Does the way a person looks give any indication of his or her personality? Some people just look kind, or grouchy, or bitter...but does this mean anything?
It's an odd balance, between living each day to the fullest and setting yourself up for the future. Why don't I spend the day outside, exploring, drinking wine, swimming, etc.? Because I have projects that mean something to me. Living life to the fullest isn't just having as much fun as possible--I think sometimes it means fulfilling some grand project. Does everyone want a project, though? And what if your project is to have as much fun as possible?
Thursday, May 24, 2007
for sure
I wish I could write about other people, about the world, as readily as I can write about myself. Maybe if I tried...? Part of what keeps me from doing it, I think, is the fear that I don't know enough to speak intelligently about world events, about works of art, about society. Of course, you might say that not knowing enough doesn't stop other people from speaking about these things. I sometimes think part of being an academic is acting as if you know everything, even when you know you don't. I do wonder, though--not just in academia, but among pundits, in conversations and debates people have with one another--how often people just don't actually know what they're talking about. Yet they act like they do, so you're inclined to believe them, because you don't know enough yourself to challenge what they have to say.
Anyway, what all of this means for me is that I rarely participate in 'debates' among my friends, because I often feel that none of us really know enough to have a debate of any relevance. In these situations, if I do speak up, it's usually when I'm able to cut through the arguments and get to the core point of disagreement. I have this idea (which may or may not be right) that most debates, most controversies, stem from fundamentally different assumptions. You can argue as much as you want, but the arguments don't actually matter, because the real disagreement is rooted in a different way of seeing things that no amount of argument is going to change. I think of this with the argument about abortion, for instance, where I think the fundamental disagreement is about when the zygote/embryo/fetus becomes a human being. Because, obviously, once the thing is human, it shouldn't be aborted, since that's killing a defenseless human being, which is murder, which most people would maintain is wrong. The thing is, some people think life starts at conception, while some think life starts after the first trimester, while some think...you get the idea. Religious arguments against abortion (at any stage) are not irrational--they're just rooted in a view that human life begins at a certain point. Under this view, the argument makes total sense. So you can argue pro-life, pro-choice, all you want, but I think the key is the assumption about when human life begins, which is something we are likely to disagree about 'forever.'
I think a number of ethical/political/religious conflicts boil down to differing fundamental worldview assumptions, but this is often lost under a mass of propaganda and bluster. I think, therefore, that if you want to change someone's mind about a conflict, you have to somehow change their assumptions, which is more often a matter of rhetoric than rational argument. People tend to 'feel' a side in a conflict, rather than rationally embrace a side. So persuasion is key, especially when there are few things we can universally know 'for sure.'
Anyway, what all of this means for me is that I rarely participate in 'debates' among my friends, because I often feel that none of us really know enough to have a debate of any relevance. In these situations, if I do speak up, it's usually when I'm able to cut through the arguments and get to the core point of disagreement. I have this idea (which may or may not be right) that most debates, most controversies, stem from fundamentally different assumptions. You can argue as much as you want, but the arguments don't actually matter, because the real disagreement is rooted in a different way of seeing things that no amount of argument is going to change. I think of this with the argument about abortion, for instance, where I think the fundamental disagreement is about when the zygote/embryo/fetus becomes a human being. Because, obviously, once the thing is human, it shouldn't be aborted, since that's killing a defenseless human being, which is murder, which most people would maintain is wrong. The thing is, some people think life starts at conception, while some think life starts after the first trimester, while some think...you get the idea. Religious arguments against abortion (at any stage) are not irrational--they're just rooted in a view that human life begins at a certain point. Under this view, the argument makes total sense. So you can argue pro-life, pro-choice, all you want, but I think the key is the assumption about when human life begins, which is something we are likely to disagree about 'forever.'
I think a number of ethical/political/religious conflicts boil down to differing fundamental worldview assumptions, but this is often lost under a mass of propaganda and bluster. I think, therefore, that if you want to change someone's mind about a conflict, you have to somehow change their assumptions, which is more often a matter of rhetoric than rational argument. People tend to 'feel' a side in a conflict, rather than rationally embrace a side. So persuasion is key, especially when there are few things we can universally know 'for sure.'
