Tag: mindfulness

  • Fleeting Thoughts VIII

    Fleeting Thoughts VIII

    When loyalty triumphs over justice, chaos triumphs over peace.

    Peace is elusive when love for the self is preferred over love for others.

    Love for others reflects a generous spirit, while hatred for others reflects an insecure soul.

    Insecurity is founded in ingratitude.

    Ingratitude breeds insincerity in the same way that stagnant water breeds mosquitoes.

    Stagnation spawns insecurity in the same way that success spawns envy.

    Envy is an attribute of an ungrateful heart, while appreciation is its opposing truth.

    The heart left unrestrained knows no ethics, while the mind disconnected from the heart knows no compassion.

    Compassion is practiced more by the broken than it is by the celebrated.

    Being broken is celebrated by those that lack the courage for accountability.

    Accountability is celebrated in others but spurned by the weak.

    Weakness is only so if after exhausting all avenues and resources, we still cannot prevail.

    The will to prevail is inspired by conviction in the value of the outcome.

    Conviction is impossible without purpose, and purpose is impossible to achieve without taking responsibility for its outcome.

    Responsibility is a burden only for those that don’t recognise the blessing of the capacity to give.

    Giving with the expectation of receiving is not benevolent, it is business.

    The business of transacting with emotional investments rarely yields sustainable returns.

    The best currency for emotional investments is the act of paying it forward.

    Paying it forward yields no personal returns if you are at the origin of that payment cycle.

    Emotional investment cycles are self sustaining only if everyone involved subscribes to the same values.

    Value is found in gratitude more than it is found in wallets.

    Wealth holds no peace or comfort if not spent in the upliftment of others.

    Upliftment of others is only possible by one who appreciates their blessings.

    Appreciation for what you have offers more contentment than meditation or solitude ever will.

    Solitude is sought by those disillusioned with the world.

    Disillusionment dictates that all hope must be subdued.

    Hope is fleeting when futility is courted.

    Courting futility is a safe way to avoid ambition.

    Ambition is lacking in one who sees no future.

    Giving up on the future is only possible when we focus on disappointments and dismiss any reality that opposes it.

    Dismissing the good because of the absence of a desired outcome reveals ingratitude more than it does disappointment.

    Disappointment is tempered by gratitude, and gratitude is sustained by hope.

    Expectations is the nemesis of hope because hope disarms entitlement.

    Entitlement is the currency of an ungrateful soul.

  • The Burden of Choice

    The Burden of Choice

    Choice is that horrible thing we despise when something doesn’t work out in our favour, but it’s a right we jealously defend when things go our way. Right there is the crux of balance, but balance will remain elusive if we don’t recognise the choices that we made. That is not as basic as it sounds. 

    One human trait that is available in abundance is the trait of obliviousness. Not only are we often oblivious to the impact we have on others, we are equally oblivious to the choices that we make in the process. Not being aware of the impact we have is sometimes a result of being so internally focused on our needs or flaws that we don’t expect to have any meaningful impact on anyone else. 

    When we are so distracted by that internal focus, it is easy to assume that we are simply following the rabbit hole of our thoughts without recognising the decisions we make each time we arrive at a fork in the tunnels. Roads have daylight to warm us during the day, and stars at night to guide us. No, this is a much more daunting journey than that. We rarely travel by daylight or by moonlight when our focus is so intensely internal. That is when we are most oblivious which is quite ironical given that it is exactly such introspection that we hope to make us more aware of who we are and what our contribution to this world might be. 

    And thus we trundle along through those tunnels, bumping into others, sometimes torchbearers on that path, assuming that they are only there for the same reason that we are, but ignoring the fact that they have the same needs as we do. We all just express our needs differently. Right there, in that moment, with that assumption, a choice is made. A choice to engage, to trust, to assume good, or to withdraw and assume that there is no good to be achieved, or that there is no familiarity or comfort to be taken. Those are the choices that we grow oblivious to when we become so intensely focused on our journey that we lose sight of those travelling the same journey, or perhaps having travelled it already.

