Tag: truth

  • Quote – Marcus Aurelius

    Persuade me or prove to me that I am mistaken in thought or deed, and I will gladly change— for it is the truth I seek, and the truth never harmed anyone. Harm comes from persisting in error and clinging to ignorance.

    Marcus Aurelius

  • The Egosystem

    Egosystem (n) – A complex set of defenses designed to stave off criticism or intelligent conversation with the aim of retaining our preferred status quo. In the corporate world, often presented as a plausible excuse to resist change and establish empires.

    It’s the same egosystem that causes us to grow defensive in the face of opposition, where we feel persecuted if our opinion is not accepted. The irony is that we employ such defense mechanisms with the aim of protecting ourselves from a perceived threat, when in fact that defense is what harms us most.

    Exhausting is the effort it takes to wear down such defenses so that a whole life can be lived. Exhausting for both the whistle blower and the victim. We’re often so focused on defending ourselves from being the perceived victims of circumstances and others around us that we fail to protect ourselves from becoming victims of ourselves.

    In a world that is engineered to create victims in order to create new capitalist markets, the corrosive mindset that it spawns quickly sets the tone for how we perceive our worth relative to the world around us. I used to think that I interacted with various ecosystems as I worked my way through life, or simply through an average day, but the longer I live, the more I realise that it is the egosystems that drive the events around me rather than any ecosystem I previously perceived.

    When I fail to recognise those egosystems, I inevitably get drawn into it and find myself trying to defend my contribution in a space that is already contaminated by the egos of others. There is no value that can be demonstrated in such a setting. You either play to the egos that you’re surrounded with, or you disrupt. When you play to it, you become the disrupted and inevitably find yourself toeing the line to a tune you didn’t choose. But it offers inclusion and feigned acceptance, which is comforting at a superficial level. But because most of us live superficially, we willingly subscribe to such a toxic social setting. Not always limited to our social circles though, and in fact, more prone to exist in our professional circles where almost everything becomes a measuring contest.

    However, when I do become aware of the egosystem that putrefies the air around me, my instinctive response is to disrupt. It’s that long held belief of mine that the arrogant must be treated with arrogance, which has served my sanity well, but my bank account and social circles have suffered as a result. Hypocrisy seeps to the surface when I find myself restraining myself in the face of such isolation or disruption because I lack the will to trudge through the mire that often follows such conviction. But I placate myself by believing that similar to arrogance, hypocrites deserve a dose of hypocrisy. Do I then willingly contribute to the cesspool that I despise? Probably. But I find it acceptable as a response to those that refused to respond to the wholesome goodness of my ego, and therefore deserve a taste of my alter-ego instead.

    One of the most scary thoughts for me has always been the knowledge that if I had to embrace the vile behaviours of those around me with the same vigour and conviction as I do my current set of principles, I would be devastatingly effective at politics. Yes, I know, that must sound so arrogant, but that is exactly the point I am making. Being arrogant does not require conviction in principles. It simply requires an indulgent mind bent on self-enrichment and consumerism. Pretty much the ingredients needed to sustain a destructive egosystem.

    We’re all capable of being assholes, so a successful asshole is not one that should be celebrated because there are too many principled fools that fell as a result of their manipulations. But principled fools don’t seem to garner much respect either because they appear naïve and foolhardy in their convictions, so it is of little surprise that there is not much respect in this world, let alone respect for the world we live in. The ecosystem of earth is being contaminated by the egosystem of us, but we seem to be looking for answers everywhere but at home.

  • The Rabbit Hole of Insecurity

    I’ve always found that there is no shortage of people to advise you on what to do in life, but very few that can show you how. I see people telling each other all the time to be happy, don’t stress, be confident, don’t feel overwhelmed, and so much more, but every single time I’m reminded of how such advice is almost entirely pointless unless the recipient is clearly aware of what they’re doing to get them into that unpleasant state to begin with. But we’re so used to taking comfort from distractions that even now when presented with such empty advice we find comfort in it. Not because the advice is useful, but because it implies that someone cares enough to notice that we’re not in a pleasant space. How fickle.

