Tag: society

  • The Ebb and Flow of Mediocrity

    I’ve often found myself considering restraint in sharing my knowledge with some, because of the ridiculous assumption that in doing so, I may render myself redundant. But then I started considering previous times when I did share such knowledge and noticed how few embraced it. It’s really simple, this whole leadership thing. Take accountability for who you are, and lead by example. If you have the conviction, it will hold you in good stead, if you don’t, you’ll be a victim. Based on the simplicity of it all, I assumed that it would be readily adopted by most, given how sincerely everyone chants about their desire to rise above their circumstances. I’ve since discovered that those chants are hollow. It’s the quiet conviction that is evident only in action that holds any truth these days.

    The vast majority are so secure in celebrating their struggles, that they refuse to grasp a reality without it. They’ve chosen to be defined by their struggles. The rest of the meek look up to them as martyrs fighting the good fight, but refusing to see the self-deprecating behavior that keeps them firmly in that cycle because recognising such behaviour will inevitably lead to a self-realisation that will shake their world. I would never have believed that success was so daunting to so many if I didn’t witness it first hand. But it can’t be success, can it? I mean, everyone spends their lives trying to be successful in some way or another, so perhaps it’s their definition of success, the subconscious definition that needs to be questioned.

    I think too many of us define a reality of success that is different to our dream of success. We create goals that are based on ideal outcomes, and then look around to see our less-than-ideal circumstances, and resign those goals to being mere ideals and therefore unattainable. Then we focus on what is realistically achievable based on our current circumstances, measure that against our past successes, and calibrate our expectations of success against that. Little do we realise that in so doing, we have just defined mediocrity, and lost sight of true success. So what is true success then?

    I think true success is where our ideals meet with our convictions, so that we find ourselves creating the circumstances we need to achieve the idealistic goals that we desire. However, this demands a healthy ego, and an equally healthy passion driven by purpose. The one without the other is a recipe for humiliation. The ego is needed to establish the conviction that convinces us that we are capable, while the purpose driven passion is what keeps us focused on the outcome we set out to achieve. Again, sounds simple enough, yet so many still get it wrong. Why?

    The answer to that question, I believe, is easier than most would like to accept. It’s not the fear of success that holds us back, but the fear of accountability. Letting go of a struggle that has come to define who we are inevitably leaves us wanting when that struggle no longer holds true. And in there lies the ebb and flow of mediocrity. Some go through a lifetime redefining that struggle in order to ensure that it always holds relevance, while just a few shrug off the stigma of their struggles and choose to reinvent themselves as many times as is needed to get closer to the ideals of their dreams.

    The world is full of meekness clothed in aggression and pompous displays of trophies. When such is the prevailing reality, it stands to reason that those with purpose will be scorned as dreamers who will amount to nothing, until they do, followed by the masses swaying to celebrate the triumphs that they themselves scorned to begin with. Success by association is the food for the masses. It gives more people purpose than purpose itself.

    Contemplating this leaves a distinctly bitter after taste about the state of this world I find myself in. The difficulty of not being one of the masses in a society that has polarized towards group thinking and collective accountability, is that finding your success can be an intensely lonely path, leaving any subsequent embrace in the face of success deprived of sincerity.

  • Just Be

    I watched her from afar as she presented her story, projecting a tone of confidence, and a polished appearance. Well, at least as polished as her awkward physique would allow. Everyone else was focused intently on what she was saying, how it was being pitched, and what was in it for them. Mesmerised by her ability to sell concepts that they all knew existed, but not many could articulate. It was her gift, the gift of the gab that allowed her to win political favour without appointment. But the incompleteness of her expression revealed more than the content of her story. That smile that was supposed to exude confidence didn’t fully reach her eyes, because her eyes were not party to the conversation between her mind and her lips. Her eyes were probing. Darting around the room looking for the affirmation that she needed to believe that she was being recognised.

    The recognition she needed was not academic. It was what was needed to complete that smile. To smile without hesitance, or express without restraint. Never knowing if she had arrived, or if she was still fighting to be part of their journey, it left her incomplete. Each notch higher in the rungs that stretched out before her only taunted her insecurity that she hid so well. But her poise didn’t hide it. Nor did her eyes. As much as those eyes were the windows to her soul, it was also the windows to her insincerity spawned by her insecurity. Deep seated betrayals in the recesses of her childhood, played out in the anger of her adolescent years, emphasised by the rebelliousness of her young adult life when her rage could finally be financed, followed by the deep regrets of wasted years of venting left an incomplete smile in even her resilient soul. But it’s the same resilience that finally gave way to frustrations that eventually eroded the principles that all that rage fought to establish, or to oppose, simply because of the need for validation. That need to be socially acceptable, or professionally celebrated.

