Tag: purpose

  • The Desire For Excellence

    Achieving a state of excellence in at least one sphere of our lives, I believe, is a universal yearning. It allows us to leave our mark or establish a legacy so that we may believe that we won’t be easily forgotten when we’re gone. It also feeds a need to constantly improve where we’re at in life. Aspiring to a new level of achievement in at least one sphere in which we believe we have a unique talent often gives us reason to face a new day.

    Some start out in search of fame and focus their efforts on doing what they believe will be admired by others. So focused are they on what their intended audience wants, that they easily forget where their passion lies. The old adage of not going out in search of your love, but instead doing what you love and letting your love find you echoes through the air. But again, we’re so lacking in self-worth that unless there is visible acknowledgement and appreciation for what we do, we often abandon important pursuits because we thought no one cared.

    The pursuit of excellence cannot be relative to the whims or dictates of others. It has to be more sincere than that. The conviction to achieve that excellence must be grounded in a heartfelt passion to improve the state of something that you personally experienced and wish to improve for others. If such a pursuit is directed at an outcome that benefits only you, you will be left wanting when you’ve achieved it, only to lament the time wasted in getting to a point that promised fulfilment but instead only fed your ego.

    The ego. We keep getting back to that thing that robs us of so much. What could be wholesome is often discarded if we don’t see a benefit in it for us. Worse than this, we sometimes discard efforts simply because it may benefit someone that we believe is undeserving of such benefit. When we do this, we need to realise that it’s not excellence that we pursuit, but gratification.

    Gratification is the outcome of a pursuit, not the purpose. Like I mentioned before about humility and happiness being an outcome of something else, so is gratification. The moment we enter a cycle looking to get something out, we lose sight of our true potential to contribute towards something that is larger than ourselves. Live with conviction, and ensure that your conviction is well-informed, and you’ll find that every outcome, no matter how insignificant it may seem, will leave a legacy of benefit for everyone that came into contact with you during your lifetime.

    We all desire excellence, and to be associated with excellence, but we’re often too distracted to notice how our chosen path detracts from that excellence that we desire. We must be willing to contribute selflessly towards the outcome of something that won’t benefit us directly before we can hope to benefit indirectly from the fruits of such an effort. The irony is that we lose both when we start out with a selfish end in mind.

    The moment we demand to be served with excellence, a moment’s reflection on the motivation of the one that serves us will reveal that they do so out of obligation or perhaps even fear. That leaves empty the need for significance as a human being. It only fulfils the desire for authority or the imposition of our will. But imposing our will on others is never fulfilling because we know that without such authority or power, we will be neglected or discarded because the value of our contribution will be insignificant. For this reason, among many others, the need for acceptance and appreciation as a human being, independent of any authority or political influence that we may yield, has driven many to do dastardly deeds in moments when they gave up hope of being appreciated simply for who they are.

    The desire for excellence has to begin with the desire to perfect our contribution to this world. If it is tied to a clearly envisioned higher purpose, it makes it that much more powerful. However, many struggle to see their contribution as relevant within a context beyond their immediate lives. If this is true for you, then start by ensuring that you do not leave anyone or anything in a state worse than what it or they were before you touched them. Excellence is the habit that prompts us towards the elusive goal of perfection. It’s the pursuit of it that inspires us to be more, while its attainment (if indeed it can be attained) makes us complacent.

    Seek to ensure that whatever you touch, or whoever’s lives you impact, you leave it in a better state than it was before you got there. And if you are unable to do so, then at least do not incur harm instead.

  • Unconditional Love

    To live life romantically is such a beautiful notion. You see the world for all that it offers and politely ignore all that it is. The lover professes unconditional love for their beloved, yet so often such undying love ends in heartache. Was it unconditional, or was it one-sided? I once heard that the one who loves less controls the relationship. I think that is mostly true.

    Unconditional. That’s a huge claim to make. Unsurprisingly I decided to test its veracity by observing those around me who often profess to uphold this claim of unconditional this and that. Love, for starters, is grossly misunderstood and overrated by most people. Obsession, infatuation, or lust (or all three) are usually at play long before love even enters the picture. Having said that, I believe that unconditional love is real. However, it probably doesn’t take the form that most assume it to be and probably shouldn’t be called love to begin with. I think commitment and sincerity are more attuned to reality than the vagueness of love.

    Too many confuse love with acceptance, and far too often that acceptance is based on the fear of rejection. We accept untoward behaviour or allow people to take us for granted under the guise of loving them unconditionally, while the truth is closer to the fact that we are usually fearful of not finding something better if we reject such treatment. Being alone is infinitely more scary to most people, more scary than dealing with an abusive or unfulfilling relationship. Having someone, to many, is better than having no one, even if that someone holds them back from being who they are capable of being. Yet they stay in such relationships believing that it’s unconditional love, more because they’re hoping to receive unconditional love in return.

