Listen Dumbo, Get out of my Face - A Call for an Increase in Common Sense

I recently sent through a strategy document that focused on social development and received a very polite, ‘thank you very much but we don’t think you are qualified to advise’.  That’s the politically correct version, of “Listen Dumbo, get out of my face”.  The funny thing about strategy is that it needs to address the question at hand and I think the biggest and most common mistake that we make is asking the wrong questions and as a result; we define the issue incorrectly. 

It would appear that I continue to have some of my least intelligent conversations with experts. 

I dread a conversation with ‘experts’.  

I swear that something must happen after someone is handed their PhD papers.  The brain goes on leave or something.  They are the quickest to power play and seldom answer my questions (my assumption is that their expertise has run out – their assumption is that I am simply so not on their level).  Whatever the cause, it seems almost impossible to teach an ‘expert’ anything or get a straight answer.    

  

My latest conversation with a so called ‘expert’ went something like this;

“So let me understand this, you want to increase the regulation and policy on a trade that is already illegal”...

“Yes.  In order to better manage the current situation we need to focus on the policy, legal and judiciary aspects of the trade.” 

“Okay, but the trade is already illegal and statistics indicate that this intervention strategy has had little to no effect to date.  So the fact that the trade continues means that the people who are engaged in trading have little to no regard for the law, which would suggest that making more laws will have little to no impact... Thus the definition of ‘illegal’...”

The dialogue degenerated rapidly from there.  Am I the only one who thinks that making more laws to manage people who simply disregard law as a waste of time, money and effort?  Why is it that when ‘an expert’ is not able to answer your questions your qualifications and title becomes automatically relevant.  

      

One of the biggest questions that is seldom asked is:  Is it working?  Are we getting the results that we are looking for?  What is the bottom line or cause (politically correct for ‘why’?)?  

  

And so having this experience regularly has highlighted another question; what makes somebody qualified?  Somebody with experience...  Somebody with knowledge...  Somebody with an education in the field...? 

These so called ‘experts’ that we hold in high esteem are often well equipped with knowledge.  They hold a piece of paper which they earned by researching a subject that is narrow in focus and makes them a specialist in a very specific field; a ‘paper’ which somehow in today’s society places them as an ‘expert’ in some field.  But somehow, possessing knowledge and the application of knowledge seem to be different activities all together.    

There are a few more things I think should be asked of someone when holding ‘experts’ in high esteem and those are:  What is their track record?  Do they hold a stake in the outcomes that are being sought?  How do they weigh the significance of result and process?  (Working hard and producing nothing, nor should getting the results at all costs be held in high esteem)  What are their intentions insofar as contributing to the matter at hand?  Do they actually care to use their expertise in a way that contributes positively to society and achieve the results that have been prioritised?   

When a position held or expertise sought is to attain money and power... whatever the decisions, the outcomes will generally not be ones that will benefit the majority. 

This way of thinking is not new and is bound to reoccur in a society that holds in high esteem; money, position and power.

 

Another conversation of note with an ‘expert’ concluded something like this...

“Please excuse my wife as she is just not that educated you see.”  A statement followed by a condescending little pat on her arm and a flicker of hurt on her face.

 

                A statement said to the same wife who raised his children while he pursued his PhD.  A statement to the same women who got pregnant in high school with the same man and who paid her in dues in lost opportunity and a life time spent with a man who now looks down at her.  A woman who, even though he is the reason why she never had the opportunity to pursue her own dreams, is the reason he has a PhD today. 

“Yes, there we agree.  There is a fool in the room.  But it’s just not your wife” I think to myself.

Thus, my conclusion on the matter is quite simple.  There is a big difference between knowledge and wisdom and an educated fool is simply that: a fool with a bunch of papers. 

That being said, isn’t it time we start addressing the issues and the outcomes?  

Please!?!

...

- END - 

 

Those Waves of Change

At the beginning of the year, I had four garden chairs and a table...

But it has been a rough year for garden furniture.  Well – my garden furniture anyways.  You see, the plastic table and two chairs were stolen about three months back, a feat which left two wooden chairs as they were unable to be hoisted over the fence in a hurry, as they were a little bit heavier than the plastic ones.  Now plastic chairs are not usually high on the list of thievable items of choice, so imagine that those were not the initial target when the plan for theft was being hatched.  