    There’s an awkwardness that I sense when I’m around people that are seeking approval or validation. Their presence feels contaminated. They sway with the presence of authority, or the absence of it. It’s like being left to wander in the desert mustering the spirit each time a mirage presents itself on the horizon, and suddenly surrendering your spirit the moment the mirage reveals itself for what it is. I think we arrive at moments in our lives when we forget that it’s what the mirage represents that we are seeking, and not the mirage itself. Eventually reality fuses with our dreams and determining the difference between the two becomes more difficult. The only hope to awaken from such a fused state is to arrive at the mirage so that we may be rudely awoken by the fact that it was not really what we set out to achieve.

    Some arrive at this point and feel a sense of futility. Often, the realization that so much of life has passed, and so little remains, leaves them feeling overwhelmed and disenchanted. This further entrenches the sense of betrayal they carried around with them since their early years turning them into manipulative brutes who seek to gain disproportionately from every encounter without apology or conscience. Others that pursued such dreams with sincerity or conviction, when faced with this realization, may be derailed for a while. Such moments of derailment will be opportunity for reflection, and hopefully renewed conviction. Fortunately, the former are not great in numbers, but unfortunately neither are the latter. The vast majority that reach this point find themselves disillusioned and deflated. They lay waste to a lifetime of struggle and perseverance lamenting their failure while refusing to place themselves in harm’s way again. They recede from the fight and choose to survive until they are no longer required to live.

    I’ve witnessed and experienced first hand the betrayal at the hands of those that have spent their lives enraged by having been betrayed. Each time I found myself recalibrating my expectations, and more importantly my search for purpose. Each time my purpose gained more clarity and my convictions needed more energy to sustain. That’s not as contradictory as it sounds. With each cycle of renewed effort after a betrayal, we have that much more that we need to push aside for us to remain focused on our goals. It becomes that much easier to succumb and join the masses that we could not sway. The boulder grows bigger while the ascent steeper. With such an inevitable end, it stands to reason that we must meet our final moments feeling spent, without an ounce left to give.

    I therefore cannot understand the rationale that drives so many to be someone other than who they wish to be. I think we all set out to change the world when we’re naïve about the egos that drive it. As we grow familiar with these egosystems, we resolve to break them up so that the wholesomeness of our philosophies can take hold instead. When we realize that the egosystems are larger than our best efforts, we may assume to instead work from within to undermine the structures that we could not change from the outside. Few succeed, while the rest of us surrender and become whores to the system.

    Just be who you are, without apology, and the world will accept or reject you the same way they will even if you were to try to appease them. At least that way, you won’t waste a lot of life in trying to secure acceptance or validation from a race that is born into distraction and consumption.

  • The Belly of Delhi (Take II)

    I left Delhi feeling uneasy. On the one hand I felt arrogant and judgemental, and on the other, I felt justified in some of my observations. The nagging notion that I could not shake, despite it prompting that feeling of arrogance or superiority, is the fact that individual choice will always trump the political setting within which we live. There was no shortage of complaints from people that I spoke to regarding the corruption, disregard of human life, and pollution to name a few things. I found this curious because it reminded me of my observation about how we always complain about society but completely forget that we make up that very society that we spurn.

    And so it is with Delhi, and every other place around the world that has similar problems. Almost unrelated but similar in principle, it reminds me of my thoughts when I saw the police brutality against the Egyptians when they protested against the government during the early days of the Arab Spring. People polarised so easily without considering that those policemen came from the same communities that they were attacking, and in turn didn’t blame their own communities for raising such brutes that were blind to human suffering in the face of orders from a corrupt command line. South Africans that complain bitterly about the government and burn public infrastructure in protest only to vote the same government back into power are also a prime example of the same mentality. It is this lack of accountability and awareness of our contribution to the degradation that we suffer that often leaves me struggling for words to describe the bewilderment that I feel when I witness its outcome.