    Fickleness is pervasive. But like I always maintain, pervasive ignorance should never be mistaken for collective wisdom. Just because we are able to console each other with vague gestures of compassion or concern does not mean we actually do care. We give more of ourselves when we share the lessons of the weaknesses we hold, or have succumbed to, than when we hand out trinkets of wisdom that merely embellish the façade of composure or success that we wish to present. Because that is exactly what it is. I’ve found that when I grow oblivious to my ego due to a lack of attention over an extended period of time, I quickly develop a deep seated confidence in my overt state as being the real me. What I present to the world I am convinced is in fact what I embrace within. Fortunately something or someone usually comes along to challenge that assumption of mine which leaves me unsettled enough to recede while abandoning my pompous disposition.

    The problem lies in the how. But beyond that, the bigger problem lies in our lack of courage to embrace the reality of how unaccomplished we truly are.  When we accept that we have achieved less than we were able to achieve regardless of our best efforts or greatest reasons for having been hampered in our endeavours, only then will we be truly open to learning more than the average life teaches us. I am constantly reminded about how late in life I am gaining the realisations that would have served me well much earlier in life. At times I dismiss it as being irrelevant because my mishaps and failures groomed me into who I am today, ignoring the arrogance that accompanies such a profession, at other times I wonder how much further along this path I may have been had I started out learning some of those lessons from the mistakes of others instead. That would have set me off on a firmer footing that I could have developed further, as opposed to finding it out for myself. It felt like life wasted away in those moments, but my gut suggested otherwise.

    I look at those that are gluttons in their search for knowledge and devour volumes of the sciences of varying interests achieving a state of professional regurgitation and eloquent verbosity, while struggling to apply even a fraction of the gems of wisdom that were revealed between the covers that they repeatedly cracked open purely focused on ingesting, with very little emphasis on applying. Perhaps what restricts our ability to apply the knowledge we have acquired is not necessarily our inability to grasp its essence as needed, but instead it is our insecurity in our ability to execute what it demands that drives us towards complacency, or more accurately, meekness.

    Insecurity is not only unattractive, it is repulsive. Quite literally as well. I find myself repulsed by those that are chronically insecure because of the burden of expectation and indulgence that they solicit, with very little to offer in return. The insecure polarise towards each other and establish circles of back-slappers that reassure each other about their distractions so that the façade they maintain is strengthened through collective practice. The secure ones are often found in smaller groups, if in groups at all. They are the ones that hold a conviction in their beliefs and perspectives which lend them an insight into the frailties of the former group, which in turn prevents them from seeking the validation of those that appear to prevail.

    The masses are weak. By their very nature they thrive on validation and affirmation. They reciprocate in great measures because the exchange is a self-sustaining cycle. It is possible to go through an entire lifetime needing nothing more, and that is perfectly acceptable, unless you are inclined to change the world in your wake. If you wish to improve the state of your self, and in turn, the state of those around you, being a meek member of the masses is never an option. You will thrive on understanding how you found yourself in that pathetic state that jolted you into action, rather than cringing at the thought of being seen as weak.

    The rabbit hole of insecurity is a deep maze that allows little light in. It sets us on a course of distraction that leaves us oblivious to the destruction or even the injustice that we leave in our wake. Courage is defined by our conviction to act on the values and principles that we subscribe to. Those values and principles can only be sufficiently formulated if we choose to see the world with a critical mind. Blindly following others is a symptom of disease. Not only does it rob you of your agency to act consciously, it denies those around you of the value that you are supposed to contribute in their lives and towards their growth. Insecurity is a convenient exit clause from the harsh reality of life. It is a choice, and nothing less. But because it is probably the most common choice made, we have fooled ourselves into believing that it is in fact human nature. If it were human nature, it would not leave us diseased with fear, ill health, and impotence.

  • The Heroes We Want To Be

    What if I told you I had cancer? Would I suddenly appear bolder and braver than those without it? Or perhaps I lost a loved one, or suffered a traumatic event? Would that suddenly make me easier to understand or relate to? Why is it that we find ourselves compassionate only to those whose troubles we know, but assume that all others are privileged and therefore not in need of our consideration unless earned? It’s exactly this morbidity that drives the mentality of hero worship. We only perceive others as heroes if they have triumphed over a struggle that weighs us down, or achieved a goal against odds similar to our own.

    I can’t recall who said it, but they said it well when they suggested that:

    Each time we create a hero we diminish our own capacity for greatness.

    When we create heroes we create limits. The naïve optimist may see it as setting an aspirational goal, but the realist knows that it sets a limit to what we wish to achieve. It therefore defies logic and reason that one would go through life with the goal of being someone’s hero. There are two critical shortcomings in such an objective. With the first having been explained above, the second is more troubling though because it suggests that the one seeking such a status is shaping their life around the expectations of another.