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
wouldn't it be nice
Now, I don't think I'm ugly, but I often wish I was more attractive, so people would be more interested in me, and so I'd feel more confident about talking to strangers. (Or maybe it'd be more realistic to wish that I was more self-assured about myself as a person, regardless of how I looked.)
I have a fear of good-looking people, because I can never really imagine that they'd want to talk to me. This likely stems from teasing when I was younger--nerd, dork, some humiliating incidents that I haven't told many people about but affected me deeply--that sort of crippled my self-esteem. When it comes right down to it, I have never seen myself as that great of a person on my own, which is probably why I depend so much on loving, supportive friends, and why it's incredibly difficult for me to feel confident in friendships with people who are not (outwardly) very loving and/or supportive. I draw strength and confidence (and sometimes my personality) from others, because I am weak, lack confidence, and fundamentally don't like who I am. I have been like this for so long that it's hard for me to imagine that I could change. How do you work on liking yourself more? How do you work on confidence? How do you work on constantly comparing yourself (often unfavorably) to the people around you? How do you work on these things, when you've been like this for 15 years? How do you fight the urge to make yourself an island, to isolate yourself, to feel like you're always going to be alone?
These feelings aren't there all the time, but they tend to arise if I feel even the least bit lonely. Maybe the answer is just to keep myself busy, surround myself with people, so that I don't give the feelings a chance to emerge; but wouldn't it be nice if I could just love myself, value myself, and not constantly be questioning who I am and what I'm doing?
I have a fear of good-looking people, because I can never really imagine that they'd want to talk to me. This likely stems from teasing when I was younger--nerd, dork, some humiliating incidents that I haven't told many people about but affected me deeply--that sort of crippled my self-esteem. When it comes right down to it, I have never seen myself as that great of a person on my own, which is probably why I depend so much on loving, supportive friends, and why it's incredibly difficult for me to feel confident in friendships with people who are not (outwardly) very loving and/or supportive. I draw strength and confidence (and sometimes my personality) from others, because I am weak, lack confidence, and fundamentally don't like who I am. I have been like this for so long that it's hard for me to imagine that I could change. How do you work on liking yourself more? How do you work on confidence? How do you work on constantly comparing yourself (often unfavorably) to the people around you? How do you work on these things, when you've been like this for 15 years? How do you fight the urge to make yourself an island, to isolate yourself, to feel like you're always going to be alone?
These feelings aren't there all the time, but they tend to arise if I feel even the least bit lonely. Maybe the answer is just to keep myself busy, surround myself with people, so that I don't give the feelings a chance to emerge; but wouldn't it be nice if I could just love myself, value myself, and not constantly be questioning who I am and what I'm doing?
infusion
This is my 90th post. 100 is right around the corner. We'll have to celebrate.
I'm in a wistful mood right now. It's partially the music I'm listening to (Wilco), the setting (I'm sitting in Kopi, a downtown coffeeshop, by the big front windows, watching the people of C-U head out for the night), and my thoughts (I'm missing my friends, as I watch these people who are out in groups of four or five, conversing over a beer, seeming to enjoy one another's company). As I'm sure I've written before, I've found individual people here with whom I feel that sort of comfort, that ease, but I have not found a group like that. This makes me wistful, though, rather than sad, probably because I've accepted it, just as I've come to accept much of who I am.
As I laid in bed last night, waiting for sleep to drift over me, I was thinking about what I'd written, and thought that perhaps it sounded a little bitter. Maybe it was. What's important for me, though, as I move into the summer, as I move into the rest of my life, is the realization that I need to be loved. I have no doubt about that. I'm not an independent person, in many ways. I thrive when I have supportive, loving friends around me. The few people I know here who I can call real friends ("tier one" friends, the deepest, closest, likely to be lifelong friends) have come to mean so much to me and have been (I think sometimes) the only positive aspect of being here. This environment just hasn't been good for me, but at least I've met a few wonderful people.