That said, it left me with two chairs, and I was thankful that they were the better quality items of the garden furniture.  The thankfulness stems from a South African tendency to always try and consider the worst. ‘Wow, sorry about your _________ (fill stolen item in blank), at least no one was hurt’ – standard encouragement, albeit absolute bullshit, to stifle the irritation of living in a high crime zone.  So that’s nice and all, but what about my chairs?

So like a well indoctrinated local, I was thankful until a few weeks back when the river came for a visit in the form of a flood ... So while the wooden furniture was too heavy to hoist..., the same wooden furniture floats!

And my thankfulness somewhat dissipated ... 

But while sloshing through the rubble in my goulashes, I found one of my chairs tangled up in the vegetation of the neighbour’s yard, covered with mud...  and there in the back of my mind the urge to be thankful begins to show signs of life...  But no, it was immediately squashed and a basic life question... at what point do we bury the urge for gratitude and replace it with a life draining cynicism that seems to serve the embittered so well? 

The irony of life is that disaster and opportunity are often presented as the flip sides of the same coin.  Disaster is the presentation of a situation in which change is thrust upon people, unasked for and usually unwanted – but generally unavoidable. 

The question is – are we in tune enough to recognise the presentation of opportunity in the midst of it or are we too focused on what we had and the desire to go back to where we come from?  Sadly, embitterment only ensures that the coin is never flipped over.

The problem with going back is that we are assuming that there a space for the ‘back’ in the future; which by its very nature should sound the alarm bells of impossibility in the depths of rational thinking. 

But as human beings we tend to be less then rational and emotionally carry a desire to retreat to a time in which we felt ‘safe’ or at least had an illusion of agency and influence in our world.  

Ironically the life journey, no matter to what point, always begins at its present moment.  That said; I cannot help but wish for the time when the complex boundary walls were once intact as we wait with consternation the outcomes of insurance claims which seem to be taking longer than necessary...

In the mean time, it should be acknowledged that it took the river about an hour to demolish over 200m of infrastructure, a feat which will take probably about six months to recover from.        

So on the flip side of the disaster coin, there is usually opportunity.  It is just that one needs to have the courage to turn the coin over and consider the other side.    

Thus, for the moment, all I can do is simply relax with a good cup of coffee and a clean garden chair while I contemplate what could have been, but wasn’t, in the midst of broken walls, muck, make shift fences, razor wire and plants that are struggling to recover from their unanticipated mud bath.

And when that has been fully considered, take some time to deliberate what opportunity it may provide to change things that we would have been unable to change, if all was intact as it once was...

And six months from now, when all has been rebuilt better than before, I might even be thankful. 

Until then, that niggling gratitude will have to be kept to a bare minimum while I am forced to start each day with the walls down, until that too, changes. 

 

 

Life's Re-Start

So I have been a little lax... Is 'lax' even a real word?  Okay, I've gone full on missing in cyberspace.  Interestingly enough, there was no search party.  No queries.  Nothing.  

And that's way a cyber relationship is not real people... 

But that said, when I started this blog, it was my intention to create dialogue.  To open a conversation, trigger some thought and say something real. 

It was my hope that people would start to follow ideas and not personalities.  But given the number of visits to the 'blogger profile', that seems to be just a pipe dream...   

But I haven't given up hope yet...

Life experience has taught me that often social truths are mistaken for reality.  Intentions mistook for outcomes and little of what we think we know, is actually the way things are. 

Wisdom has shown me that intentions are sometimes more important than outcomes.  Social truths are things other people do not want you to question and simply accept as given, usually because they serve someone else's purpose.  And that truth, when revealed to yourself can truly set you free. 

So consider this:  

Our starting point in life is always where we are now... 

Our past we cannot change, we can only change how we view it. 

Our future depends largely on the perspective we take of our past.   

Our present determines that perspective. 

So have the courage to look a little deeper.  Ask more questions.  Change something.    

Even if its simply a change in perspective. 

 

Mixed up in Verbosity...

I had to write a professional competence exam this week and have never encountered such a poorly presented course.  I cannot help but wonder why human beings have the tendency to complicate matters unnecessarily.  Are we testing competence on a matter or are we testing the ability of candidates to discern between essential information, peripheral data and absolute bullshit.

These days bullshit detection is a skill that seems to be in high demand on a daily basis. 

