Tag: conviction

  • Conviction

    I always assumed that the key driver that prevented people from making the changes in their lives that they knew needed to be made was a lack of courage. That lack of courage I always assumed to be the result of fear to embrace the new while giving up the comfort zone or the dysfunction that we’ve grown to cope with. But after an interesting discussion with an undefined acquaintance yesterday I realised that there may be another dynamic to all this that I failed to notice. That dynamic is the issue of pride. Pride is what keeps most of us stuck in ways that we know are sub-optimal in our lives, but we stubbornly persist in our ways because backing down is so strongly associated with failure.

    I think in that lies the key to understanding the influence that pride has on our convictions. Convictions, I’ve always believed, is a reflection of priorities. That which we place more emphasis on will receive a greater investment of energy, while everything else will fall in line behind that. So if the way we’re perceived by others is a higher priority than the way we find contentment in our personal space, then it stands to reason that we will nurture those behaviours that sustain that perception rather than make the adjustments that will give us peace. Say hello to chronic ailments and mental disorders. But I’ll leave that rant for another time.

    The cycle doesn’t start/stop there because the question then arises as to what it is that influences the priorities that we choose for ourselves? The fact that these priorities are a result of an evolutionary process as we grow and is most often not a distinctive thought process that we experience consciously implies that we’re mostly unaware of these priorities that drive us. I guess in this case priorities are pretty much the choices we make in life. When those choices are well-informed, they serve us well. When they’re not, they drive us towards nurturing perceptions rather than substance.

    The underlying drivers that prompt us to make these choices are our beliefs in our ability to be successful in the choices we make. More simply stated, if we are confident we’ll be successful, we’ll be more inclined to pursue the change or the improvement. But if we doubt our ability to reach that goal, we’ll compensate by finding distractions or excuses as to why it’s not possible or important for us to pursue it. That’s where that pride factor comes in. The more proud we are, the less likely we’ll be to expose ourselves to situations where failure is a real possibility. The only time we pursue such ‘risky’ endeavours is if we believe that the repercussions of not doing so would be more severe than the repercussions of failure, which brings us back to the issue of priorities.

    If it’s more important for me to maintain the façade I created about the perception of success that I think others hold of me, I will sacrifice relationships or rights that others have over me, because fulfilling those rights or maintaining those relationships is not as important to me as being perceived as a success. Success in this case is not limited to material targets or wealth, but can also relate to simple things like being seen as independent, aloof, or righteous, to name a few examples.

    Taking all this back to the opening thoughts, the correlation between the perception of failure if we back down, versus the pride of not wanting to be seen as a failure explains why it is that even in the face of overwhelming odds, we sometimes hold on to behaviours that we know are detrimental to our wellbeing. When the motivation to move forward is greater than the motivation to maintain the façade, that is when conviction will triumph over cowardice. However, I guess if we really wanted to, we could argue that conviction in maintaining the façade is what drives that behaviour as well, so it may be safe to say that conviction can be misguided if pride steps into the equation. And pride, as we know, is a result of focusing on what others think of us rather than being true to what we think of ourselves.

    Perhaps conviction is more accurately associated with the latter, as in how we perceive ourselves? Pride prevents honesty in that introspection process because if we perceive ourselves through the eyes of others, we immediately curtail perspectives that may uncover flaws that we know will detract from that perception. This thought process is exhausting. I think that’s a pretty accurate reflection of why most people avoid it, and as a result, why we have so few that act with meaningful conviction and so many that behave like attention whores or victims to society. I suspect there isn’t much difference between the two.

  • 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]

  • Carrots And Sticks

    I recall, with some discomfort, a time in my life when I was painfully focused on how I was received by others. I recall simple moments when I made someone laugh quite unexpectedly, and then found myself feeling compelled to continue focusing on possible behaviours or witty statements to solicit more of the same. It took a long time for me to realise that it wasn’t just the laughter that I enjoyed, but the attention.

    Being noticed for the same reasons we wish to be noticed is more addictive than any drug you’ll ever find. Ironically, it’s the absence of this validation that drives many to drugs to escape the reality of their insignificance, relative to their needs of course. But that’s not the point of this post. The eventual realisation of what I was getting from such experiences confirmed a painful truth that I only realised was painful much later on. I’m slow like that, fortunately so. It was the realisation that my self-worth, and therefore my actions, we’re largely defined by what I wanted from people rather than what I wanted to contribute.

