thing in the world.
As I went about my business in the afternoon I did not plan of having, I found my thoughts drifting back to the morning, trying to distill what I had heard and experienced into something I could apply. Truths are seldom presented more clearly than in the light of death - the challenge is to determine what do with them.
1) We are never more than what we give of ourselves to others. What came through the conversation and the stories of the afternoon was not what others had done, but what D had done for others. Even in her pain. Even in the uncertainty of dwelling under the Shadow of Death.
2) We are never more ourselves than when we live for Another. Specifically one Other - Christ, the Son of God. Only through living out Him in our daily lives, by being not only those hands and feet of service but the eyes and ears of listening and compassion, the voice of life and encouragement, the brain of planning and executing the Plans of Another. What we do here for ourselves stays here. What we do for others in the name of Christ and for Christ Himself goes farther our eyes can ever see.
In reality, we all live under the Shadow of Death. Most of us choose not think of it unless it is thrust into our face, but it remains true. We would be wise to consider how we spend our lives in light of that fact.
Requiscat in Pace, Mighty D. Your race is run. May you inspire those who remain behind.
A privilege? Yes. There are two kinds of funerals: those that are filled with sadness and yet hope and those that are simple sad. I have attended both kinds.
Today's was one of the former, for a woman I only knew briefly and in passing. Her son and Nighean Dhonn shared a class for 3 years. I would not have met her except that I ran in a 5k in October for a fundraiser for her. She passed on Saturday night.
To listen to those that spoke - her father, her brother, her friends, her husband - was to listen to the story of a woman who knew what she believed and firmly lived it out, even in the face of living with the specter of and then the actual event of cancer. To hear of someone who lived their their life to the fullest to the very last moment possible.
She died at 38.
It was a thing to think of as we wended our way back to the car after the service and after-meal. The winter sun had heated the air a bit and the day was quite pleasant. I had fully intended to return to work but the hour had grown too late for any productive work, and suddenly the reality of life made this seem to be not the most important thing in the world.
As I went about my business in the afternoon I did not plan of having, I found my thoughts drifting back to the morning, trying to distill what I had heard and experienced into something I could apply. Truths are seldom presented more clearly than in the light of death - the challenge is to determine what do with them.
1) We are never more than what we give of ourselves to others. What came through the conversation and the stories of the afternoon was not what others had done, but what D had done for others. Even in her pain. Even in the uncertainty of dwelling under the Shadow of Death.
2) We are never more ourselves than when we live for Another. Specifically one Other - Christ, the Son of God. Only through living out Him in our daily lives, by being not only those hands and feet of service but the eyes and ears of listening and compassion, the voice of life and encouragement, the brain of planning and executing the Plans of Another. What we do here for ourselves stays here. What we do for others in the name of Christ and for Christ Himself goes farther our eyes can ever see.
In reality, we all live under the Shadow of Death. Most of us choose not think of it unless it is thrust into our face, but it remains true. We would be wise to consider how we spend our lives in light of that fact.
Requiscat in Pace, Mighty D. Your race is run. May you inspire those who remain behind.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Goals New and Old
The last part of the year has arrived - that time of year where planning for the new both increases and goes into decline.
Increases? 2013 is already dangling in front of my face. Things I want to do next year - things I need to next year - are starting to shout for my attention. They are waving sheets of paper in front of me, shouting "I'm a goal - do me next year". Many more than I had originally thought are making an appearance, all demanding a turn to argue their merits.
And in decline? The countervailing movement is largely expressed in the here and now. It is the end of the year. The ability to do most of what I was going to do this year has passed; better to concentrate on that time which remains say the goals from 2012. If you become too enmeshed in what is coming, you will fail to complete what you can still do.
It is an odd counterbalance. On the one hand, planning for a new year - at least goal wise - is something which is always a little exciting and intoxicating: the year is a blank slate, ready to be written on. And let us be fair: I think in many ways 2012 has left me in a far better position in terms of setting and achieving goals than has been the case in some years. There is a certain sense of of hopefulness - if not for some specific situations in my life, then for the general.
The part I need to look to - the part I often hate to look to - is my failures. Where did I fail in my goals? Why did I fail in them? Is there any catch up possible in these last few weeks that will allow me to get over the top? There is not nearly the sense of excitement in doing things this way of course - but cleaning up old goals is like cleaning out cheesecloth after you make cheese: if you don't complete the process, it will smelly and sort of nasty for the following time.
Old and new, increase and decrease: perhaps that is why New Year was set when it was: to allow the slowness of the world outside to let us focus on the riotous world of thought on the inside.
Increases? 2013 is already dangling in front of my face. Things I want to do next year - things I need to next year - are starting to shout for my attention. They are waving sheets of paper in front of me, shouting "I'm a goal - do me next year". Many more than I had originally thought are making an appearance, all demanding a turn to argue their merits.
And in decline? The countervailing movement is largely expressed in the here and now. It is the end of the year. The ability to do most of what I was going to do this year has passed; better to concentrate on that time which remains say the goals from 2012. If you become too enmeshed in what is coming, you will fail to complete what you can still do.
It is an odd counterbalance. On the one hand, planning for a new year - at least goal wise - is something which is always a little exciting and intoxicating: the year is a blank slate, ready to be written on. And let us be fair: I think in many ways 2012 has left me in a far better position in terms of setting and achieving goals than has been the case in some years. There is a certain sense of of hopefulness - if not for some specific situations in my life, then for the general.
