I would like to claim that I haven't been posting much because of the sad season on the Jewish calender. The three weeks between the two fasts of the 17th day of the Hebrew month of Tammuz and the 9th day of the Hebrew month of Av are a time of mourning for the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, ending the era of Jewish sovereignty 2,000 years ago. Creative endeavors, at least completing them, are discouraged, in recognition of the fact that creativity may well engender joy. If I had refrained from posting to this blog for that reason, I might be justified. I do enjoy crafting these posts, after all.
But I made no conscious decision to avoid posting during this time. To the contrary! Every day, I have decided that today, I will complete post X, plan post Y, and think about post Z. Instead, I...don't. No decision made. Simply inertia running the show, until I realize that the evening is over, and bedtime should be considered, and the blog posts deferred until tomorrow.
This planning for tomorrow has been the default a few too many days in a row (maybe a week!). I cannot know what tomorrow will actually bring, of course. And since tomorrow is indeed that second fast day, Tisha B'Av, the ninth of Av, the odds are slim that I will post again before the day of somber, mournful fasting is ended.
But the plan for the blog has not grown cold, and my decision to pursue this particular creativity is sharp still. Inertia does not conquer conscious decisions in the long run. Or, not as long as I remember the plan!
Stay tuned, please.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
Bad Choices: Hateful Speech
Hate speech is objectively a bad choice. But the rest of it - of all speech, really - is largely, if not entirely, in the ears of the beholder.
How to choose what to say, when to say, how to say....inevitably risks bad choices.
Personally, I hate foul language. I rarely use it and rarely like hearing it from others (a few notable exceptions come to mind, but they are exceptions because of who they are, and they don't overpower my norms). Others use foul language to fit into their environment, or because they think it's cool, or because they don't even notice "foul language" as distinct from all other language.
The best is when you are comfortable enough in conversation to not worry about speaking properly or nicely. I once found myself shopping for dinnerware, and in perfect agreement with my shopping buddy regarding what was "horrible." And then I suggested that now that we knew we were comfortable enough to speak so freely, we might do well to refrain from using the extreme language. After all, we might not always agree. Indeed, the next time (or the only subsequent time that matters) he expressed his view that something was horrible was after pushing me for my opinion of something rather private and precious. "Horrible" may have been his legitimate opinion, but I'm fairly certain that we would have been better off if, in his comfort to share his true perspective, he had been wise enough to rephrase, if only just that once.
Sometimes, people utter their views with extreme language. That approach is testimony to their passion, and fairly impressive and even enticing to one who has been trained to academic caution (couching every statement in hesitation, lest it be disproven down the road) - that would be me. The danger of expressing yourself with vehemence or effusiveness, however, is that people may well take you seriously, and you may indeed be "disproven down the road," or simply change your mind (with equivalent vehemence or effusiveness)- in which case, you are less likely to be taken seriously the next time around. For the kind of person who is extreme in his or her thinking and open enough to express that passion, not being taken seriously would surely be a prime insult.
How to say what to say when to say....In a sense, the very willingness to speak leads to risky choices.
Perhaps it is "better to remain silent and be thought a fool, then to open your mouth and remove all doubt" (taken from Proverbs: "Even a fool, when he holds his peace, is thought wise; he who seals his lips is considered a person of understanding" (17:28).
But the benefits of positive communication are truly tempting, even with the pitfalls of saying the wrong thing.
Friday, July 22, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, July 11, 2011
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.
Monday, July 4, 2011
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.
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.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Bad Choices: Negligence
Can I post about negligence when I still haven't fulfilled the responsibility that I'd neglected? (Suffice it to say that a deadline passed on the calendar, and despite the fact that I'd been aware of it the week before, I missed it, and was rather mortified, and surprised to discover that. Now, once missed, it seems easy to continue to defer.)
Negligence is often rooted in apathy. Sometimes, inadvertent apathy, as in my case, where I had every expectation of meeting my deadline. But the week in which it appeared was somehow fraught, and the responsibility at hand received insufficient attention. Hence, apathy. Leading to negligence.
How can negligence be a matter of choice? That is, unless there is a conscious, active decision to ignore a responsibility. Negligence is rarely a matter of choice. But therein lies the "bad choice." The bad choice of not paying attention.
