Tag: selfworth

  • The forgotten village idiot

    The forgotten village idiot

    This essay has been playing on my mind a lot lately.

    Covid-19 has revealed the true nature of many, which only served to reinforce this notion.

    Who puts a smile on the face of the village idiot?

    The saddest part of this essay is that most who read the title thought it to be humorous.

    From my book The Egosystem, it explores our relationship with those who give selflessly, while being forgotten.

    This pandemic has highlighted the forgotten and the taken-for-granted, and it has diminished further the roles of others who are not deemed essential through need, but who maintain the wellbeing and spirit of others through quiet contribution.

    I’ve always considered what this world would feel like if we didn’t label the purpose or the need that we have of others, and instead we were compelled to choose very deliberately each time what it is that we value about another before we are able to obtain benefit from them.

    Would that be the cure for the pandemic of consumerism? Would it finally rid us of our inclination to see people as a means to an end?

    Or is even that an ideal so far fetched that only the most naive would buy into it?

  • Blind rage

    Blind rage

    Sometimes we get so caught up in our anger at the world that we lose sight of the fact that our anger feeds the very same cycles that we’ve grown to despise.

    Don’t get angry.

    If you can influence positive change, do it. If not, walk away.

    Insisting on rage after you’ve realised that you are unable to influence positive change is an indulgence of your ego and not a righteous protest.

    It’s not worth it.

    The rage within often blinds us from the oppression that we impose on others.

    The rage starts to build up after we’ve experienced oppression at the hands of others, but if left unchecked, it eventually clouds our judgement as we seek vengeance from anyone that reminds us of those who treated us badly.

    When you find a reason to rage at every assumed threat, peace becomes elusive and bitterness takes over.

    Find a balance between righting the wrongs and inspiring others to rise above your own experiences, otherwise all you’ll be left with is rage and no fulfilment, nor peace in this lifetime.

  • You give what you have

    You give what you have

    I’ve had many interesting discussions with my kids about this topic recently. If they are dishonest about something, I make them aware of the fact that they will only find reason to be honest with others if they find it unacceptable to be dishonest with themselves. What we tolerate by ourselves towards ourselves is what we are capable of offering to others. Nothing more. Nothing less. The day you realise this is the day you’ll see the fears and weaknesses that drives others to behave badly towards you. It was never about you. It’s always about reflecting who they are. You were just the outlet that they felt safe enough to vent on.

    You cannot give what you don’t have. If you lack self respect, you won’t be able to respect others. If you don’t appreciate what you have, you won’t express gratitude towards others. If you consistently feed yourself untruths about yourself or your behaviour, you will not trust the sincerity of others. And so it continues. The way we see ourselves is what informs our behaviour and interactions with the world. The more threatened we feel, the more aggressive we will be. So, the next time you see someone behaving badly, don’t judge them harshly, understand what they’re saying about how they value themselves, or how valued they feel by others. Judgement is a reflection of who we are, while understanding is a reflection of the purpose we wish to serve.

  • Return to Me

    Return to Me

    I stumbled upon a collection of some of my writing from many years ago. I had so much more clarity back then. To reconnect with that will require stripping away a lot of the clutter accumulated from my encounters with troubled souls in recent years. At some point, I stopped thinking aloud and started speaking to an audience. I need to forget the audience and return to my state of introspection. In my efforts to be understood, I distorted who I am in favour of inviting others in. Even now, in my contemplation of what is needed, I am addressing this to other than me.

    I need to return to me. My thoughts, my reflections, my promptings, all intended to reground my soul in my space, without any need to solicit the accepting glances, or the affirming smiles from those around me. I departed from the familiarity of who I am when I sacrificed my voice for a voice that was more palatable. Am I still within reach?

    The cacophony of murmurs from abandoned souls drown out the clarity that once tugged at my collar to remind me that I am. Not wanting to be, but am. Not looking for familiarity or warmth, but knowing with certainty that both resided within me. Comfortably, and harmoniously. Every sacrifice of me has proven futile for garnering the elusive embrace. It was always only enough to invite them in, but once they arrived, their needs overpowered my own, and my own self was subdued for their release.

    Release from the self is liberating only if redefining the self appears within reach. Too many shrug at the opportunity of reinvention, but torture their souls into a deafening silence as they find themselves caught between hating the present, lamenting the past, and pleading for the future, but refusing to give up an inch of familiarity because to be familiar even with demons is more comforting than being unfamiliar with strangers.

    To be known, I must return to knowing me. I must rediscover the voice of my soul, and relinquish the voice of my beast. The vessel of expression must once again succumb to the seat of intelligence, or else intelligence will be lost, and the basest of desires will forever remain unfulfilled. The ramblings of this madman must be exhumed from the grave of compliance and conformity and set upon this world of mediocrity without expectation of ever being recognised, but knowing that the cesspit, if it remains unchanged, did not remain so for the lacking efforts of a whimpering spirit.

    Success is yet to be defined, since all that had definition was defined from a need that abandoned the purpose that feeds the soul. Such definition distracts and destroys, but never prevails. Such definition is a contamination of the purity of purpose of the soul, and reflects nothing more than the needs of the broken. I am not done. Even if this world is done with me. There is still breath left in me, and it must be expended in nothing less than sincere contribution, or no contribution at all.

    I must return to me…