The part I need to look to - the part I often hate to look to - is my failures. Where did I fail in my goals? Why did I fail in them? Is there any catch up possible in these last few weeks that will allow me to get over the top? There is not nearly the sense of excitement in doing things this way of course - but cleaning up old goals is like cleaning out cheesecloth after you make cheese: if you don't complete the process, it will smelly and sort of nasty for the following time.
Old and new, increase and decrease: perhaps that is why New Year was set when it was: to allow the slowness of the world outside to let us focus on the riotous world of thought on the inside.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Tuesday Morning, 11 December
One of the great privileges of being an early morning riser is the opportunity to be an early morning writer.
That's not always the case, of course. There are plenty of mornings where the "privilege" feels quite similar to a form of punishment as one staggers out of bed and tries to avoid the slalom of furniture in the bedroom as one careens to the stairs hoping (in the still semi-comatose under brain) that one does not careen down the stairs.
But this is not one of those mornings.
The temperature has fallen here in New Home to some of the coldest we've had this year: slightly above freezing. That makes the fact that I finally turned the heat on all the more inviting as I sit here. A cup of fresh coffee sits beside me, the heated cup warming my heart almost as much as the coffee does (ah, coffee - what won't it solve?). Yesterday's pumpkin muffins, cold from the room temperature but with the advantage of having a day to slightly compress, promise a delicious breakfast.
These are the mornings that it is a privilege to write - not just from the fact of being able to write, but the fact that appreciates all the things that go with being up early in the morning to write. That seemingly rare convergence where the mind and the will coincide with the words and the physical sensations (ah, coffee) to make the inner space and outer space as one.
These are the times when the words just seem to bubble up from inside, not dragged from the mind kicking and screaming but willingly yielding themselves to the process. The sense of stress is gone, replaced by a sense of being at peace with one's self and the practice of what one is doing. This is one of those moments where one can really use the words "The Craft of Writing" and not feel as if one is mouthing a phrase for others, not one's self.
What is being written about is less important - indeed, one could probably just write about writing and the physical environment around one. Those words of direction, of import - they will come in their time as well. Once the streambed is prepared, the stream will come.
But every now and again it is simply good to stop, take a look around, and realize that such moments are out there and available to us - with the sincere hope that, like other exquisite moments, they will come to more a part of our daily lives.
That's not always the case, of course. There are plenty of mornings where the "privilege" feels quite similar to a form of punishment as one staggers out of bed and tries to avoid the slalom of furniture in the bedroom as one careens to the stairs hoping (in the still semi-comatose under brain) that one does not careen down the stairs.
But this is not one of those mornings.
The temperature has fallen here in New Home to some of the coldest we've had this year: slightly above freezing. That makes the fact that I finally turned the heat on all the more inviting as I sit here. A cup of fresh coffee sits beside me, the heated cup warming my heart almost as much as the coffee does (ah, coffee - what won't it solve?). Yesterday's pumpkin muffins, cold from the room temperature but with the advantage of having a day to slightly compress, promise a delicious breakfast.
These are the mornings that it is a privilege to write - not just from the fact of being able to write, but the fact that appreciates all the things that go with being up early in the morning to write. That seemingly rare convergence where the mind and the will coincide with the words and the physical sensations (ah, coffee) to make the inner space and outer space as one.
These are the times when the words just seem to bubble up from inside, not dragged from the mind kicking and screaming but willingly yielding themselves to the process. The sense of stress is gone, replaced by a sense of being at peace with one's self and the practice of what one is doing. This is one of those moments where one can really use the words "The Craft of Writing" and not feel as if one is mouthing a phrase for others, not one's self.
What is being written about is less important - indeed, one could probably just write about writing and the physical environment around one. Those words of direction, of import - they will come in their time as well. Once the streambed is prepared, the stream will come.
But every now and again it is simply good to stop, take a look around, and realize that such moments are out there and available to us - with the sincere hope that, like other exquisite moments, they will come to more a part of our daily lives.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Brevity
Another one of those not so gentle reminders about the brevity of life.
The mother of one of Nighean dhonn's classmates passed away Saturday night. A cancer that had gotten to her brain, after being a two-time cancer survivor. They had hoped she would be here for Christmas. She leaves behind a husband and two sons.
It is another case of drive-by sorrow. I only knew of her through her illness, ran a race to support her, occasionally got updates on her status from The Ravishing Mrs. TB. No relationship beyond that of passing, no knowledge beyond that of others.
She was younger than I.
What it brings to mind - beyond the inconsolable thought of a husband and sons bereft of someone they expected to (and should have) spent long years with - is the brevity of life and its unknown nature to us.
We spend our time too often on that which does not matter. We become tangled in our minds and thinking on that which has little value beyond the immediate. Certainly there is a need to be involved where we are - but at the same time, many of us - most - take up the burden of things far more than we should. We fritter away our energy and our lives on minors - "the thick of thin things" as Stephen Covey would say.
The result? Beyond just a very real fact of wasting time on that which does not matter, we fail to spend our time on that which does matter - and then, when the end of our life comes (as it inevitably will) we are suddenly "struck" by the fact that we had no time to do what we really intended, what really mattered.
