Category: Leadership

  • When Understanding Goes Too Far

    I sometimes watch the wayward behaviour of some while observing the contempt of others that are watching it play out, and wonder who between the two are less aware of their actions or motivations to behave that way. The ones among us that are of a softer nature will look on and seek to understand why someone may be acting out, afraid that judging them for acting out may be too harsh. The world is harsh enough as it is, and only getting harsher each day, so I guess there is merit in such an approach.

    At times, when we’ve had enough to deal with in our own lives, we look on with intolerance, demanding that the wayward behaviour be checked, because if no one is willing to accept such behaviour from us, why should we accept it from others? Right? But demanding change without offering a solution helps no one. It only exacerbates the already toxic state of the relationship or the environment around us. It provokes the wayward ones to escalate their protest against whatever it is that they refuse to accept, and it frustrates those that seek to understand.

    Moderation in all things is always called for. Demand without understanding, and you lose credibility when the solution becomes obvious later on. Understand without demanding, and you lose credibility when the demands foster the change that was needed to break the cycle. Do either without the other, and you resign yourself to an end of insignificance. Unfortunately, doing both requires purposeful conviction. Not blind conviction. Not the kind of conviction that is driven by a self-belief of what we stand for but for which we are rarely capable of defending when challenged. That belief that we insist on being respected despite not knowing why, but only knowing that through receiving such respect for our beliefs, we feel significant and less threatened.

    Purposeful conviction. You’d think it was easy given that it’s a simple matter of cause and effect, but of a different kind. You recognise the cause that you wish to champion, and you put your efforts into effecting the change needed to support that cause. Problem is, most don’t recognise the cause, they only recognise the affiliation. The need to be associated with something meaningful or relevant, rather than establishing meaning and relevance through their own actions and contributions.

    It’s all well and good to understand. But the failing of many is that we stop at understanding. We spend much time and energy in achieving that state, but then avoid taking steps to remedy the causes that we now understand leads to that unacceptable behaviour. Being perceived as understanding in nature makes us popular with those that don’t want to change, those that prefer acting out, being rebellious, and refusing to accept accountability for their state because they find it much more convenient and less taxing to blame others, or circumstances.

    The ones that act out, and are left to act out, become masters at presenting their tantrums as legitimate gripes or demands. They often end up being the bullies, the type A personalities, and the abusers. They become the oppressors that they grew up whining about. And those that sought only to understand but chose not to curtail such behaviour, or offer healthier forms of expression, they feed that cycle. They enable such outcomes, and they become the liberals. The ones that stand for nothing, understand everything, and fall for every whimper regardless of how incredulous the whimper is.

    Understanding is only ever the first step, and never the last. There is no point in seeking to understand if you intend to do nothing more than reflect on that knowledge that you have gained. Understanding must inform our decisions to act. Not acting is a decision in itself, but it’s usually the easy way out. It’s often under the pretense that we don’t want to get involved because we have enough problems of our own, or it’s none of our business. And that’s how the cycles of violence, intolerance, and abuse in society spiral out of control. It’s because those that understand do nothing, while those that do not understand act without guidance.

    Prompting someone towards having the courage to take control of their lives, regardless of what came before, is more selfless than it is selfish. Too often we’re distracted by the assumption that by demanding more, we’re behaving selfishly because we don’t understand how difficult it is for that person to be who they are if only we knew what they’ve been through. That is a horrid distortion of the truth. The truth is closer to the fact that leaving them to succumb to their past is in fact selfish, because prompting them to rise above it is often met with resistance and contempt, both of which erode your sense of significance or likeability in that relationship. So when you withhold advice or decide not to take action because you don’t want to be ‘the bad one’, you’re behaving selfishly. Standing up and being counted in a time when guidance and good advice is needed, not necessarily wanted, takes more courage and is much more selfless than shutting up and minding your own business.