Bad choices began in Eden. And while the snake acted out of spite (he's called "tricky," or "subtle," or "crafty," depending on your translation), and Eve responded to temptation (she suddenly saw that the fruit looked quite appealing: "good to eat, and pleasing to the eye"), Adam was guilty of negligence. He simply stopped paying attention. That is, Eve gave Adam the fruit, and he ate it. Done. He ate it. What, did he forget?!? God had given him very explicit instructions about not eating that particular fruit. To think that he didn't realize what he was doing...well, anyone can make that kind of mistake. Just wasn't paying attention. We've all made errors like that... But his absence of awareness was rather costly.
I'm hoping my own negligence yields no more lasting ramifications than my own mortification. Which, if I didn't mention it here, you wouldn't even know about. Though perhaps, if nothing else, by articulating our inattentions, we bring them to our attention, and combat the lazy inclination to be distracted from tasks that await our gaze.
Negligence is often rooted in apathy. Sometimes, inadvertent apathy, as in my case, where I had every expectation of meeting my deadline. But the week in which it appeared was somehow fraught, and the responsibility at hand received insufficient attention. Hence, apathy. Leading to negligence.
How can negligence be a matter of choice? That is, unless there is a conscious, active decision to ignore a responsibility. Negligence is rarely a matter of choice. But therein lies the "bad choice." The bad choice of not paying attention.
Bad choices began in Eden. And while the snake acted out of spite (he's called "tricky," or "subtle," or "crafty," depending on your translation), and Eve responded to temptation (she suddenly saw that the fruit looked quite appealing: "good to eat, and pleasing to the eye"), Adam was guilty of negligence. He simply stopped paying attention. That is, Eve gave Adam the fruit, and he ate it. Done. He ate it. What, did he forget?!? God had given him very explicit instructions about not eating that particular fruit. To think that he didn't realize what he was doing...well, anyone can make that kind of mistake. Just wasn't paying attention. We've all made errors like that... But his absence of awareness was rather costly.
I'm hoping my own negligence yields no more lasting ramifications than my own mortification. Which, if I didn't mention it here, you wouldn't even know about. Though perhaps, if nothing else, by articulating our inattentions, we bring them to our attention, and combat the lazy inclination to be distracted from tasks that await our gaze.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
The Big Ones
One might argue that every choice we make changes our lives. One would be right, but that doesn't make every choice count as a "life-changing decision." The big ones are the ones for which I would like that window to the future. In the continued absence of reliable prophecy in my life, however, I'd like to recognize that not all "big decisions" are made in the same way, even by the same people.
Some decisions are weighed carefully, pros and cons, ad nauseum.
Some decisions are transferred to experts, for their valued opinions.
Some decisions are deferred until the default becomes the decision.
Some decisions are made impulsively - yes, even the big ones. Sometimes, especially them.
Some decisions are so difficult to make that they aren't decided; just carried out.
Some decisions aren't made - they are simply that obvious a course of action. No thinking required.
Personally, I most often weigh my decisions carefully, ad nauseum. In the process, I tend to search out the opinions of others, sometimes because I value their input, and sometimes because I know I will "know my own mind" by means of my reaction to their views. I have, on occasion, made big decisions without thinking - perhaps being impulsive (alternatively, "going with my gut"). Rarely, if ever, am I willing to ignore the fact that decision remains to be made, and let the status quo reign (unless I've consciously decided to go with the status quo, of course).
The advantage of being an "active decision-maker," is that I'm rarely caught unawares. Thinking through every angle of an option removes a lot of the surprises that might result otherwise. The disadvantage is that I remain aware of the pros and cons of my choice. For most of my life, I have rarely had reason to rethink myself (after all that deliberation). I am generally left with the power of my own convictions. But I wonder if I'm ever as "gung-ho" about anything as those who don't examine all the angles are able to be. Moreover, of late, I find that I can blame this personality of mine for (sometimes) bequeathing me with decisions that I know I have made well, yet somehow remain ambivalent about. This is new. Moreover, I may (perhaps) be hampered in my ability to be as enamored of the things I have chosen -- despite the care that informs my choice.