Oh, we meant to. We meant to spend more time with our spouse or our family, to get serious about God, to spend our lives doing things that mattered rather than things that didn't. It's just that we never had the time, you understand - we were too busy being busy. And so, like the trolls of old, we are caught by the rising sun of death and turn to stone, our deeds undone.
Why can we so easily push off the important for the urgent? Why do we ruin our lives for that which is of no account instead of that which matters?
I understand this better than most. That which my industry produces has a life span, and companies change hands frequently. Of all I have worked on and with, most of the products are now not sold, and most of the companies out of business or merged with another. 15 years of work with little beyond a living to show for it.
How much time did this represent? How much suffering? How many hours away, commuting back and forth, missing other things? How much emotional baggage invested in people, against people? How much effort in projects which are now filed away in boxes awaiting destruction?
We are given enough time to do that which God calls us to do. Let us be careful we do not waste the gift spending it on that which is of no importance.
The mother of one of Nighean dhonn's classmates passed away Saturday night. A cancer that had gotten to her brain, after being a two-time cancer survivor. They had hoped she would be here for Christmas. She leaves behind a husband and two sons.
It is another case of drive-by sorrow. I only knew of her through her illness, ran a race to support her, occasionally got updates on her status from The Ravishing Mrs. TB. No relationship beyond that of passing, no knowledge beyond that of others.
She was younger than I.
What it brings to mind - beyond the inconsolable thought of a husband and sons bereft of someone they expected to (and should have) spent long years with - is the brevity of life and its unknown nature to us.
We spend our time too often on that which does not matter. We become tangled in our minds and thinking on that which has little value beyond the immediate. Certainly there is a need to be involved where we are - but at the same time, many of us - most - take up the burden of things far more than we should. We fritter away our energy and our lives on minors - "the thick of thin things" as Stephen Covey would say.
The result? Beyond just a very real fact of wasting time on that which does not matter, we fail to spend our time on that which does matter - and then, when the end of our life comes (as it inevitably will) we are suddenly "struck" by the fact that we had no time to do what we really intended, what really mattered.
Oh, we meant to. We meant to spend more time with our spouse or our family, to get serious about God, to spend our lives doing things that mattered rather than things that didn't. It's just that we never had the time, you understand - we were too busy being busy. And so, like the trolls of old, we are caught by the rising sun of death and turn to stone, our deeds undone.
Why can we so easily push off the important for the urgent? Why do we ruin our lives for that which is of no account instead of that which matters?
I understand this better than most. That which my industry produces has a life span, and companies change hands frequently. Of all I have worked on and with, most of the products are now not sold, and most of the companies out of business or merged with another. 15 years of work with little beyond a living to show for it.
How much time did this represent? How much suffering? How many hours away, commuting back and forth, missing other things? How much emotional baggage invested in people, against people? How much effort in projects which are now filed away in boxes awaiting destruction?
We are given enough time to do that which God calls us to do. Let us be careful we do not waste the gift spending it on that which is of no importance.
Friday, December 07, 2012
Burn Out
Every now and again I seem to reach that burned out state. You've been there before - we all have, I suppose. That sense of rising up in the morning and simply having...nothing. No energy. No hopes. No nothing.
I'm interested (in an abstract sense, I suppose) about what causes this sort of thing. It's not as if the contributing factors - lots going on, maybe a lack of sleep, the rush of an event (Christmas in this case) - don't occur during many points of the year. What does seem to occur right now is this very real sense that there are no reserves left, that everything has been played and there's still an entire period to play.
So what's the difference? What is that factor that drains us of the sense that we don't have any more - perhaps when we really do?
I suspect it's inner related than outer related. All things like this seem to be. Perhaps a temporary abandonment of hope? That would make sense as well - hope is directed towards the future, when there is a possibility that something can change, where as a continuing sense of burnout probably stems from a sense that we have given our all and there is nothing left to give.
I wish I understood this state better - somewhere in the midst of the lack of drive and energy, at the feeling at the end of your rope is the germ of learning to persevere better. There are lessons to be learned here - the biggest, I suppose, is simply how to get out of this state more quickly.
Another road of learning I suppose - if I can just find the motivation and energy to do it...
I'm interested (in an abstract sense, I suppose) about what causes this sort of thing. It's not as if the contributing factors - lots going on, maybe a lack of sleep, the rush of an event (Christmas in this case) - don't occur during many points of the year. What does seem to occur right now is this very real sense that there are no reserves left, that everything has been played and there's still an entire period to play.
So what's the difference? What is that factor that drains us of the sense that we don't have any more - perhaps when we really do?
I suspect it's inner related than outer related. All things like this seem to be. Perhaps a temporary abandonment of hope? That would make sense as well - hope is directed towards the future, when there is a possibility that something can change, where as a continuing sense of burnout probably stems from a sense that we have given our all and there is nothing left to give.
I wish I understood this state better - somewhere in the midst of the lack of drive and energy, at the feeling at the end of your rope is the germ of learning to persevere better. There are lessons to be learned here - the biggest, I suppose, is simply how to get out of this state more quickly.
Another road of learning I suppose - if I can just find the motivation and energy to do it...
Thursday, December 06, 2012
Respect
Respect.