    We have far too many that shut up and mind their own business, except when they enjoy the anonymity of social media and similar platforms, because once again, there is limited (if any) risk of them becoming unpopular in the relationships that they covet. I suspect that the point of this post has been made somewhere between all the venting, but at the risk of being redundant. It’s simply this. Seeking to understand is a noble first step. But it’s only a first step. Don’t stop there. Take the knowledge that you gained through that process and apply it with conviction in a meaningful way. Don’t be a passive observer of life, or the lives of others. Have the courage to change it for the better.

  • History Lessons

    A long walk through Berlin can be quite revealing. Without looking for the prompts, political themes start forming familiar patterns in your mind. My trip started with a security alert I had received regarding attacks by extremist youth groups on people of colour in Germany. Oddly enough, that security alert rated Berlin and Johannesburg on the crime level, while Abu Dhabi was a point lower. I read the alert with annoyance as I saw the desperate attempt to single out Abu Dhabi. Berlin had the extremist groups, and Johannesburg had the high rate of violent crime to justify their ratings. Abu Dhabi however, had just a single incident of an American tourist being stabbed in 2014 as the basis for their alert. What I found ridiculous about this was the fact that they needed to identify a single isolated incident from 2 years ago for an Arab country, but had to mention trends of current crimes for the other two cities. It was this same bias and paranoia that started my journey on the wrong foot.

    Being Muslim, I’m painfully aware of the stereotyping being done by the American government and their European allies which leaves me very much weighing in on the unfriendly side of the spectrum. Such irresponsible and opportunistic politicking has unfortunately become the hallmark of statesmen throughout the world, with very few exceptions.

    With that playing in my mind, I started out my week in the capital city with a sense of restraint and trepidation. My usual routine would be to arrive, check in, and explore the surrounding area on foot looking to enjoy my first local meal. I didn’t do that this time. Instead, I ordered my first meal in the hotel at a ridiculous price, and stayed in until the next morning despite having arrived in the early afternoon. I stuck with the group from the conference I was attending for the better part of the week and felt no inclination to explore this immense city.

    As the week dragged on, I looked for opportunity to believe that I was going to be treated as a stereotype but each time I was disappointed. I was treated as warmly or as dismissively as everyone else. The defining factor was the attitude of the locals that we encountered and not how I looked.

    Eventually I shrugged off the paranoia, acknowledged that if I was to be the isolated incident there was nothing I could do to avoid it, and set out to explore the city on my own. Rather than use public transport or private taxis, I chose to walk. I needed to walk through the areas that the locals frequent if I hoped to get a sense of the real city instead of the tourist spots. I generally avoid the tourist spots except to see what is its appeal, before leaving to experience something more real.

    Tourist spots are insincere. They’re deliberate shows of how the city wishes to be perceived, but rarely reflect what the city is truly about. It reminds me of a time when I visited Nice, France on a business trip. We were staying on the beachfront in a rustic but upmarket hotel, and everything was pristine. Buildings were well maintained, sidewalks were hosed down every night to get rid of the affluence of the pets of the affluent from the previous day, and it all seemed so idyllic. One morning I decided to take a different route to the conference centre and instead walked through the residential area just one or two blocks away from the beachfront. The contrast was amazing.

    Pristinely maintained buildings gave way to unkempt apartment blocks with plaster peeling from the walls, and a healthy dose of graffiti to express the heartbeat of its residents. That felt more sincere than the polished facade of the beachfront. And so it was with Berlin. After having walked many miles through the city to see the usual attractions like the parliament buildings, Brandenberg Gate, and so on, I finally found myself walking through the back streets finding quaint little corner shops that weren’t unlike the ones we have back home, privately owned and owner run. Finally, I felt like I was closer to experiencing Berlin as a local.