    In the process of living so selfishly, despite our best intentions, we discard exactly what we may be in search of, and then lament not finding it. Sometimes we are reminded of such choices but grow defensive at the thought of being responsible for our own misery. Surely my sincere pursuit of happiness and enlightenment cannot be the cause of my own misery? Why didn’t someone make me aware of it? Why didn’t someone say something? Why couldn’t they just understand what I was going through? Even if all those questions are answered in the affirmative. it does not change the reality of the fact that it was choices, well-meaning but sometimes destructive choices that we make sincerely and with conviction that isolates the very blessing that we set out to acquire. 

    Lighthouses and travellers. The irony of this is that no one is ever only one of the two for any extended period of time. The dance of life leads us to switch roles without even realising that we are. When a lighthouse is needed, we immediately assume the position because of our desire to breathe life into that which we find wholesome, or beautiful, but just as quickly we become travellers looking to draw pleasure from that same beauty and appreciate the calming presence of the lighthouse.

    If only life was static and predictable. It never is. And the dance between lighthouses and travellers remain a fluid exchange of choices that we make in that moment. The more mindfully we choose, the greater the impact of our choices on our lives. The more oblivious we are with the choices that we make the greater the impact on the lives of others. 

    In that lies the burden of choice. We are not only accountable for the choices we recognise. That is an easy accountability to accept. It is accepting accountability for the choices that we did not intend to make that determines our authenticity and often, it determines the quality of the relationships that contribute towards the joy and comfort that we experience in life. Neglect these out of fear of being accountable for causing harm or pain, and you will find yourself troubled by consequences that seemingly have no good reason to happen to a good person. And that, I believe is one of the reasons why bad things happen to good people.

    P. S. I think it’s human to be oblivious simply because of the scale of distractions that we are exposed to all the time. Therefore, it is in becoming aware (after the fact) of the unintended harm that tests whether our ego is driven towards humility and accountability, or arrogance and deniability.

  • Mindfully Distracted

    Mindfully Distracted

    Mindfulness seems to be the next big binge for self help gurus. I don’t consider myself a self help guru by any stretch of the imagination. However, this does not prevent me from being critical about those that claim to guide others towards self improvement when in fact their guidance merely encourages distractions, or coping mechanisms instead. In its most basic form, mindfulness can be described as the ability to observe while suspending judgement or bias. In other words, don’t jump to conclusions just because what you’re observing or witnessing appears to be a familiar sight relative to a previous experience.

    The easy bit of advice would therefore be to suspend judgement and bias. Do that, and suddenly you’re mindful. Right? No. Not so easy. Judgement and bias are innate qualities that guide us through life. Even if we try to be non-judgmental about something, we need a frame of reference as to what being judgemental would be. Once we have that frame of reference, we then consciously choose to subdue parts of it in favour of exploring the possibility that something may be different about what we’re witnessing in that moment. The parts we don’t subdue are the limits of boundaries that we define for what is acceptable in that circumstance. In other words, we encounter a moment of willingness to be informed of something we didn’t previously consider while recognising that some things remain non-negotiable. Take that to the extreme, and it means that we acknowledge that there is a possibility that we may not be fully aware of the circumstances and nuances of what we’re experiencing. This forces us to be more alert and more adaptable because we realise that the outcome is potentially unpredictable, but not necessarily a threat to us.

    However, if we recognise that we may not be fully aware of the circumstances and nuances but have a greater desire to appear to be authoritative or in control, we’re more likely to grow aggressive, defensive, or simply obnoxious about how we deal with the situation at hand, often undermining the rights and feelings of others in the process. This response is grounded in insecurity about how we see ourselves, versus how we want others to perceive us. Unfortunately some people are so entrenched in their beliefs about themselves, that considering that they may be wrong about something completely disrupts their composure, which makes them aggressive, passive aggressive, or evasive. At the root of it all is a desire to be significant in that moment.