A word loaded with connotations. A word that means the difference between being paid attention to and ignored. Something many people desperately seek to get. But how to get and give respect? Therein lies the rub.
There are two ways that respect is granted. The first method - one that is the most common - is the idea of "earning" respect. "You get the respect you earn" or some such similar line has littered the ground of countless movies and books. It is the idea that respect is something that is not automatically granted due to the fact of existence but that it is given as part of the process of becoming "respectable" - that is, worthy of respect.
The second method - one that seems less common - is the idea of granting respect until it is lost. In this scenario, respect is extended to all as a result of their simply being in existence and is only lost when the individual chooses to loose it. In this concept there is no possibility to earn, only to lose. It is best represented in (of all places) the book Passage to Dawn by R.A. Salvatore in which the main character, Drizz't dro'Urden discusses the concept in a monologue. (Really. If you have a chance read it. It's quite profound.)
The interesting thing I've come to discover about this two theories of respect is that they are practiced in conflict. For most people in or of a group or at the higher levels of the organization, the expectation is that the second will always be applied to them (respect granted until lost) but that the first is what they will grant (respect not granted until earned). I suppose there is some degree of logic in their eyes, a sort of "having earned their spurs" and expecting others to do the same. But at the same time, there seems to be this expectation that respect being granted is done on essentially faith without any basis in competency or achievement but only by virtue of already being present.
Conceptually what would it be like if we all either practiced the theory that everyone had to learn respect - or that respect would be granted to all until lost? To my mind, the ramifications are enormous. Everyone would understand the rules of the game. Everyone would understand that respect is not something granted by virtue of title or name or office but of actual achievement - or contrariwise, that everyone starts out with the respect and it is only through their inability to achieve that such a thing can be lost.
I don't know that I am arguing for one or the other. Both have issues in my opinion - earning respect can become a scheme to always make respect just out reach, granting universally ultimately leads to a devaluation as both the competent and incompetent are granted a level which perhaps they do not deserve. But should we not at least recognize how others expect us to earn respect - and more importantly, what we expect of them?
A word loaded with connotations. A word that means the difference between being paid attention to and ignored. Something many people desperately seek to get. But how to get and give respect? Therein lies the rub.
There are two ways that respect is granted. The first method - one that is the most common - is the idea of "earning" respect. "You get the respect you earn" or some such similar line has littered the ground of countless movies and books. It is the idea that respect is something that is not automatically granted due to the fact of existence but that it is given as part of the process of becoming "respectable" - that is, worthy of respect.
The second method - one that seems less common - is the idea of granting respect until it is lost. In this scenario, respect is extended to all as a result of their simply being in existence and is only lost when the individual chooses to loose it. In this concept there is no possibility to earn, only to lose. It is best represented in (of all places) the book Passage to Dawn by R.A. Salvatore in which the main character, Drizz't dro'Urden discusses the concept in a monologue. (Really. If you have a chance read it. It's quite profound.)
The interesting thing I've come to discover about this two theories of respect is that they are practiced in conflict. For most people in or of a group or at the higher levels of the organization, the expectation is that the second will always be applied to them (respect granted until lost) but that the first is what they will grant (respect not granted until earned). I suppose there is some degree of logic in their eyes, a sort of "having earned their spurs" and expecting others to do the same. But at the same time, there seems to be this expectation that respect being granted is done on essentially faith without any basis in competency or achievement but only by virtue of already being present.
Conceptually what would it be like if we all either practiced the theory that everyone had to learn respect - or that respect would be granted to all until lost? To my mind, the ramifications are enormous. Everyone would understand the rules of the game. Everyone would understand that respect is not something granted by virtue of title or name or office but of actual achievement - or contrariwise, that everyone starts out with the respect and it is only through their inability to achieve that such a thing can be lost.
I don't know that I am arguing for one or the other. Both have issues in my opinion - earning respect can become a scheme to always make respect just out reach, granting universally ultimately leads to a devaluation as both the competent and incompetent are granted a level which perhaps they do not deserve. But should we not at least recognize how others expect us to earn respect - and more importantly, what we expect of them?
Wednesday, December 05, 2012
The Empty Feeling of Achievement
There is nothing worse than achievement that has no impact.
This is a side of achievement I don't know I have given a great deal of thought to. But not all achievement is created equal. Some achievement results in, well, results. Something happens as a result of something that has been completed.
But there's the other side of achievement, the long low exhausted breath of having done something only to realize that the breath is being taken in singleness and silence. The achievement was completed, but it resulted in nothing.
Nothing? Surely you just, you may be thinking. All achievement has some outcome, even it is merely the outcome of the individual having completed that which they had started. Even that can be considered an outcome of something.
I suppose that is true enough - "In all toil there is profit, but mere talk comes only to want" as the writer of Proverbs says (14:23). Even in the least impactful of achievements there is some element of results, even if it is merely the impact that the thing was possible to get done and did get done as an example to others.
I have hard experience with the achievement that leads to nowhere and nothing. There is nothing less motivating than coming to the final completion of a project when the last slide is presented, the last page turned, and the last comment made - only to find that nothing happens. The overwhelming sense of failure cannot be denied, if not accompanied by a keen sense of disappointment. Achievement is meant to impact, not to be ignored.