    Political corruption does not dictate personal or collective hygiene. It’s not a privileged life that teaches us not to defecate where we grow our vegetables, or to urinate where we walk. Nor is it a privileged upbringing that teaches us to share before we selfishly consume, or to be honest instead of cheating when we do business. Compassion is only eroded when we’re in search of something that in itself conflicts with such values. Our exploitation of those lower in the food chain is what solicits our exploitation by those higher in the same food chain. Similarly, the less we respect ourselves, the less likely we are to positively contribute towards others, let alone show due respect for them as well. All these are symptoms, like the drivers that drive without care or concern for order or rules, with a blank cold stare on their faces, unmoved and oblivious to the frustration they cause, because everyone else is doing the same. This is the mentality that creates the critical mass that allows corruption to thrive. It’s the same mentality that silences the detractors, not because the detractors are silent, but because their protests are easily drowned out by the cries of the self-serving through their sheer volume.

    When we do simply because everyone is doing it as well, we lose the right to complain about the outcome when that outcome denies us our dignity, or our dues. The world is in turmoil not because of corrupt leaders, but because of corrupt societies. Societies are corrupt because the communities that comprise those societies have lost their way. But these wayward communities are merely echoes of the dysfunction that exists within the family units. Raising daughters to be slaves, or men to be brutes, or treating human beings like livestock that can be traded, or abusing children as if they were created for our amusement. These are not a result of corrupt leaders. No. These create corrupt leaders. We have social conditions that are unprecedented because we have become unprecedented in our selfishness. That selfishness that erodes the greater good that would otherwise maintain the harmony that we so desperately seek.

    The laws of cause and effect are all-encompassing and consistent. What we put in is what we get out. Extremism begets extremism. Raise children in an environment that stifles creative expression and watch the rebel form the moment your stranglehold on their being is loosened. Traditionalists have become insecure in a world where nothing is sacred. That insecurity rallies the spirit to defend as if on a noble crusade, when in fact it’s merely a desperate attempt to retain significance that is bound to rituals from a time that holds no relevance. What has this got to do with the Belly of Delhi? Reverse engineer that belly, and at its core you will find the selfish indulgence of a society that is steeped in ritualistic compliance and lacking in principles or values that are congruent with their aspirations.

    Delhi is not unique in this regard, nor is India as a whole. The world is infested with such degradation of spirit, but Delhi just has the scale to make it easier for the us to notice, assuming we have any inclination to notice at all.

  • Hijacked Agenda

    At some point in our history, Islam was hijacked by well-meaning community leaders and turned into a religion of fear and compliance, rather than the balanced lifestyle that it actually propagates. It’s that eternal struggle for balance that was probably lost when people veered from the practices of moderation and sincerity because of a fundamental shift in what they aspired towards. Instead of focusing on what drove that shift and remedying that, the community leaders rallied around driving fear into the hearts of the people to encourage them to return to the path of moderation.

    I think there is infinitely more to gain from leading a life of purpose rather than a life of compliance. Compliance has the potential of a successful outcome, but yields very little joy in the journey itself. Purpose has the potential for both, and so it is with Islam as well. Instead of constantly focusing on the repercussions of non-compliance, we should be focusing on the beauty and benefit of compliance. Rather than acting out of fear, we will find ourselves responding with passion and conviction. Every single chapter of the Qur’an, except for chapter nine, begins with the confirmation that God is the most merciful, yet everything that is preached is focused on His punishment and wrath instead. The logic around our approach towards learning and teaching about Islam is fundamentally flawed.

    Understanding the wisdom behind something always leads to an appreciation for it. Where that wisdom has a direct bearing on our lives, it automatically leads to adoption of such principles into our own lives thereby entrenching the benefits of its practices because of the conviction with which we do it, rather than birthing a grudge practice because we’re afraid of the result of non-compliance. Personally, I blame the Indo-Pak influences for most of this. Based on my own cultural influences from my upbringing as a Muslim of Indian descent in South Africa, and referencing my experiences with Pakistani/Indian and Arab communities in my work abroad, the consistent trend is clear. The common motivator for discipline in the Indo-Pak communities is dominated by punishment or negative consequences that are to be imposed, rather than experienced as a natural outcome, coupled with an absence of opportunity or total intolerance to question the rationale behind what is being taught.

    It is from this same quarter that I see regular accusations of deviancy and even disbelief against practicing Muslims simply because they (those Muslims) don’t comply with the preferred interpretations of the Indo-Pak-based schools of thought. The emphasis on the ritualisation of everything Islamic, and the focus on imposing social structures that have no direct basis in the traditions of the beloved Prophet (peace be upon him) lead to unhealthy dynamics that tear communities apart. What started out as a need for revival has fast turned into a turf war. The sectarian rhetoric continues to pour down in bucket loads from the pulpits, while at the same time pleading for Allah’s mercy in the delivery of rain to a drought stricken land.

