Time for My Own Lunch

I have a distinct memory of being in camp, at the age of ten, and being asked which kind of sandwich I wanted: tuna fish or peanut butter and jelly. Had I been eight, there would have been no question - that was the year I insisted on taking peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to school every day for lunch, come rain or shine, to the great dismay of my mother, who thought I should be more gustatorily diverse. But by ten, I was willing to eat tuna fish (also, this wasn't a school lunch - I don't remember not liking tuna; I just didn't want it in school, and I have no recollection of why not - whether I was avoiding tuna fish (and egg salad and deli), or simply liked PB&J).

So, there I was in camp, charged with the somber task of choosing between tuna and peanut butter and jelly, and in order to make my decision, I looked at my cousin to see what she wanted. To be fair, she also looked at me, but I would wager without any hesitation that I would lose the bet that we both ate my cousin's lunch preference that day.

I have thought about this incident many times over the years. Especially when I deemed it an example of a larger phenomenon. The puzzle has been figuring out the nature of that phenomenon.

I mean, I can't really call it "peer pressure." My cousin might have been tickled at the idea that we had the same preferences (as we most often truly did, then), but she certainly did nothing to dissuade me from making my own decision, or to convince me to follow her eating habits. Surely, it reflects an insecurity on my part that my own choice was less valid, somehow. But whyever would I feel that my own preferences were worth so little that I didn't even bother to think about what I might like, given my druthers?

Keep in mind that these reflections focus on a decision - or lack thereof - that took place in a few instants, without discussion. And it may well be that I am making a mountain out of molehill (having already established my tendency to follow my cousin in her ice cream choices, for example - at around the same age). But I don't think so....

Because, years later, I was a house-guest of friends who had married quite young, and recall wondering at their ability to live according to their own decisions. I was impressed by some of their less traditional choices of decor, and so on. I remember marveling that they had no qualms about doing what they wanted to do (like the camp lunch, the details I noted were mundane, and in retrospect, I find it far more remarkable that I was impressed by them than anything they actually did; they were not iconoclasts in the least). I remember identifying my wonder in the fact that I had never felt that I had the right to "do my own thing," and therefore had never bothered to think about what I might want to do, given the opportunity to choose. I'm guessing that I was twenty-four (give or take) at the time.

The irony is that I always had strong preferences of what I liked and didn't. To wit, a year of PB&J with no deviance. To wit, my outright refusal to wear clothes I didn't like (again, to the dismay of my mother; she finally (almost) learned my style - to her credit). To wit, my stubborn practice of defying the family norms when they conflicted with my own beliefs.

My malleability was never that. Not realizing that I had a right to my own preferences never meant I didn't have them - when I let myself. I wonder whether holding back from expressing them - nay, acknowledging them, and even realizing them - was a defense mechanism to avoid disappointment. Keeping myself quiet, and not just in decibel, to avoid critique. After all, when I was partial to something, I was fairly attached to my own inclination. If I didn't have a favorite, however, I couldn't be frustrated when I couldn't actualize my druthers. Nor could I be derided for it.

I wonder how much I have held myself back...by aiming for the expectations of others, instead of stopping to consider where my own propensity will take me.

Of course, I'm much stronger in this aspect of self than I have been. In my ripe old age (sic), not only do I acknowledge my preferences, but I ask myself what I do want (or try to ask, anyway). Now, the challenge is indeed bringing my desires to actuality - challenging not because so many factors are beyond human control, but simply because acknowledging wants is easier than making them happen. Not everything is a tuna fish sandwich.

What If I Don't Want to "Just Say No"?

When is "peer pressure" not peer pressure?

Perhaps when kids are doing what they want to do, even if their friends are doing it too (and even when they need the encouragement of their friends to do what they want to do).

When the concept of peer pressure was explained to me as a kid, and with the standard exhortations and warnings not to fall prey to it, the example was drugs - if I recall correctly (even if I don't, drugs is a good example of when not to give in to peer pressure). "Just say no" became a slogan, far beyond the Nike campaign, to all kinds of unwanted (perhaps even wanted) sexual activity in magazines for teenage girls.

A lot of cyber-ink has been virtually spilled over teenage practice when it conflicts with the behavior preferred by the adults (parents and teachers and clergy) responsible for those teens. The question is how much of that activity is the result of pressure from peers and how much derives from the initiative of each individual teenager (even in being part of the group)?

