Tag: herd mentality

  • A Pause

    A pause from futility. Does it make the pause fruitful or futile? Futility is the state of a jaded mind. It’s the mind that looks at a happy moment, recognises its ephemeral nature and waits patiently for it to pass, while taking comfort from being right about its passing. Does it make that mind jaded, or realistic?

    The irony of life is that it passes us by while contemplating it, yet we miss important moments if we don’t. Striking the balance is elusive, as those that stop to contemplate are left behind by the incessant pace of the crowd. The crowd, distracted by their togetherness, fail to notice the passing scenery. While sitting and reflecting, the introspective one looks at the crowd and yearns for such inclusion, but in the moments that the crowd pauses to take a breath, a solitary soul chasing the inclusion looks beyond the crowd and wishes for the apparent peace on the face of the introspective one.

    There are those that chase without thought or contemplation. Driven by a need to feel progress while simultaneously anxious about being left behind. They don’t pause, they don’t breathe, they just chase. They draw strength from the crowd and in turn they feed the momentum that carries them along. Because they don’t pause, or breathe, they never realise that it is them that create that which they chase.

    Human connections develop while we’re chasing similar things. Those that go out in search of it rarely find it. The introspective ones are often left wandering, while the crowd incestuously lunges on.

    Is sanity defined by acceptance, or the recognition of rejection? Does assimilation require a suspension of sanity, or does it breed insanity? Leading a solitary life, introspective by design, and restless by nature, the introspective one finds themselves in choppy waters when the crowd grows weary of the chase, and suddenly chases the pause. What was once cause for isolation becomes cause for inclusion. The crowd seeks the pause, while those that breathed deeply until now surrender their breath in favour of the elusive inclusion that suddenly teases their senses.

    The sway from both sides slowly find harmony, but when left unbridled, they eventually pass each other, outstretched nails clawing at the other, hoping to hold on to that which they pursued, but finding their misguided momentum too much to restrain, slowly finding themselves adrift, again. The crowd floating in a sea of debris, sharing tales with each other about how much more beautiful it was when they were young, spawn a generation of repulsion at their indulgence.

    The new ones set out searching for a pause, but find themselves surrounded by the clutter of what went before. Inherited debris of an indulgence that was not theirs to enjoy, they grow impatient, searching for their allotment of indulgence, but finding none. Rebellion is the only option, but even rebellion is aimed at achieving something. That something can only take form after growing aware of what is needed, and what is needed is only visible to those who contemplate. Suddenly the introspective are in vogue, and the crowd is dispersed, only to form a different motion.

    This time the motion sways more purposefully, spawned by a pause, not by a lunge, it takes on a less indulgent hue, and instead aims to offer before it consumes. Each has its own time. The consumerism of some breed purpose for others. Without the crowd, a moment of pause will hold less meaning. Without that moment of pause, the crowd with have no purpose.

    Sometimes in our struggles for balance, perhaps that balance becomes elusive because we’re struggling. Do we struggle because we’re distracted, or because we’re desperate to achieve an end whose nature conflicts with our circumstances? Should we change our circumstances before we set out to conquer, or are circumstances changed because of what we conquer?

    There is no composed end to this thought process. So let this be a cryptic start to end a cryptic past, or not.

  • It’s Probably Possible

    I’ve often been accused of expecting too much from people, only to realise that they in fact expect too little from themselves. I’ve seen this play out on numerous occasions where I’ve demanded a level of delivery from colleagues or family members that was slated as unrealistic, only to see them achieve their targets anyway. To me, it proved that my observations of their self-imposed limitations were true. If I was indeed expecting too much, they would never have met the supposedly unrealistic expectations, but because they expected too little from themselves, they assumed that they were incapable of doing so to begin with and therefore started out on the back foot.

    There is a fundamental difference between those with a can-do attitude and those with a I-see-a-problem-in-everything attitude. The one looks at the possibilities while the other focuses on the probabilities. As much as it sounds like a play on words, yet another accusation leveled against me on several occasions, there is a simple truth in it. When you consider probabilities, it immediately demands a focus on the expected hurdles, constraints, and other problems that may be experienced in trying to achieve something. Couple this with the predisposition that most have regarding their low expectations from themselves, and inevitably you end up with an individual that is going to be risk averse and safe, never pushing the boundaries, and rarely leading any efforts at all. In other words, you end up with a follower, often a blind one as well.

    Such followers are easily capable of deflecting attention away from their negative attitude by offering ideas and suggestions indicating support and constructive input about how those hurdles and obstacles can be navigated. Worse than this, they probably don’t even realise what limitations they’re placing on themselves by focusing on the probability factors only, which makes it even more sad. But the reality is, they’ll help you fight the good fight, but they’ll never take you into new territory. Within the workplace, they will be the optimisers and renovators but never the innovators.

    If you start out looking at what is the ideal, and considering what is possible, ignoring the hurdles and the obstacles, chances are good that you’ll find ways to sell that vision to others in a way that will give them reason to stop being so fixated on the distractions and instead, to use their skills at navigating around obstacles to help you achieve the common vision. Chances are, you’ll find yourself leading others through situations that would seem daunting to most. By default, a focus on possibilities emphasises a grounding in principles, which ultimately sets the foundation for leadership. Like someone said recently, leaders take you to places that you weren’t going to before.

    I’ve always subscribed to the simple philosophy of starting out with the ideal in mind. Once that ideal vision has been created, then only tamper it with reality and practicality, but don’t sell it short just because others don’t see what you see. At times when the overwhelming majority are ready to throw in the towel because the probability of success is low, that’s when it’s important to revisit the vision you first embraced and to re-energise yourself around what is possible so that you can look beyond the probabilities of failure that you’re facing at that point.