    Seeing people making their way home with shopping bags, and getting the whiff of the city’s bowels that made me gag every so often, I knew that Berlin was not as polished as its masters would like us to believe. But in that I found a distinct parallel between Berlin and Johannesburg, or even Cape Town. There is the side that gets all the attention to lay credence to our claim of being a world class African city, and there’s the real Johannesburg with its downtown slums that once used to enjoy the prestige of being the night life of the high life, and its neglected townships that dot the periphery. Sandton with its richest real estate in Africa is really on par with what the upmarket spaces of Berlin have to offer, but there is a grittiness to the in-your-face attitude that South Africans have that prevents us from selling it for more than it is.

    All of this aside, the underlying human history (for lack of a better phrase) appear like sisters with Berlin, and pretty much every other foreign city that I’ve visited. Social classes exist, politics drive preferences, and business in the tourist spots are disproportionately valued compared to the townships or suburbs where real life happens. Every few generations witness the emergence of elitist leaders that have an emboldened conviction in driving a supremacist agenda, like Hitler in Germany, and apartheid in South Africa. Following on from the survival of those eras of stupidity we see the emergence of the opportunists that consistently lay the blame for their incompetence at the feet of their bigoted predecessors.

    Occasionally I get a sense of a collective pride in what the locals feel about their city or their country. It’s similar to the annoying pride that Cape Townians have about Cape Town. But even with its recognition as the most beautiful city in the world, the elitism and the social class systems based largely on economics rather than race, also presents the lipstick on the proverbial pig. Berlin is no different, and so is every other city I’ve visited internationally. Some struggle more than others to keep us focused on the lipstick instead of the pig, like Delhi for example, but the unwillingness of the locals to believe that their idealism is a far cry from the reality that they avoid is consistent throughout.

    We all have a need to be associated with something we’re proud of. When we’re disgruntled or excluded, we find it easy to focus on the pig while ignoring the lipstick, and vice versa. Everywhere I go, I see the same themes. Egotists pretending they’re better than others because they’ve accumulated more trinkets than the next. Meanwhile, the only difference is really the amount of generations that passed down the wealth that either made it old or new money for the current generation to control, or squander. South Africa is very much caught in the throes of the new money. And as is the case with new money, there is an inclination to flash it at the old guard more than there is to appreciate it and put it to good use for the future generations to come.

    As old as Germany is, it was a somber reminder that awaited me at the Topography of Terrors Museum that confirmed that human degradation transcends wealth and race. All it needs is a collective sense of superiority coupled with a collective sense of fear, add some autocratic power, and you have the makings of another disaster. South Africa is on the brink of the same insanity, and it’s only a matter of time before we see leaders either rising up to stem the tide towards the abyss, or we witness the first inevitable fall from grace of a gluttonous government that is so self-absorbed in their struggle rhetoric that the squander of the promise of a decent life for all is a small price to pay for their 15 minutes of new money fame that they can wag in front of their colonial masters, as if that is a token of success.

    History, if nothing else, has proven that success is far from the accumulation of wealth or power. Both have come and gone only to be replaced by a new wave of self-enrichment. There will never be a shortage of such beings. The ego of the nation will forever echo in its leaders. So it was with Germany when Hitler architected his popular revolt to drive forward a warped agenda, and so it seems it will be with South Africa if we don’t dig our heels in and resist the tide that is slowly steering us towards the annihilation of everything beautiful that South Africans subscribed to and aspired to achieve when apartheid fell. Unfortunately the elders that lived through that struggle failed dismally to establish an appreciation in the generations that followed of the values and the higher goals that drove their actions, and instead have created a generation of black colonialists that now threaten to do exactly what they despised about their colonial masters. But it seems it’s the African story, and South Africa will not be denied.

  • This is why you can’t judge me

    Ok, that title is deliberately dramatic because this is generally a dramatic topic. After sneering at the fandom around the Myers Briggs personality tests I finally decided to take it myself, if for no reason other than the fact that I was curious to know how I would be defined. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that out of three of the four dimensions, they could not define me. I’ve sat amused for a long time watching people trying to determine their personality types based on this test, but was not so amused when they started judging others based on the same info. So I had a quiet chuckle at the thought of their facial expressions when they discovered that they still had no credible basis against which to judge me.