Big decisions are just that -- BIG. People get cold feet before their weddings. Moving house is traumatic. When my sister was asked when she and her husband were going to start a family, she answered that they'd be getting a dog first (for the record, that didn't happen, but kids are most definitely a life-changing big "decision," even when the desire to have them is a given). Making life-changes, even when you know what you want, and want it desperately, often takes time. Still, when the desire to live out your dreams is burning, then the choices along the way to the dream can be rendered incidental. When you have many dreams, however, and the ability to live them is not entirely under your control (it never is), the desire is inherently more complicated, and the choices are anything but incidental. Then, the big decisions must be made - consciously, deliberately, and often with ambivalence. Thus, we grab the proverbial bull by its proverbial horns, and await the results and consequences of our choices. It doesn't nullify ambivalence. But, actually, it's not a bad way to live with confidence.
Some decisions are weighed carefully, pros and cons, ad nauseum.
Some decisions are transferred to experts, for their valued opinions.
Some decisions are deferred until the default becomes the decision.
Some decisions are made impulsively - yes, even the big ones. Sometimes, especially them.
Some decisions are so difficult to make that they aren't decided; just carried out.
Some decisions aren't made - they are simply that obvious a course of action. No thinking required.
Personally, I most often weigh my decisions carefully, ad nauseum. In the process, I tend to search out the opinions of others, sometimes because I value their input, and sometimes because I know I will "know my own mind" by means of my reaction to their views. I have, on occasion, made big decisions without thinking - perhaps being impulsive (alternatively, "going with my gut"). Rarely, if ever, am I willing to ignore the fact that decision remains to be made, and let the status quo reign (unless I've consciously decided to go with the status quo, of course).
The advantage of being an "active decision-maker," is that I'm rarely caught unawares. Thinking through every angle of an option removes a lot of the surprises that might result otherwise. The disadvantage is that I remain aware of the pros and cons of my choice. For most of my life, I have rarely had reason to rethink myself (after all that deliberation). I am generally left with the power of my own convictions. But I wonder if I'm ever as "gung-ho" about anything as those who don't examine all the angles are able to be. Moreover, of late, I find that I can blame this personality of mine for (sometimes) bequeathing me with decisions that I know I have made well, yet somehow remain ambivalent about. This is new. Moreover, I may (perhaps) be hampered in my ability to be as enamored of the things I have chosen -- despite the care that informs my choice.
Big decisions are just that -- BIG. People get cold feet before their weddings. Moving house is traumatic. When my sister was asked when she and her husband were going to start a family, she answered that they'd be getting a dog first (for the record, that didn't happen, but kids are most definitely a life-changing big "decision," even when the desire to have them is a given). Making life-changes, even when you know what you want, and want it desperately, often takes time. Still, when the desire to live out your dreams is burning, then the choices along the way to the dream can be rendered incidental. When you have many dreams, however, and the ability to live them is not entirely under your control (it never is), the desire is inherently more complicated, and the choices are anything but incidental. Then, the big decisions must be made - consciously, deliberately, and often with ambivalence. Thus, we grab the proverbial bull by its proverbial horns, and await the results and consequences of our choices. It doesn't nullify ambivalence. But, actually, it's not a bad way to live with confidence.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Quick: Car or Public Transportation?
Let's say that money is no object. It always is, of course, but if financial constraints were to win the day, then very few people would be driving personal cars.
Would you rather drive yourself? Or would you rather join the hoi polloi on the bus or the train? Note that "public transportation" in this choice does not include bicycles or unicycles or skateboards or feet. The question is a narrow one: when you need to travel to a place that is far enough that the "green" modes of transportation are not viable, what is your preference?
In your own car, you're (largely) in control. You set climate and entertainment (not to mention the angle of your seat) in accord with your own comfort. You "own the road." You're also traveling on your own schedule. Of course, in your own car, you also have to be alert (please, please no texting!!). No ability do anything last minute "on the way." You have to have gas in the tank, and cash for tolls (or an E-Z Pass). And let's not forget directions (or GPS) to get you where you're going.