    When we desire significance, we adapt our approach towards that which we believe would encourage acceptance and admiration from those we’re interacting with. If we believe we are capable of winning such admiration and respect, our confidence grows and we become more bold and charming in our presentation of our views or the delivery of our message. However, if we doubt our ability to be convincing in that regard, we feel threatened because a show of incompetence may lead to an erosion of significance. If the audience we’re with could meaningfully influence the quality of our life, we’ll restrain the aggression and put more effort into appearing amenable to alternate perspectives. Stated differently, we try not to be offensive in our response because we believe that their acceptance of us is core to our wellbeing. This induces stress which then demands an outlet if not handled well.

    Take the above scenario and change the audience to one that we do not view as being influential on our quality of life, and suddenly our response is very different. Instead of restraining ourselves, we speak our minds, go on the attack to demand significance, and disregard any concerns about how they may view us. Incidentally, we do the same with those that we believe are less likely or unable to reject us if we behave in such an abrasive manner. That could be because of our belief in how reliant they are on us, and therefore would be forced to agree with us. This similar to those times that we felt compelled to be amenable with those characters that we didn’t agree with, but who had authority over us that could significantly affect our quality of life. For example, a boss that could fire us if we spoke openly about what we didn’t like about our job or how they were running things. Of course, sometimes we behave abrasively because the subconscious boundaries that we set for ourselves are being breached.

    But how does all of this tie into mindfulness? Each time we get a sense of dread or elation, we’re automatically distracted by the assumption we hold of the probability of the outcome, be it negative or positive. Whether we’re proven right or wrong, in that moment, we lose mindfulness and instead assume a disposition relative to a preempted outcome. It’s for this same reason that we sometimes get hit from out of the blue when something is going so well, but without warning, turns sour. At other times, something that we expect to turn out badly goes really well. In both instances, the hints at how things are going may be so subtle that unless we’re open to observing them, they’re easily missed.

    The reality is, we’re human. Our emotional make up is more complex than we could possibly imagine which is why we’re each so unique, even when we try to mimic others. There is always something that sets us apart, sometimes in ways that we like, but often in ways that we don’t. Hence the masses that incline towards fandom rather than defining their own unique path.

    The trick therefore is to find the balance between being mindful to the point of being mechanical, versus being emotionally responsive to the point of being irrational. When we recognise and accept our humanness, we’ll be less inclined towards feeling threatened and instead, we’ll find it easier to be accepting of the humanness of others. Developing a habit of reining ourselves in during those moments of dread or elation will allow us to savour the good moments and learn from the bad, without feeling whimsical or threatened in the process.

    In between all that a creative outlet is needed to allow for the freedom of expression that does not restrain us relative to the views or expectations of others, because if you look back at all you’ve just read, you’ll realise that everything is about how we are perceived or how we want to be perceived by others. That’s why it gets complicated. That’s why we search for soul mates and kindred spirits. Without them, we find ourselves slowly depleting our energy reserves without getting that boost of inspiration because we have a lack of safe spaces for free expression that defines us based on our convictions and desires, rather than on what we believe we are expected to do for others.

    Meditation or prayer is what gives us retrospective pause to realise where on that treadmill of life we find ourselves. Mindfulness is what reduces our need for such deliberate reflection. And sometimes, without realising it, we become distracted in our efforts to be mindful, while allowing moments of excitement, joy, or exasperation to escape us because we are too busy observing the individual components that make up that wholesome experience.

    Welcome to the pit of quick sand we often refer to as the human condition.

  • The Sound of Inevitability 

    The Sound of Inevitability 

    One of my favourite movie scenes is the one in The Matrix where the agent holds down Neo’s head as he has him pinned down to the railway tracks. With the sound of an oncoming train rumbling in the distance, the agent pulls Neo’s head up and says in the coldest, driest, and most deliberate tone, “Hear that Mr Anderson? That’s the sound of inevitability.” The rest is history. But that sound of inevitability always resonates with me.

    The endless jokes about the light at the end of the tunnel need no retelling. It’s not the light that is important, but rather the inevitable nature of the passing of every trial or tribulation that weighs us down. Too often we’re so distracted about the light and whether it is good or bad, that we forget to step out of the way if it’s bad, or embrace it if it’s good. Most end up just feeling overwhelmed, while others entirely miss the opportunity that presented itself because of the fears associated with the assumptions that they made before it even happened. A rare few embrace the light and work it to their advantage.