What do I do with this sense of, if not failure, then lack of success? I'm not sure. There are only two viable options, it seems. The first is simply to select better achievements - by better, I mean begin selecting those achievements which have the potential to actually make a difference or achievements which deal with something of importance. Spend time doing impactful things and you will make an impact.
The other option is to begin to evaluate what I expect or intend to get out of every achievement. I will never be able to completely shed achievement without impact - our lives are often full of things we need to do simply to do them. But even in doing these things we can find at least one thing that will improve ourselves if not achieve the point of the exercise. The trick is to find it.
But it matters. And we have to do it. Because I can only imagine that one of the great failures in life one can feel is looking back at a life of achievement and realizing that in the end, nothing of impact was actually accomplished.
This is a side of achievement I don't know I have given a great deal of thought to. But not all achievement is created equal. Some achievement results in, well, results. Something happens as a result of something that has been completed.
But there's the other side of achievement, the long low exhausted breath of having done something only to realize that the breath is being taken in singleness and silence. The achievement was completed, but it resulted in nothing.
Nothing? Surely you just, you may be thinking. All achievement has some outcome, even it is merely the outcome of the individual having completed that which they had started. Even that can be considered an outcome of something.
I suppose that is true enough - "In all toil there is profit, but mere talk comes only to want" as the writer of Proverbs says (14:23). Even in the least impactful of achievements there is some element of results, even if it is merely the impact that the thing was possible to get done and did get done as an example to others.
I have hard experience with the achievement that leads to nowhere and nothing. There is nothing less motivating than coming to the final completion of a project when the last slide is presented, the last page turned, and the last comment made - only to find that nothing happens. The overwhelming sense of failure cannot be denied, if not accompanied by a keen sense of disappointment. Achievement is meant to impact, not to be ignored.
What do I do with this sense of, if not failure, then lack of success? I'm not sure. There are only two viable options, it seems. The first is simply to select better achievements - by better, I mean begin selecting those achievements which have the potential to actually make a difference or achievements which deal with something of importance. Spend time doing impactful things and you will make an impact.
The other option is to begin to evaluate what I expect or intend to get out of every achievement. I will never be able to completely shed achievement without impact - our lives are often full of things we need to do simply to do them. But even in doing these things we can find at least one thing that will improve ourselves if not achieve the point of the exercise. The trick is to find it.
But it matters. And we have to do it. Because I can only imagine that one of the great failures in life one can feel is looking back at a life of achievement and realizing that in the end, nothing of impact was actually accomplished.
Tuesday, December 04, 2012
Ode to A Cursor
Blinking cursor
Patient, waiting,
Keeping all my thoughts
from waiting
How is that a single bar
Allows my thoughts to travel far?
To depths of soul
or heights of mind
Through you the whole
of truth I find.
But on this morning: early, dark
Why can't I find a single spark?
Blink on, blink off
You gently tease:
"Your problem is?
Go: write with ease."
This morning, naught, except your mocking:
Why can't I find the words for talking?
Have pity then,
please do not hate me,
if on this day
the words escape me.
Patient, waiting,
Keeping all my thoughts
from waiting
How is that a single bar
Allows my thoughts to travel far?
To depths of soul
or heights of mind
Through you the whole
of truth I find.
But on this morning: early, dark
Why can't I find a single spark?
Blink on, blink off
You gently tease:
"Your problem is?
Go: write with ease."
This morning, naught, except your mocking:
Why can't I find the words for talking?
Have pity then,
please do not hate me,
if on this day
the words escape me.
Monday, December 03, 2012
Self Belief?
One of the transitions I am struggling with - let us be honest, have struggled with for some time - is the transition from being in a position of needing someone to believe in you to believing in yourself. I am certain that this transition is complicated by the fact that I am person who is too often dependent on the approval of others (but, in fairness, I wonder if it is really any different or easier for others).
Self belief - self confidence - that inner spark that tells one that one is competent to do all that one has determined one will do - is a strange thing. It seems that there are only two ways to acquire it: genetic or built.
Genetic? Mindset perhaps. There are those among us - surely you know one or even may be one - that simply seem to have always have had the inner belief that they were capable of doing whatever they could put their mind too. Sometimes the surroundings of the these individuals is not such that one would think that such a belief could ever exist - but it does.
The good news for the rest of us, I suppose, is that unlike height or speed self belief is something that can be acquired even if we don't start out with it. The problem is figuring out how to do that.
How is that done? Oh, I wish that I had a better sense of it. I do firmly believe that it is rooted in doing things and succeeding in them - from confidence, springs confidence. But doing things alone is not enough: one can do things a great many times but bereft of a belief that one can do them, one is always one failure away from feeling completely useless.
Is it something others can give? Partially. The believe of someone in you and your ability to do things can be a powerful motivator in coming to believe in yourself - but at the same time, too much reliance on others can lead to a fragile self belief, one that is ready to collapse under the first sign that such a person considers your performance a failure or simply moves on.
There is a fundamental transition and transaction that occurs somewhere within the soul, some moment when one moves from "I cannot" to "I am capable of". It is not just based solely on accomplishing things. It is much more than that. It is best represented in the case that one moves from a temporary failure being a permanent setback to a temporary failure not denting one's confidence in the ultimate outcome - and believing it.