The bus/train option may have inconvenient departure and arrival times, but gives you the wonderful (sometimes) opportunity to sit back and enjoy the ride. Your level of responsibility for your transportation is minimal. And if you enjoy making new friends and influencing people, you may just have the chance to do so while sitting amongst your fellow travelers. Of course, once you consider inter-city buses and subways, the experience may take a turn for the worse. Unless you enjoy ever closer proximity with your fellow travelers (and on occasion, their stench).
I like driving. Not traffic. Really not traffic. But I like getting myself where I want to be. I like the independence. I don't even mind getting lost (though it is more than a little nerve-wracking when there are time constraints, and I need to draw upon the generous assistance of friends to navigate for me via the computer map and cell phone). But the open road with a view - I just can't complain.
How about you?
Would you rather drive yourself? Or would you rather join the hoi polloi on the bus or the train? Note that "public transportation" in this choice does not include bicycles or unicycles or skateboards or feet. The question is a narrow one: when you need to travel to a place that is far enough that the "green" modes of transportation are not viable, what is your preference?
In your own car, you're (largely) in control. You set climate and entertainment (not to mention the angle of your seat) in accord with your own comfort. You "own the road." You're also traveling on your own schedule. Of course, in your own car, you also have to be alert (please, please no texting!!). No ability do anything last minute "on the way." You have to have gas in the tank, and cash for tolls (or an E-Z Pass). And let's not forget directions (or GPS) to get you where you're going.
The bus/train option may have inconvenient departure and arrival times, but gives you the wonderful (sometimes) opportunity to sit back and enjoy the ride. Your level of responsibility for your transportation is minimal. And if you enjoy making new friends and influencing people, you may just have the chance to do so while sitting amongst your fellow travelers. Of course, once you consider inter-city buses and subways, the experience may take a turn for the worse. Unless you enjoy ever closer proximity with your fellow travelers (and on occasion, their stench).
I like driving. Not traffic. Really not traffic. But I like getting myself where I want to be. I like the independence. I don't even mind getting lost (though it is more than a little nerve-wracking when there are time constraints, and I need to draw upon the generous assistance of friends to navigate for me via the computer map and cell phone). But the open road with a view - I just can't complain.
How about you?
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Love Verdicts (2)
Since we're talking about love and we're talking about decisions -- what do you do when you see that a relationship is more difficult than most people think relationships should be? Do you tell yourself - "I'm in love, and love conquers all"? Or do you say - "Enough is enough is enough"?
Sometimes, the different approaches may be ascribed to personality. Are you the kind of person who quits while you're ahead? Or never until you're far behind? Other times, reacting to a relationship is due to the relationship itself. I know, for example, that I am prone to toughing out the tough times in a relationship until I'm far far far behind....but I also know that I don't do that for "just anyone." He'd have to worth my trying that hard to begin with.
What happens when there are external factors making the relationship difficult? Family members...mental illness (or condition, anyway)...job responsibilities...children and/or exes.... At what point do you say, "this person is worth all the travail, all the garbage, all the toil, and therefore nothing will ever push me to leave"? At what point do you say, "I love THIS person, but not all the baggage he or she brings to the relationship, and therefore I must move on"?
What happens when you sacrifice yourself for the sake of your significant other? That is, when you abandon critical parts of yourself to accommodate the needs (or even only preferences) of him or her. On the one hand, that sounds like a travesty. It's so ingrained that we must be true to ourselves. But doesn't every relationship inherently demand self-sacrifice, and even self-effacement, on occasion? And if it's just a matter of degree, when does one put the needs of the other first to such dire effect that he or she has crossed the line into "travesty"?
Often, the most obvious decision with regard to love is whether to continue pursuing it. Except that for those in love, it's rarely a decision. For years, I have been hearing about how brain scans of a person falling in love light up in the same places that cocaine addicts' brains light up (that is, romantic love is fundamentally a "reward" like food and drink and drugs to an addict). But a more recent study (2010) indicates that the process of falling in love may take no more than one-fifth of a second (for the newspaper account, see here; for the scholarship, see here). No matter what you believe about free will, a fifth of a second does not leave much window for deliberative conclusions. And then, you're addicted. No hope at all of deciding that a given dynamic might be bad for you. Too late. You're hooked.