    I am convinced that there are simply too many self-proclaimed scholars brandishing about man-made titles that are supposed to emphasise their religiosity relative to the average Muslim, which establishes them, in the eyes of a warped society, as superior Muslims to the rest. Islam has never been about title-hood, inherited privilege, or binary thinking. It has always been about principles and values that align with the core nature of what we need to achieve a fulfilling and purposeful life coupled with a harmonious interaction with society. It is about moderation and justice, and subscription, not compulsion. Too often we mistaken laws that were intended for guiding our personal actions with laws that are intended to establish harmony in society. For this reason we see fit to pass judgement and, when within our means, punishment against those that indulge in an act that does not transgress the rights of others, but is only harmful to the individual.

    Islam has been hijacked by the scholars long before it was hijacked by the West. The scholars, with their divisive politics, have made it easy for the West to use Muslims as their fodder for their wars. The masses that blindly follow play to the personal agendas of the scholars that seek to prop themselves up as leaders of a nation that have no leadership. This reminds me of the stench of opportunism among the same leadership that is ever ready to chastise the masses for their non-compliance or wayward behaviour, but never take responsibility as the self-proclaimed leaders that they are, for being incapable of leading the nation of Muslims out of the quagmire that we find ourselves in.

    The most potent sign of the times, for me, is the fact that we are living proof of one of the major signs of the hour, where Allah promised to raise a nation that will re-establish the beauty of Islam because those that inherited its custom will no longer serve its true purpose. The majority of the growth of Islam is from reversions to Islam, and not from the offspring of families that were born into Muslim households. Islam is being wrestled away from the traditional strongholds that assumed to be the flag bearers of this beautiful way of life, but they’re so caught up in their self-praise and condescension on lesser Muslims, that they would rather assume themselves to be the strangers that were promised paradise, while not realising that they don’t fit the description to begin with.

    I’m often reminded of the prophecy that states that a time will come when we will despise the scholars. The general assumption is that such a disgust towards scholars will be due to ignorance or evil intent on the part of the masses, but most don’t consider that it may be due to the unacceptable behaviour of the scholars themselves. I think the claim to being a scholar is akin to the profession of humility. The mere profession of the same leaves the claim null and void. We don’t need self-proclaimed scholars or schools of thought to resurrect the honour of the Ummah. What we need is a return to the Islamic traditions (the Sunnah) that won the hearts of the most vile of humankind at a time when even Europe was sunken in barbarism and acts of filth so vile, that most would prefer to recall it only as fairy tales or romanticised fictional stories instead.

    Despite the hijacked history of Islam, it was not spread by the sword. The sword was only ever raised in defense of an imminent attack. Muslims went out to meet their enemies rather than wait for their enemies to come to their cities. These days we invite the enemies in, and then go out to plead for their mercy to escape the horror that we created at home. It is no wonder that the reverts to Islam consistently demonstrate a better understanding and appreciation of its intent and principles than most Muslims that have been raised in a traditional Muslim household. In  the absence of authentic leadership, and a world full of tainted sources of knowledge, being a Muslim of moderation becomes exceedingly difficult at a time when questioning is needed, but is not afforded.

  • The Projection of Rage

    There is very little else that enrages me more than the sight of parents that project their insecurities on their children. Parents that feel insecure about where they’re at or how they’re perceived by society and then over compensate by supposedly making sure that their children are not going to be perceived in the same way. The coward’s way of life is to live vicariously through others. That’s safe, risk averse, and effectively protects you from being perceived as a failure. That’s not life. That’s fear.

    But it’s not only parents that project such fears on their children and then raise sheltered or dysfunctional charges. It’s a practice that is almost pervasive these days from governments to organisations to almost every social structure we see. It feels like we’re living in a world where everyone has to defend their claim to significance, and those that feel like they don’t have one, associate themselves with causes that justify their rage at feeling insignificant. Countries that have military might will exact respect through force, or impose their beliefs through occupation, while organisations do the same through developing lethargic hierarchical structures that disempower while holding accountable those without authority.

