One road going
towards the Outlets, one an on-ramp to the highway.
Sorry that the travelers of
the other road (and I) could not travel both, and being just one, long I sat at my red light
And looked down one as far as I could to where
the road bent
Then looked on at the other road, perhaps more fair,
because it looked like it was beckoning more (adventure, escape); though as for the passing there, both had been worn about the same
Knowing how way leads onto way, and how many of these cars would
not come this way again, I wondered which path they would take
In equal parts they fled to and from
civilization.
Jealous that I myself could not take the road going from, I made
ready to take the one going towards.
I am telling this with a sigh:
Two roads diverged at a busy intersection,
And I, I took the one more traveled
by,
And it has failed to make a difference.
“As adults in this culture, we continually fix ourselves
into areas of competence or expertise in order to protect against shame—and
this stunts learning, which by its nature is dynamic, experimental and includes
failure.” In their article “Inadequacy as a Doorway to Learning”, Terry Ellis
and Chip Romer suggest that a delusion exists and persists that to pursue an
avenue of work or learning we must have expertise in it; and that avoidance of failure
is our only real goal. In their article, they contrast this notion of Safety by
Avoidance to a child’s instinct to walk, and their willpower which is not
diminished by self-doubt.. A toddler won’t sit on the sofa meditatively
philosophizing on her inexperience, she just tries. She falls. But she gets back up again. In
today’s environment, young people are so stigmatized to avoid “getting it
wrong” that as adults they likewise choose only “safe” modes of direction.
The average child growing up remembers, perhaps forever,
being told what he/she is and isn’t good
at. So naturally, a desire arises to find work and hobbies that align with ones
natural ability. The other side to this, however, is that it is incumbent that
one avoid all manner of things that lead to someone acknowledging their
incompetence in some area. There is a very real fear of being found out to be
inadequate in something, for the Self sees it as a kind of stamp of inadequacy
on its very Identity. The Self knows that this must be avoided at all costs.
This delusion, which starts from someone/something external,
over time becomes internalized; after all, the greatest judge is never further
than one’s arm’s length. The result is
that many people simply avoid pathways of learning (or work, or hobbies, or
travel) that they could excel at with instruction and practice. However, they’ll
never know because they don’t even try. And that’s just sad to me. Sad for
others, and sad for myself.
1.) A Cat. For the sweetness. For the
closeness...For the laughs.
·
2.) A cup of your favorite tea. Period.
Done.
· 3.)
A Tumblr account. Because what introvert
doesn’t want to either express their heart in writing or in pictures!?
· 4.)
The
Introvert Advantage book, or other books that inspire and encourage the emotionally downtrodden among us. -to remind yourself you’re not
strange, and you’re not alone!
· 5.)
A good book to read, where the
protagonist or the narrator is coming from the viewpoint of a contemplative
introvert. (Hint: E.M. Forster does a good job in A Room with a View and Howard’s
End). This makes for ideas that are confirming to your psyche. And you don’t
get this in too many other places.
· 6.)
Have a job in customer service
where you have to constantly interact with people. Then discover you don’t have
to do it forever.But knowing that you
can do it (and maybe even got good at it) should make you feel proud. Yay life
affirmation!
· 7.)
A fellow introvert friend who
understands the introvert plight; and ganders at reasons to feel proud of it
(as if it’s a condition)
· 8.)
A Private space where no one can disturb
you, not even your cat *gasp* (well, maybe your cat). This can be your bedroom,
an outdoor area or any space that can be dedicated as your “Retreat zone”. It’s
best if it’s a space used just for the purpose as it begins to hold a kind of seldom
disturbed sacredness.
· 9.)
A comfy daybed or chair to lounge on and recover
from a long day, or simply to begin one with a sense of comfort and safety.
· 10.)
An introvert in fiction, biography, movies, or someone you know that you can look up to. Preferably more than one. Also ideally someone
who became a success despite or because of their “condition”. (Though what
introvert ever didn’t make a success of themselves if they got in touch with
their true abilities?) Then analyze the growth process they went through to get
where they did.
· 11.)
Good, relate able music. Moving lyrics or melodies
that nourish your sensitive soul (ie classical music, and other..)
.
· 12.)
An old reliable stuffed animal [or some equivalent for guys]. Yes,
children often are connected with having such items near their person. But
who’s to say us introverts don’t need just as much loving reassurance as any 6
yr old?