I deeply desire to believe that this is like a muscle - it can be built over time. Yet I constantly find myself falling back into a state of not having any confidence at all, of being undercut by events and individuals (and their comments) to a state where it feels as if no matter what I do I am doomed to fail, to be exactly what I am and have always been.
To feel that self belief is merely a figment of my own imagination or something that other people can find - but not me.
I do not believe (in my lucid moments) that this is the case. I believe that there is such a thing as self belief. I have seen the outcome of its workings. I know that it exists - for others. The difficulty is finding how to make it exist for me.
Self belief - self confidence - that inner spark that tells one that one is competent to do all that one has determined one will do - is a strange thing. It seems that there are only two ways to acquire it: genetic or built.
Genetic? Mindset perhaps. There are those among us - surely you know one or even may be one - that simply seem to have always have had the inner belief that they were capable of doing whatever they could put their mind too. Sometimes the surroundings of the these individuals is not such that one would think that such a belief could ever exist - but it does.
The good news for the rest of us, I suppose, is that unlike height or speed self belief is something that can be acquired even if we don't start out with it. The problem is figuring out how to do that.
How is that done? Oh, I wish that I had a better sense of it. I do firmly believe that it is rooted in doing things and succeeding in them - from confidence, springs confidence. But doing things alone is not enough: one can do things a great many times but bereft of a belief that one can do them, one is always one failure away from feeling completely useless.
Is it something others can give? Partially. The believe of someone in you and your ability to do things can be a powerful motivator in coming to believe in yourself - but at the same time, too much reliance on others can lead to a fragile self belief, one that is ready to collapse under the first sign that such a person considers your performance a failure or simply moves on.
There is a fundamental transition and transaction that occurs somewhere within the soul, some moment when one moves from "I cannot" to "I am capable of". It is not just based solely on accomplishing things. It is much more than that. It is best represented in the case that one moves from a temporary failure being a permanent setback to a temporary failure not denting one's confidence in the ultimate outcome - and believing it.
I deeply desire to believe that this is like a muscle - it can be built over time. Yet I constantly find myself falling back into a state of not having any confidence at all, of being undercut by events and individuals (and their comments) to a state where it feels as if no matter what I do I am doomed to fail, to be exactly what I am and have always been.
To feel that self belief is merely a figment of my own imagination or something that other people can find - but not me.
I do not believe (in my lucid moments) that this is the case. I believe that there is such a thing as self belief. I have seen the outcome of its workings. I know that it exists - for others. The difficulty is finding how to make it exist for me.
Friday, November 30, 2012
GPS Music
As you know, I'm occasionally able to bring you the websites of dear friends who have stretched their own wings in one way or another. Today I'm pleased to bring you another: my dear (and very long serving) friend Gordon, who has (with the help of his very talented wife Melissa) finally taken the plunge of the artist in business by making his music and field shows available for sale. Their new website is www.gpsmusic.biz.
Here's to hoping more of the music community gets to know the genius and talent that is readily apparent to us who have known Gordon for years.
Mazel Tov!
Here's to hoping more of the music community gets to know the genius and talent that is readily apparent to us who have known Gordon for years.
Mazel Tov!
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Journaling
I am not thinking as deeply as I need to be.
This thought came to me last night as I was in the process of journaling, something which I have been far too remiss in following up on in recent days - even as much as the last year. Why when journaling? Because writing in a journal was the origin of all that I end up doing here and other places. Journaling was the place that I began to learn to record my thoughts, to get into the habit of writing things down, and of learning to write out was occurring on the inside.
Why haven't I been journaling as much I used? I came up with three answers, none of which were particular good. One, of course, is that I perform a sort of journaling already through the medium of this blog. Me, the person who always grumbles about relying too much on technology relying on technology. A journal is a physical item to be referred to; a blog is an electronic exercise subject to deletion. An excuse, not a reason.
The second was the fact that it involves writing, which for me is difficult for two reasons. When writing, my thoughts seem to surge ahead of my ability to write them down. As a result, my penmanship (never the best) becomes more and more irregular as I go, making things less and less legible. Typing is quicker than writing, so of course this is the "better" medium. Again, excuses not a reason.
The third was time and place. My journaling ordinarily takes place at the end of my day, just prior to going to sleep. As it is the end of the day and I'm often tired the excuse becomes "Well, I just don't have time for it." Really? Not 10 minutes for a journal entry? Not 10 minutes or more to coalesce the thoughts and inputs of a 16 hour day? To quote Galaxar in Monsters vs. Aliens, "Lame".
Writing - or at least writing the way I would like to write - requires that one is able to get to the core of one's beliefs and thoughts and learn to be able to express them. Too often when I write, I feel like I am merely moving at the surface level of my thinking, that what I should be saying is deeper yet. I yearn to be more in touch with that deeper level of thought and consideration.
But to be in touch with that level is to realize that it comes from somewhere beyond the daily interactions with people and life, whether it be in person or through the medium of this blog. It comes from being able to write freely, deeply, pondering with questions and thoughts which we may never have the ability or courage to ask of or speak others. For myself, that can only come through the seemingly archaic form of placing pen on paper.
And so I need to recommit to the process of journaling on a daily basis. I need to increase the fundamental process of learning to thinking (as Stephen Covey would say "in deep, sustained ways". Like an explorer seeking the purest water, I need to go to the origin of the river to get that which I truly desire.