    Behind all of this aggression lies flawed human beings that lack conviction or sincerity, and therefore leverage the tools and resources at their disposal to make a point that would otherwise go unheard. The climb to the top therefore becomes one of self-enrichment rather than servitude. It is therefore no wonder that those that occupy public office, or positions of ultimate authority, rarely use it for the benefit of the masses, but instead aim to benefit their revered peers instead. It’s a corruption of the soul that leads to a vapid life. A life that feels so empty that the only way to fill it is through the acquisition of trinkets and distractions, and the exercise of authority over subjects that have no means to retaliate or protest.

    The individualistic and narcissistic tendencies of the modern day interpretation of human rights and the rule of democratic law has created a cesspool of moral and ethical degradation that celebrates the implosion of human dignity. We’ve created structures and protocols that pacify our innate conscience so that we are not deprived of sleep at night, but we live the same indignity we impose the moment we find ourselves deprived of the resources we once wielded.

    For governments it’s a coup or a landslide defeat when being removed from power. For organisations, it’s the cheque book holders that dethrone the arrogant heads that no longer serve them well. For society, it’s the leaders that fall from grace when their morally objectionable behaviour that is celebrated in private becomes public. We only seem to be called to account if the common knowledge of our excess indulgence becomes noted by those perceived to be our moral authorities, otherwise turning a blind eye works well because we have much that we wish others would overlook as well.

    We’re a society that resides in glass houses. We lament the erosion of dignity and peace, but refuse to acknowledge our contribution to it. This is not a rant, it’s a lament. We’re so focused on appearances, perceptions, and reputation, that we dare not disappoint the expectations of those that need our fickleness as a yardstick against which to measure their own.

    Society, of which I am a futile member, have become nothing more than a projection of rage on that which we cannot influence, or prevent. We are enslaved, more by our fears of being human than by any system imposed on us. Authenticity is rare. It requires an embrace of who we are, and a conviction in who we want to be. Most are willing to settle for the facade, because the substance appears far too daunting to pursue. The path of least resistance has never been more appealing to the meek than it is now. It is therefore no wonder that we are meek in conviction, and bold in oppression, of ourselves, and those around us.

    [This turned out to be more cryptic than intended]

  • On Sin for the Sinless

    We’re experiencing a drought in South Africa at the moment. In some areas it is the worst they’ve had it in 30 years. One town even reported their tap water turning salty because the river mouth has dried up, causing the seawater to seep in. In response to this drought there have been calls from all political and religious persuasions to use water sparingly and support each other where possible, especially in the worse hit areas.

    The Muslim community responded as well and scheduled a special congregational prayer for rain to be held tomorrow morning. It is no different to the manner of praying for any other prayer time, but the intent and purpose is distinctly different. As Muslims, we believe that such conditions as drought befall us because of the general level of sin in our communities. Now before you dismiss this as religious hogwash, consider my perspective first.

    The subscription to the notion of sinning is not necessarily constrained to religion either, and most certainly not limited to Muslims. So set aside the stigma and think of it as an imbalance in life, and by extension, society. We always think of sins in a transactional way. We assume that the sin itself is what brings the negative recompense, but generally fail to consider the broader context of the environment that sustains such sins.  When we indulge excessively, either in good or bad, we tend towards extremism. Such extremism leads to imbalance, which is typically manifested in unnatural conditions that befall us. Extremism, again setting stigmas aside, is when we party more than we reflect, consume more than we contribute, or destroy more than we create. Within this context, I believe, the true nature of sinning is revealed.

    Droughts are caused by imbalances in the environment. Destroy the natural balance of an ecosystem and the results will mean the destruction of the ecosystem. Remove the trees that are the lungs of the earth and the earth will cease to breathe. Simple, yet so difficult for most to grasp. More importantly, relative to the point I wish to make, the reasons for this imbalance is what drives us to do the stupid things that we do like destroying balance in favour of imbalance. We party hard because we need to escape, or we need to feel included. The destruction it causes internally, and often to those around us as well, is ignored because we’re distracted by the gratification we feel from the ability to escape or the void that is filled when we feel included.

    Trees that are not appreciated for their contribution is quickly consumed as a trivial resource because it holds the promise of wealth. Re-purposing the fertile land to hold a shopping mall or block of apartments that will yield premium returns on our investment quickly dwarfs the need for reason around why the trees should be respected. The excess we indulge in for purposes of wealth creation distracts us from the balance we are responsible for maintaining. Chasing these trinkets leads to excesses, usually sinful in nature, because it goes with the territory. In other words, the sin is just the symptom of a sick society, it is not what makes society sick.