    I vehemently oppose the belief that we should live our lives with the intention of fulfilling another’s expectations of us. The one that appears to be heroic in such an endeavour is in fact a martyr. Not all martyrs are worthy of celebration. Those that act impulsively out of conviction rather than a consideration for the consequential fame and admiration they may earn are of honourable, maybe even of noble intent. Those that act while consciously aware of the potential fame and good fortune that may follow are attention-seekers and should be spurned. They are the ones that will behave unethically and will lose their moral compass the moment their intended audience is not around to witness their foul ways.

    We are driven more by our ego than we are by sincerity of intent. Those that deny this fact are in fact in denial. So when we set out to be the hero of those around us, be they our significant others, or people whose respect and admiration we court, we must not fool ourselves into believing that such an endeavour is a noble one. Although the benefits may be so, the intent is very firmly grounded in our need for significance, or our need to allay the guilt of those actions that undermine the integrity of the relationship we proclaimed to have had with the one we now wish to serve. Simply stated, when we feel a need to compensate for past failures or betrayals, we willingly sacrifice our rights and liberties in order to repay our debts for previously abusing the rights of others. And to the casual observer, we may appear heroic in the process.

    I think every one of us harbours a desire to be celebrated. The greater the self-loathing, the greater the need for that affirmation and validation. Those that court such attention are often the most troubled. Those that don’t, seek fulfilment of a more substantial kind. But that is the musings of another post altogether. All this keeps nagging at me with one final realisation that many don’t grasp. The difference between rights and expectations. Some will read this and find reason to abdicate their responsibility towards others under the false notion that they refuse to live according to the expectations of others, when in fact the truth is closer to them searching for any reason to abdicate responsibility. Period.

  • Swimming Upstream

    It’s the counter-intuitiveness of that statement that resonates with my experiences in life, in general. Similar to the salmon, it seems to be driven by the belief that at the top of that stream lies fulfilment and purpose. But pushing against the tide is tiresome.

    Purpose doesn’t always bring fulfilment. It’s a stark reality that dawned on me today when I considered the potential outcome of my life if I continue to be driven by the principles and values that I subscribe to now. It is generally accepted that those that change the world are rarely part of the crowd because it stands to reason that to be able to determine what the cause of the chaos in the crowd is, one would have to extract themselves from those surrounds in order to obtain a clearer view. But people don’t like it when you have a clear view of their shortcomings or their fears. It makes them vulnerable, and in the absence of trust, that vulnerability becomes something that either needs to be disguised cleverly, or defended fiercely.

    I usually find myself on the receiving end of the latter, and it is this realisation that has caused me to contemplate whether or not I will achieve a sense of fulfilment before the end of my time. I’m convinced that I won’t. Explaining or rationalising this is proving difficult.

    I see myself on the outside looking in surrounded by people that are more intent on maintaining the peace than dealing with the rot, but simultaneously lamenting the gravity of life in those moments when the stench of that rot permeates their idyllic make-believe world. Rather than deal with the rot, we invest in disguises to convince us that it’s either not so bad, or that it doesn’t even exist. I’m the fool that comes along, scoops up a handful of that decaying matter, and brandishes it about in people’s faces until they acknowledge that their disguises are bullshit and that their supposed progress is in fact a lie.

    People tend to despise the one that disrupts their slumber but instead embraces the one that sings them the lullaby. It’s ironic then that the success that they later achieve as a result of being stirred from their stupor is celebrated with the one that made their sleep as peaceful as possible, instead of appreciating the one that unsettled their existence. Those that disrupt force us to break the inane cycles that trap us into the ruts of our lives. Unfortunately too many are comfortable despising the rut while defending it fiercely, believing that they’re protecting themselves while flirting with dreams that only they know exists.

    Dreams of greatness, of purpose, and of celebration. They dream of being celebrated for amazing contributions, but they rarely if ever share that dream with others because of the fear of ridicule or failure. They’re the ones that swim in the calm waters away from the rapids. They’re the ones that are convinced that maintaining the order and revering the system is what is best for society, while forgetting that the system that they revere was in fact established by those they despise.

    Swimming upstream is an exercise in futility laced with a hint of greatness, but it’s that greatness that drives those that are born restless. Those that spurn complacency and mediocrity. It’s not the greatness associated with recognition or affirmation, because that is merely slavery embellished with hollow accolades. It is the greatness that is felt with the knowledge that there are lives that have been nudged at just the right time to get a timid soul to change course from one that was entrenched in pain and servitude, to one that offered fulfilment and mastery.