That's one realization: I need a loving, supportive community of friends to thrive. The other is that I already know plenty of loving, supportive people; but the majority of them are not here. They are in Tampa, Gainesville, Ft. Lauderdale, Tucson, New York, California, DC, Chicago, Madison, Texas, Arkansas, Australia...I have more than enough tier one friends in my life. Maybe too many--I can't keep up with everyone as well as I'd like. But, rather than get overwhelmed and give up, I need to try to keep up with everyone. An hour on the phone with friends every day or two will probably make the other hours of my day that much better. A letter sent, an email written--these kinds of things keep connections alive, help me remember that I've got the loving, supportive community of friends I want--I've had it all along--it's just spread out. This is not ideal. Not for me. I wish I had it here. But. I don't. I haven't put myself in situations to meet the kind of people that could form that community for me. But I suppose the one advantage is that it leaves me more time to maintain my connections with the friends that are spread out everywhere.
For the first time in many years, I'm questioning whether to become a professor when I leave here. I think if I wasn't so far into graduate school, I'd probably leave. As a whole, it's unsatisfying, though I've found pockets of satisfaction to keep me going. I'll finish, though...but then what? I want to teach, but I don't want to be a scholar in the standard sense. I want to work with people--I don't want most of my work to be solitary. I want to effect change--I want to contribute to something--I want to be able to stand back, look at my work, and see that I've produced (or helped to produce) something lasting. Perhaps just focusing on teaching would be best for me--try to get a job at a liberal arts college, maybe. Perhaps I should aim to found a charter school. Perhaps I should find a NGO that deals with interreligious dialogue, religious education, or peacemaking--perhaps I should start my own, try to get my friends involved. Perhaps I can do all of that. But I know that we have limited time. I have limited time. And the best I can do is try to live my life in fulfilling a way as possible, which (for me) means doing what I can to help others live their lives in fulfilling a way as possible. So I just need to find a way to feel that I am actively contributing to that goal, in any way, small or large. The specifics can sort of work themselves out, I think--it'll depend partially on opportunities that arise, people I meet. But I want a general destination.
I think it comes down to this:
I want a life that is infused with what I find lovely, that is infused with what I find beautiful.
Beautiful friendships.
Beautiful relationships.
Beautiful music, beautiful art, beautiful movies.
Beautiful ideas.
Beautiful emotions--hope, joy, bliss, love.
I've got this already, to a great extent. I have been able to surround myself with beautiful people, things, ideas. I am learning to cast away the not-so-beautiful. But my life--what I am doing with myself--has not yet fallen in line. I do not feel like I am DOING beautiful things, everyone. My actions are not yet beautiful. Grad school has not been beautiful for me...but maybe it will lead me to something beautiful, and I can finally lead a life that harmonizes with the beauty and love I see around me.
I'm in a wistful mood right now. It's partially the music I'm listening to (Wilco), the setting (I'm sitting in Kopi, a downtown coffeeshop, by the big front windows, watching the people of C-U head out for the night), and my thoughts (I'm missing my friends, as I watch these people who are out in groups of four or five, conversing over a beer, seeming to enjoy one another's company). As I'm sure I've written before, I've found individual people here with whom I feel that sort of comfort, that ease, but I have not found a group like that. This makes me wistful, though, rather than sad, probably because I've accepted it, just as I've come to accept much of who I am.
As I laid in bed last night, waiting for sleep to drift over me, I was thinking about what I'd written, and thought that perhaps it sounded a little bitter. Maybe it was. What's important for me, though, as I move into the summer, as I move into the rest of my life, is the realization that I need to be loved. I have no doubt about that. I'm not an independent person, in many ways. I thrive when I have supportive, loving friends around me. The few people I know here who I can call real friends ("tier one" friends, the deepest, closest, likely to be lifelong friends) have come to mean so much to me and have been (I think sometimes) the only positive aspect of being here. This environment just hasn't been good for me, but at least I've met a few wonderful people.
