Tag: emotions

  • The nuance of a good life

    The nuance of a good life

    It’s not the blatant acts of disrespect or rejection that hurt us the most, it’s the subtle gestures that leave room for doubt or interpretation that leave deep scars.

    Nuance thrives in those subtle gestures because nuance is what allows us to avoid conflict, or resist commitment. It allows us a graceful exit for just-in-case so that we can claim that we didn’t mean it that way, or that they misunderstood.

    Nuance is the art of saying more than you’re willing to say without actually saying it. Like the subtle brush of your hand against your partner in company when a full-blown embrace or heavy patting may be frowned upon. Or perhaps when you smile a half smile and don’t return the kiss to avoid an argument.

    Nuance allows us to test boundaries, and to test our significance in someone else’s life. We throw subtle hints about what we want, but won’t speak out openly about it because we don’t want to create reason for doubt within ourselves about whether they responded out of obligation, or because they sincerely wanted to make us happy.

    Nuance allows us to see if someone is ready to accept what we want to offer, without actually offering it, so that we protect ourselves from a hurtful rejection.

    There are parts of who we are that we’ve embraced so fiercely that no amount of ridicule will ever shame us about it. But there are parts of ourselves that we hide because we want to only give that one special person the power to handle it. It defines the sanctity of who we are, and solemnises the trust that we wish to place in them.

    It’s a vulnerability that we embrace and cherish because in its handling lies the essence of the bond that we wish to share with that special one.

    It’s the expectation willingly courted that holds the joy of fulfilment if fulfilled, or destroys hope if left hopelessly ignored.

    Once spoken, doubt is subdued and expectation justified.

    The unspoken word has destroyed more hope and created more angst than any revelation of love, or its denial.

    If left unspoken, it remains a torture within, without any claim to relief from the one in whose hands your joy rests, waiting to be roused into being.

    Perhaps it is in our efforts to protect ourselves or others through withholding what we don’t wish to impose on them that we destroy the very joy that we hope they will find without us, or us without them.

  • That Book I Promised for So Long

    That Book I Promised for So Long

    For years now, I’ve been contemplating writing that book. It started, stopped, started, and stopped again…and ran through that cycle a few more times. A couple of years ago I finally gave it meaningful consideration and started out with a collection of essays that I thought would be a reasonable first stab at that book.

    I reworked it, reformatted it, and did all sorts of things with it, until early this year when I decided to rewrite it from scratch. What was to be a collection of essays morphed into my obsession called The Egosystem. It is the distilled wisdom of everything I have been writing about for more than 10 years on this and other blogs.

    The Egosystem finally gives a shape and a form to the thought processes that I go through day in and day out, which informs my observations, insights, and quirks about life, love, and laughter. It takes the reader through a gentle process of unpacking the way our emotions are strung together, without being prescriptive, or presumptuous in the process. It simply lays bare the inner workings of our minds, so that we can become aware of why we are the way we are. It is only once this realisation is achieved that we can hope to make more informed and effective decisions about which path we wish to take.

    Until we reach this point of awareness, we are simply responding to subconscious triggers and emotional needs without truly embracing the power of being present in the moments that shape our lives. The Egosystem is the foundation of who we are as human beings, and defines in a non-academic way, a synopsis of the human condition that wears so many of us down.

    I hope that this will be the first of many books that I write, because after completing this piece of work I cannot imagine myself doing anything else with such conviction. The application of The Egosystem is so versatile that it spawns variations that are begging to be explored. One of those that must receive attention soonest is how the Egosystem plays out in failed relationships specifically, and the disastrous effect that such failures often have on innocent children caught up in the sway as collateral damage.

    Perhaps, in some strange way, it is a calling that I needed to answer given my first hand experiences at such human dysfunction. This was a book that was begging to be written, and it feels like it has defined the beginning of a whole new journey in my life. A journey that may make the sum of my experiences to date nothing more than reference material for the true purpose of my being.

    I hope that you will find familiarity and insight in The Egosystem, and that it will allow you to take back control of your emotions, your life,  and your love. Whether it be for another, for some material objective, or for a creative passion. Living through such endeavours without being able to fully immerse yourself in it can be a very unsettling experience. It taints the product of our labour, and further weighs down on the clutter that keeps us distracted in the back of our minds.

    Living with conviction and loving with sincerity. It the greatest gift we could give ourselves, and the ones we love, because anything less is cheating life while death approaches.

    To get your copy, please find details of the book on the page dedication to The Egosystem on this blog, or on my main website at zaidismail.com.

    Thank you to everyone that has followed, and often shared my journey to this point over the years. With gratitude, Zaid.