    Being driven by the fickleness of others is a good way to erode any sense of purpose or fulfilment in life. No wonder so many enter their twilight years feeling betrayed and bitter, and often disheartened at the thought of all that they didn’t achieve, or that they don’t have. That’s what being a whore to society does. It robs you of your dignity while you’re trying to appear dignified.

    Against that backdrop, I always find it curious when I see people motivating themselves to improve themselves by tying such motivation to someone around them. They’re effectively saying that only if you do x for me, then only will I do the right thing for me. Stated differently, I’m improving myself so that you can be proud of me or accept me for the person I can be, but I’ll stop doing it if you’re not around, or if you reject me because then it’s not worth being a better me. In other words, you will be my carrot and my stick, without which I have no purpose in life.

    When you’re focused on acceptance, you become a consumer. Consumers are good for the economy, but they’re rarely the beneficiaries. The same way they make businessmen richer while indulging in trinkets to distract themselves, needing validation makes the attention you receive the trinket that distracts you from being you. I’ve often heard, and said, that many people exist only, and then they die without having lived much at all. I now think that there is a fate worse than this. Many people live a life of subservience to others while fooling themselves into believing that they’re in fact serving humanity, or some other higher purpose. They’re the ones whose eyes light up when they’re showered with attention and affection but become almost entirely mute in its absence.

    By design, fulfilment and purpose is only ever realised when we serve a cause greater than ourselves, or larger than our lives. Self indulgence is an insatiable cycle, even more so when we don’t realise that it’s our ego that we serve. Service to a higher calling is what connects us. No one ever connects with others when they’re focused on their own needs before anything else. Just because that pursuit of the self may appear sincere or subservient doesn’t suddenly make it meritorious. In fact, the more adept we are at disguising it, the more detrimental it is to our sense of self.

    For me, beauty lies not in being attracted to those that accept me, but more in connecting with those that are passionate about the spheres that I hope to influence, or embrace. Anything else is simply a pacification of my unwillingness to accept my inability to influence change in the world around me.

  • The Hazard of Conviction

    The risk of living your life with conviction is falling in love too easily. Stop. Not every statement of love is about needy bonds between two people. No. Love is more wholesome when it is considered within the context of giving of yourself without restraint just so that you can experience the joy of such abandon, even if it is discarded or goes unnoticed. The aftermath of such rejection is what primes us for our next encounter. Sometimes it builds walls so high and tough that we lose any conviction in living with conviction. But sometimes, it strips us of any pride we may have had in holding on to the delusion of being in control, and as a result we find ourselves actively pursuing the ideal that got away.

    Despite my disillusionment at those that live life focused on pleasing or appeasing others, I can’t despise them for it because I know that those same weaknesses exist within me. I may not succumb to it as often these days, but I’ve had my bouts of indulgence that left me questioning my significance and my sanity. But this is not about self-doubt, it’s about conviction. Those that lack conviction demonstrate an absence of love or passion in what they do, and it shows. We are drawn to that which resonates with our convictions, be they values, principles, or even aspirations. We are repulsed by those that create noise or disturbance around these core issues of our serenity, sometimes overtly, but often as a natural dislike that cannot be easily explained.

    I find it easier to engage meaningfully with someone that holds contradictory views to my own when they express such views with conviction and sincerity, as opposed to the whimsical agreement I receive from many that are too afraid to offend me. We need receptive hearts before we find the words to express the message that stirs within us. People with conviction are often those receptive hearts we need, while people without it tend to sway with the fads and the fickleness of the times, leaving very little room for inspiration, but much for consumerism. Given how distracted society is these days, it’s safe to assume that the distracted are many, while the convicted are few. When the convicted challenge the distractions, they are purged from society under the guise of maintaining the peace. (I suspect that many will struggle to see the ‘convicted’ as one with conviction, as opposed to a common criminal, which ironically contradicts the fact that the one without conviction is in fact the thief of the peace in our lives).

    Choosing to live with conviction is choosing a path laden with heartache and disappointment, occasionally peppered with a glint of beauty from those that have experienced enough betrayal and disappointment to learn to be true to themselves. But those moments of beauty cannot be traded for anything less, because everything else only feeds the desire to embrace that beauty. It is akin to achieving the realisation of something, which once realised, cannot be un-realised. The absence of conviction makes it that much more difficult to recover from betrayal, because when we lack a sense of who we are and what we stand for, we are more likely to court the affirmation of others for the sake of affirmation, rather than finding comfort in being grounded in our focus on a higher purpose.