That's one realization: I need a loving, supportive community of friends to thrive. The other is that I already know plenty of loving, supportive people; but the majority of them are not here. They are in Tampa, Gainesville, Ft. Lauderdale, Tucson, New York, California, DC, Chicago, Madison, Texas, Arkansas, Australia...I have more than enough tier one friends in my life. Maybe too many--I can't keep up with everyone as well as I'd like. But, rather than get overwhelmed and give up, I need to try to keep up with everyone. An hour on the phone with friends every day or two will probably make the other hours of my day that much better. A letter sent, an email written--these kinds of things keep connections alive, help me remember that I've got the loving, supportive community of friends I want--I've had it all along--it's just spread out. This is not ideal. Not for me. I wish I had it here. But. I don't. I haven't put myself in situations to meet the kind of people that could form that community for me. But I suppose the one advantage is that it leaves me more time to maintain my connections with the friends that are spread out everywhere.
For the first time in many years, I'm questioning whether to become a professor when I leave here. I think if I wasn't so far into graduate school, I'd probably leave. As a whole, it's unsatisfying, though I've found pockets of satisfaction to keep me going. I'll finish, though...but then what? I want to teach, but I don't want to be a scholar in the standard sense. I want to work with people--I don't want most of my work to be solitary. I want to effect change--I want to contribute to something--I want to be able to stand back, look at my work, and see that I've produced (or helped to produce) something lasting. Perhaps just focusing on teaching would be best for me--try to get a job at a liberal arts college, maybe. Perhaps I should aim to found a charter school. Perhaps I should find a NGO that deals with interreligious dialogue, religious education, or peacemaking--perhaps I should start my own, try to get my friends involved. Perhaps I can do all of that. But I know that we have limited time. I have limited time. And the best I can do is try to live my life in fulfilling a way as possible, which (for me) means doing what I can to help others live their lives in fulfilling a way as possible. So I just need to find a way to feel that I am actively contributing to that goal, in any way, small or large. The specifics can sort of work themselves out, I think--it'll depend partially on opportunities that arise, people I meet. But I want a general destination.
I think it comes down to this:
I want a life that is infused with what I find lovely, that is infused with what I find beautiful.
Beautiful friendships.
Beautiful relationships.
Beautiful music, beautiful art, beautiful movies.
Beautiful ideas.
Beautiful emotions--hope, joy, bliss, love.
I've got this already, to a great extent. I have been able to surround myself with beautiful people, things, ideas. I am learning to cast away the not-so-beautiful. But my life--what I am doing with myself--has not yet fallen in line. I do not feel like I am DOING beautiful things, everyone. My actions are not yet beautiful. Grad school has not been beautiful for me...but maybe it will lead me to something beautiful, and I can finally lead a life that harmonizes with the beauty and love I see around me.
respite
I am exhausted. The past 24 hours or so were wonderful, but active; unproductive, but relaxing. I kept on having to remind myself that today was a Tuesday. My roommate said it well, I thought: "I feel like I've been through a long weekend." I will get back on track tomorrow, but perhaps I needed these past 24 hours (and, in fact, the 72 before them) to help me deal with some recent events.
I won't get into the whole story of why I didn't go to DC here, but the end of the story is that I changed my plane ticket so that I could go home for a week in early June (June 2-8 now, actually, not 2-9 like I said before), which is something I'd been hoping to do anyway. I didn't even lose any money on the flight, because Southwest doesn't make you pay a change fee--just the difference in price.
I spent much of the day today roaming around campus and U with my roommate. We had destinations, but weren't in a hurry, so we enjoyed the day, stopping to play catch, stopping to talk, sometimes just stopping to enjoy the view. This was all a follow-up to a house party I went to last night, which is sort of like going to the bars, but you're drinking in a house and a yard rather than in a bar.
Over these past five days or so, as I've been processing the recent events I mentioned above, I have realized that I have a tendency, in certain situations, to see people for who I want them to be, and not necessarily for who they are. I had thought that my intuitions about people were pretty reliable--in other words, that the initial intuitions I have about someone usually match up with who they turn out to be, after I've known them for a while--but this isn't true. My intuition is sometimes clouded by what I want to see and it's sometimes clouded because people don't always act genuinely. Of course, sometimes my intuition is correct, but the point, I think, is that you don't fully know someone until you've spent quite a bit of time with him/her; until you've seen that person in different situations, dealing with a variety of issues; until you get to know that person's story.