     

  • Sensible Emotional Investment

    That’s an oxymoron of note, I guess. Emotions generally take us on a journey of reckless abandon, even if that abandon is just the unrealistic expectations that the emotional highs spawn in us. One of the downsides of living with conviction is that you easily become emotionally invested in almost any objective that you set out to achieve. Conviction dictates that you would only do something if you were proud to be associated with the outcome, or perhaps just the effort regardless of the outcome. Without conviction, the focus would be on what you can get out of a given opportunity without being invested in its pursuit or outcome. Although that is not entirely true.

    I think we have convictions, whether or not we realise it is a separate matter. Just because we’re not aware of what drives us does not mean that we’re not similarly driven. I see people struggling with mindfulness and I wonder why it is so difficult for them to achieve. At times it is elusive for me as well, but that’s usually when I’m distracted by entertainment rather than meaningful endeavours.

    However, most appear to seek entertainment (read ‘distractions’) actively while meaningful endeavours are only pursued out of necessity. It seems like such a lopsided way to live. Either way, those prioritisations that we subconsciously subscribe to determine our convictions. The more subconscious it is, the more likely we are to respond instinctively or habitually without fully understanding why. I’ve seen people getting themselves into all sorts of twisted knots when going through life this way because they most often find themselves weighed down without knowing why, or caring while knowing full well that that emotional investment is unappreciated or abused. Underlying all of this mindlessness is a deep sense of self-deprecation.

    Ok, did I lose you at mindlessness? Think about it. If you’re not mindful, then you must be mindless, at least within a specific context where you’re not fully present. When we’re mindless, we don’t suddenly stop functioning. We continue to function reasonably well. But being mindless, it must mean that we’re on auto-pilot at that time. Which begs the question, what programs our auto-pilot mode? I think it’s the constant internalisations of how we want to be perceived, relative to how we conduct ourselves to achieve such a perception.

    Ugh, that sounds unnecessarily complicated. Let’s try again. When we focus on how we appear in front of others, we obsess with how we need to behave to maintain our preferred appearances. In other words, we know what others admire or respect, and we play to those whims. In so doing, we condition ourselves to respond in line with those perceived expectations. The more accurate our assumptions about those expectations, the more effective our auto-pilot responses. The more effective our responses, the more likely we are to feel a sense of validation and acceptance, resulting in a further investment in that approach to life. Until we have a jarring moment that prompts us to wonder if we really subscribe to the value system that has turned us into whores for that attention or acceptance.

    In that moment, we’re forced to either accept or reject what we have grown to stand for. The idea of self-rejection is so troubling for so many, that most convince themselves that they would be worthless without such whorish behaviour. Challenge them on it and you’re likely to get a response along the lines of, “You don’t know what it’s like to be me.” Or similar drivel. Mindlessness is therefore a result of a lack of self-worth. A lack of self-worth then must be spawned by a lack of conscious purpose. That lack of conscious purpose is driven by a need for validation, which pretty much starts with an ingratitude for what you have and what you’re capable of while you’re focusing on how much others have and what they appear to be capable of. Hold on, did we just come full circle for mindfulness?

    Looking inwardly, not to achieve a moment of silence or pause, but to recognise what is good and what is beneficial in your life is the starting point of investing your emotions in the right place. When you do this, you develop the convictions needed to establish yourself as a contributor of meaningful outcomes to those around you, rather than riding the coat-tails of others while pretending to be supportive. As long as you’re riding someone else’s coat-tails, you’ll have a deficit of self-worth because you will always be dependent on their presence and acceptance of you for your sense of self-worth to flourish. In other words, the moment they push you away, you will have no grounding point with which to determine your ability to contribute something of value to others.

    Invest in your awareness of what your capabilities are, understand clearly what difference you want to make to this world, and then define a path of progress that will allow you to hone your skills and abilities to contribute meaningfully towards that difference you wish to make. Don’t worry about attracting the right person into your life, or worse still, going out in search of the right person or friends, because if you do what you love, and they do what they love, it stands to reason that you will find yourself associated with those that hold a similar conviction, and therefore live their lives with a similar passion as you do yours. And all this confirms the age old saying that you should not go searching for the one you love. Do what you love and your love will find you.

    P.S. If you don’t live your life in this way, you will live your life expending massive amounts of energy competing with others that are vying for the attention of those that live their lives in this way. Your emotions. Your choice. Do you have the courage to make that choice, or are you waiting for someone to come along and save you…from yourself?