And which, incidentally, seems to be something that the average adult even seems to be struggling with...

I mean really, I piqued the interest of a married man this week.  The problem was, I simply couldn't get past the idea that some men actually think they are so special that a woman should be flattered when they get ‘come-on’ by them; men, married, as they are.  Like so here’s the offer:  I have a wife and kids but I will find an hour or two a week to come and spend it with you to relieve myself. 

Wow!  Is that supposed to be flattering?  Because to me; it is not.  Not at all. 

What makes you think you are that special?  What makes you think I would allow you to use me like that?  What makes you think that I also cannot get a man for everyday of the week if I so wanted to? 

Incidentally there is a guy I know who says the majority of men cheat and he figures about 10% of women cheat.  Unless the majority of men are cheating with men...(me thinks), - he failed mathematics...      
  
Since he is so sure his wife is not among them, I didn’t have the heart to correct him... moron. 

And so we work very hard to package what we want to believe.  We end up making things very complicated unnecessarily, perhaps even to deceive ourselves.  We live in a world whereby we would like to be so different from one another, exclusive, special and so in addition to the usual excuses for discrimination like race, gender, language, etc., we have added yet another; verbosity. 

What the hell is verbosity?  You wonder.  And no, I did not make that word up.  It actually means long-winded and wordiness.  Essentially the ability to make things more complicated than necessary.  And I think it is a trend that seems to be growing. 

You see these days we have MBA graduates who still do not understand that in order to become wealthy, there needs to be more money coming in than going out.  I mean this is a concept that can actually be taught to a five year old.  But it would seem that governments and experts alike seem to be struggling with the same principle.

We try everyday to tell ourselves that we can make it alone.  But anyone who’s ever made it, had some help along the way.  Perhaps it was parents who paid for schools, a friend who opened a door, a scholarship, someone who saw potential and invested...

We have convinced ourselves that love uses people to get what it wants.  ‘Love bites, it bleeds’.  Love hurts sometimes.

And that’s the kind of bullshit I am talking about.

Love does nothing of the sort. If love is real: love does two things I am sure of. 

Loves gives and love shows up when needed.   

Its time to stop buying so much bullshit... 

 

 

Time to Talk...

I had a bit of a rough week this week and so aside from not blogging there is a running list of other things that just didn’t get done.  (I have to let people know that my blogging is likely to fall to about once a week as my schedule at the moment simply doesn’t allow me to give blogging the diligence it deserves).

That being said, I attended the memorial service of a friend who was just in his low fifties from cancer this past week.  He was a good man, but then again I have not yet attended the funeral of a bastard yet.  Either they never die or it is simply culturally unacceptable to speak ill of the dead (incidentally that seems to be a universal cultural norm).   I am not sure which, but in any case, that was not applicable here.

I couldn’t help but look at the situation and listen to this man’s friends, family and colleagues and wonder what would be said about me in my absence in the event of my passing.  Culturally I suppose nothing too ill-gotten would be mentioned, but somehow I couldn’t help thinking, that isn’t it sad that one lives their life and everyone else gets the last word on the matter?

So I thought to myself, wouldn’t it be great to plan my own eulogy.  If nothing else, I would have the last word which I think is somewhat appropriate.  It was my life after all.   

Wouldn’t it be a dream come true to have the last word where no one can argue.  You could say anything and there would be no debate.   

You can’t argue with a dead person.    

Then I needed to laugh because I would imagine the audience would go away wondering if they actually knew the person that they thought they knew. 

That, and I wonder when I would finish because I seem to have something to say about just about everything. 
 
I suppose everyone has sides, but sometimes I wonder if my life is more compartmentalised than the average person.  I have boundaries and distinctions between private, personal, professional, home, hobbies, interests, sports, academics, internet presence, etc., and there are only a handful of people who know me in more than one area.      
   
That being said, I suppose it is also possible that given the groups tend not to overlap, I could have a whole eulogy planned and even in my death be left with a lot to say and no one to say it too. 
   
So perhaps death is a good reason to keep quiet after all... and life is the time for your voice to be heard and for you to say the things that should be said. 