    There are too many of us that are trying to live someone else’s dream, while believing that it is in fact our own. We’re afraid to scratch beneath the surface, or disrupt the system, while we celebrate the disruptive ones. We find a calling behind a rebel, but spurn rebels amongst us. We contradict ourselves regularly, but are oblivious to such contradiction because it is in balance with society. We allow society to define us while we despise ourselves for being defined. We want to be unique individuals, just like everyone else, and the saddest irony is that most don’t get the irony in that.

    I have fallen in and out of love with people in brief moments of random encounters. Some have held my love for longer, while others took it for granted because they were distracted by affirmation too soon. Seeing the gold in the eyes of one that feels a sudden and unexpected elation at truly grasping a moment of beauty in their own lives is priceless. It is what drives me to be uncompromising and tenacious in my effort to unlock more of it in everything around me. Those that lack such conviction find me impossible to deal with, but those that have it experience moments of revelation that reveals the beauty beneath the cesspool of society.

    I am at odds with society, and I love it. I never wanted to fit in, although at times I desired acceptance. But conformity was never an option. I pray that I will meet others with an equal conviction in my lifetime, not just fleeting glimpses of them, but a true embrace of souls that will provide a distant echo of the peace that lies beyond.

  • Expectations and Ingratitude

    I sometimes find myself taking offence when someone does not fulfil my rights. I mean, it’s my rights, so why shouldn’t I get offended if they abdicate their responsibility in the process? But then I felt that familiar twinge I usually feel whenever I know I’m being deliberately arrogant. It’s a twinge that causes me to rationalise in my mind whether or not that arrogance is called for, or is it really just a self-indulgent tantrum. Slowly it dawned on me that despite the rights I may have, taking offence to it not being fulfilled suggests that I feel entitled to it.

    Entitlement can sometimes be justified, especially in the above scenario, but it doesn’t mean that my underlying motives cease to exist. My sense of entitlement also implies that I have an expectation, and I still maintain that expectations are at the root of much bitterness (and by the way, Shakespeare never said that, no matter how many times you see that meme on the net). So it’s better to have hope instead. But that is really beside the point. The real issue that I grappled with in all of this was the fact that when I focus on my rights that need to be fulfilled, it significantly alters my demeanour when dealing with anything that is remotely contentious relative to that right.

    When I see the contribution of others as an obligation on their part rather than a blessing on mine, I easily slip into a mindset of arrogant expectation. The only time that someone is obliged to fulfil my rights is if they have an equal conviction in a common belief system where they respect the repercussions of their actions. The ingratitude, I guess, arises when I assume that reciprocation is not needed where my rights were merely being fulfilled. And perhaps in that is some truth that calls into question the sincerity of such gestures.

    Sincerity is not reciprocation. Sincerity is fulfilling the rights of others even when they neglect your rights over them. But that sincerity is relative to the intent with which such rights are respected. If we uphold the rights of others because we fear the repercussions of not doing so, then we’re insincere. The benefit may still be there, but its effects will be limited and its rewards will be absent. How this all ties up is not necessarily obvious, but it is amazingly relevant.

    If gratitude is truly tainted by entitlement, which I believe it is, and sincerity is often neglected when we feel obliged, then it makes sense to me that sincerity can only ever be true if entitlement and reciprocation play no part in our motivation to act. Sincerity in action is the result of a conviction we hold true in spite of our low opinion of another. It is with such conviction that we will find ourselves able to contribute towards the upliftment of those that we believe are culpable in their needy state. But it just occurred to me that even that conviction will be grounded in a belief of reward or recompense that is either worldly or other-worldly. Whether we believe the wheel will turn and smack us back in this lifetime, or we believe that we will receive our reward when we are judged for our actions, it amounts to the same thing. Self-preservation.