I have also taken a firmer stand on the fact that I don't need people in my life who make me feel small, judged, patronized, stupid, and so forth, for being who I am. The fact is that I have a number of dear friends, from the various stages of my life, who have shown me what real friendship is. I hope that, occasionally, I have been able to show it back to them. These are people who clearly love me--even if they never say it, their actions reveal it. I don't think I can expend energy on people who make me feel unloved when I have plenty of people who make me feel loved. This is not to say, of course, that I'm looking for adoration or that I only consider people my friends who think that everything I do is beyond criticism--on the contrary, a friend is a great critic, because s/he sometimes sees things about you that you can't see about yourself. However, the friend can critique because the critique is always rooted in love--the friend wants the best for you, because the friend loves you.
In the past weeks, months, I have disappointed some people, and some people have disappointed me. I have become acutely aware of how relationships can change, and I have learned to be more honest with myself, both about other people and about my own values. Because of this honesty, my life has gained a direction, a focus, that it didn't have before. I'm still not entirely sure how the focus will be realized, in terms of a job once I get done with my PhD, but I have my passions in sight, I have a dissertation topic in mind, and I have a much stronger sense of who I am now than I did in January.
The summer stretches ahead.
I won't get into the whole story of why I didn't go to DC here, but the end of the story is that I changed my plane ticket so that I could go home for a week in early June (June 2-8 now, actually, not 2-9 like I said before), which is something I'd been hoping to do anyway. I didn't even lose any money on the flight, because Southwest doesn't make you pay a change fee--just the difference in price.
I spent much of the day today roaming around campus and U with my roommate. We had destinations, but weren't in a hurry, so we enjoyed the day, stopping to play catch, stopping to talk, sometimes just stopping to enjoy the view. This was all a follow-up to a house party I went to last night, which is sort of like going to the bars, but you're drinking in a house and a yard rather than in a bar.
Over these past five days or so, as I've been processing the recent events I mentioned above, I have realized that I have a tendency, in certain situations, to see people for who I want them to be, and not necessarily for who they are. I had thought that my intuitions about people were pretty reliable--in other words, that the initial intuitions I have about someone usually match up with who they turn out to be, after I've known them for a while--but this isn't true. My intuition is sometimes clouded by what I want to see and it's sometimes clouded because people don't always act genuinely. Of course, sometimes my intuition is correct, but the point, I think, is that you don't fully know someone until you've spent quite a bit of time with him/her; until you've seen that person in different situations, dealing with a variety of issues; until you get to know that person's story.
I have also taken a firmer stand on the fact that I don't need people in my life who make me feel small, judged, patronized, stupid, and so forth, for being who I am. The fact is that I have a number of dear friends, from the various stages of my life, who have shown me what real friendship is. I hope that, occasionally, I have been able to show it back to them. These are people who clearly love me--even if they never say it, their actions reveal it. I don't think I can expend energy on people who make me feel unloved when I have plenty of people who make me feel loved. This is not to say, of course, that I'm looking for adoration or that I only consider people my friends who think that everything I do is beyond criticism--on the contrary, a friend is a great critic, because s/he sometimes sees things about you that you can't see about yourself. However, the friend can critique because the critique is always rooted in love--the friend wants the best for you, because the friend loves you.
In the past weeks, months, I have disappointed some people, and some people have disappointed me. I have become acutely aware of how relationships can change, and I have learned to be more honest with myself, both about other people and about my own values. Because of this honesty, my life has gained a direction, a focus, that it didn't have before. I'm still not entirely sure how the focus will be realized, in terms of a job once I get done with my PhD, but I have my passions in sight, I have a dissertation topic in mind, and I have a much stronger sense of who I am now than I did in January.
The summer stretches ahead.
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