 

 

Icon Escapism

My friends and I went to see a soap opera actor once when he was in town.  It was a long time ago in high school.  It was supposed to be very exciting.  Truth be told, it was my friends who were big on this.  I was the tag along.  I wasn’t even sure who he was; I just knew he acted on the soap opera ‘All My Children’ which I was not allowed to watch.  I am not dissing his acting or anything, I just had limited access to that sort of information and wasn’t interested in seeking it out.  So we went and got our picture taken and got the autograph, of which I still have neither.  It went into file thirteen.  (My ex’s contribution and that is a whole other blog)  But that’s besides the point, we went with a group of friends when we teenagers.  It was fun and it was an evening out.  

But that was sort of old school.  These days, you can stalk people up close and personal in cyberspace and they ‘answer’.  My daughter and her friend were quite excited that her celebrity crush answered their ‘happy birthday’ message back (well someone did anyway).

Which I told her and she was like, “Ahhh... Mom, why do you gotta kill my joy”.

To which I replied:  “Someone has to do it”.     

I find it interesting that in cyberspace, people read and seem to comment based on stereotypes or even follow people that they think they know and so actors and singers hold some of the largest following.  Funny how people who are paid to pretend they are someone they are not carry some of the most influence in society today.  I somehow find that amusing, somewhat worrisome and definitely ironic.    

The entertainment industry has an influence on media space and the growing disconnect in society’s relationships as a result of increased individualism are feeding an icon fascination much of which is hyped, staged and fabricated.  But who cares, it makes money and creates a high level of dissatisfaction which in turn makes people spend more money to make themselves feel better.  It’s a brilliant business model.

In any case, it would appear that the cyber-community seems to have a strong desire to follow someone that they know something about and can recognise, regardless of whether the other party would recognise them back in return.  And so it has been somewhat interesting to note that the distance between ‘followers’ and ‘the followed’ feels closer than in generations past and yet is in actuality further, given that there is no real relationship present.

So someone we think we know, who doesn’t know us, we can follow.  Someone whose ideas we identify with, but we cannot recognise, we engage with, from a safe distance. 

The question is why. 

What makes us buy the perception that we really have a relationship with Celebs?    

Is it because we know more of their business then our own? 

And could that be a coping strategy? 

Escapism perhaps?   

.

Valentines Cynicism

So, you know things are bad on the relationship front when the most exciting thing you have planned on Valentines Day is to change into your old clothes after arriving home from work and going to mow the lawn.  

I know, the best I could do for Valentines flowers was to cut them out of the garden.   

Yep, that was it.  My evening on Valentines.  A bit sad, eh?  It could be, I guess, but I suppose it really just depends on how you look at it. 

Yeah, I know, none of you have ever experienced that.   

If you measure success by the presence of a relationship then I suppose I am terribly unsuccessful and that is terribly sad.  If you measure your value by the presence of a significant other then I suppose I am not so valuable either and that would be even worse. 
 
But to me it is neither.  My current status is simply a part of life's journey which provides me with time and opportunity to focus on other things.  Relationships with significant others do demand an enormous amount of time investment.  In economic terms, they can sometimes be a huge opportunity cost.  I think in my life to date, my largest opportunity cost was my marriage.  That's probably a highly politically incorrect statement but I think for many women it is probably true, even though we don't say it out loud.          

So while enjoying the evening air and the view of my garden, I have come to the conclusion that there are a few things that I have decided I totally do not miss that are frequent occurrences on the relationship front. 

The first one I refer to as the butterfly syndrome.  I have had enough relationship drama in my life time to know that often a 'significant other' is more interested in what they stand to gain by having you in their life than simply an interest in sharing their life with you and vice versa.  And so there is so much effort put into the chase and catch which is soon followed up by the 'lock them up' and put them on show when other people are watching.

You know the desire to catch a butterfly and place it in a jar.  The jar soon becomes the place that causes them to loose their lustre because they have lost their ability to fly free.
 
Yes I know, that has never actually happened to any of you.  You all speak your minds when you are not happy with something.  The problem only arises when you begin to withdraw your voice from the circumstances and that eventually will also cost you your power.

The second is those who see you as the clay from which they can create their ideal partner or as close to it as they figure they can get.  And after all the pruning, one day you look in the mirror and you wonder who the hell that is, looking back at you.   I know, that has never happened to any of you either.   

My experiences have taught me that there are very few people who have the courage to love the person they're with and see and appreciate them for who they are.  In order to do that we need to first love ourselves. 