One recent example that highlights this divergence, I believe, is the newly-labeled "half-Shabbos," for teens who are raised in Orthodox Jewish homes, and are expected to comply with the Orthodox Jewish standards for Sabbath observance, but do not, in one particular and particularly insidious way: they txt. That is, they use their ubiquitous cell phones to send text messages to each other over the course of the Jewish Sabbath, when the accepted Orthodox standard is to refrain from using electronic devices from dusk on Friday night to sundown on Saturday night. The Orthodox standard is sometimes honored more in the breach than in the observance by adults who would label themselves "Orthodox," but this concern emerges from those adults who sincerely adhere to the Jewish laws, even when the practices fly in the face of people's intuitive comfort zone.

It is for good reason that the parents and teachers/clergy who are responsible for these teens are concerned about their breach of Sabbath observance. The main reason for upset is surely for the desecration of the Sabbath, in any way. But some aspect of the tableau is worry against future desecration: the slippery slope of inattention to the sanctity of the Sabbath.

Perhaps that diagnosis is accurate, and the fear for the next generation of Sabbath-observant Jews is warranted. After all, society is changing fast, in accord with new technology, such that texting is an addictive scourge for some adults as well. But I would wager that the kids who are texting on the day of rest are not acting out of spite or malice. Rather, I would guess that they simply want to be in touch with their friends in such an overpowering way, with such a fear of missing out, that they succumb to their baser texting desires.

Not good, surely. Not a true appreciation of the value of a day off from the ever-present lure of being available. But not quite the same as actively denigrating the Sabbath day.

I'm not excusing it. I'm just saying that teenagers are far more likely to prioritize talking to their friends than they are likely to appreciate the benefits of "unplugging" for a day each week. I mean, what teen really wants to miss out on whatever communication their friends are conducting?

Really, we should convince all the kids, including those who are truly not interested in observing the Sabbath to desist from texting each week. That way, those who are Sabbath-observant would have less to entice them to use the electronic devices by which they violate the Sabbath (aka cell phones).

I was lucky. I was never particularly pressured to do anything I didn't want to do. Or if I was, I was stubborn enough in my own sense of what I thought was right for me to do that I didn't notice it as "pressure." But the desire to do what my peers were doing - yes, that I felt. Whether it was a matter of fashion (e.g., the colorful Benetton vests that were de rigueur but quite expensive), or socializing (going for pizza on a Friday afternoon), or just being in "the know." But my desire to be fully part of the goings on of my peers was my own. Nobody was pushing me to wear a Benetton vest, after all - and I never did, except for one afternoon, when I was cold, and a friend (whose name I barely remember, if I do) lent me hers. My mother freely acknowledges that she did not grasp the importance of my need to follow the madding crowd. I suppose I'm individualistic enough that when I wanted to "fit in," it was all the more important that I do so, even if Mom did not agree.

My point is that the choice to follow the crowd can surely be a valid choice - even when the parents and the teachers don't like it. Moreover, the priorities of teenagers are likely to change as they become adults - as they surely did for the parents and teachers of those same teens. The issues (of Sabbath observance, for example) are incredibly important. I do not mean to diminish them in any way - I am as dismayed as the rest of the adults who are dismayed. At the same time, I understand why the kids who text on the Sabbath are choosing to text. Moreover, it is not at all clear to me that they are actively, consciously choosing to violate the rest of the day, though they know the law that prohibits them from texting.

Quick: Shopaholic?

There are a number of ways to be a shopper. You could be a Window Shopper or an Impulse Buyer or a Conservative Consumer. Or you could simply hate shopping and resent the requirement to ever purchase anything.

The Window Shopper enjoys the process of seeing what there is out there. Eyeing the displays for ideas, or for the pleasure of viewing that which is aesthetically pleasing. Considering the merits and demerits of each item. The Window Shopper is in the shopping experience for the shopping, not the buying. She (or he) can (will) leave a mall with few (or no) packages in tow, and still be able to consider the day well spent.

The Impulse Buyer buys on impulse - exactly as it sounds. The Impulse Buyer doesn't need a list to purchase.  In fact, items on a list might be ignored for the "great new find." The great new find may or may not actually have a place in the home, but the Impulse Buyer will be satisfied with the purchase(s), having spotted the (previously inconceivable) perfect thing, and having brought it home successfully.