    But here’s the rub. When we hope to receive unconditional love by making such sacrifices of our own peace and sanity, it implies that we have yet to unconditionally love ourselves. In the absence of that self-acceptance, we look for others to accept us first so that we can convince ourselves that we are worth the investment of love and life. We therefore fool ourselves into believing that unhealthy relationships must be endured simply because we would expect others to do the same for us if we were the unhealthy contributors to a relationship. The irony is that we are such contributors when we settle for less.

    That’s all fairly obvious for those not in denial, but it still doesn’t quite define what unconditional love really is. For me, unconditional love is not being infinitely tolerant, but instead, it is about being intolerant of anything less than what you know the person you love is capable of achieving. Apply this in a parenting scenario, or a marriage, or a romantic liaison, and you’ll see how it holds true. If you love someone, you won’t allow them to do something that you know is going to harm them, or cause an oppression against others. The moment you tolerate such behaviour from them, you prove that your love for yourself is greater than your love for them because being unpopular erodes the self-worth of the fickle.

    Stated differently, what is usually considered to be tough love is only possible from those that are confident that the acceptance or rejection of others does not define who they are, or how they see themselves. You have to be accepting of yourself as a whole person within the context of a relationship before you will be willing to push for a correction or adjustment in behaviour from the person you’re with. However, it also means that in accepting ourselves, or others, we need to recognise the weaknesses or bad habits that detract from our wholesomeness as a human being, coupled with the resolve to work at improving it. The same must be true for how we view others if we are to profess that we love them.

    It cannot be love if we enable destructive behaviour. Perhaps that needs to be rephrased. It is not love for the other that enables destructive behaviour, but a lack of love for the self that allows it to continue unchallenged. When we subject ourselves to abusive relationships, we fool ourselves into believing that if we wish to be accepted, then we need to be more accepting of others. That’s far too idealistic to be healthy. The reality is closer to having a clear conviction about what we stand for before we agree to stand for everything.

    More importantly, if our greatest fear is how we will be perceived if or when we object to something, then again, we are more concerned about ourselves than we are about making others feel judged. It feels like I’m over complicating a really simple issue. so here’s a final take on this.

    You need to know what you stand for before you can be accepting of others. If you don’t, you are not accepting, you are assimilating because of a need for inclusion. That fear of rejection or isolation is grounded in the fact that you judge yourself harshly, and have a lack of conviction in improving those traits of yours that you would rather others don’t see. To deflect attention away from such weaknesses, you embrace others without question so that you don’t give others reason to question what you’re about.

    We see this playing out in parenting all the time. Parents that won’t accept that their children are wrong or downright abusive because such acceptance confirms that they may have failed as parents. Women and even men remain in emotionally and physically abusive relationships because they’re afraid that no one else will accept the distasteful view they have of themselves, while trying to convince the world that they are only holding on because they truly believe that their partner is a good person behind all that anger, or insecurity. Or worse, they remain in the relationship because of the children that they don’t want must be raised in a broken home, not realising that they’re effectively teaching their children that it’s more important to grin and bear it than it is to stand up and do the right thing.

    We project our insecurities on those around us, and then over compensate for theirs in order to ensure that ours are not discovered. Then we wrap it up as unconditional love because that is more palatable as a concept for us, and is found to be more endearing for those from whom we seek acceptance. We do this while forgetting that unconditional love is being willing to point out what’s wrong so that we can work on making things right, rather than suffering the wrong because we don’t want to offend or be seen as unpopular. Unconditional love is what drives us to demand nothing less than what we believe is possible from those we care about, because the only time we can claim to truly love them is when we want for them what we want for ourselves. If we desire less for ourselves, then we seek to live vicariously through them instead, which once again confirms that our love, as unhealthy as it may be, is in fact for ourselves more than it is for others.

     

  • Escape From Your Escape

    There’s a story in me that needs to be shared. That need is mine, not anyone else’s. In the years leading up to this point in my life I’ve spent many moments contemplating whether or not it was a story worth sharing. What I failed to notice is that such contemplation reflected a concern for how it was to be received, rather than what needed to be told. I was distracted, and my cycles of distraction were often, and still are, nurtured by legitimate demands for my time elsewhere.