    That’s the obvious part. The not so obvious part is when we define what we believe is inevitable or needed. I’ve noticed in my own life how many times I’ve set out focusing on establishing some means to an end. That means, be it a car or a house, or some other tool intended for a specific purpose, usually had a huge effort associated with its acquisition. Let’s stick with the house for this example.

    It started out as a need to have a place of my own if I wished to get married and start my own family. Like everything in this world, everything needs maintenance, and so the cycles of maintenance started not long after I moved in. Along with the maintenance my creative side kicked in because I needed to at least get something out of the burden of maintaining the place, and suddenly maintenance turned into a renovation. Then the ego kicked in and soon the space was just too small to achieve what I wanted to achieve. Suddenly I couldn’t entertain as many people as I wanted, nor could I get a quiet space to contemplate the next renovation or upgrade to the house, or to just forget about the house and all its demands. In between, the marriage was neglected and the upkeep of the home became the pivotal point of the relationship. Making ends meet became the focus, and suddenly the tool that was intended to enhance our lives and create a space for us to grow together became a shared burden instead, and created a tension that eventually eroded the very foundation that the house was built on.

    This is one simple and often relatable cycle that we go through. The inevitability of the outcome was entirely defined by our actions and decisions, or more accurately, our shifting priorities as we placed material gains ahead of what was initially important. None of that mattered though, because the moment it became contentious, it was no longer about finding a path back to what our starting point was, but instead it became a struggle for significance. Whose needs were taken care of and who was making more compromises. That’s all that mattered.

    Stepping back and taking stock requires more than just an arrest of the ego. It requires a desire to return to a point of sincerity and authenticity in our lives when we were filled with hope about the future, after finding ourselves filled with a longing for the past instead. Arresting the ego becomes easier if we believe that what we stand to gain is more valuable than having to swallow our pride. Swallowing our pride only becomes palatable if we recognise one or both of the following. Holding on to it will turn us into someone that we do not wish to become, because our self worth is more important than the value that others place on us. Or, swallowing our pride holds little risk of ridicule or reminders amongst those that we hold with significance in our hearts.

    While the former is substantially more difficult to achieve because it requires a level of self knowledge and mindfulness that escapes most of us, it is the shortest path to retaining some level of sanity in our lives. The latter, however, as wholesome and embracing as it sounds, means that an important part of who we are is still shaped by how we are accepted by others.

    Not realising the difference or the gravity of either will result in much stress and strife, as we find ourselves hamstrung between what we want for ourselves, versus what others want from us. And that’s an important distinction. Realising that even though others indicate that they want the best for us, their perspectives are often tainted by what their association with us means for them. This realisation has caused me to pause and reflect more than any other realisation in a very long time. Not only does it provide insights into my responses to the expectations of others, but more importantly it provides key insights into my expectations of those around me, including my daughters.

    Inevitability is often a cacophony of silent screams that we feel, but rarely hear. It’s only in the most quiet moments of reflection that it dares to surface and whisper a chilling note that shakes us from our deluded or distracted state, so that we might have yet another chance to course-correct as we trundle down the tracks leading into that tunnel with the inviting bright lights. Inevitability is only guaranteed in one single outcome, that is the final end of your current life. Everything else only remains inevitable as long as we choose to remain stagnant when we should be taking action instead.

  • The Iceberg Effect

    Resilience is obstinacy in the face of adversity. It relates to our ability to resist being overwhelmed even when we face the storm alone. Facing storms alone is so much more fun anyway. It tests our limits of perseverance in ways that reveal our true strength, or at least it hints at what we are truly capable of. That wouldn’t be possible if we always had someone by our side to face the storms, because then, we’ll grow to learn how much we can bear if only we have someone to bear it with.