    Out of the sixteen possible personality types, I ended up with a result that says that I could be either of eight of them. Scrolling through the eight options I could easily relate to each of them, which I guess adds to the credibility of the test, but denies answers to those that would wish to have me defined in a way that makes interactions more predictable. However, self-indulgence aside, the most important realisation for me was the fact that in the one dimension where I was defined, I realised that by implication it is the one dimension in which I do not have sufficient balance.

    The report indicated that my scores were ‘borderline’ in the three dimensions of extravert versus introvert, feeler versus thinker, and judger versus perceiver. I interpret these outcomes as suggesting that I am adaptable or balanced relative to the norm. The dimension where I’m not balanced is where they identify my strengths or preferences as being intuitive rather than sensing. This is true. I’m often focused on the patterns of behaviour, or the sequence of events that hint at possible future outcomes, and so end up being rather insensitive to the emotional investments that others have made. When patterns are the focus, the immediate emotional impact is easy to ignore. There is relevance in understanding emotional responses, but most often I resign it to a waste of time that doesn’t change the outcome of what we’re faced with. I guess that’s the proof that I lack balance in this dimension.

    I wonder if others that have taken the test view their results in the same way? I wonder how many realise that it is merely an indication of preferences of behavior in their current state, and does not necessarily define who they are, or who they will be? Do they realise the difference between preference of behaviour versus subconscious predisposition and the important state of mindfulness that determines our awareness of the two? Too few appear to use it as a tool for reflection and growth, while most use it to determine their fit in relationships or groups; or worse they use it to measure the worth of others.

    The problem with people that don’t fit the molds of society is that they don’t easily fit anywhere in society either. It also means that they are often misunderstood in intent, and would therefore be assumed to be something other than what they are or intend to be. (Cue violins and harps.) No, that’s not my attempt at being sensitive, it’s more an observation of a reality that many like me face, while most feel justified in their judgemental attitude towards people like me. In other words, anyone that doesn’t fit their preferred models are automatically shunned or avoided. Unfortunately, because the number of people that break the mold are the minority, the pervasive ignorance of the majority results in the devaluation of the contribution of those that are best positioned to contribute something unique. It’s that uniqueness of contribution that drives the world forward, while the collusion of the majority serve as nothing more than a preservation of the status quo, or often even results in a degradation of the current state that we find ourselves in.

    For its entertainment value, here’s the summary of my test results:

    • May be an Extravert or an Introvert
    • Intuitive, not Sensing
    • May be a  Feeler or a Thinker
    • May be a Judger or a Perceiver

    Due to the number of inconclusive responses above, I was listed to have 8 possible personality types. These include:

    • ENFJ – The Teacher
    • ENFP – The Champion
    • ENTJ – The Commander
    • ENTP – The Visionary
    • INFJ – The Counselor
    • INFP – The Healer
    • INTJ – The Mastermind
    • INTP – The Architect

    Details of each of the above can be found on the Truist website that I linked to at the beginning of this article. I’m curious to know if any of you may have an opinion on whether or not any of the above is easily recognisable through my writing? Or perhaps even share your thoughts on your experiences with this personality test, and how it may have shaped your perspectives, or interactions with others?

  • Reinvention

    Reinvention is probably the most daunting aspect of life. It’s that moment when I find myself in a space that I’ve outgrown without having a new space that I’ve grown into. It’s a scene I’m familiar with. Along with most cycles, and there have been many, comes the reality of having to discard expensive relationships and adopting new ones. The more cycles I go through, the more exhausting the reinvention process becomes. The exhaustion, which I believe is quite closely related to my tolerance levels, suggests that perhaps I have not fully discarded some of the remnants of those relationships that have proven to be toxic.