    Avoiding the write has been easy. I still have a morbid chuckle internally when I recall one of the reasons for which my proposal for marriage was declined. I was told that I’m apparently too responsible. Be that as it may, it seems that those with less responsibility are supposedly more inclined to be more responsible towards others. They walk among us. Back to the point at hand, such levels of responsibility provide me with an infinite source of reasons, not excuses, not to pursue the more daunting goals of my life. Prioritising where to expend my limited energy resources has become a fine art. My next area of focus is how to execute on those beautifully informed decisions of prioritisation. I hope to get to it as soon as I’m done doing this other thing that is so important.

    The cycle gets quite entertaining at times. Along with entertainment comes the need to snack. So the binge snacking to accompany such entertaining cycles causes my mid-drift to drift more than it should. And so a new cycle of restraint is spawned, often with little success. The upside is that it creates the perfect opportunity to get a cardio workout simply by kneeling down to cut some wood. I’ve never broken into such a profuse sweat in such a short time before. I’m not sure if that means I’m getting better or worse at it because perspiration is supposed to be a healthy thing, along with a good cardio workout, not so?

    Cynicism aside (as if that’s even possible) the cycle of responsibility is not always a healthy one. In my case, it has proven to shore up my procrastination in important things (like writing that book) because there are always urgent things that justifiably distract me from what I should be doing instead. Worse than this, I’ve found myself having to consciously re-focus on what needs to be done when faced with trying circumstances, or frustrating relationships. This is a new experience for me because it was second nature until recently. I think it suggests that my de-personalization disorder must be fading. Disorder my ass.

    I’ve started choosing differently from before. What used to drive me is not as persuasive for my investment of energy these days. I’m more inclined to recede from ridiculousness than to dive in to salvage what little sanity might exist. There was a time when I defended sanity without question regardless of the potential fulfilment from the outcome. Is this what it feels like to get old? I wouldn’t know, because I’m not old, I’m just well-worn.

    The joy of having much life in your years is that you get to laugh at yourself more while others are still following a predefined schedule on how to live their lives, all the while thinking that they own it. Distractions can be fun, and immensely rewarding if a prominent mid-drift is anything to go by. However, along with such indulgence comes a need to reconsider what is or is not negotiable in my life. One thing I still refuse to do is act my age relative to the stereotypes propped up by society. I also refuse to buy a bigger pants size just because my current one is getting too tight from all the fulfilling entertainment I need alongside my responsibilities. And I also refuse to outsource everything that can be outsourced because even though mending things around the house, or building stuff is a distraction from what I should be doing instead, it is also an important part of my self-reflection, my self-worth, and my contribution in kind, not just in cash, to those around me.

    Outsourcing is the ultimate distraction. It’s also a very effective vicious cycle. For me, it goes something like this. I do my own stuff and get my hands dirty because I enjoy what I do. That enjoyment attracts the passion of others that have a similar interest, and in the workplace, this means more opportunities and in turn (sometimes) improved remuneration. That improved remuneration improves my quality of life and the quality of life of those around me. This is a bonus because suddenly the perceived value of my contribution is greater than it was before. However, an improved quality of life requires an improved level of maintenance, and so what I did before to get to this point may have been driven out of passion, but what I need to do to maintain this circumstance is now driven out of necessity. Necessity and passion rarely go together, especially when necessity becomes a matter of obligation rather than choice. Passion is driven by choice, not compulsion.

    So the necessities cram up, resulting in less time to do the passionate stuff, resulting in some of that newly earned remuneration to be expended on the necessities that were spawned from the passion that was driven by nothing more than a desire to contribute. Suddenly I miss the simplicity of being able to do without compulsion, and to contribute without expectation. But back to that escape. There appears to be an innate sense that when we’ve struggled against the odds to achieve a moment of gratitude, we deserve an indulgence to make it worthwhile. I’m starting to wonder if that subsequent indulgence is in fact ingratitude for the moment of gratitude that we just achieved. Should that moment of gratitude not be sufficient reward itself?

    I know there’s a point in here somewhere. It seems elusive but I think it has to do with recognising when our deliberate efforts and conscious decisions spawn a cycle of their own, which is grounded in a beginning that was based on conscious choice and therefore suggests to us that anything that we do as a result of that cycle must by definition be a conscious choice and not a distraction. It’s like doing something for so long that eventually you stop questioning why it needs to be done and just accept it as a necessity. That’s when mindfulness gives way for habits or rituals that get respected for their cultural value rather than for the value that they offer.

    Quality of life is a difficult concept to quantify. Is my life of a greater quality because I live with purpose, or is there quality in the moments of indulgence that were spawned without specific purpose? Is it a combination of the two? Probably, but here’s the rub. The moment I start contemplating it, it loses its spontaneity which erodes the passion, and subsequently takes on a burdensome aura which inherently detracts from what could be argued to be a good quality of life. This is tiring.

