1.
"Language is sequential. Thoughts are simultaneous.
Another reason why it is so hard to communicate our thoughts."
- Source: A blog
2.
It doesn't always occur to me, but when it does, I sort of observe the negative thoughts floating through my head like they are an interesting herd of animals and I'm David Attenborough narrating a documentary.
- I can't do anything right.
--> Hmm, it's interesting that I'm thinking this. I know I've done several things right recently. This must be my self-doubt talking, since normally I'm decent at inductive logic.
- I'm a failure.
--> That's a disproportionate response to a finite mistake. I wonder why I'm having this reaction? It's very stereotypical.
- Why do I always do this to myself? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
--> That doesn't seem particularly constructive.
- I can't do anything right.
--> I was just thinking that thirty seconds ago. I'm repeating myself. Boring! Let's see what pops up next...
It doesn't really stop the thoughts from happening, but it helps you distance yourself from them a bit to be a little tongue-in-cheek with your self-awareness.
It's also a recommended tactic to allow yourself to think a thought instead of suppressing it. If you can just let yourself think it openly, and acknowledge that the presence of a thought in your head does not prove its validity, it's much easier to let it go. Like if you always spend your commute trying to suppress your dread of work, try devoting half your time to dreading work on purpose and see if the results are different... it can be quite freeing, and make you see the truth of the maxim that you don't have to believe everything you think.
- Source: Somewhere on the Internet
3.
Is hard the only option? Or the best option? Maybe we think of hard as the best way because we are afraid of what may come, so we strategize in terms of armor -- putting shields over our bodies, walls in front of our hearts, and rigid structures around our thinking. But it may just turn out that by hardening ourselves we are already losing the liberty that we hope to preserve.
What about responsive, and adaptable, and relaxed?
The teeth are hard, and their hardness is useful; but the teeth chip and crack and eventually fall out. The tongue is soft, and because of that it lasts a long time. (I'm not just talking about our physical makeup here, I'm pointing at alternative approaches.) A boulder is ancient, and strong, but when water flows onto it the boulder wears down and can eventually be penetrated or split.
Rather than thinking of hardening, I like to think of a strength that is able to move and respond. When someone is strong enough, they don't have to resist the situations that arise. So I like to think in terms of healthy discipline: keeping the body and mind and emotions in wholesome states.
Part of this, especially for men but including all people, is the importance of getting out of the comfort zone and challenging ourselves. The mind, the emotional heart, and the body all become more healthy with appropriate challenges. We should "put ourselves on the line" more often, by trying difficult things. But these difficult things should be wholesome, things that increase our integrity rather than things that separate or hurt us or each other.
Physically, being exposed to the elements more frequently is usually a good and healthy tactic. It should be done within the bounds of what the body can deal with; so that means that the kind and duration of activity will be different for everyone. Everyone has a different constitution — some people are naturally tougher, some are naturally more sensitive; both of these can be beneficial qualities, they are just different.
Mentally, learning to live with all different kinds of people, and engage with all different kinds of thinking, develops an adaptability with society. We can become tougher in terms of our ability to thrive in all kinds of communities, not requiring one narrow way of life for our survival or comfort.
Emotionally, the discipline of offering your heart can likewise bring about a greater strength in terms of relating to others in the real world. When you can offer kindness or love without being attached to the response you get, then you have a very strong and noble foundation. When you can express yourself sincerely (whether it's anger, or joy, or fear, or compassion), then you will have a greater balance in all kinds of situations. It's those of us who have to hide behind a frozen self-image who are the most threatened by the changes that always come in life.
Please take this to heart: the central reason your grandpa is a hard ass is that he is himself. He doesn't try to be someone else, he just goes to pick up the newspaper in his bare feet. So if you want to be like him, you should be yourself. Learn from him and use what you find useful, but don't be a copy — be an original, following your own nature and your own physical constitution, and your own situation. If you follow your own situation, you will have the power of the world at your fingertips.