·13.) An artistic outlet. This seems like a no
brainer for anyone with an original molecule in their body. But honestly,
getting in touch with getting it out, whatever “it” is, is essential to your
happiness. Not to mention your health.
I’m just continually amazed by the seeming lack of
awareness or care for Philosophy. More specifically I'm annoyed at the lack of energy put into elevating the general
welfare of Society's inhabitants, who could be helped by philosophy. As if Wisdom were rated so low in
comparison to income bracket and where one buys one’s shoes.
I don’t understand.
Philosophy within Literature is even greater, *cough* Every classic work of fiction.
For there can be problems with studying philosophy in isolation.
Philosophy, in itself, is like a table set for
twelve, where guests may peruse the dishes at will: try a little of this, a
dash of that, a scoop of something entirely different, and all can commingle on
the plate in harmony (and prove a meal!). Yet by the end, there is nothing to
stop you wanting more. You leave full but not satisfied; wondering how in fact
these notions can be used to the advancement of your life. Also, there is no
end to mystery, even after all these pages (dishes). In fact the questions just
become italicized. It is still up to you, after all, to make your choices bold,
which dishes you will choose to fill to full (fulfill) your own condition.
But with Literature, there is something of the
mystery about it that demands solid determination to unearth the goodies,
distinguishing them from, and rating them above, the common fare. Because its
basis is Story, one cannot help but dive-in in interest. And what one finds
(depending on the text) is Philosophy: Philosophy robed in Gold, glittering,
parading, espousing the words of Thought as Flesh, and marking Being in
conjunction with Doing. And it is inspiring instead of merely matter of fact.
Each time you read a novel or short story, you take
on the robe of the author’s world-view and philosophy, and yet because we come
with our own, we create, through
reading, a new text, that is neither
strictly in the text, nor in our own history; but a work of fiction and reality
in its own right.
But reading philosophy AND Literature (within one or
taken as two dishes in succession) is a rounded out meal indeed! It is
appetizer, desert, and cocktail hour all in one (without any additional
calories or headaches the day after.) It is the only diet an exceptional human
being should consume regularly, and work tirelessly to ingest only the highest
ingredients. Excel at nothing but your own self-mastery; it all comes down to
these two courses. And an English major and philosophy minor should know.
I hate, hate, hate, when someone [who doesn’t know me well]
asks me about what I’m doing/going to do with my life. I just feel like, “Stop
being so nosy, it’s not like you really
care what my answer will be”. I just want to say, “Leave me alone. When I
figure it out, I’ll let you know.”
You see, the conversation usually goes like this:
Person of no consequence: “What are you going to do
with your degree?”
Me: “I don’t know.”
Person of no consequence: “What kind of job are you
looking for?”
Me: “I don’t know.”
Person of no consequence: “Well what would you want
to be doing?”
Me:“I don’t know. I
don’t know the answer to any of these questions.”
Person of no consequence:*looks at me questioningly realizing I should
know these things by now but tries to be comforting anyway* “Well, you’ve got
plenty of time...” or “how about [insert randomly unappealing job]”
Me: *Eyebrows furrow and the sarcasm leaks through* “Yeah…”
I love the movie, The
Giant Mechanical Man. Boy, is it a breath of fresh air. It’s so wonderful
to watch a movie that deals with exactly the issue I’ve been struggling with. The
loss of one’s job and the search for another is common enough in movies maybe,
but very few movies go into the psychology of why it’s so difficult for some people. And it goes deeper than
economic recession and scarcity of jobs. But the female protagonist, Janice, is
a very relatable character, in more ways than one.
Janice feels pressured to figure out her life, not unlike
the rest of us. She wants tofind the right job, the right man in her life, the
right general direction so that when people of no importance, or people of
great importance ask her what she is doing/wants to do, she will have an
answer.But Jim, or the ‘giant
mechanical man’ on the side, is the only person in her life who reassures her
that she’s “not the only one trying to figure out their life.” Janice’s sister,
Jill, constantly barrages her with questions about what she wants from life,
and in hearing no specific answer swoops in to fill the “gap” with things she thinks Janice wants. The crisis
finally comes when, at the theatre where she was supposed to meet Jim, Janice
blows up at her sister for the incessant interfering and questioning.
Jill: “Okay, what do you want Janice?”
Janice: “I don’t know. I don’t know. Do I have to know? I
mean, is the fate of the universe, like, why do I have to know? Why do I have
to be something? Can’t I just be myself
and isn’t that enough?”