    To escape from the escape we thought we deserved, requires a recognition of the fact that what we’re escaping from was in fact ensnaring us in the first place. A spontaneous celebration of life must remain a spontaneous celebration of life. The moment we hold an expectation that each major milestone warrants an indulgence, the indulgence becomes an entitled reward which taints our commitment to the greater goals because suddenly the absence of a substantial reward dulls the appeal of the goal itself. And along with it, the passion with which we once lived our lives.

    [I’m still convinced that there is a point in there somewhere…as soon as I find it, I shall celebrate it…]

  • The Best In Me

    I’ve found, and recent experiences have confirmed this to be true as well, that in order to see the true nature of someone, you should demand the best from them. Demand that they be all that you know they have the capacity to be, and you’ll see the conviction or betrayal rise to the surface, often viciously so.

    I’ve been quite distracted recently. That distraction has in many ways confirmed why I sway between wanting to share my thoughts, or write that book, and not wanting to have any part in interacting with people at all. I quietly observe the hypocrisy of so many that polarise towards those that pacify them about their shortcomings, their bad decisions, or their half-hearted efforts to live life while waiting for someone else to come along and contribute the other half. They do this under the guise of compassion and understanding. Both, the pacifier and the pacified. The dishonesty of it all leaves a distinctly bitter after-taste almost literally in my mouth.

    I’ve always found it to be insincere on my part if I agreed with someone that was looking for affirmation about doing something that was either denying them or someone else of a right or benefit that they were capable of providing. It’s as if we live life assuming everything to be optional first, and then only define what is compulsory or obligatory on our part relative to what we believe is a reasonable expectation that others are allowed to have of us. This also implies that we view ourselves through the same tainted lenses. In other words, rights are not rights until we agree that it is so, and then also, only if there is a reciprocal arrangement in place. What’s in it for me has become the mantra of the selfish and the weak.

    Yet the world apparently thrives on it. Far too often I listen to people repeating leadership advice that says that to be influential you must be sure to emphasise what is in it for your target audience otherwise your chances of soliciting their buy-in is significantly reduced. While that may be the reality of it, it also suggests that you become complicit in the cycle of selfishness. I’m obstinate enough to believe that shared convictions are more important than what’s in it for me as a collective perspective. I guess you could also argue that the fact that something is achieved implies that there was conviction behind it to begin with. While that may be true, it doesn’t necessarily imply that such conviction was well-placed.

    If my conviction is focused on self-preservation or self-promotion, then I would act with a conviction that inadvertently erodes the wholesomeness of the society that I belong to. When that selfishness comes full circle and I become a means to an end for someone else from that same societal structure, I complain bitterly about the decay of humanity, forgetting too easily how it is that the same impact I imposed on others left them feeling equally defeated. It seems that such bitter pills are what prompts many to consider the impact that they have on others, because it’s only in moments of defeat or humiliation that we are forced to recognise our weaknesses. Unless you’re so bitter about life that your fixation on the betrayals of others prevents you from seeing your contribution to your current state. Such bitterness always ends in a diseased body and mind, which leads to an untimely and often very unpleasant demise.

    Obstinacy with conviction is what is lacking in this world. I would much rather be surrounded by those that disagree with me because of a genuine sense of conviction in what they hold to be true, rather than to be surrounded by people that agree with me because their affiliation with me benefits their own selfish purposes. I can barely recall anyone demanding me to be more than I am because they saw potential or capability in me that I did not recognise in myself. Fortunately I’ve had little reason to wait for such encouragement although I did find myself wasting a lot of life waiting for others to  catch up. In a way, that has been the most wasteful approach of my life.

    Waiting for others to believe in you implies that you lack conviction in what you see in yourself. While there is merit in testing the veracity of your assumptions and perspectives by sounding it against others, if we’re not careful about what we’re testing for, there’s a good chance that we’ll abandon something valuable because we were looking for the wrong response. Too many test for acceptance rather than soundness of purpose or conviction. We present ideas that have merit to small minds and then abandon those ideas because the value of it was not grasped. We shouldn’t be testing for acceptance or popularity. That is exactly what got this world into the state it is in. As clichéd as it sounds, being part of the crowd only ever maintained the status quo. It’s the individual, the maverick, the relentless pain-in-the-butt that spurs growth, and by implication, growth implies discomfort.