    We go through life chipping away at icebergs but assume that we’re carving snowmen instead. Each effort is intended to yield a specific and immediate result. Those of us that have progressed beyond our formative years realise that reality has struck no such bargain with us, so we strive a little more after each setback, knowing that success often hides behind a few setbacks, or more accurately, failures. So we give it a try, and another, and another, until eventually we give up in the belief that our energies will be better expended elsewhere.

    Giving up though, is rarely that simple. If the goal we courted was important to us in ways that would define our happiness, giving up becomes a bitter pill to swallow. But in the face of inevitable failure, we assume that it’s the only option to save our dignity. That’s when we convince ourselves that we’re building snowmen, rather than chipping away at icebergs.

    The iceberg analogy has been used to describe many positive and negative aspects about life. Quite popular in the meme culture of late is the use of the iceberg to demonstrate the pinnacle of success rising above the water, while a huge amount of effort, perseverance, and some failure rests beneath the surface that no one seems to recognise. It is not an untrue analogy either, but there is a different perspective that I believe is equally important, if not more so.

    Think of the iceberg as a problem you’re facing, but not just above or below the surface. Instead, the iceberg in its entirety represents the challenges we face in life. Now consider what happens to the bottom of the iceberg as we chip away at what we can see on the surface. Each time we shave away the top, the bottom rises a little more making it seem as if the top is never-ending. So we keep ridding ourselves of the surface layer hoping that nothing more will rise in its place, only to be presented with more each time, until eventually we grow despondent and stop chipping away.

    What we fail to recognise in that process of chipping away is that each time the top was removed, even if only a little, it made way for the underlying issues to surface, and each time the underlying issues surfaced, it reduced the weight of what was beneath the surface, out of sight, until eventually so little (if any) remained, that it made the iceberg irrelevant. What once was an iceberg suddenly becomes an ice cube.

    Being able to chip away at that iceberg would also be so much easier if we just moved it to warmer oceans instead of remaining anchored in the icy waters that sustained its creation to begin with. And that, simplistically, is how life presents its challenges to us.

    The ocean is the environment we find ourselves in, each environment having its own share of toxicity or benefit depending on what we need to take from it. Remain in the surrounds that gave rise to our problems, and our problems will continue to grow larger than we ever will be, constantly overwhelming us and convincing us that trying to prevail is futile. Change environments and suddenly our perspectives are refreshed and solutions become easier. It reminds me of the prophetic analogy of the blacksmith and the perfume merchant. Spending your day with the blacksmith will never leave you perfumed.

    Accepting our state may result in us finding comfort in the cold desolation of the confined spaces of the top of the iceberg. For some, a confined space is much more comforting  than the horror of having to venture beyond their comfort zone. In their case, icebergs are great, and so is being rooted to the spot. Unfortunately they hold others back because of the company they need on that iceberg. They become masters at making snowmen, as long as that snowman is on their iceberg.

    I often wonder how many times did I stop chipping away at some of the icebergs in my life just as the final layers may have been surfacing before I gave up and moved on to new icebergs? It’s a question that could easily test our sanity, because we rarely find out in this lifetime when giving up was the wrong thing to do. The only comfort that I find in such deliberations is in knowing that my choices to leave, to abandon, or to simply stop caring about some icebergs was a conscious choice relative to what I was willing to tolerate at that point in my life. Where I realised later that I may have given up too soon, I accepted that I would have done no differently no matter how many times I could relive that moment, because the sum total of my life’s experiences, my emotional maturity, and my awareness of what was taking place would always be the same. The only thing I could do was recognise what it was that detracted from my decision being more informed, and be sure not to overlook that aspect again in future. I think that’s how icebergs melt without us having to chip as much.

    Remaining in toxic settings, or relationships, while chipping away is often an unnecessary test of our resilience. What doesn’t kill us does not make us stronger, it only makes us more brittle. Eventually, we’ll discard opportunities that promise beauty while holding on to the remnants of what may have been simply because we focused on the iceberg, instead of the ocean.

    [This is an incomplete thought process that has plagued my mind for weeks now. Hopefully this partial expression will lead to the clarity that escapes me at this time.]