    In discarding something, if traces remain, it must imply that it has not been fully discarded. I think the same is true for relationships. If I fully discard it, there won’t be any unexpected moments of yearning, or wistfulness. The ones I fully discard will leave my mind until something external reminds me of them. Even then, that reminder serves as nothing more than a recollection of events without any feelings of regret or subdued anticipation. They hold no link to the present life that I live. However, I’ve found that the ones that I didn’t fully discard are the ones I recall in moments of present betrayal. When I’m feeling weak or being deliberately self-loathing, I use those remnants to draw parallels between the betrayals in order to convince myself that it must be something about me that caused them to treat me that way. Those moments of self-loathing fades quickly to reveal that it’s not a sincere reflection. Instead, I’ve found that I do that in the hope of restraining myself from embracing such relationships again because the more we convince ourselves we’re not worthy, the less likely we’ll be to embrace new realities.

    My passion to embrace life dictates that such restraint only lasts for as long as the pain of the betrayal lingers. It’s not long before life starts tugging at my heartstrings, nudging me back to reality while I hesitantly push ahead, occasionally looking over my shoulder as if to reassure myself that the decision I needed to make was made with good reason, and with good intent. Sometimes, just sometimes looking back hoping to discover that I was wrong to give up on those relationships just yet, but rarely finding such reason to back track.

    I’ve learnt that holding on to relationships, most often not romantic ones, in the hope of still realising the potential and the beauty that I know is possible from that relationship taxes me more intensely than any cost it bears on them, People expect too little from themselves, while I always see more. Fighting for someone to rise above their decaying state often leaves me with the stench of such decay while they assimilate and thrive in surroundings that echo their weaknesses, which they interpret as strength, while they erode on the inside knowing that they’re hiding from the greatness they desire for themselves.

    Reinvention is based on the innate need to thrive in the face of adversity. It’s a courageous statement made by those that will not be put down, nor kept down. Those that choose to reinvent themselves are the ones that don’t allow life to define them. They define life. It takes an obstinacy of spirit, and a disregard for the contempt of the meek, when we abandon the failures they wish to savour, because it is all that offers them significance, while the rest of us choose to be significant for more than just feigned attempts at living. Each time we rise to face a new challenge we know that there are thousands waiting patiently to see the outcome before they commit. They are the opportunists that associate with power and success and delude themselves into believing that they yield it.

    Realising the futility of their superficial minds makes it easy to disregard their taunts when we fail, because even in failure we have tasted more success than those that live safely and insincerely.

    P.S. There is an arrogance that has crept into my writing over the years. Sometimes I feel a need to retract and clarify, in the hope that I won’t be seen in ways that I despise in others. However, I believe that in a world where individuality has resulted in an isolation of spirit, it’s more important to be bold and face potential humiliation, than to be safe and amicable and leave no imprint on this world in the very short time we have here. Besides, humiliation is only so if I care about the opinions of the spineless. I don’t.

  • The Projection of Rage

    There is very little else that enrages me more than the sight of parents that project their insecurities on their children. Parents that feel insecure about where they’re at or how they’re perceived by society and then over compensate by supposedly making sure that their children are not going to be perceived in the same way. The coward’s way of life is to live vicariously through others. That’s safe, risk averse, and effectively protects you from being perceived as a failure. That’s not life. That’s fear.

    But it’s not only parents that project such fears on their children and then raise sheltered or dysfunctional charges. It’s a practice that is almost pervasive these days from governments to organisations to almost every social structure we see. It feels like we’re living in a world where everyone has to defend their claim to significance, and those that feel like they don’t have one, associate themselves with causes that justify their rage at feeling insignificant. Countries that have military might will exact respect through force, or impose their beliefs through occupation, while organisations do the same through developing lethargic hierarchical structures that disempower while holding accountable those without authority.