For once, I would like to share my time with someone who sees and values me not what they hope to get out of me, even when I am in my overalls and covered with paint or experimenting with power tools,

Perhaps that is the largest case of wishful thinking there is.

In this day and age, I am beginning to wonder if there are people out there who can still do that?  

So that is my little contribution to Valentines Day cynicism, but since there are so few of you who identify, let's leave it there and hope next year will be better... 

So here's to the flowers, teddy bears (no, the damn bear needs to go), chocolates and other trinkets on Valentines Day.  

Having someone make you feel special will never get old.



   

The Devil of Procrastination

I am back to writing the day before publication. 

That is one habit, I cannot seem to shake.  The devil of procrastination.  How is it that for me the relationship between deadlines and doing is so strongly correlated?  Perhaps I need to journey back to my childhood to find the answer to that question. But I will leave that for those visits with my paid best friend, and since I am suffering cash flow issues at the moment, that will have to wait for another lifetime.  

The problem with blogging is that we are back to ambiguous attempts at sourcing last minute topics and so I thought to myself, perhaps I should have a look at blogs that are popular.  You know, put myself in mainstream market.

So let’s see, fashion..., well..., after careful consideration, I think I will just leave that up to the experts.  I personally wear clothes  (I know - that is a serious disclosure of note) and I would like them to look good, but generally would prefer to spend my time discussing things other than clothes.  I mean just how much can be said about shoes before we reach overkill?

Apparently quite a lot since society has not yet arrived at the level of overkill yet.  Some of us have lower thresholds of tolerance.  Clearly.  It was probably the playing with tractors growing up instead of dolls; ruined me for life.  Thank God. 

Alternatively we can discuss our children.  Yeah that’s good too for a while, but eventually I think those who do it too often have become too highly invested in the lives of their children to the neglect of their own.   

Or how about a classic blog on relationships?  See, relationships are a fascinating topic.  I enjoy this topic.  I just don’t think it is necessarily a topic that people are very honest about.  We do relationships according to our own unfulfilled needs and societies expectations and if you have never looked at what you are looking for or where you are going; it is generally a recipe for disaster. 
 
The ‘can’t get out of bed’ and eat nothing but ice cream for the whole weekend disaster.  Ice cream being the silver lining in the situation. 

But hey, in the mean time feel free to take the compatibility tests, learn how to seduce your man / woman (whichever strikes your fancy, temporarily) and find out which shoes will attract the right sort of relationship into your life, how to stop being the other woman / man,... blah, blah, blah.  Something like that.    

Yeah... so the change addict in mainstream is probably not such a great idea because I am of the candid opinion that the mainstream market needs to change its interests just a little.  I know, wishful thinking...    

So while we touched a little bit of everything in the time being I should confess that I have a paper to write on the relationship between poverty and governance.  I know, a little heavy for blogging, but at least this blog allowed me to do what I do best: 

A little procrastination.    

 

 

Man's Best Friend is also Man's Best Replacement

The balancing act between what can be said, what should be said and that which should be left unsaid seems to be where the boundaries of etiquette are shrouded in fog; discernible only by those who have high levels of EQ (emotional intelligence). 

The art of ‘come ons’ seem to be positioned right about in the middle.  The most savvy are those with dual interpretation which allow for a duplicity of meaning.  This way there is an avenue of retreat, should the response of the party to which it is directed, be less than favourable.

Armed with a lighter and offering to ‘light someone’s fire’ at a braai (BBQ), has a definite double meaning and you will likely get away with it.  Albeit, you would be pushing your luck.  Saying that in the workplace, probably less than easily ‘back-peddlable’.   

I suppose those who regularly push those boundaries become exceedingly practiced in which case gives rise to yet another phenomena; heightened levels of charm and lowered levels of substance.  The problem with charm is that it is generally a reflection of an inner need to be seen and noticed which contributes substantially toward that same charm being readily and freely available to anyone with the slightest indication of interest. 

In lay-mans terms: ‘a player.’

And since I encountered one this week, up close and personal, the only conclusion I was forced to come to is that 29 is definitely too old for ‘that shit’.               

The good news is that 29 is not too old to be ‘come on to’.  So it was a little flattering.    

The bad news is that the quality of the selection of men, as time passes by, seems to deteriorate.  The good ones get taken.  So, I know it’s not a politically correct thing to say but; I have almost concluded that I should be looking for a man with a dead wife. 