  • Taking Care of Me 

    In a self indulgent world, distortions of reality threaten to taint the essentials that hold our sanity together. The essentials are so much more difficult to recognise these days. This binary lifestyle that we’ve perpetuated for so long now insists that if we take care of ourselves, it must be to the exclusion of taking care of others. Even though I believe there to be truth in that, making such a statement seems like an unfair projection of my gripes on the world.

    Setting out on some open road therapy this week, hints of guilt trailed closely behind me. My focus having increasingly shifted to servitude over the years, self indulgence suddenly felt wrong, or blameworthy. Taking time to collect my thoughts, clear the fuzz, and regain my sense of purpose offered the only hope of holding on to what defines my unique contribution to this world.

    Self-censure has been rife in recent times. Sometimes because of the futility of expression to an oblivious crowd, but more often because of the taunting accuracy of predictable outcomes. Hope flirts on the edges of such trends and promises a break in the cycle, but that break is never self-realising. It takes an active contribution or effort to break a cycle.

    It’s like the waves that I see breaking over each other. Those washing up against the shore full of energy and motivation to reach the land as they crash and subdue the residual of the ones that went before. The ones that went before spread out lazily on the beach, aerated and foaming with delight at their achievements, then losing momentum from the complacency of their arrival only to recede in order to make way for the next wave of enthusiasm. And each time I saw this cycle repeat itself I was reminded of the lapping ripples of the Mediterranean off the island of Kerkennah. Peaceful and uninspiring, but so easily disrupted. A thrashing run through the waves I saw before me now would leave no trace even before my feet would reach the sand beneath it, while a casual stomp through the ripples on that island would see my footprints left in the sand beneath the water. Even if only for a while before the complacent lapping erased its presence while restoring the order of the ages.

    Life plays out in the cycles we disrupt every day. Without a critical mass of support, we’re no more than a bad wind drifting out to sea. Sometimes we impose ourselves as rocks of confidence and guidance as we watch the waves shape around us. But there are too few rocks and too many waves. Being such a lighthouse of fortitude can be taxing, but only as long as we expect the waves to stop pounding and instead to become ripples that caress our foothold.

    Abstracts aside, taking care of me threatens to become a central theme in my life if I lose focus as to why being me is important. It’s not important because of a need to prevail. It’s important because I provide, or at least seek to provide a counter balance to the insanity I see crashing down around me. The moment I stop serving a purpose larger than me, and I start serving me only, I add to that stench that I so revile.

    Taking care of me becomes more difficult as my awareness grows of what plays out around me. It’s easy to dismiss my contribution towards those that are obstinate in their distraction or defeatism, because I can easily justify it by focusing on the quick-wins instead. The ones that are hungry for change, for advice, for support, and so much more. But I’m always faced with the blunt truth when I shy away from the tough ones. Am I turning away to preserve my ego, or am I turning away because my time would really be better invested in one that will embrace my contribution? In fact, isn’t there a threat of ego-preservation in that as well?

    Egos, expectations, trust, and betrayal. It’s all part of how we express our happiness or dismay at the world. None of us are immune to its ill effects so be sure never to trust one that claims to have risen above it. The challenge is in being able to reflect and recognise the influences that each have on our choices. If we do, we stand a chance of living purposefully, rather than defensively. Without an ego, a leader will not step up to lead the masses out of a sorry state, and without expectations, followers will not look to leaders for guidance. Everything has its place. It’s when we allow it out of its place and let it prevail where it shouldn’t, that is when we lose sight of ourselves, and taking care of me suddenly becomes denying the rights of others in favour of me.

    We all need some self-indulgence sometime. Even for the one that has it all. When you find yourself awkward in your own company without any distractions or company to keep you occupied, when your thoughts scratch the insides of your skull or gnaw at your rib cage, and your instinctive response is to get busy with something, anything…when that is the state you find yourself in, know with certainty that you have not taken care of yourself. You have only distracted yourself from the reality you wish to avoid.

    [Another incomplete thought process to add to the collection.]