    What I am struggling to articulate is that when we hear religious leaders talk about our sins being the reason for the natural disasters we see around us, we automatically assume that it is a specific and deliberate response from God to smite us for our actions, when in fact it’s merely a natural consequence to the imbalance we created. This is just one example of this cycle. Far too often we find ourselves seeking answers in symptoms forgetting to reflect on the causes that landed us in the unfortunate situation to begin with.

    The sinless are those that are faultless. They’re the ones that believe that everything untoward that happens to them is not deserved. They believe that the occurrence of misfortune must be imposed and can never be a cause of their own doing. The sinless are the naive, the ingrates, the distracted ones. Those that are not naive, ungrateful, or distracted know that there are no sinless beings around. We all make mistakes. Just because the mistakes are not intended (they wouldn’t be mistakes if they were) doesn’t mean that we’re suddenly immune to the consequences. It’s like accidentally killing someone and then saying I didn’t mean to kill them hoping that that would miraculously undo the destruction that your action caused in the first place.

    The state of being sinless exists only in our own minds when we’re in denial. When we stop associating it with religion and punishment, we’ll start seeing it for what it is. It’s a harm we perpetrate against ourselves first, before anyone else. The excess, while being directly harmful to others around us, started eroding the good within us long before we acted on it. The collective imbalance of society is bound to result in an outcome that is larger than the sum of the contribution of each of us. It’s like a snowball effect. One plus one does not equal two in this case, because it often accelerates as a factor of the contribution and not just a reciprocation in equal parts.

    The lesson, for me, is simple. Stop harming myself, before I can stop harming others. Stop blaming others for the harm that I impose on myself. The rest will find its own balance. The difficulty in stopping the harm is not due to an inability to stop. It’s due to the unwillingness to give up the gratification that the excess offers us. The less likely we are to give it up in favour of more sustainable means of fulfilment, the more likely we are to reach the tipping point on a global scale. Say hello to climate change.

    [I’m too lazy to fully complete this thought process right now]

  • The Way You Do That Thing

    I recently read an article that suggested that they could provide you with insights into your personality depending on how you held your handbag, and the first thought that came to mind was, “How fickle!” Then I thought about it a little more and quickly realised that the same can be done with almost any shared behaviour that can be analysed between people. There is a general tone that underlies all of these behaviours, and it’s that emotional tone that I think is more insightful than any reactive analysis of how we handle a bag, purse, or wallet.

    I’ve found that my mental state is either calm and composed, excited and passionate, or weighed down and dreary. Sure, there are a number of permutations that exist across each of those bands, and that is to be expected, but there is almost always only one of them that is dominant at any given point in time. The one that is dominant is either spurred on by environment, or objective. The stronger we are at maintaining our sense of self in the face of adversity, the more likely we’ll be able to maintain our disposition out of choice rather than through instinctive response to what is happening around us.

    With this somewhat simplistic view, consider it within the context of how you write or doodle. When you’re calm and composed, in other words not feeling threatened or under pressure, your signature will probably be more fluid in its movements or curves. Your fingers or wrist won’t strain when you’re signing that till slip or contract, and your pressure will be differentiated just enough to place emphasis on those elements that subconsciously define your passions and inclinations, while skimming over those that simply complete the statement of who you are. Sign the same till slip when you’re feeling pressured or under duress, and suddenly the elements that were previously just mildly emphasized are now prominent, while the detail of the rest is quickly transformed into an unrecognizable squiggle because making a statement about the complete you is not so important. All that is important when you’re in that mindset is to establish your significance. To make a bold statement about who you are and why you demand to be taken seriously.

    The same is true when we doodle. Under duress the doodle is harsh and deliberate. Usually concentrated patches of graphics or hard angles, while fluid and shaded when we’re not under duress. Squares and jagged edges replace curves and flowers to express frustration or anxiety. Logical flows or sequences reflect a need for structure, or an expression of boredom, and so on.

    At the risk of over simplifying it (more than I already have) this in a nutshell is how every action of ours reflects what is going on internally. Those that pay attention to these nuances in our behaviour gain an insight into our frame of mind that allows them to use it, or abuse it to their advantage. Sometimes, a sincere observer will pick up on it and find ways to either draw you out of the detrimental phase you’re in, or they’ll make you aware of it so that you can use it to your advantage. How? Consider it from this perspective. If I am aware of the response I get from others when I’m angry, and that response gets the results that I need after all other avenues are exhausted, in future I will be able to draw on anger as a tool of expression when needed, rather than sliding into an angry state because I’m out of control.