    We need to learn to be comfortable in growth. The only hindrance I can think of that prevents such comfort is the fear of failure. The fear of appearing incompetent in a new setting. That fear is grounded in our belief that others are always competent in what they appear to be doing, but often discover that they were not as competent as we assumed when we engage and apply our minds to the new reality that we were avoiding. It also implies that we assume we’re incompetent by default and therefore incapable of learning, until we find reason to believe that we have sufficient skill or knowledge to start exploring with a fair amount of confidence. Unfortunately we rarely start exploring because we’re waiting for that minimum amount of skill or knowledge to magically appear first, or for someone to believe in us before we try.

    The best of me always manifested in times of trial and intense betrayal when my crutches were snapped away, or my comforts were destroyed. Familiarity often appeared as healthy surrounds, but I only realized how unhealthy it was when I was forced to step outside of those familiar boundaries and became a spectator of my own life. It’s only when we achieve such perspective that we are faced with the daunting choice of whether to prevail, or to succumb. Beyond all this the greatest challenge I continue to face in my life is finding the balance between forging ahead in spite of the lack of conviction from others in what I am passionate about, while simultaneously avoiding the severing of ties. Forging ahead demands conviction and purposeful introspection to guide me, while maintaining ties prevents me from being reckless or ungrateful about the benefit and rights I share with those around me.

    Life is easier if lived in isolation, but it’s less fulfilling. It becomes an incomplete cycle because I believe that our innate nature drives us towards improving the lot of others. The more inclined we are to believe that we are capable of achieving that innate need, the healthier our self-worth, while the opposing belief drives us towards complacency, and self-defeat. The awkward truth is that more often than not people don’t know what they need to improve their current state, but they usually have a very good idea as to what someone else may need. Hence the benefit of perspective when our familiar surrounds are taken away. The point is, if we’re going to wait for others to agree to the change that is needed before we provoke it, we’ll spend a lot of time waiting, and very little time living.

    [My distracted state is evident in the randomness of this train of thought, if it can even qualify as a train!]

  • The Ebb and Flow of Harmony

    In every situation there is a provocateur and the provoked. I always fancied myself as the provocateur because more often than not, others lack the courage to disrupt because of the overwhelming need to be liked or celebrated. Popularity drives more actions than purpose ever will. Anyway, I’m sure most can relate to the setting where two strong characters clash because each is attempting to establish their view as being the dominant one. Sometimes this is understandable where both may have valid points around a contentious issue, but most often one is more right than the other, but ego prevents the other from backing down and accepting defeat. Perhaps defeat is too strong a term, because the reality is closer to accepting having learnt something new from someone we hoped would not be in a position to teach us something new because it implies that they knew more than us. Hence the ego kicking in.

    The same plays out constantly in relationships with significant others. I recently became aware of an awkward truth, or perhaps just an awkwardness that defines a large part of my life, and probably yours. Given that I am regularly drawn into contentious situations for reasons that are unimportant at this point, it was always easy for me to assume that it was someone else’s drama that I was compelled to resolve, or at least needed to resolve. While some of that may be true, I’m quite certain that it’s not always true despite what my ego may prompt me to believe. As I took a closer look I grew more aware of this phenomenon, and I’m convinced that in every relationship, and more accurately, in every scenario in every relationship there is one that sets the tone, and the other that harmonises that tone. As an example, if I arrive home in a flustered state after a long slog at the office and just want to be left alone, my wife could either insist that I give my family their dues and pay attention to their needs regardless of my preferences at that point, or she could create a space that doesn’t place those immediate demands on me, while also allowing for a distraction that defuses the tone that I set. In that case, I set the tone, and she harmonises it.

    The important thing I noticed around this is that both parties set the tone at different points, even though in some relationships one person assumes the dominant role more often, while the other is comfortable to constantly follow their lead and harmonise their lives around that tone that was set. The problem sets in when both want to set the tone, or both want to harmonise. That’s when egos are triggered, and demands for significance play out in cryptic ways that do everything but make plain the real issue at hand.

    The impact of both wanting to set the tone is fairly obvious, but not so for the situation where both wish to harmonise. I’ve found this to take place at times when the usually dominant one feels the fatigue of playing the lead role and suddenly steps back hoping to be led for a change. The other that was comfortable to follow and harmonise up to that point suddenly feels uncomfortable being forced into a lead role, thereby causing them to question their competence in that setting in the relationship. It also causes them to question the value of their contribution up to that point, leading to frayed tempers and subsequent upheaval.

    This may be a simplification of the dynamics that play out in relationships, be they personal or professional, but it’s a theme that is common and from what I’ve seen, consistent. If we assume that we only play one or the other, then we firstly undermine the contribution of the other, and secondly we grow oblivious to the true impact of our contribution to the relationship, both positive and negative.