That’s the clincher. Why do we have to know the answer? To
please someone else? To make us appear like
we have it all together? The goal should be to actually have it all together,
but that takes time for a lot of us;
for whatever reason. Luckily, Janice found Jim to make her feel like it was
okay to be who and what she was without having to have it all figured out.
Having friends that understand, or are in similar situations and can relate, is
immeasurably reassuring.
But, the point is, besides meeting an awesome, accepting
man, Janice’s job at the zoo turned into a more meaningful job and something she
could feel proud of. So I guess the lesson is don’t give up. You’re bound to
find people who understand and accept your struggle, and you’re bound to figure
it out some day. But you have to give yourself a break; don’t beat yourself up
for not knowing everything just yet.
The problem is, even knowing this, you still have to think of
something to say when people ask you that stupid list of questions. You could
always go for “join the circus” with a completely straight face.
As I was sitting in my kitchen eating some Ritz Toasted
Chips, voraciously licking my salty, sour-cream flavored fingers, I happened to
casually look down at the chip bag.The
bag has the typical blue and yellow encircled Ritz symbol but below it there are
some clever marketing tricks that quickly become apparent.
The title of the flavor is “Sweet Home Sour Cream &
Onion”. Pictured just above this, next to the image of the chip “enlarged to
show detail”, is a picture of a white wooden rocking chair, on a white porch,
overlooking the beach, (or some such location). Now why would this interest me? “What does it matter what
the chip bag looks like?” Well I will tell you. It deals with a topic I’ve long been fascinated with in an
off-hand way:
Home.
What is it really?
Merriam Webster Dictionary online defines it as: Ones place
of residence.
Just to be contrary, what if that place is in one’s head or
in a book, or by one’s computer? Is that Home? Is home just “mom and apple-pie”, as my own mother suggests?
One can be at home in a strange land, or at home among strangers in your own
town. What does this imply?
Merriam Webster also defines Home as a familiar or usual
setting, a place of Origin, or an establishment providing residence and care for people with special
needs.
Could we get more vague and abstract and say Home is some
place of comfort, safety and belonging, the likes of which
are yet to be found. Where can these qualities exist apart from your own house? You
may well ask. One place that comes to mind is a beautiful haven that is both
our Origin and our Destination (i.e. Heaven/with God).
My first experience with this definition of Home
came a few years ago, when I visited a state institution for people with
disabilities and the blind, who were there to be “productive” and “useful”.
But, as they are taken care of away from family, it’s hard to believe a cold
institution could be better than their own homes. The point here is I had an
experience with a mentally challenged man who talked of Home. He was assigned
to do a menial, intelligence-demeaning task like ripping the tabs off of cans
one after the other, and all of a sudden began to verbally repeat over again in
succession: “I want to go be Home, I want to go Home.”
In hearing this I got this immense rush of sadness the likes of
which I have never felt so poignantly before. Tears rushed to my eyes, and I
just felt like “I know, I understand somehow.” He was dumped there to do this
degrading work away from loving kindness; no one would be coming to bring him
home. I suddenly felt how I too had been abandoned by God, left to this
[unfeeling] world, with no hope of being saved from it any time soon. In
speaking of home, I felt that this man was speaking of a Greater Home, the likes
of which would not be so very far off perhaps; whereas for me, I knew I still
had a long way to go.
I think we all, on a subconscious level, want to go “home.” We
want to go Home to that everlasting, place of Love and belonging, but we solace
ourselves in the meantime with trivial pursuits to ease this feeling of Lack.
People (I) travel the country looking for a place to completely belong, without
having to put on a façade or hide away because of some difference. The problem
of course is we never find this place. It literally does not exist on this
plane. We have moments of feeling this hominess: in childhood for instance,
feeling the beauty of nature in a forest or field, or in visiting family after
an extended time away. But ever after we idealize this feeling, and compare
everything to it.
In conclusion, the Ritz cracker people could just have easily
called their crackers “Sour Cream and Onion chips”; but no, “Sweet Home Sour Cream and Onion” had to
be the title. This title implies that by eating their chips you will feel the
comforts of Home, sweet home, an idealized version of reality, which exists
both in our memories and our imaginations. But be it an actual site of existence,
or a place in our minds that doesn’t actually exist in this life, it is a
beautiful concept: Home. Sweet Home.