    Behind all of this aggression lies flawed human beings that lack conviction or sincerity, and therefore leverage the tools and resources at their disposal to make a point that would otherwise go unheard. The climb to the top therefore becomes one of self-enrichment rather than servitude. It is therefore no wonder that those that occupy public office, or positions of ultimate authority, rarely use it for the benefit of the masses, but instead aim to benefit their revered peers instead. It’s a corruption of the soul that leads to a vapid life. A life that feels so empty that the only way to fill it is through the acquisition of trinkets and distractions, and the exercise of authority over subjects that have no means to retaliate or protest.

    The individualistic and narcissistic tendencies of the modern day interpretation of human rights and the rule of democratic law has created a cesspool of moral and ethical degradation that celebrates the implosion of human dignity. We’ve created structures and protocols that pacify our innate conscience so that we are not deprived of sleep at night, but we live the same indignity we impose the moment we find ourselves deprived of the resources we once wielded.

    For governments it’s a coup or a landslide defeat when being removed from power. For organisations, it’s the cheque book holders that dethrone the arrogant heads that no longer serve them well. For society, it’s the leaders that fall from grace when their morally objectionable behaviour that is celebrated in private becomes public. We only seem to be called to account if the common knowledge of our excess indulgence becomes noted by those perceived to be our moral authorities, otherwise turning a blind eye works well because we have much that we wish others would overlook as well.

    We’re a society that resides in glass houses. We lament the erosion of dignity and peace, but refuse to acknowledge our contribution to it. This is not a rant, it’s a lament. We’re so focused on appearances, perceptions, and reputation, that we dare not disappoint the expectations of those that need our fickleness as a yardstick against which to measure their own.

    Society, of which I am a futile member, have become nothing more than a projection of rage on that which we cannot influence, or prevent. We are enslaved, more by our fears of being human than by any system imposed on us. Authenticity is rare. It requires an embrace of who we are, and a conviction in who we want to be. Most are willing to settle for the facade, because the substance appears far too daunting to pursue. The path of least resistance has never been more appealing to the meek than it is now. It is therefore no wonder that we are meek in conviction, and bold in oppression, of ourselves, and those around us.

    [This turned out to be more cryptic than intended]

  • The Way You Do That Thing

    I recently read an article that suggested that they could provide you with insights into your personality depending on how you held your handbag, and the first thought that came to mind was, “How fickle!” Then I thought about it a little more and quickly realised that the same can be done with almost any shared behaviour that can be analysed between people. There is a general tone that underlies all of these behaviours, and it’s that emotional tone that I think is more insightful than any reactive analysis of how we handle a bag, purse, or wallet.

    I’ve found that my mental state is either calm and composed, excited and passionate, or weighed down and dreary. Sure, there are a number of permutations that exist across each of those bands, and that is to be expected, but there is almost always only one of them that is dominant at any given point in time. The one that is dominant is either spurred on by environment, or objective. The stronger we are at maintaining our sense of self in the face of adversity, the more likely we’ll be able to maintain our disposition out of choice rather than through instinctive response to what is happening around us.

    With this somewhat simplistic view, consider it within the context of how you write or doodle. When you’re calm and composed, in other words not feeling threatened or under pressure, your signature will probably be more fluid in its movements or curves. Your fingers or wrist won’t strain when you’re signing that till slip or contract, and your pressure will be differentiated just enough to place emphasis on those elements that subconsciously define your passions and inclinations, while skimming over those that simply complete the statement of who you are. Sign the same till slip when you’re feeling pressured or under duress, and suddenly the elements that were previously just mildly emphasized are now prominent, while the detail of the rest is quickly transformed into an unrecognizable squiggle because making a statement about the complete you is not so important. All that is important when you’re in that mindset is to establish your significance. To make a bold statement about who you are and why you demand to be taken seriously.

    The same is true when we doodle. Under duress the doodle is harsh and deliberate. Usually concentrated patches of graphics or hard angles, while fluid and shaded when we’re not under duress. Squares and jagged edges replace curves and flowers to express frustration or anxiety. Logical flows or sequences reflect a need for structure, or an expression of boredom, and so on.