    While it may be true that some are naturally inclined to take a leading role, I would hazard a guess that there is not a human being alive or dead that never had a need to be led, instead of always shouldering the burden of leading others. There is much comfort that can be obtained from learning and being led, but our egos often tend to prevent us from enjoying such benefits when we convince ourselves that we are expected to know everything or lead in everything. Chances are, those expectations are entirely self-imposed, even if others believe it to be true.

    Harmony is experienced when there is a mutual and willing contribution in equitable parts to a common aspirational goal. In the absence of mutuality, and more importantly willing subscription, the pursuit and the ultimate goal will always be lacking in sweetness. Perhaps this is why so many lead busy lives full of responsibility and activity while still feeling hollow and unfulfilled.

  • Giving Up

    I think we got it all wrong. I realised this when I considered the fact that it is impossible to die from holding in your own breath. We’re hardwired to survive, or at least to want to survive. Self-preservation has always been the driving force that created both good and evil outcomes in this world, so I find it increasingly curious to note that we get this wrong so often.

    There is an abundance of memes and motivational speakers telling us why we need to persevere. Hope in tomorrow makes the struggles of today worth it, but what happens when that hope does not materialise in a favourable outcome? Do we abandon hope, or do we question what we wanted in the first place?

    I paced around restlessly this weekend quietly observing these thoughts flit through my mind as I saw the reality of it echoed in those around me. Expectations contaminating and embellishing everything while most interpret it so differently. Rights and privileges. Who determines when they’re legitimate and when they’re not? Does a right become self-indulgent when we expect it to be fulfilled, and do we automatically erode the rights of others when we live with such apparently justifiable expectations? The rabbit-hole seemed endless.

    Quite unexpectedly, it dawned on me. Life is about giving up, not about holding on. Knowing what to give up has proven to be infinitely more important in establishing sanity in my life than holding on to dreams or expectations, or insisting on the fulfilment of my rights for that matter. I did not give up on my dreams. No. That is still firmly intact. But it has changed in shape and form consistently over the course of my life.

    I often noticed how my dreams or aspirations were informed by the celebrations of others. That which they celebrated as being significant became my aspirations. I wanted to share their sense of elation, or their sense of belonging, because I didn’t have a definition of my own for that. As time passed, I slowly realised how hollow life is when I followed the crowd, or worse still, when I adopted the goals of others as my own.

    This always created a lot of conflict within me because my base definition of life appears to be quite at odds with those around me. Or so I thought. However, what I have grown to realise is that most are distracted enough to only subscribe to the collective perceptions of success because they have so little knowledge of themselves. That’s the root of it right there. Self-knowledge is a prerequisite for balance, and balance does not always lead to peace. Harmony can be established from such balance, but peace is something considerably more elusive.

    Giving up on failed expectations holds more value than holding on to them at all costs. If the dreams of our lives remain consistent throughout our lives, then I would call into question whether we’ve grown as human beings or not. My views of the world at age 20 cannot be the same as my views of the world at age 30, or even 40. If it is, it suggests a wasted life. It suggests a holding on to past dictates and expectations without an appreciation for the ever transitioning landscape of life that continuously offers new opportunities and beauty with every fresh breath we take, if only we opened our eyes to it all.

    Not every breath is a fresh breath. More often than not we inhale to sustain rather than to live. This becomes ingrained as the only way to live because we’ve celebrated perseverance in such unhealthy ways. We hold on to bad relationships, detrimental mindsets, and toxic environments all the while hoping that our perseverance will pay off, but neglecting to notice how much we’ve discarded of ourselves in the process.

    The courage to give up on what is not good for us is often thwarted by the need to be right. Giving up is a tacit acknowledgement that we got it wrong, but because our egos are so focused on how we’re perceived by others, we would rather stubbornly persevere than to be perceived as a failure because we know that the likelihood of being celebrated as a martyr is significantly higher than the likelihood of being celebrated for being sensible. And we all want to be celebrated.

    That breath we take from fear never reaches the corners of our soul that needs its nourishment more than anything else. Slowly those corners become hardened and dry, eventually decaying and becoming cancerous, as we hide it from the world, but unleash its aggression in moments of intense disappointment or betrayal. We neglect our own nurturing because too often we believe our worth is only equal to the value that others place on it. We fail to see how the ‘others’ are equally contaminated in their self-worth and therefore subscribe to a view that is inherently toxic, while adopting it as a definition of our aspirations in life.

    Giving up on the appeasement of others in the face of conflict with my convictions has left me alone at times, but rarely has it left me sleepless. Seeing the world for what it is becomes that much more difficult when I hold on to expectations and rights that have little probability of ever being fulfilled. The balance I strike therefore becomes a combination of creatively seeking to express myself in a way that fulfils the rights and expectations of those around me, while simultaneously offering me a space to breathe. Half a fresh breath is better than none at all.