    It seems like sincerity is a wholesome concept that is grounded in our need to feel magnanimous while feigning humility. If we didn’t feel entitled, and if we were truly capable of gratitude, contentment would not be so elusive. I look around me and I see my restlessness echoed in others. This suggests to me that we’re all lacking contentment in what we have and what we need from those around us. Like darkness is only manifested in the absence of light, so too must restlessness be manifested in the absence of contentment. We won’t be restless if we didn’t feel neglected, and such feelings of neglect would not result except when we feel entitled, and such entitlement is only present when we believe we’re more significant than others perceive us to be, and so it stands to reason that our perception of our self is what drives us to be the fools we are, in search of contentment while actively pursuing that which erodes the very goal that we aspire to reach.

    Yet another vicious cycle.

     

  • Moving on

    There’s a difference between giving up and wanting to move on. Too many are shamed into staying because someone convinces them that moving on is giving up. Holding on to a bad experience, or a bad relationship is more reflective of a poor sense of self than it is of commitment. The zombies among us are those that feign loyalty while their true motivation is grounded in guilt. They’re the same ones that are bitter or angry, some passively so, but most aggressively so.

    Too many people I know live their lives committed to fulfilling the expectations of others instead of being true to themselves. Not only do they lack any sincere belief in their self-worth, but they lack any faith in the natural order of the universe. No, this is not a load of hogwash about supposed secrets that teach us that the universe gives us what we ask for. If it was that simple, we’d have world peace and beggars would indeed be riding Arabian stallions. The law of cause and effect is the universal order that we lose sight of too often.

    There is a fine line between making a choice out of commitment as opposed to making it out of conviction. Chances are, most that read this can barely tell the difference in their lives any longer. The more we focus on fulfilling the expectations of others, the more we convince ourselves that indeed that must be our purpose, and therefore our conviction in life. How we lie to ourselves to pacify our conscience when it nags at us asking what great purpose does our life serve. The most pacifying response is to convince ourselves that we lead a life of selfless service to others. So does a door mat.

    Service to others is not sacrificing yourself, but rather sacrificing your ego to allow them to view your vulnerability in a way that strengthens them. We draw comfort from knowing we can comfort. We draw strength from knowing we can protect. Yet we’re always in search of those weaker than us, or holding on to those needing our strength, rarely realising that there are others, significant others, that need to draw on our weaknesses so that they in turn can feel strong, significant, or worthy of providing comfort.

    Sometimes we stay because we don’t believe we’re deserving of better. Sometimes we stay because we hold a deep conviction that we are able to create something better. And sometimes we’re entirely oblivious as to why we stay because we’ve restrained ourselves from moving on for so long, that we’ve conditioned ourselves to believe that every reason to do so has been exhausted, and the only rational option that remains is to stay and draw strength from the morbid comfort of familiarity.

    There is a difference between giving up and wanting to move on. I choose to move on, not because I lack loyalty or commitment, but because I demand it as well. And when it is lacking, I refuse to accept that my self loathing should drive me to believe that I deserve nothing more. My greatest achievement in life has been to rid myself of the expectation of pleasing others. It came at a price. Often a very expensive price. But the liberation that it afforded me was and still is priceless. Living without feeling obliged, knowing that every act is one of choice and not obligation, knowing that every reciprocation is one of gratitude and not guilt, and knowing that favour is not my motivator but fulfilment is. That is what moving on has allowed me to achieve. The sweetness of being independent of man, but dependent on faith only. It has made me realise exactly how fickle I am, so that I find myself praying that others around me find the same comfort in faith, because fulfilment is evasive in their services to me. And so I pray that they also find comfort in moving on, even from me if needed, if that is what will give them the sweet taste of that most lonely of liberations.

  • Lethargic efforts…

    I wish wannabe poets would actually pay attention to simple spelling and grammar. Nothing spoils a potentially good piece more than shoddy typing or use of language. Contaminating poetry with the use of ‘text/sms’ lingo is inexcusable. Using accepted jargon is one thing, but replacing ‘you’re’ with ‘your’ and ‘their’ with ‘there’ shows a total lack of appreciation, if not common sense about simple words that should’ve been learnt in your early school years. They have very different meanings and using them incorrectly makes an otherwise logical statement illogical. 

    Get it right already, or else don’t write! You’re doing a disservice to yourself and to those that read your work if you don’t have the time or conviction to put effort into what you’re writing. Just having something to say is worthless if you don’t bother to say it in a way that will actually make sense to the person expected to read it. There’s no point in using your writing/blogging/tweeting to make a statement to the world if your statement is nonsensical. 

    That’s just my little rant from those of us that do appreciate an intelligent, rather than spastic use of the language.