This thought came to me last night as I was in the process of journaling, something which I have been far too remiss in following up on in recent days - even as much as the last year. Why when journaling? Because writing in a journal was the origin of all that I end up doing here and other places. Journaling was the place that I began to learn to record my thoughts, to get into the habit of writing things down, and of learning to write out was occurring on the inside.
Why haven't I been journaling as much I used? I came up with three answers, none of which were particular good. One, of course, is that I perform a sort of journaling already through the medium of this blog. Me, the person who always grumbles about relying too much on technology relying on technology. A journal is a physical item to be referred to; a blog is an electronic exercise subject to deletion. An excuse, not a reason.
The second was the fact that it involves writing, which for me is difficult for two reasons. When writing, my thoughts seem to surge ahead of my ability to write them down. As a result, my penmanship (never the best) becomes more and more irregular as I go, making things less and less legible. Typing is quicker than writing, so of course this is the "better" medium. Again, excuses not a reason.
The third was time and place. My journaling ordinarily takes place at the end of my day, just prior to going to sleep. As it is the end of the day and I'm often tired the excuse becomes "Well, I just don't have time for it." Really? Not 10 minutes for a journal entry? Not 10 minutes or more to coalesce the thoughts and inputs of a 16 hour day? To quote Galaxar in Monsters vs. Aliens, "Lame".
Writing - or at least writing the way I would like to write - requires that one is able to get to the core of one's beliefs and thoughts and learn to be able to express them. Too often when I write, I feel like I am merely moving at the surface level of my thinking, that what I should be saying is deeper yet. I yearn to be more in touch with that deeper level of thought and consideration.
But to be in touch with that level is to realize that it comes from somewhere beyond the daily interactions with people and life, whether it be in person or through the medium of this blog. It comes from being able to write freely, deeply, pondering with questions and thoughts which we may never have the ability or courage to ask of or speak others. For myself, that can only come through the seemingly archaic form of placing pen on paper.
And so I need to recommit to the process of journaling on a daily basis. I need to increase the fundamental process of learning to thinking (as Stephen Covey would say "in deep, sustained ways". Like an explorer seeking the purest water, I need to go to the origin of the river to get that which I truly desire.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
The Invulnerable Aura of Invincibility
Two points yesterday and today to get my attention:
1) Fear Mor sends me a text a 0200 in the morning that he is being admitted to the hospital. Later cause is determined to be pancreatitis.
2) Facebook post: A good friend is diagnosed with testicular cancer and goals into surgery today for removal. No evidence it has spread and a high belief it can be removed.
It's a solemn reminder, the sort of cold water splash to the face that makes one stop and take notice of where one is and what one is doing (and let's be honest, complaining about) in life. These two friends of mine bracket my age category.
One always hears about the "aura of invincibility" that the young seem to have, this sense that they can do anything and not suffer the consequences. I suppose it makes sense - the less clever among us would simply call it a lack of experience - this belief that nothing really bad can happen to you. But what I find myself confronting now is when - or even if - we lose that feeling ourselves.
The reality for all is that time is not our friend. Part of the reason I suppose many people feel invulnerable is that their bodies simply have the ability to absorb more when they are young. But time and age come to all and the sense that we had that we can do anything is replaced by the very really data our bodies do not always respond as we would like or want them too.
Why does this matter? Because this aura convinces us that we have all the time in the world: There is always tomorrow to get to the things that matter. We can fill our life with that which is less than truly important. We actually have time to waste, because more time will always be there - and we will have the health to enjoy and use it.
Ultimately, the Invulnerable Aura of Invincibility convinces us that we are other than what we really are.
Spare a prayer or at least a thought for my friends, of course. They need them.
But also take a moment to reflect what assumptions we make about our health and our time and our ability to do that which we are to be about doing. Let us not fool ourselves that things will always be as they have been.
1) Fear Mor sends me a text a 0200 in the morning that he is being admitted to the hospital. Later cause is determined to be pancreatitis.
2) Facebook post: A good friend is diagnosed with testicular cancer and goals into surgery today for removal. No evidence it has spread and a high belief it can be removed.
It's a solemn reminder, the sort of cold water splash to the face that makes one stop and take notice of where one is and what one is doing (and let's be honest, complaining about) in life. These two friends of mine bracket my age category.
One always hears about the "aura of invincibility" that the young seem to have, this sense that they can do anything and not suffer the consequences. I suppose it makes sense - the less clever among us would simply call it a lack of experience - this belief that nothing really bad can happen to you. But what I find myself confronting now is when - or even if - we lose that feeling ourselves.
The reality for all is that time is not our friend. Part of the reason I suppose many people feel invulnerable is that their bodies simply have the ability to absorb more when they are young. But time and age come to all and the sense that we had that we can do anything is replaced by the very really data our bodies do not always respond as we would like or want them too.
Why does this matter? Because this aura convinces us that we have all the time in the world: There is always tomorrow to get to the things that matter. We can fill our life with that which is less than truly important. We actually have time to waste, because more time will always be there - and we will have the health to enjoy and use it.
Ultimately, the Invulnerable Aura of Invincibility convinces us that we are other than what we really are.
Spare a prayer or at least a thought for my friends, of course. They need them.
But also take a moment to reflect what assumptions we make about our health and our time and our ability to do that which we are to be about doing. Let us not fool ourselves that things will always be as they have been.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Light Switch
Trying to reassess things.