And not just any dead wife because that too can be risky.  These days, even the circumstances around the death need careful consideration.  One that died in an accident.  And not any ‘accident’ either; you know what I mean.  Consider Oscar.  ‘Accidents’ involving bullets don’t count.    

So the long and short of it is simply this.  By the time you reach ‘29’, the pickings are thin. 

But despite that, what I do know is that the right man is still important and that life has taught me that it’s better to get a dog, than have the wrong man around. 

I mean dogs are great.  They are always happy to see you when you get home.  They know when you have had a bad day, understand that they must simply listen and not try and fix the problem and would lay down their lives to protect you.  

They will happily keep you warm and are content to simply curl up at your feet. 

Many a man could learn something...  

 

            

Peppered in Doubt

Finding myself in the midst a classroom this past week, I was reminded that the world I see is perhaps not the same one that most other people live in. 

They say that there are characteristics that get more entrenched with age and in this case it was highlighted in neon.  I have an inability to simply conform.  I have a seriously hard time doing it if it doesn’t make sense to me. 

You know those situations when you become acutely aware that the way you view the world is not the same as what the average person sees.  When everyone is going left, and there you are on a quest to the right.    

I wonder sometimes if we all taste the same things?  Or whether or not we all see colour the same?   

I think I am convinced that different people attune to different information in the same circumstances.  What I find relevant and what someone else finds relevant are perhaps very different things. 

I suppose too that any information we receive is also passed over an internal processing system and in my case it always comes right back to ‘why.’   

I suppose God already knows what has crossed my mind so why not be honest about it and say it out loud.  A part of me doesn’t really think that there is too much difference. 

Another part of me recognises that the differences can be very real, with far reaching consequences.

But what seems to get me in trouble the most, is the speed at which I see the consequences of something.  Sometimes I wonder if other people see it , if I am alone, or if I simply just make this crap up for the fun of it and irritate myself. 

Whatever the case, this seems to be the operational point from which I start; the root cause of my change addiction and my inability to simply keep quiet and watch things happen.    

My mother, bless her, still rolls her eyes at me and says, “must you always try and change the whole world?”

“Well..., yes, Mom”.    

I mean this is my Mom.  Surely by now, she should know that there are things that just simply need changing!  If anyone has known me my entire life, she should know...

To be honest there are days when I sometimes wish I could simply wait and see things unfold as they happen like I perceive the majority of people seem to be doing. 

And perhaps that perspective is wrong.    

What I do know, is that often I see decisions that are made that people are uncomfortable with, that are justified externally with layers of intellect but internally peppered with enormous seeds of doubt. 

Sometimes, I just think that it’s the doubt that should be given the platform a little more often.

Someday... Girls Might Just Grow-up

“The girls that get chosen for the basketball team are the ones who look good in their uniform” I am candidly informed by my niece (14).  Sadly, there are high schools fifteen years later (plus-minus) that still exist in a time warp even worse than the one I attended. 

Now that is still tragic.  When it is no longer about the sport and even there out on the basketball court, it is about how you look, I wonder what women will be doing in twenty years, if anything at all?  When will it be about what you can do and not what you look like?

Yep, the change addict is an ugly duckling, you’re thinking... so many words, so few pictures; there must be a reason...

Imagine if both genders functioned like this.  A whole world of very pretty but entirely useless people.  A booming beauty industry, but that is about all there is.  The pursuit of beauty the be all and end all.  Lots of plastic surgery and the endless pursuit of the fountain of youth. 

Yep, that’s it, she’s one of those, ‘nice’ girls.  You know all personality, not too much else...

If women were placed in a ‘separate development’ social construct, I fear that many would be living in shacks, well because engineering would be beyond our intellect or at least our interests, the roads would collapse and never get repaired, because well... we wouldn’t want to break a nail.

I understand that given biology, the survival co-dependency between men and women ensures that this scenario will remain a case of gross speculation and little far-fetched. 

But isn’t that what women have been sold?  Check ‘women’s magazines,’ it’s not all that far off.    

...Oh dear, even worse, the change addict must almost be a man... must be... No ‘good-looking’ woman would talk like this...   

I cannot help but ask myself is this really the fruit of the hard earned women’s suffrage movement and the generation of women who determinedly burned their bras in their quest for equal rights? So women can now vote, but their value still comes from how they look not what their accomplishments are, what they stand for or who they are. 

