I write this blog for me, and write at a harried pace just to get all my possible ideas down. Also, I've been impatient and lazy about slimming, and trimming blog posts for other's eyes. I had been submitting an article a week to the editor of a newspaper back home until I got discouraged and quit. Up until then, I had submitted an article a week for 6 whole months, minus 2 or 3 misses. For all that time, all I got in response was 'thanks', and one time 'nice picture who took it?' from the editor. I knew something wasn't working, as I remained unpublished. Was it me?
I failed to do the one thing I didn't want to do, or was scared to do: really talk to editors. Through all that time, as I was uncomfortable calling these editors, I didn't really know what articles to write, or how the system worked, I just started writing. No wonder I got upset when it wasn't going the way I planned, which was having editors across Canada absolutely love my writing, and see value in my journey. Anything to do with money, or some kind of social success requires me to do things in a way that people find attractive, or at least push for my way of thinking with persistence. I wonder how many students go through 4 years of university to get a good job like I did only to realize they didn't do the most important thing: build relationships with employers? Anyone who got a job because of who they know could argue how much easier it is.
So, I finally sent some of my writing through to an established writer and she ripped it apart for me, for $25/hr. Luckily I've had some practice on hearing things I don't want to hear. There were too many ideas, too confusing, sentences too long. If I'm going to skip journalism school, and Literature etc., I'm going to have to be an expert in dealing with people: asking questions, pushing a bit, knowing when to pull back. If I'm going to jump into something, like writing, I've got to be prepared to face the music too.
Quote of the Day: Turn me into something else, writers of the world. Make me Muslim, heretic, hermaphrodite. Put me into a crusader's armor, a cardinal's vestments. Let me feel the pygmy's heartbeat, the queen's breast, the torturer's pleasure, the Nile's taste, or the nomad's thirst. Tell me everything I must know. Hold nothing back.
--From Pat Conroy's "My Reading Life", taken from Freelancedaily.net
I really applaud anyone who has ventured through this blog, and searched through it to find their own opinions. I have not written for ignorance; I have written for me. But, I would like to write for you, too, someday. To do that, I must practice patience, humility, understanding and acceptance. I understand that you don't know all the background, and for not being where I'm at, you will need a bit of hand-holding to bring you to where I'm at. But I do use this blog as my vent piece, and my idea generation, after all.
I could debate the value of a university education, compared with 4 years straight of working in the profession you like.
I could debate the moral implications of medicating people with ADD or other personality 'disorders' versus actually helping these people train themselves to live productive lives, and how to bring their own unique gifts to society, or quick fixes versus overall longevity of a healthy society value, and impact
I'll start with Tiger Woods. Imag
ine this little boy who only wanted to please his father Earl. Earl didn't have some magic genetic test to see if Tiger was going to be a professional golfer, not at least the best ever to walk the earth. I beg you to find the 'professional golfer' gene in the human genome project. Earl was not given the opportunities to be a professional, and he was bound and determined it was not going to skip a 2nd generation. Before the age of 5, when at least 75% of a human brain is permanently wired, that boy had not only a golf club in his hand, but was hitting balls, and playing golf. His dad named him Tiger for god's sake. Earl did not have time to teach Tiger, or scold him on misbehaving in the church choir, or hurting his sister's feelings. Tiger was built, day by day, daddy love by daddy love, to be a golfer. His story is not rare in the sporting world: Matt Dunigan, an ex-CFL quarterback, was said to not only be unable to cook, but unable to boil water. Grown men, groomed for one job, and one job only for their entire lives, but simply retarded in any other form of social responsibility, or self-care. It's perhaps why some professional sports players fall into a deep depression after their career is over. Because they just don't know how to do, or to live, in any other way.
And yet our society deems professional sports players to be the best heros for us and our children. Meanwhile, 30% of our food and clothing costs goes towards advertising and marketing, of which a portion goes to people like Tiger Woods. It takes a lot of people's dollars to make $90 million in endorsements every year. Think of it this way, everytime your kid takes a bite of his Wheaties cereal, a few pennies goes towards Tiger's prostitutes. Now let it sink in. Something Kellogg's will shy away from telling you.