I actually had to make a decision this week, a decision about a place to be. I had an opportunity but for the first time in a long time I sat and thought about where I was and where I would probably need to be. The outcome of the decision was that I decided to maintain the status quo.
The difficulty with actually making a decision, of course, is that there are ramifications. If you choose something, something else won't happen. In my case, the something was an additional series of tasks that need to be completed with little to no resources to make their completion happen.
The immediate result of this is to find myself fighting this vague sense of hopelessness that seems to come as a result of the decision: the sense that nothing is really going to change as a result of not making a change. I consciously know I need to fight this of course - a lack of change in one thing does not indicate that all things cannot change - but there is the very real sense that one can slip into it easily.
I intuitively grasp that the focus needs to be on what can be changed instead of what can't be, but the difficulty (as I often seem to find) is twofold: one is simply determining which category an activity falls into, the other is determining what impact such actions will have. The reality too often is that it seems that even with those things we can impact the result is quite small and washed away in the flood of decisions of those things that we can't change but have greater impact.
So I end up finding myself on the knife's edge of emotions: trying to feel empowered about doing something even as I try to prevent tumbling off the other side from the inability to influence the things that are occurring in my life.
Is this always true of all decisions, this careful balance between empowerment of action and despair of consequences? I have to believe that some level it always is - which leads me, in retrospect, to consider all the other decisions I have made that may not have gone so well for me: did I allow the euphoria of being empowered to overrule the realization that consequences were coming that I could not control (in some cases they most definitely were; I was just too full of myself to see them).
Which leaves me, as it so often seems to, with the sense of feeling my way around in the dark after having consciously turned a light with only a candle left in my hand to navigate obstacles.
I actually had to make a decision this week, a decision about a place to be. I had an opportunity but for the first time in a long time I sat and thought about where I was and where I would probably need to be. The outcome of the decision was that I decided to maintain the status quo.
The difficulty with actually making a decision, of course, is that there are ramifications. If you choose something, something else won't happen. In my case, the something was an additional series of tasks that need to be completed with little to no resources to make their completion happen.
The immediate result of this is to find myself fighting this vague sense of hopelessness that seems to come as a result of the decision: the sense that nothing is really going to change as a result of not making a change. I consciously know I need to fight this of course - a lack of change in one thing does not indicate that all things cannot change - but there is the very real sense that one can slip into it easily.
I intuitively grasp that the focus needs to be on what can be changed instead of what can't be, but the difficulty (as I often seem to find) is twofold: one is simply determining which category an activity falls into, the other is determining what impact such actions will have. The reality too often is that it seems that even with those things we can impact the result is quite small and washed away in the flood of decisions of those things that we can't change but have greater impact.
So I end up finding myself on the knife's edge of emotions: trying to feel empowered about doing something even as I try to prevent tumbling off the other side from the inability to influence the things that are occurring in my life.
Is this always true of all decisions, this careful balance between empowerment of action and despair of consequences? I have to believe that some level it always is - which leads me, in retrospect, to consider all the other decisions I have made that may not have gone so well for me: did I allow the euphoria of being empowered to overrule the realization that consequences were coming that I could not control (in some cases they most definitely were; I was just too full of myself to see them).
Which leaves me, as it so often seems to, with the sense of feeling my way around in the dark after having consciously turned a light with only a candle left in my hand to navigate obstacles.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Nanowrimo 2012
Guess who met their goal last night?
Final count: 50,031 words, 28 chapters, 21 days (of a possible 30) spent writing to create it.
I would be lying to relate that I felt no rush of adrenaline when I put the text into the word calculator and it spit the number back out at me. I was extremely elated. This was a goal met - in less time than it was supposed to take. Even better, this was something which I attempted and failed to achieve the previous year.
Sweet, sweet victory.
It gave me pause to look back upon the year and consider things - and realize that I had met many goals that I have set for myself:
- Participated in Highland Games (did two, actually).
- Ran in a race (two actually, with times that were respectable).
- Complete and publish a book (Completed and published two).
- Completed Nanowrimo
- Made more cheese (and found some that were quite popular, actually).
- Dehydrated fruit (and found some favorites for my family).
There were many others that I haven't completed yet - and this is what gives me pause and reason to think: what is different about the things listed above that I achieved versus many of the other things (some of them very important) that I failed to achieve? The only things I can think of off hand are:
- Opportunity (either something I created or something that is known and available).
- Control (All of the activities listed above are completely within my purview as to their ability to be completed as they are all dependent on me)
- Time based (in some kind or fashion, from the rigid time of cheese making to the self-imposed goal of writing 50,000 words in 30 days)
So how do I take this victory - these victories - and use the lessons that I've learned and apply them to my life?
Certainly the greatest difference for many of these goals that I have yet to resolve is that they are partially or completely outside of my ability to control. But I'm equally as certain the individuals have dealt with things just like this - events outside of their control - and managed to move forward regardless. By focusing on that which lay in their control? Perhaps. By putting a time limit on it or understanding what the opportunities are? Possibly. But there is a core to all of this. Something that I can take and apply to the rest of my life.
But that is to be evaluated and considered moving ahead. Today is a day to revel in the fact that I can do things which previously I believed to be impossible.
Hurray to me.
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