Amelia Earhart was the first woman who flew solo across the Atlantic, but just how good did she look in her stilettos?    

What saddens me most is that places our value as women externally.  It is based on someone else’s approval and the question is:  Why would you give somebody that sort of power over you? 

This culture of ‘haters’ needs to go.  Talk about debilitating. 

...Yep, must be a man...  

The inability to see value, talent and potential in another human being says more about the person seeing than it does about those being seen.  It says that they are unable to see intrinsic value in themselves and in order to make themselves a little bit bigger, they have the need to look down on other people and make them small. 

That attitude also guarantees nothing will be accomplished that is bigger than we are. 

And no, I am not a man, I have a biological daughter. 

Science may be good... but not yet that good! 

 

 

The Seeds of Worry - the desire for change

Between the two sayings, “Don’t worry, things will get better” and “Stupidity is continuing to do the same thing and expecting different results;” which one is actually true?

There is something about these statements, I find inherently frustrating.  Aside from the blatant contradictions they seem to imply, they somehow enable the person who utters them an air of condescending wisdom and intelligence and yet place the recipient in a position of passive acceptance and a state of an implied dullness of mind. 

They are not at all empowering.  And yet they sound believable, like they should at some level be true.  They simultaneously imply a pearl of wisdom that is present and yet evasive, leaving you with exactly nothing to go on.  Advice that simply cannot get better from the condescending throne of implied infinite knowledge and wisdom and yet cannot get worse given its chronic uselessness in reality and practical application.       

Could it be that “don’t worry, things will get better” is a statement that refers to the natural passing of time, which in turn, has the capacity to change things?  Or perhaps, its intent is to remind humanity that worry itself is neither conducive for change nor the happy passage of time.  And that in and of itself, worry is essentially an activity that is non-productive.

And yet on the other hand, the other statement suggests that a continuous course of same actions will yield the same result which would essentially undermine and suggests that the previous statement is perhaps a false one.

 A statement aimed at relieving the spokesperson from any responsibility in the circumstances.  “Don’t worry things will get better,” usually combined with a pacifying pat on the back.  A statement of false information.  One intended to build false hope and false expectations.  One that exonerates them from taking a course of action that would directly involve them in the course of events causing the state of worry to start with?  One intended to pardon their lack of interest and involvement in something.  Whatever that something might be.      

An excuse.

A declaration of distance. 

A polite way of saying, ‘please just do not involve me in this thing’. 

Alternatively consider the validity of the statement that “stupidity is continuing to take the same course of action and expecting different results”; is that true?  It can be.  In mathematics it’s a true statement.  Often in relationships it is also very true.  But there are times when taking an umbrella to work may be useful one day and unnecessary the next.  Thus, the same course of action yields different results.  So perhaps this statement holds true in circumstances where the variables are held constant but not always in cases where we do not control all the variables.  And life, as a rule, tends to fall in the latter category. 

And thus the time factor becomes relevant yet again. 

Time seems to be one variable we cannot control. 

Thus could it be possible, that the issue here is actually neither and the questions we are asking: the wrong ones. 

And so perhaps the question needs to be; for how long?  For how long are we willing to tolerate the state of worry or for how long are we willing to take the same results again and again by following the same course of action?

Isn't worry itself a state of ‘wanting change’ and not having the courage or the course of action within reach to pursue it?     

Is stupidity than just a higher level of commitment to a repetitive course of action? 

And so the question we need to be asking is: for how long? 

How long before we change it? 

 

The Power of Voice

It used to be that you went to the salon / saloon when things got tough.  It sort of depended on which was more socially acceptable at the time.  The chat and support was free (over a beer or under your curlers) and so you would emerge a few hours’ later feeling better (in theory, on a good day anyways).  A casual 'go over' of trauma with the intention of moving on. 

And because we developed or regressed (depending on who you ask) as a society and no longer had a collection of friends to talk to when things got bad, we created an industry and called it therapy.  A Rent a Friend for an hour and a fee.  Also known as ‘Psychologists’.  We even trained them in the art of friend like activities; active listening, issued them with a code of confidentiality and forbid them to take advantage of anyone during that state of mind and sometimes, just sometimes, we were offered ‘professional’ advice. ‘Professional advice’ based on the reading of a textbook of cases most likely never experienced first hand.  A now formalised rehash of trauma in the effort to move on. 