     

  • Recalibration and Resuscitation

    There are moments when my resolve gives way to feelings of surrender. It usually accompanies moments in my life when I realise that my expectations are consistently exceeding my reality, often relative to those around me. Initially I find myself rejecting the simple truth that that holds, but eventually the unintended cycle of recalibrating my expectations begins. Recalibration for me is like rising to the surface for a breath of air before submerging again into the sea of expectations that pervade my life.

    In the absence of this cycle, I find myself growing persistent in my justified views of what should be expected from those around me. As much as I have my rights to those expectations, its unfulfilled reality strips me of the peace that would otherwise be enjoyed should those rights have been fulfilled. It was in contemplating this that I realised that life is all about victims and oppressors, with a smattering of humanity in between. When we recognise and fulfil our rights towards those around us, we become humane. The moment we fall short or overstep those bounds, we become either oppressors or victims respectively.

    The challenge with this realisation though is that most people are so immersed in their need to be fulfilled, that they have long since lost sight of the rights that others have over them. The overwhelming majority of those that still breathe today are victims of circumstance, and mostly of themselves. It is this reality that forces the need for recalibration because in the normal course of life, everything being equal, and all parties fulfilling their rights before demanding their expectations, such recalibration will not be needed because the natural order will be maintained. Withholding our contribution towards the fulfilment of the rights of those around us disrupts that order, and more often than not we are the ones withholding in response to us being the disgruntled recipients of the effects of that very same disorder.

    Simply stated, we easily forget to notice that we often impose oppression on those around us because of an oppression that we may have experienced at a different time in our lives. Unless we stop to reflect on the reality of when we slip into that victim state of mind, chances are great that we will find ourselves being party to the very same oppression that we decry. In my short life I have witnessed the worst oppression being meted out by those who viewed themselves as victims before anything else. Moments like those are often what prompted the need for recalibration. In the face of such victim-inspired oppression, it made no sense to persist in my expectation of having my rights fulfilled by one that was oblivious to it. Recalibration, at that point, allowed me a moment to resuscitate myself from the suffocation of the imbalance around me.

    I’ve also recently realised that my pursuit for balance, and therefore logical conclusions, is core to my frustrations with those around me. People behave emotively before they consider logic. I’m often reminded of the verse from the Qur’an that states that everything was fashioned in due proportion. Such proportion I believe is not limited to just our physical form, but instead, to every single law that governs our existence. When that balance is disrupted, ill health and mental strife follow, often manifesting itself as oppression, or victim-hood.

    Recalibration is therefore not simply an indulgence in seeking a meditated balance in my life. It is a tool for survival. Survival from the insanity that parades as humanity. Survival from the chaos that I am inclined by nature to unravel and restore into an ordered state. Resistance to that order is what oppresses me, which oddly enough is the resistance of a victim to contribute towards an order that they were denied, and therefore refuses to break the cycle, choosing to pay it forward instead.

    My efforts at recalibration used to be sub-conscious. In recent times it has become a conscious need, and with it, the mindfulness of what I need to surrender in the process drives my ego to resist my efforts at recalibration because of the need to sacrifice my own benefits in favour of sanity. The moment we place more emphasis on our rights than we do on our sanity, we become a threat to the morbid peace enjoyed by those around us.

  • The Reciprocation of Trust

    The strange irony of not being able to trust others is that it inherently makes you untrustworthy. If we just set aside our egos for a minute, we’ll quickly realise that trusting others is not a reflection of their integrity, but is in fact a reflection of our sincerity, or lack thereof. I think it goes something like this. We start the cycle by reaching out and wanting to trust another. They recoil at the thought of the burden that such a trust imposes on them because they doubt their ability to live up to the expectations that accompanies such trust. We see this as rejection, and recoil as well. So the next time someone reaches out to us to trust, we recoil at the recollection of that previous betrayal from another because we need to protect ourselves from such rejection again, leaving the one reaching out with the distinct impression that they were just rejected. They repeat the cycle in their little world of influence, and before you know it, everyone is recoiling from everyone else and the world becomes a shitty place.