  • Final Moments

    cropped-cropped-cropped-cropped-tumblr_mu79gcdgio1qeoyseo4_128013.jpgI’ve always believed that if we were to live a long and painful life, and in the end, in our last few moments, we experienced the absolute serenity and completeness of everything we sought to experience or achieve in our lifetime, the entirety of the pain and struggles of our lives would be easily forgotten. It would still feel like a complete and beautiful life, because the intensity of the struggles before that point would directly inform the intensity of gratitude and peace we would feel when experiencing it. But only if we live in the present moment. Otherwise we’ll lose that beautiful moment cursing at its late arrival while still yearning for the past to have been different.

    Zaid Ismail

  • Perfectly Distracted 

    There was a time when I judged the character of others by the number of times they would use terms like existential, nihilism, fatalism, and the like. Often, the words of Einstein echoes in my head reminding me that if I can’t explain it simply enough, it’s because I don’t understand it well enough. And that’s how I viewed those pretentious ones that used large words to explain simple concepts of hope, struggle, or despair.

    One of my challenges in life has been my inability to articulate my thoughts in ways that made it relatable to others. From a young age I was recognised as the kid on a different wavelength. I was the one the bullies generally ignored because my response was unpredictable, while they picked on the ones that were somewhat ordinary, because ordinary, for all its merits, is predictable.

    Without any fanfare or deliberate effort, I found myself trying to polish my grasp of the English language so that my thoughts would tumble out of my mouth or keyboard with at least a vague similarity to what was going on in my head. The more coherent I sounded, the more confident I grew, and seemingly, the more I found that people were willing to interact with me. I guess people generally do avoid the unpredictable or misunderstood.

    The buoyancy I felt from these simple little milestones of inclusion pushed me to hone my skills further. My innate need to simplify a complicated life contributed to this by driving me towards reducing the effort needed to achieve simple outcomes. After all, why do in ten steps what can be done in two? It would be such a waste of energy to continue the ten step way.

    Equally so, I found myself growing more succinct, or as some would assume, terse in the way in which I expressed myself. To me, I was improving my skill for clear communication without being flowery or longwinded about it, but for everyone else, I was cocky and presumptuous because I apparently didn’t have the patience to work through things with them or explain myself properly. What I saw as saving them the monotony of a longwinded explanation, they saw as an arrogance on my part for assuming that they’re not worthy of such an explanation. Or worse, they assumed that I found joy in making them look stupid.

    And that’s how I’ve found efforts at effective communication can become defective communication. An innocent assumption on my part which suggested that others had a similar level of understanding or appreciation of the topic at hand, meant that I didn’t see my knowledge as superior. However, that was automatically misconstrued by others as me being arrogant and aloof. Of course, every assumption we make, correct or incorrect, is a reflection of how we view ourselves relative to what is going on around us, but that was hardly an effective point to make in such a situation. Although I did make it from time to time, depending on how keen I was to annoy the audience I was with.

    The point is, it’s easy to be distracted by our pursuit of perfection in any field that we’re passionate about, to the point where the purpose of the pursuit is forgotten, and all that remains is our sights on perfection. Most often, we seek to perfect in order to be more effective at achieving something, but along the way we become distracted by how our perfection is perceived and lose sight of what we set out to achieve in the first place.

    When that happens, perfectionism takes centre stage and purpose or meaning becomes a secondary consideration. I think it’s possible to achieve perfection relative to purpose, although true perfection is unattainable. There is merit and virtue in pursuing perfection, but both are undermined when the purpose or value of such efforts are discarded in favour of being perceived as perfect in that regard. Our efforts, if left unchecked, will result in us allowing our proficiency of practice at what we’re pursuing to define us, rather than remembering that our proficiency was intended to enable us to define something else in a more valuable way.

    Life is lost in moments of distraction, but we grow distracted in moments of pursuing a better life. Being surrounded by a social standard grounded in escapism doesn’t help either. And labeling people that use big words without appreciating why they choose to communicate the way they do reflects a superficiality and insecurity on our part, more than it does on theirs.