    When we refuse to give up, we actually give in. When we refuse to give up, we ultimately abandon the core of who we are, and any purpose or beautiful contribution associated with it, in favour of a contaminated contribution aimed at the appeasement of those that define our self-worth, the net result of which is anything but fulfilling. But the hoards waiting to judge you for holding on to sanity instead of enslavement to their notions of reality will always be a distraction that pulls us away from the path of peace, and instead drags us into the mud-filled ruts that they have accepted as home.

  • Reverse Osmosis

    I’ve witnessed, often, how it is that two people start out being unique characters, but as time passes, they slowly merge into one, just with two bodies. At times this feeds the romantic notions of love where two become one, but at times it symbolises the surrender of one in favour of the other. Neither is bad, as long as it is a willing surrender rather than a surrender of hope.

    The debates about what to look for in a partner will forever remain unfinished, but the one thing that stands true regardless of the approach, is that the adoption by one of the other’s mannerisms or preferences is generally a good indicator as to who is the more dominant personality in the relationship. It also indicates who is more smitten with the other.

    I once heard that the one who loves less is the one who controls the relationship. At first I thought it was true, but I’m not so sure anymore. The depth of love, if measured on superficial expressions of endearment, will never reflect the impact on the wholesomeness of the relationship itself. Overt acts of commitment cannot be used as a yardstick either because it doesn’t divulge the motivation for such acts. But the point is not about being able to measure it, it’s about the net effect on each person involved in the relationship.

    The relationship where both partners are on the same level of emotional maturity, coupled with a similar level of self-esteem is extremely rare. Setting those rare cases aside, I look at the norm and notice a consistent trend. The relationships that last demonstrate a visible level of compromise, while those that don’t are usually considered a failure because of either or both partners being inflexible, or defining a limit of flexibility that they’re not willing to cross. It’s easy to view the inflexible ones as selfish, but that assumes that flexibility is always healthy. It’s not.

    Flexibility, like liberalism, can be unhealthy when you get to a point of compromising your core principles in favour of an ideal that you do not subscribe to. The repercussions of standing up for your principles may be so dire that you choose to begrudgingly compromise instead. As long as that compromise is a grudge compromise, it creates a tension that demands compromises in other areas as well. For example, if I were to compromise on something that I feel strongly about, it would automatically taint my interactions in other areas because my rose-coloured spectacles are suddenly opaque and no longer looking as romantic as they once did. The person at the core of the reason for my compromise suddenly symbolises my struggle rather than my happiness. So it stands to reason that any subsequent interactions that flirt with the core principle that I compromised will be strained or terse to avoid the core issue from blowing out of proportion.

    Reverse osmosis then sets in. Sometimes slowly, sometimes without you even realising it. In this case, the osmosis is the adoption by the stronger character of the traits of the weaker character in order for that crucial balance to be struck. Without that balance, the fidelity of the relationship falls into question. So the one more committed to the longer term outcomes may find themselves compromising more, while the one more smitten will probably see that as a token of love and assume that they’re on the right track to begin with. Such are the delusions of those that lack self-awareness.

    Life is about a set of difficult choices. The more polarised we are in our views relative to those around us, the greater the volume of difficult choices we find ourselves faced with. The less we compromise in our desire to hold on to our individuality, the more isolated we become. Isolation goes against the natural inclination of being human, and it’s in the face of such isolation that we bend and sway towards that that we otherwise would have shunned. That’s when reverse osmosis weakens us, but ironically tends to strengthen the social structure around us. However, a self-defeating social structure gives way to stronger ones. It’s like a cycle that plays out on different scales but with similar principles and outcomes.

    Consider the above within the context of the weaker character adopting the traits of the stronger one instead. Consider the social structures that are spawned from such osmosis and the impact that would have when it comes up against the weaker social structures. In that way we find the slow but decisive erosion of one cultural norm in favour of another. Similarly, the alteration of the culture and value system enshrined in a relationship morphs as we give way to needs in our moments of weakness, when the larger-than-life principles that we once stood for are abandoned to maintain the peace.

    Maintaining the peace has never been the true objective of such abandonment of ideals and principles. I think the true objective is closer to not having the capacity or the inclination to continue the good fight, because the bigger ideals that we thought we were serving for the greater good appear to be futile when the greater good abandons our efforts to serve it.

    [I started out writing this post to articulate my thoughts on how individuals regress in unhealthy relationships, but it seems my train of thought was significantly distracted. Perhaps I’ll attempt such a post at another time. This is therefore another addition to my pile of incomplete thought processes.]