The Conservative Consumer will appreciate a purchase made well. Research will have been conducted to target the best brand and the best buy. The price should be low and the quality high. Sometimes, the Conservative Consumer will deliberate a purchase past the sell-by date, and be relieved that the decision is made. But when she (or he) does buy the item under consideration, you can rest assured that the transaction was undertaken with confidence.

All three of these types will enjoy shopping. Under the right circumstances, we might dub any of the above, "shopaholic."

There are variations on the themes, of course. When the Impulse Buyer who is a Window-Shopper-Who-Buys-Quickly. Not often - but on occasion, the Window Shopper may buy with speed and conviction.  There’s the directed Impulse Buyer, who makes some purchases on the fly, but competes with the Conservative Consumer’s deliberative stance for others.

Is this a choice?  Well, even if it's all a matter of personality, and not subject to the individual shopper’s choice, said shopper makes many choices in the course of her (or his) trip to the store (or the website, as the case may be). Indeed, the details of shopping deserve further (future) consideration in a blog called “Choices.”

Keeping in mind that “materialist” is a different characterization from “shopaholic,” which kind are you? Or are you a different kind of shopper altogether? Or even the kind who avoids shopping at all costs?

Me, I'm a combination of all of the above, depending on the objective, and my mood.

Solace

Where is it, actually?

That is, the solace when things do not turn out as you choose.

Not the little things, where one can say, "too bad for me." But the bigger deals...Where, after all kinds of deliberation, or flipping a coin, when the decision is made, and strides are taken to accomplish the particular goal....the turn of events may still be other than you choose.

If you find your dream house, scramble together financing, agonize whether you can afford the effort, grip yourself for the long-term commitment, make your offer...the deal may not go through. Your decision, though a prerequisite to the purchase, isn't the deciding factor.

If you and your spouse bite the bullet, and decide it's time for kids...Similarly, you figure out the finances (or decide it's irrelevant, as you want to have children regardless), accept the challenges of pregnancy (not to mention labor), throw away the birth control, even calculate the ovulation cycle....conceiving may take longer than you wish (and it may involve technology that takes all the fun out of the propagation of the species).

If you decide on your profession (doctor, lawyer, academic, chimney sweep), you take all the prerequisites courses, you attend the appropriate graduate school (and work really really hard)...pass your boards...get a job....your profession may not treat you as well as you expected. The job may be more grueling or less fun than you anticipated. You may be thwarted by factors beyond your control (the boss's nephew needs a promotion; your advisor dies; the economy changes and your industry no longer needs you).

If you decide that the girl (or guy) of your dreams is indeed the girl (or guy) of your dreams, wine her (him), dine her (him), whisper all kinds of sweet nothings...progress in the relationship down a serious path....you may still discover that you are not in her (his) dreams in the same way. Your recognition of your soul mate only works when she (he) views you in kind.

It's true of nearly anything that you decide. No matter how much you plan, no matter how much you prepare, no matter how hard you work for your goal....your choice for yourself is not only up to you. Nearly never. If you are a perfectionist, you are likely to work harder. And if you time your cards right, with the perfect degree of patience and ingenuity, you may indeed achieve your plan. But even the perfectionists among us can't control the external factors that seem to conspire against us.

So, from whence solace?  If "magical thinking" isn't working...that is, if you can't convince yourself that the undesired outcome is the better one for you, in the long run, even when you don't see why.

Perhaps the solace comes from recognizing that you did everything you were "supposed" to do. You went through all the motions - seriously. You undertook the decision, and you acted on it, with the intent of carrying it out.  If forces beyond your control conspire against you, whether in the form of an act of God or another's foibles, well, at least you know that you made your decision and you followed it through. The comfort is knowing that you did everything you possibly could to achieve your desire. If it doesn't happen, that is a shame, and disappointing, and sometimes heartbreaking. But you may take refuge in the knowledge that when things fell apart (or just didn't work out), it wasn't because you didn't try, or didn't care, or didn't follow through on your choice. At a certain point (after all is said and done), everything is truly out of our hands - if only because of the many factors involved in every single little thing (how much more so, the big things).

Humility is recognizing our strengths and also our weaknesses. We step back and say - we gave it our all. That is our strength. When we are forced to recognize that our strength isn't enough - that is our weakness. A crying shame to have to admit to. Disappointment, to be sure. But solace in that we worked our strengths to achieve our goals. The rest is simply beyond.