The very worst might be when you know - you know! - that you ought to be loving him (or her). You have so much in common. You connect beautifully. You "tick" compatibly. You communicate effectively together. And yet, for whatever reason, the "chemistry" isn't there. Oh, I take it back. Worse than that is when all of that is in place, but the chemistry is indeed there for you, but not for him (or her). Dashed hope - the worst! You have a glimmer of the best that could be (for you). That powerful, addictive profound love that lights up our brains like cocaine seems within reach. His (or her) verdict against that is particularly painful. Especially because you don't share it. But also, simply, because the good you see seems not to be.
In light of all of these decisions of love, however, I'm reminded by a friend's point: the same way you can't outrun ill-fortune, the good will find you too. Perhaps it's fatalistic or perhaps it's faith, but the notion of "meant-to-be" (more another time) is very helpful. For if it is meant to be, it will be. The good will find you. Eventually. We hope.
DISCLAIMER: Significant readers (like my mother) like to infer that anything I write here is a direct commentary on my life. Au contraire. Often, something I encounter will trigger a formulation or provoke my desire for further investigation. To that extent, my reality is indeed represented here. But if I had any interest in a personal expose blog, I would not be writing "Choices."
Sometimes, the different approaches may be ascribed to personality. Are you the kind of person who quits while you're ahead? Or never until you're far behind? Other times, reacting to a relationship is due to the relationship itself. I know, for example, that I am prone to toughing out the tough times in a relationship until I'm far far far behind....but I also know that I don't do that for "just anyone." He'd have to worth my trying that hard to begin with.
What happens when there are external factors making the relationship difficult? Family members...mental illness (or condition, anyway)...job responsibilities...children and/or exes.... At what point do you say, "this person is worth all the travail, all the garbage, all the toil, and therefore nothing will ever push me to leave"? At what point do you say, "I love THIS person, but not all the baggage he or she brings to the relationship, and therefore I must move on"?
What happens when you sacrifice yourself for the sake of your significant other? That is, when you abandon critical parts of yourself to accommodate the needs (or even only preferences) of him or her. On the one hand, that sounds like a travesty. It's so ingrained that we must be true to ourselves. But doesn't every relationship inherently demand self-sacrifice, and even self-effacement, on occasion? And if it's just a matter of degree, when does one put the needs of the other first to such dire effect that he or she has crossed the line into "travesty"?
Often, the most obvious decision with regard to love is whether to continue pursuing it. Except that for those in love, it's rarely a decision. For years, I have been hearing about how brain scans of a person falling in love light up in the same places that cocaine addicts' brains light up (that is, romantic love is fundamentally a "reward" like food and drink and drugs to an addict). But a more recent study (2010) indicates that the process of falling in love may take no more than one-fifth of a second (for the newspaper account, see here; for the scholarship, see here). No matter what you believe about free will, a fifth of a second does not leave much window for deliberative conclusions. And then, you're addicted. No hope at all of deciding that a given dynamic might be bad for you. Too late. You're hooked.
The very worst might be when you know - you know! - that you ought to be loving him (or her). You have so much in common. You connect beautifully. You "tick" compatibly. You communicate effectively together. And yet, for whatever reason, the "chemistry" isn't there. Oh, I take it back. Worse than that is when all of that is in place, but the chemistry is indeed there for you, but not for him (or her). Dashed hope - the worst! You have a glimmer of the best that could be (for you). That powerful, addictive profound love that lights up our brains like cocaine seems within reach. His (or her) verdict against that is particularly painful. Especially because you don't share it. But also, simply, because the good you see seems not to be.
In light of all of these decisions of love, however, I'm reminded by a friend's point: the same way you can't outrun ill-fortune, the good will find you too. Perhaps it's fatalistic or perhaps it's faith, but the notion of "meant-to-be" (more another time) is very helpful. For if it is meant to be, it will be. The good will find you. Eventually. We hope.
DISCLAIMER: Significant readers (like my mother) like to infer that anything I write here is a direct commentary on my life. Au contraire. Often, something I encounter will trigger a formulation or provoke my desire for further investigation. To that extent, my reality is indeed represented here. But if I had any interest in a personal expose blog, I would not be writing "Choices."
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