    At the risk of over simplifying it (more than I already have) this in a nutshell is how every action of ours reflects what is going on internally. Those that pay attention to these nuances in our behaviour gain an insight into our frame of mind that allows them to use it, or abuse it to their advantage. Sometimes, a sincere observer will pick up on it and find ways to either draw you out of the detrimental phase you’re in, or they’ll make you aware of it so that you can use it to your advantage. How? Consider it from this perspective. If I am aware of the response I get from others when I’m angry, and that response gets the results that I need after all other avenues are exhausted, in future I will be able to draw on anger as a tool of expression when needed, rather than sliding into an angry state because I’m out of control.

    What I mean is, if anger is used as a tool of expression, rather than a last resort to demand to be taken seriously, it becomes a lot more productive and is easier to harness and control, than if it is simply a state that overtakes us in a moment of desperation. To achieve this, we must be mindful (yeah, that word again). But mindful of what, you might ask? Mindful of the dynamics of the situation we’re faced with, and more importantly, mindful of our internal state in response to that situation. A third dimension that extends from the latter is an ongoing awareness of our abilities or talents. The more aware we are of what we’re capable of, the more likely we will be to deliberately draw on those abilities or talents selectively when needed, rather than relying on instinct to bring it to the fore when needed.

    So how does all this relate to how you do that thing? The way you walk, the angle of your step, the gait you adopt, the completeness of your smile, the expressiveness of your style. It all reflects who you are, and what you wish to convey to the world. The more bold you are, the more confident you are that where you’re at is worth being admired and celebrated. The more subtle you are, the less likely you are to want the attention of others unless specifically needed. We say more with our actions and non-verbal expressions than we ever say with words. Think about that the next time you remain quiet when you know someone is expecting an overt verbal response. Then smile quietly as you have that a-ha moment. It’s that moment that, if nurtured, will spur you on to grow larger than the life you lead up to that point. That’s the power of mindfulness. It forces us to be accountable where before we felt we were victims.

  • Trials of Success

    Too often we consider the hardships of our lives to be the trials we endure. Trials, however, are relative to our perception of what our true goals are in life. In our aspirations to be successful, or more accurately as is true in most cases, to be perceived as successful by others, it’s easy to be distracted into believing that that perception is in fact the goal. If the higher priority is how I’m perceived, and the lesser priority is what convictions I am loyal to, it stands to reason that I will lose sight of my convictions and find myself to be unfulfilled when the taste of success brushes my palate.

    I struggle to speak plainly these days. I think this struggle is related to the audience that I have become aware of. I miss the days when I was able to quietly contemplate the fascination of life without a need to articulate, share it, or worse still, get affirmation for it. The more I exposed my thoughts and philosophies to others, the more I attracted like-minded individuals into my space. At first this offered comfort given my need to be sane. Sanity, for me, was determined by whether or not the logic in my head was relatable to the people that I perceived as having normal and clutter-free lives. Little did I know it was all a mirage.

    I once read that if everyone were to throw their problems into a pile for everyone else to see, we’d all reach in to take our own problems back, because the problems of others will seem that much more daunting. Perception is probably the true currency of human engagement. We polarise towards that which appears to reflect our struggles or aspirations, assuming that our perception of the same defines its purity as well. These are the mirages we create for ourselves, especially when we’re so outwardly focused that we forget the ‘why’ that exists internally only.

    It is the same ‘why’ that is lost when we find success in a public setting. Setting out to change the world is a goal we set when we’re not popular because that isolation often gives us a raw view of everything we think is wrong with the world. That perception changes as we begin to access the niceties. The trinkets that feed the ego and extend our spheres of influence, leading us to believe that changing the world is suddenly possible, and not just an angst-driven dream of a teenager. But soon after this realisation dawns the realisation that in order to continue influencing, we need to remain relevant. Unfortunately, that relevance was spawned from the success we enjoyed when our isolated thoughts became mainstream to those around us. That is the fork in the road right there.