    What I mean is, if anger is used as a tool of expression, rather than a last resort to demand to be taken seriously, it becomes a lot more productive and is easier to harness and control, than if it is simply a state that overtakes us in a moment of desperation. To achieve this, we must be mindful (yeah, that word again). But mindful of what, you might ask? Mindful of the dynamics of the situation we’re faced with, and more importantly, mindful of our internal state in response to that situation. A third dimension that extends from the latter is an ongoing awareness of our abilities or talents. The more aware we are of what we’re capable of, the more likely we will be to deliberately draw on those abilities or talents selectively when needed, rather than relying on instinct to bring it to the fore when needed.

    So how does all this relate to how you do that thing? The way you walk, the angle of your step, the gait you adopt, the completeness of your smile, the expressiveness of your style. It all reflects who you are, and what you wish to convey to the world. The more bold you are, the more confident you are that where you’re at is worth being admired and celebrated. The more subtle you are, the less likely you are to want the attention of others unless specifically needed. We say more with our actions and non-verbal expressions than we ever say with words. Think about that the next time you remain quiet when you know someone is expecting an overt verbal response. Then smile quietly as you have that a-ha moment. It’s that moment that, if nurtured, will spur you on to grow larger than the life you lead up to that point. That’s the power of mindfulness. It forces us to be accountable where before we felt we were victims.

  • What Am I?

    I once heard that if you intend to be good at something, you should repeat it to yourself as if you are, and not as if you wish to be. The intent to be isn’t always followed up by action, but by stating that you are what you wish to be, you condition yourself to behave as that, rather than who you are, or were. At the time of hearing this I was particularly poor at professional networking, and I recall using that as the statement of conviction for myself. As part of that exercise I stated quite boldly, “I am adept at professional networking!” I don’t think it worked.

    I still suck at it, but I do venture into that space more readily than before. However, at the risk of potentially contradicting what I said in The Placebo Effect, I think when we tell ourselves that we are something we’re not, but we have a sincere intention of achieving it, it prompts us to consciously act within the behavioural norms of that which we wish to be, rather than in the ways that may have inhibited our progress in that direction. I think it’s called cognitive dissonance.

    With this in mind, I’ve recently been bold enough to tell people that I’m a part time writer. Only problem is, I know I say it with a lacking conviction. I’m more a rambler than I am a writer. Having a collection of thoughts with a reasonable grasp of the language is hardly the makings of a writer. In attempting to start in earnest on a book recently, I realised the discipline and monotony involved in seeing such a project through.

    I’ve always quipped that if ever I wrote a book, I would sit down, start, and continue non-stop for a few days until I was done. I think a few years ago that may have still been possible, but given the level of noise and clutter now, it’s just a pipe dream.

    My thoughts are lacking in congruence now, and setting out for such an endeavour leaves me filled with frustration and impatience rather than a sense of composed expression. The result is a lot of noise that echoes my mental state rather than creating the clarity or comfort of being sufficiently expressed. In this state, making the bold statement that I am a writer leaves me feeling conflicted and insincere, rather than authentic.

    I sometimes read through my previous rambles and often cannot recognise it as being a part of me. People sometimes quote me in their correspondence to me and I end up agreeing with them as if it’s a point they made, which must seem quite superficial for them. If only they knew that my own words and thoughts often feel foreign to me. For this reason, among many others, I find it increasingly difficult to define myself as a writer, part-time or otherwise. In fact, I find it difficult to define myself at all. Such definition must dictate consistency, and consistency is something I do not subscribe to outside of my spheres of responsibility or duty.

    I guess the question relating to what I am will remain unanswered for the foreseeable future. Perhaps forever. Perhaps I’ll never afford the comfort to those around me to allow them to perceive me as a complete and finite being. Maybe in that lies part of the problem, not just for me but for all of us faced with this same question. If it was not for our need to be perceived as a specific being, we would have no need to define ourselves. I can only imagine that such absence of definition will be liberating and congruent with the nature of things around us, because it will afford a level of adaptability that definition, by definition, denies us. What a futile pursuit it is to feel compelled to act against our nature simply because the frailty of society dictates that such behaviour is necessary for predictable outcomes.