  • A Thousand Thoughts

    The last few weeks have been harrowing but beautiful. It was a combination of everything that is wrong with this world, and everything that could be right. It took me from the depths of despair and despondency to the heights of elation and then left me abandoned somewhere in between, drifting along my meandering path as I tried to make sense of the extremes I had just faced.

    My usual composed nature was too easily disrupted this time around. I found myself feeling deeply what I usually only observe with fair detachment. It was oddly uplifting while simultaneously jarring. However, the truth of it rested somewhat deeper within me.

    I have expended a fair amount of life in the pursuit of understanding the range of emotions that I witness in others, because too often I found myself unmoved while standing beside someone in a moment of devastation. Many would interpret that as insensitivity, when the truth was closer to oblivion. That oblivion was founded in the lack of any reference point against which to relate to what was happening around me. In the absence of not having been a recipient of a full emotional spectrum (for lack of a better phrase) it should be easy to understand why it is that some of it would seem foreign to me. For some reason, this simple logic escapes most people, including me at times.

    There is much that I have heard, learnt, and contemplated about the true impact of environmental and societal influences on our fragile but powerful minds in our formative years. I witness its damaging effects in my daughter who still struggles to subscribe to a code of morality and ethics that should be second nature to her. I also see it reflected in my other daughter who is distracted by a false sense of control while finding comfort in owning a space that is not yet fully formed, and by implication, not hers to own. I observe them as being growing human beings, but I am often reminded that many adults have not completed that cycle either.

    I thought that I was finally succumbing to hopelessness. I receded, allowed the fog to occupy my mind, while I surrendered to the approaching storm without even bracing myself for its impact. Fortunately such cowardice didn’t last long. What felt like a surrender turned out to be tolerance, or more accurately, intolerance. I realised that with all that I was faced with, I set out viewing it as yet another cycle of insanity given how many times I faced it off before, and gave up wanting to prevail in the face of it. That was me defining my tolerance level for the wave of bullshit that was about to hit. At that point, my own words taunted me. Tolerance is not the same as capacity. I realised that I had decided that I had had enough, even though I was capable of handling so much more.

    Emotions are for wimps. It’s a convenient barometer against which to determine the composure of others, but beyond that it lacks appeal for me, except where such emotional charges are harnessed and leveraged for effectiveness, rather than spewed forth from a lack of control, or a fit of self-absorption. I had my moment as a wimp in the sunshine, and I didn’t enjoy it. It was not about control, it was about practicality. The intensity of the emotions that I experienced in those moments allowed me to feel vulnerable, and therefore slightly more human than I am usually considered to be, but it did not offer me any value beyond the perception it created for me.

    I realised that in seeking to understand and be sensitised towards the emotions of others, I unconsciously adopted some of it for myself. I allowed my environment to shape me for those few moments, and it was unnerving. I came close to believing that I had finally gone over the edge, and that the conditioned responses I witnessed in others had suddenly become my choice of expression. Fortunately that resilience that has guided me through my life set in for reasons I have yet to fully comprehend. Perhaps I do comprehend it, but would rather not articulate it from fear of contaminating it.

    Some things are better left unsaid, and some things are better left unexplored. The mystique of life is lost when we seek to define and unravel every wonderment that visits us. Sometimes, to stand in awe is more powerful than to know the answer. Right now, I know that the realisations are far more important than the events themselves. What these weeks have proven is that despite my best efforts in life, there are some things that will follow its own course in spite of me, and there are other things that will follow its own course to spite me. In both instances, if my response is anything but a true reflection of who I am, I will be uprooted and any semblance of sanity will escape me forever.

    The slippery slope of life beckons, but I’m not ready to step down on it yet.

    [This post is deliberately vague, more so than my other posts, because I think the emotional tides that I surfed are more important than the events that I dealt with. The events come and go and change shape and form more often than the tide comes in, so to focus on that is foolhardy. It always made more sense for me to focus on the internal promptings I faced in the experience at hand, and that has kept me on an even keel when all about me were in rough waters. The challenge with such a perspective is that it lifts my emotional baseline above most around me. That baseline is the point at which my emotional disposition shifts compared to others when faced with the same circumstance. At times, it could imply that I am cold and insensitive in the face of loss when sadness should be expressed. At other times it could be that I would be fascinated with something seemingly mundane, while others look on unimpressed. The offset is awkward, but it creates opportunity for much mockery, and this is turning into a post within a post, so I should abandon this thought process before it becomes totally incomprehensible.]

  • Sheltered

    The analytical mind is quite curious. It sets aside emotion and observes objectively that which presents itself before us. The keener the observation, the less emotional it is. The more emotional, the less accurate the assessment. Yet both these dispositions, emotional and analytical, are needed for a wholesome life.