That being subject of course (the moving on) to just how much the same psychologist wanted to keep you coming back, for ‘your own well-being’ of course.

It used to be somewhat ‘okay’ to be in therapy.  A little more accepted where I came from than it is here.  You know a pat on the back and a ‘muttered under the breath out of intended hearing;’ “thank God, it’s about time that crazy chic went to therapy”.  You know, generally supportive.  Well, in public anyways. 

Here, they simply tell you, you have issues and that the issues themselves do not set you apart from anyone else; and so just what makes you think you’re so damn special.  A whole country with trauma (not the only one mind you, but that is whole other blog).  And so therapy would only suggest that you have economic means to elevate yourself as part of a more privileged class than the average person on the street.     

And thus I do believe, we have evolved one step further, and are now in the era of an editor.  First of all it sounds a little more ‘classy’.

 “No, I won’t make it.  I’m off to see my editor.  Busy with the final rewrite.” 

I figure, if one needs to go through the whole process of giving the pain you experienced a voice, you might as well go for the full Monty, do commercial and write a book.   

It is a written rework of trauma and trust me, by the time the process is finished the experience will have been felt, re-felt, cried over, rehashed, revisited, gone over, examined, analysed, rewritten, evaluated, scrutinized, etc.  You’ll be so tired of the whole thing, you’ll simply move on.        

But despite that, there is one thing life has definitely taught me; pain is one thing that does not bottle well. It has a way of coming out and if you won’t give it a voice, it lays claim to the well-being of the other areas of your life; your health, your relationships, your finances, etc.    

And so, I recommend giving yourself a voice because if anyone is going to reap the silver lining from the ups and downs of life’s journey, it might as well be you. 

That voice may not be in the form of a book, but allowing your pain to speak will at least free you to live a life having grown and moved on from your hurts.     

 

The Novelty of Newness

New things can be exciting and stressful, but one thing for sure, newness does not last and novelty disappears soon after it's started. Take this blog for example, I was going to be ambitious and committed and write in advance.  It’s now the night before publishing time.  Late. And here I am Racking my brain for something to say.  Now it also doesn’t seem to help that I am talking into random cyberspace, but that is another blog all together.   

This is a new year, but already the novelty has worn away and we are getting about our daily business and trying to desperately remember to write 2014 instead of 2013, which in our repeated attempts to adapt, is already getting old.     

And so 2014 is starting with quite a few ‘new’s’ for us; a new office environment, a new school for my daughter, and so new people and new goals... new expectations and new decisions that need to be made, new schedules... etc.      

And while it can be exciting, there is a desire for a little more of the mundane as we scramble to adapt.  And by mundane I simply mean things in life that are expected.  All cannot be new forever.  Thankfully.  

Constant newness would be exhausting. 

As with most things even a new car loses its lustre.  Slowly the ‘new’ experience of driving it, after a few months, becomes standard.  And a new baby loses his or her novelty even faster.  Two nights of no sleep and a few poopy diapers will do it. 

And so he or she remains novel to those who have not yet met or seldom care for him / her.  Trust me, there is nothing like losing your status in your mother’s eyes than by giving birth to a grandchild.  “Ohhh, look at her.  She is soooo cute.  Come to Oma”.  “It’s nice to see you too Mom, I’m well, thanks for asking”.  You call at her retreating back after she’s taken her grandchild out of your arms.  Its a serious change (downgrade) in status.  From 'daughter' to 'mother of my grandchild.'  A serious indication that your novelty has worn off.

I am by no means measuring their value against one another.  If the new car smelt bad after a few hours and kept you from much needed sleep, it would lose its novelty much quicker too.

I suppose the joy of newness is that it serves as a reminder that you are still alive and growing; still on the path to somewhere, even if the somewhere itself is somewhat obscure. 

I am grateful for the ‘new’s’ thus far.  Thankful that anything ‘new’ keeps me away from the ‘same old’, ‘same old.’ 

Too much ‘same old,’ ‘same old’, cannot be healthy either.  

So hopefully the ‘newnesses’ still awaiting us in 2014 will indeed be those of blessing and serve as a reminder that life is a journey, not a destination.   

And I suppose that that is really what is meant by 'Happy New Year.'  

And so Happy New Year to you all.