Now, to anxiety and depression. Mine has formed in a similar way to Tiger's learning golf, actually. My first 5 years involved running around in the trees, riding horses Lone Ranger style, catching shrimp, sitting on greyhound dogs, cutting chickens heads off, quietly reading books, playing with myself (not that playing with myself, until later of course), day dreaming, helping out where I could. We didn't have any big parties, except maybe once or twice a year for Xmas or something. I was not groomed for anything except being a 'good boy'. There was no training about discipline, or determination, or persistence, or business models. Only to do what I was told, and be well-behaved. Pretty normal, I think.
12 years of schooling goes by, with me thinking of being a veterinarian, park ranger, Marine Biologist all those years, because that's all I knew. Suddenly, after a 10 minute decision, I want to be a businessman! My parents trusted me to make my own decisions - I had good grades and was well behaved so obviously I must know what I'm doing! But what really happened is I made a decision that completely ignored my natural skills and talents, and upbringing, and home environment. So, I spent the better part of 20 years learning about business, and then trying to learn why I couldn't do business, and actually hated business.
Sure, I reached for the stars allright, and did some pretty fantastic things over 20 years. But I was miserable for most of it, riddled with anxiety constantly doing things I was uncomfortable doing, and trying to keep up to people I thought were better than me. It was a valiant fight, but when my body started falling apart, and I couldn't sleep, things were out of my control, and I couldn't force it anymore. I had to either just take a job to recover, or fight some more. Fighting some more always took a lot of energy, because it was borne out of fear.
All of my childhood friends I grew up with have stayed close to home; farming, welding, warehousing. Not me! I wanted to do something MORE! I was SPECIAL. Hmmm.....
Ok, so if I wanted to do something different, I really had to find some new mentors. There was the achilles heel; I was scared of bothering people, and scared to ask for help. Weird. If you have strong people skills (which I do) you need to also learn to stay calm, and look calm, and feel calm around them (which I didn't). After all these years, I've learned people skills, and I've learned how to stay calm. It would have been easier to just be the same as my friends, live in my small town, and just do a simple job........... but I've always been a curious soul.
Some fine-tuning required........... as mentioned a claustrophobic need not conquer their fears in a gold mine. I don't need to conquer my people fears with 15 students facing me every day, or having to sell to over 25 ornery warehouse managers every day. I can conquer them in my own way, with family and friends, and small steps. Patience, humility and self control are just critical if one ever intends to do something you are completely unqualified to do! But there is certainly nothing as quick and effective as 'throwing onesself into it - just be prepared for some serious downtime and reflection to cope with the stress.
Finally, I was watching an ant colony this morning. We're just north of the amazon but there's still very exotic creatures here, and these ants had very large pincers. I only saw one warrior ant that had a head on it 3x as big as the others, who were methodically bringing balls of sand out of the hole. They would place each ball on the edge of the ring, building it up. Another ant was found on the outskirts of the ring, cutting down grass, one blade at a time. Over 15 minutes, he worked away at it, then brought it all the way back to the colony, leaving the blade beside the hole. He travelled the distance of a football field for us with a piece of grass as long as he was, and almost as heavy. Then, he went back for another.
His day wasn't filled with worry about whether or not a car was going to drive over the colony and flatten them all. Some ants DID travel a great distance to come and investigate what I was doing there, but for the most part they just did their jobs. I realized I can't be an ant. I have to think, I have to look, I have to warn and educate people about the world around us. I like to study, and understand how and why things work. People like me need to feel we are doing something good for our tribe, too. I guess, in the end, I don't ever underestimate people's intelligence. I just wonder sometimes how often we really take the time to think abou
t where we're going. We are not ants, but we act like it sometime. We must all be able to stop sometimes, and take an honest look at the world we are creating, or destroying.