    From personal experience, and my observations of those that I’ve engaged with over the years, it seems that the most analytical are the ones that had the least wholesome upbringing. They were typically the ones that were misunderstood, emotionally isolated, or worse. They generally have unpleasant stories to tell, usually with a snigger and a laugh, as they recount their days of strife at the hands of family members or neighbourhood bullies with a strong cynical undertone. They’re the scarred beauties that have become detached, because attachment is either unfamiliar or holds no appeal.

    In contemplating this scenario, I was initially inclined to believe that the opposing tale must be one of emotional cocooning. To be smothered with love and understanding, while nurturing a healthy, if not over indulgent self-esteem, they’re raised by parents who always made time for their quirks and pains, while leading a moderately successful life of measured luxury and homely warmth. Sounds almost idyllic, if not fairy tale-like. But it does happen, so I know it’s a reality, even though it may not be a reality that I, or others like me, can relate to.

    As my mind wandered through this meandering path the one word that kept whispering in the back of my cynical mind was ‘sheltered’. The more I considered their good fortune, the more I found myself ambivalently envious of their blessings, while equally spurning their sense of entitled protection. It’s a reality that they depend on because it is the frame of reference within which they were raised. My frame of reference is very different though, and if it weren’t for the sobering moments of my life, I would have been hell bent on believing that they were the enemy. The ones that had it easy while judging the rest of us, while we made it through life the hard way, only to be placed second best to their privileged upbringing.

    But the reality is very different from such a jaundiced view of the differences we share. The shelter they find in the emotional wholesomeness with which they were raised contributes to the compassion that we desperately need in this world. The rest of us, the analytical ones, use that emotional deficit to clearly articulate the problem statements that are so elusive when looking at the world through rose-coloured spectacles. However, if my personal experiences are anything to go by, compassion fatigue sets in easily with those that see the painful cycles repeating themselves, and having the analytical wit to most often accurately pre-empt a distasteful outcome. At times like those, it’s the emotionally grounded beings that see reason to drag us out of despair and continue to fight the good fight.

    But the truth is closer to the reality that both are equally sheltered. Both enjoy the familiarity of their frame of reference that shelters them from the reality of the other. To the emotionally obese, living a cold and detached existence is impossible to contemplate, while the analytical sees the pointless emotional indulgences and sneers at the waste of productive time spent molly-coddling (I hate that phrase!) those that appear too fragile to function without a hug. It’s a despicable envy on both parts that adds beautifully intricate, yet entertaining hues to the panorama of life.

    Unfortunately, there are too many that fail to see what shelters them, and in so doing, find sufficient reason to despise the rest that appear to be unfairly privileged relative to their sombre upbringing. At some point, the choice to accept or deny our own privilege becomes ours, and ours alone. Life is cliched like that. But we’re often so intent on proving that we’re not as common as everyone else, that we exclude ourselves from the very same collective that we belong to, while yearning for acceptance.

  • Repeat after me:

    dionthesocialist:

    • Mental disorders are medical conditions.
    • Mental disorders are not personality quirks.

    Repeat after me…

    • Labels will give you mental disorders
    • Labels will reinforce your submission to a condition 
    • Labels will destroy you
    • Labels will imprison you
    • Labels are just that…labels

    Now, let’s try again…

    • Stop labelling your state of mind, it’s the same as stereotyping someone and expecting them to act differently
    • The more we ‘recognise’ so-called mental disorders as valid medical conditions, the weaker society becomes in dealing holistically with social ills because every bad experience can suddenly be ‘fixed’ with a pill
    • Neuroplasticity is proof that mental ‘disorders’ are merely a state of mind that can be altered based on experience and introspection
    • Experience has confirmed that insecurity and fears of insignificance are the most common underlying causes of symptoms of a troubled mind (a.k.a. mental disorders) and not some chemical imbalance
    • Chemical reactions are triggered by thoughts and stimuli, not the other way around. Simple proof of this is a smile. It’s confirmed to release feel-good hormones regardless of your ‘mental disorder’

    Separate the symptoms from the root cause and never confuse the two. Far too often, especially in western medicine, symptoms are almost always the focus of treatment with a holistic view shunned as being a quack’s approach to good health. The mind and body work in tandem, and not independently. Abuse one, and you’ll automatically abuse the other. Treating a physical ailment without considering the psychological or emotional triggers that caused one to be predisposed to the ailment is like taking energy drinks when you know you’re not getting enough sleep. It really is that simple.

    Give yourself a chance. You deserve to believe in yourself, because people are strange like that. They rarely believe in you unless you believe in yourself first. Think about it, and give yourself a break.