    The cycle can’t be wished away. We can’t sit idle expecting others to trust us if we’re not willing to reciprocate that trust. I’ve seen the deflection a million times or more. People hiding behind the fact that no one understands their reality so it’s all just flowery language no matter how sincere the advice or the gesture to connect or support. Strange how once again, through such a detrimental self-image, we architect our own demise with those around us. We sit bitterly complaining to the world through our inaction and disengagement waiting for someone to magically lift us out of our doldrums because that’s what our fairy tale upbringing has taught us. But we slip further into despair when we reject every extended hand because it didn’t come in the right shape, size, colour, or packaging that we wanted.

    It reminds me of the parable of the man that complained to God that he was not being rescued by God in his moment of tribulation, after he rejected every hand that was extended to facilitate his rescue. He wanted to see the hand of God extended, but refused to accept that it was extended through others. The point is, we’re so full of crap most of the time that we judge the extended hand because the body that extends it does not meet our fairy tale perceptions of what it should look like. It’s no different to the denial of answers from others even when we don’t have the answers ourselves.

    The hypocrisy of it all erodes our self-worth in ways we only realise when we find ourselves face down in the dirt suddenly yearning for the most feeble of extended hands that we previously rejected, because at that point any hand will do. But our egos prevent us from recognising this slide into despondency because throughout that process we’re busy protecting ourselves from the reality of our fears. Funny how it all starts with the simple act of trusting, but so quickly slides into a cess pool of self-imposed depression because we failed to recognise our insincerity while blaming others for their apparent dishonesty.

    (This is an incomplete thought process…and this new editor in WP sucks!)

  • Moving on

    There’s a difference between giving up and wanting to move on. Too many are shamed into staying because someone convinces them that moving on is giving up. Holding on to a bad experience, or a bad relationship is more reflective of a poor sense of self than it is of commitment. The zombies among us are those that feign loyalty while their true motivation is grounded in guilt. They’re the same ones that are bitter or angry, some passively so, but most aggressively so.

    Too many people I know live their lives committed to fulfilling the expectations of others instead of being true to themselves. Not only do they lack any sincere belief in their self-worth, but they lack any faith in the natural order of the universe. No, this is not a load of hogwash about supposed secrets that teach us that the universe gives us what we ask for. If it was that simple, we’d have world peace and beggars would indeed be riding Arabian stallions. The law of cause and effect is the universal order that we lose sight of too often.

    There is a fine line between making a choice out of commitment as opposed to making it out of conviction. Chances are, most that read this can barely tell the difference in their lives any longer. The more we focus on fulfilling the expectations of others, the more we convince ourselves that indeed that must be our purpose, and therefore our conviction in life. How we lie to ourselves to pacify our conscience when it nags at us asking what great purpose does our life serve. The most pacifying response is to convince ourselves that we lead a life of selfless service to others. So does a door mat.

    Service to others is not sacrificing yourself, but rather sacrificing your ego to allow them to view your vulnerability in a way that strengthens them. We draw comfort from knowing we can comfort. We draw strength from knowing we can protect. Yet we’re always in search of those weaker than us, or holding on to those needing our strength, rarely realising that there are others, significant others, that need to draw on our weaknesses so that they in turn can feel strong, significant, or worthy of providing comfort.

    Sometimes we stay because we don’t believe we’re deserving of better. Sometimes we stay because we hold a deep conviction that we are able to create something better. And sometimes we’re entirely oblivious as to why we stay because we’ve restrained ourselves from moving on for so long, that we’ve conditioned ourselves to believe that every reason to do so has been exhausted, and the only rational option that remains is to stay and draw strength from the morbid comfort of familiarity.

    There is a difference between giving up and wanting to move on. I choose to move on, not because I lack loyalty or commitment, but because I demand it as well. And when it is lacking, I refuse to accept that my self loathing should drive me to believe that I deserve nothing more. My greatest achievement in life has been to rid myself of the expectation of pleasing others. It came at a price. Often a very expensive price. But the liberation that it afforded me was and still is priceless. Living without feeling obliged, knowing that every act is one of choice and not obligation, knowing that every reciprocation is one of gratitude and not guilt, and knowing that favour is not my motivator but fulfilment is. That is what moving on has allowed me to achieve. The sweetness of being independent of man, but dependent on faith only. It has made me realise exactly how fickle I am, so that I find myself praying that others around me find the same comfort in faith, because fulfilment is evasive in their services to me. And so I pray that they also find comfort in moving on, even from me if needed, if that is what will give them the sweet taste of that most lonely of liberations.