  • Dystopia

    In those moments when purpose is blurred and distractions appeal, life passes by almost unnoticed. It feels like the hamster in the wheel, spinning away and amused at how fast it can go, then looking over and seeing everything that still needs to get done, stepping off for a few brief moments, and suddenly starts wondering what would make the wheel turn faster.

    The wheel that turns is not the wheel that moves us forward. It’s usually the wheel that runs us down and provides some relief from the illusion of stagnation. Or is it the illusion of progress. Ground hog day holds much truth in it, and I’ve often thought of life as being ground hog day. I see myself waking up each morning trying to do things better than I did it the day before. As the days accumulate so too does the list of things I try to do better. Each time I try something that feels new, it turns out to be mostly a combination of many things old. But the new experiences and feelings that accompany the effort provides the needed distraction to keep me interested.

    Trade in that wheel for a tail, or maybe a car, and suddenly I find myself chasing my tail while spinning that wheel in a more luxurious setting. Of course none of this makes any sense because if it did, it wouldn’t be dystopia, would it? Utopia doesn’t exist. We know this to be true, so it stands to reason that dystopia is reality, is it not? According to our friend Google, dystopia is an imagined place or state in which everything is unpleasant or bad, typically a totalitarian or environmentally degraded one. Let’s consider that to be true for a moment and see what it implies for our sanity.

    Everything is as bad or as good as we perceive it to be. We choose to either see the good in it, or we choose to see the bad. Those choices are informed by our experiences and how those experiences made us feel. The more inclined we are to believe that we are able to influence the outcomes, the more likely it is that we will perceive those things as good, and vice versa. But at the core of all this still lies the fact that what is, is, and what we see is what we impose of our perspectives on what is. Make sense yet?

    Let’s consider it slightly differently. We tend to view life in a polarised manner, almost binary in nature. Things are either good or bad. Nothing is ever neutral. More accurately, we never feel truly neutral about something because if prompted to choose between good or bad, we will choose either one. I don’t know of anyone that absolutely fights for their right to be neutral, nor am I certain that that is even possible.

    So back to our perceptions and how we impose that on the situation at hand. If someone argues that the world is turning into a hell hole, someone else could easily argue that there is hope, while another could argue that it’s in fact already a hell hole, while a fourth could argue that it was a hell hole at some point in history and that we’re already improving it as we progress. Every single one of these perspectives could be successfully defended, but by definition, not all could be correct. Unless we consider each within their own context,  in which case each will be equally true.

    So what’s the point? I think it has something to do with who decides what is good or what is bad. Then we look at who has the majority vote, and that prevails as the accepted standard. Anyone that opposes the standard is considered bad even if their perspective is inherently good, but that good cannot be measured as good because the standard against which it is being measured is bad, but is deemed to be good. And so it goes until eventually we realise that dystopia or utopia are simply makings of our own minds. The blue pill, or the red one? It doesn’t matter, does it?

    I don’t think it does. I think that the context that we choose for our perspectives will always define our reality. That reality will never be the true reality, because true reality can only ever be gauged independent of subjective observations, which means that any social standard or system of governance is based on the oppression of the minority and the celebration of normalcy. Therefore, even in upholding justice in such a system, given that justice would be defined against the social standards that have been adopted by the majority, then such justice could very well be injustice, but will not be recognised as such because the accepted authority has defined it to be good.

    This transcends even divine laws within the context of this lifetime because our judgement against the divine laws will only take place in a reality completely detached from this one. That day of reckoning will be independent of our influence, and therefore will be immune to our perceptions. It will simply be.

    Of course not everyone believes in the day of reckoning beyond this lifetime, in which case, if the above argument holds true, it’s all an entire waste of time, and a massive oppression on all involved the moment we try to establish any social order or code of morality or any standard for that matter. Individual freedoms are automatically eroded, and in fact suppressed, the moment we choose order over free expression. Defining any constraints becomes an injustice, and the hope of any true remuneration for our toils and struggles is completely null and void, unless we’re left to act with impunity. But even that won’t work, because the moment we are left to act with impunity, we automatically impose our expression on others, in which case we suppress their expression, assuming we’re the more dominant, or else ours will be suppressed if we’re not the more dominant. Either way, justice in averted and balance, true balance is impossible.

    Dystopia. In the absence of a higher order that we collectively serve, dystopia is all that is possible. But to each their own. Welcome. Don’t make yourself comfortable. This doesn’t last very long even if you insist on inaction, because entropy is your best friend, time is a superficial construct, and balance is based entirely on a combination of perception and subscription by the collective, which inherently cannot be trusted for consistency. I guess that’s a sneak peek into the dystopia of my mind. It’s an exhausting place to be.