- Source: Some other place on the internet
4 (reflections on reading 1, 2, and 3).
At times like this is when I realize I am still inescapably, proudly, effortlessly, tragically, unsalvageably -- young. Please understand, whoever may be reading this (the horror!), I have wondered for so long why it was that I had such a difficult time communicating my thoughts, why I let negative thoughts pervade, what it meant to "be yourself"--and here sat, patiently waiting for me, all the answers! Now I know. What I also know is that there are others pondering these exact questions, and from reading this I not only feel a sense of validation but also a sense of community. That I am a part of a group of people with similar inquiries, and in that sense, I belong.
I am malleable. I speak with little conviction, I am open to outside opinions, I don't mind changing my views for others. I grew up on the belief that no one is static. Therefore, understanding an individual must occur on a deeper, more philosophical level. And that kind of stuff takes time. I relate to people on the basis of emotional connection, not ideological or intellectual similarity, nor cultural ties, flimsy two-dimensional characteristics such as, "we both like this", "we share an appreciation for aesthetics", "I love this artist, and you do too!" That means nothing to me, as I will change soon. And so will you.
On that note, I recall a childhood memory in a way someone might recall a short video clip. It was sometime during middle school when I revisited New Jersey after two years living in Phoenix. I moved around a lot growing up, so getting to visit an old home and retrace my steps was a luxurious opportunity. During the visit I met up with some of my old friends, who had known me since I was six; we went out to get drinks, visited some teachers, went back to childhood hotspots, and I was having a truly splendid time until my oldest friend out of the bunch commented that I had "changed so much" within the two years I had been gone.
From then on, I didn't enjoy the trip as much. My hypersensitive teenaged self began to imagine a group of friends who weren't seeing me as just me, but with a hologram of
the old me constantly juxtaposed to who I'd become. The last two days were spent trying to prove to them that I was still the same girl who played Red Rover with them during recess or practiced perfecting the cartwheel for hours without rest, and in a strange way, that was taxing too. I was no longer that person. Though I still believe, to this day, that the little girl me resides deep within somehow, somewhere underneath all the other me's.
Anyway, I guess after that incident, any self-help article telling me to "be myself" struck me as critical. I came to believe adaptability as my biggest flaw. I felt the articles were suggesting we adopt an unmoving sense of identity that, quite miraculously, succeeds all environmental changes; or have one well-thought out set of beliefs to carry us through adolescence. What I never had. I thought they meant to make a mockery of all the transformations I had had from moving to city after city, adapting to different friend circles, cultivating new personas, and telling me, "You're doing it wrong!"
What I should have asked was, what did those people mean by that?
To dote on #3, I think interpersonal relations are all about learning. Sometimes when I look at infographics that news outlets put out, what strikes me the most is how many people there actually are, mingling, building, stressing out, experiencing, right this second. There is so much to learn! On the other hand, we're also put in an interesting situation where we can only see what we
think people are like. A quote from
A Single Man (film directed by Tom Ford) says: "We are born alone, we die alone, and while we're here we are absolutely, completely sealed in our own bodies." For instance, even as I sit at Barnes and Nobles typing this up, there is a man and a woman at my table going through a Spanish lesson and I have no idea who they are. Do these two and I have anything in common? If we were to have a conversation, would I have anything to offer? What kind of a home do they have waiting for them after this, and how is it different from mine?
It's certainly an important question to ponder: what is my self-identity? How much does what others think of us have a role in our self-concept, what is peer pressure, yadi yada, blah. But I think -- for those who don't have as clear a grasp of their self-identities as others may have -- what could perhaps be a good starting point is to ponder one's self-identity in the context of one's environment, and how that may change over time. Who am I to this person? What role am I playing in this group? What can I do to help a friend? How can I make my parents, my family, happier?
I can't think of a decent way to end this.
- Source: my head
Guichanaso.