    The struggle that I struggle to articulate this morning is that remaining focused on the change I hoped to inspire in the world becomes increasingly difficult as the popularity and its fruit grows. Suddenly I find myself distracted by the subconscious desires I held as a child when I saw the popular kids being smothered with attention and acceptance while I remained the odd one on the outside of the circle peering in. The thirst that went unquenched for so long is suddenly blinding in its fulfillment. It’s akin to that moment when breaking fast on a hot day and taking that first sip of ice cold water. The struggle of the entire day of going without food or water instantly dissipates and is quickly replaced by the intense satisfaction of being able to trace every droplet of relief as it ran through my body fulfilling a need that is so base in its nature, that no amount of success or attention could surpass it at that moment.

    Sad then to note that the innate desires that went unfulfilled can so easily overtake lifelong convictions in a moment of acceptance. Acceptance by the same groups that we once saw as part of the problem. The attention whoring that goes with success is ironical. It’s the rise to fame that in fact becomes our fall from grace. But it’s a fall that only we can recognise internally, but rarely do we allow it to be on show externally.

    I suspect that I have said much without saying anything at all. The struggle to articulate becomes stronger as I find my philosophies embraced. The need to recede echoes louder than ever. I must withdraw from the charade before I become one with the mirage. If this is the angst I feel with such a small dose of popularity, how much more vacuous must be the existence of those that actively court such popularity instead?

  • Heroes and Hero Worship

    I once heard someone say that each time we create a hero, we diminish our own capacity for greatness. It’s a truth I can easily subscribe to because I cannot relate to the reality of having heroes to begin with. I’ve never looked at someone and thought to myself, “I want to grow up to be just like you”. So this truth is my truth, whether convenient or not. I consider those with heroes to be blessed, but simultaneously sheltered. The convenience of it must be so comforting.

    I’m not talking of heroes from history books or personalities that existed at some point in time prior to my existence. Those tend to be mythical figures of greatness more than anything else because of the bias that history affords them. Their status is relative to the narrator and therefore lacks in authenticity more often than not. The heroes that matter are the ones that bring value systems to life. The ones that are authentic to their stated principles and engage sincerely whether they meet a pauper or a prince. Those heroes I have yet to meet.

    Imagine a life where you have someone like that to turn to for advice and guidance. Someone that gently prompts you in the right direction when you err, or sets you out on the right footing so that you err less. Imagine being able to speak your mind or ramble about your dreams, and such rambling is met with a fond embrace and assurance that anything is possible, rather than a cynical slap in the teeth to wake you from your daydreams to smell the coffee. Imagine how beautifully sheltered you would be then?

    That is why hero worship diminishes our own capacity for greatness. Heroes are figments of our imagination. We turn ordinary beings into creations that are larger than life, not because they wanted it, but because our fickleness needs it. Well, sometimes they want it. In fact, most of us desire it because we see how heroes are celebrated for just being humane or acting with conviction. You’d think that would be the norm, but alas it is not, and the sarcasm dripping from my mouth right now makes it difficult to continue this train of thought.

    But that’s what heroes and hero worship is. It’s an indulgence in our own fantasies because we’re raised with fairy tales and tooth fairies. Yet, despite this reality, the gravity of life far outweighs the gravity of earth, and in so doing, we all yearn for such celebration because it would allow us to experience a manufactured reality that is beyond the grasp of the average being. Then again, isn’t all reality manufactured?

    Be a hero, or create one from nothing, the awkward truth remains. It is only the unpleasant appeal that life holds for us in general that lends credence to fairy tales and heroes because without them, the raw reality of our existence is too much for the fickle masses to bear. Unethical leaders recognise weakness well, which is why they play into these fears and create heroes out of medication, distractions, and trinkets by convincing us that without it we simply would not be able to survive.

    [end cynical rant]