Monday 25 August 2014

This Time it's Personal ~ part 14

Of course everyone has regrets. Edith Piaf must have been a psychopath. We all, at a certain age look back on our lives and think of all the things we could have done and didn't. Maybe what I've been talking about is just normal. In that case, my thinking my regrets are unusually bad becomes a symptom of my deep feeling that how I am is always somehow unusually wrong. My life is wronger than most people's. But that still begs the question - why do I believe that? Whether it's true or not is sort of beside the point. It's the fact that I believe it so strongly, despite immense efforts to change it, that is the actual problem. Where does that come from?

I also know that being a disappointment to ones family is hardly novel. I don't know if it's going to be as much of a problem to current generations as it was for ours because modern parents just aren't that different to their kids. They don't have the same kind of rigid expectations (Tiger Moms notwithstanding) of their offspring. As I've explained at great length elsewhere, there was a kind of rift between the pre sixties and post sixties generations when I was growing up, when everything changed about what having children meant. What those post war fifties parents thought life was about (self-sacrifice, knowing your place, the importance of hard work for its own sake) was itself dismissed out of hand in the seventies and in some families at least, the rift is still visible. But at the same time, most of the people of around my age that I know seem to have got on ok without much trauma. I can't know what goes on in the privacy of their homes I know but I think I'd have picked up on at least some of it. There are those angry men I mentioned - I know them from the festivals we used to go to, the more alternative pubs in Brighton and Lewes. They were among the Crusties and the fire jugglers, djembe players and squatters of the 80s and 90s, semi employed, near homeless, in combats, tattoos and dreds. Am I one of them? I used to look a bit like one of them but I don't think I ever had that dangerous twinkle in the eye, probably because I never drank or smoked enough and I always had a nice place to live and frankly I was never that oblivious of how I looked to other people.
But the rest of my generation? The class of 1980? Mostly they seem pretty sane. I think if, like them, I'd have managed to hold down a job in banking or industry I'd have been a lot like them, with mortgages, insurance and pensions, divorces probably, but reasonably sane kids and workable second marriages. I might even be looking to retire now with enough in the bank to afford a place in France, or maybe to set up a small specialist nursery. In many ways in My Ideal Life I'd be somewhere very similar to where I am now, but via a different route - a route in which I'd actually done something with my life. This feels undeserved. As it was, despite my qualifications, holding down even a relatively responsible and moderately challenging job for any length of time is beyond me. I simply can't imagine how that would be. Why is that?

My basic feeling, as I've said, about how people feel about me is of them sooner or later realising they don't want me around. There maybe many reasons for this but in a way the reason doesn't matter. Something I'll do will turn them against me and once I begin to feel that wariness or suspicion I will become anxious and start to make mistakes. The idea of being locked in an office (or factory or shop) with these people five days a week, fifty weeks a year until I retire makes me feel sick. Once I start to make mistakes (or do things that could be seen as mistakes, or merely unusual) I will become defensive, or else too anxious to please. I'll try to explain or to apologise (depending on whether I really think I've done something wrong or not) but will almost always find that no one really wants to talk about it. Maybe it really is alright? Maybe they just want me to shut up about it. Anyway that's when I'll know I'm on probation. Now I know they'll be looking for some reason not to have me about and I'll become genuinely incompetent - unable to think straight. I'll lose my confidence. I'll become more solitary and defensive and my work really will deteriorate and the feeling of pressure will build up and all I'll want to do is go off somewhere and do my things, alone. Even if I have no money, it's worth it. Signing on every two weeks is no humiliation by comparison. I'd rather earn a living of course, but I can survive without it. In practice I've tended to work part time as a gardener, which means I got nothing from the DHSS (or whatever it's called now) except for a bit of housing benefit and my NI credited, so I didn't feel too bad. It was a safety net. Also they paid for me to resit my A levels so I could go back to uni in my 30s. In the grand scheme of dole fiddling it doesn't seem too bad but I'm far from proud of it. Mum and dad and my brother have helped me out and girlfriends have been amazingly tolerant but frankly I'm fairly ashamed of it.

This scenario has played out more times than I care to remember. One of my earliest employers told me I was 'unemployable'. Maybe he was just being nasty but it's turned out prophetic. I mean why couldn't I do that? I didn't even need to have a big impressive career. I could have just held down a job long enough to save the money I wanted to go travelling or whatever, but I couldn't even do that. Surely having a job is just something people do? People look at me like they just don't get it. Why would I have a problem with that? But I do, and I probably always will.

One of the things that sets me apart probably is that simple fact that I can just go off and be on my own, and when I do that the stuff going on in my head is simply infinitely more interesting than anything I can easily do in real life. I just don't need things and people and experiences the way other people seem to do. I think a lot of people would very quickly become bored or slobs. Even if they could think of things to do with the time they'd need the money to buy the things they'd need to enjoy them. I don't, and I suspect it's that first five years solitude that made me that way. I'd love to feel I could do these things (make friends, hold down a job, save some money) if I wanted to, but I don't absolutely need to - not the way other people do. I can do without. So that takes the pressure off. I suspect a lot of people hold down jobs because they very definitely need to. They have a mortgage and kids and a certain lifestyle to support. They don't like work but they accept it. But of course all those things are choices. You don't have to do any of them if you don't want to. It's a point I've been arguing at least since I was 12. When everyone was talking about these things as if they were just cosmic inevitabilities that everybody must face, I was saying 'But I don't want a car.' 'I don't want kids.' I wanted a woman in my life but surely she didn't have to be that costly? I didn't want to get married anyway - that way certainly seemed to lead to no good.
These are the sorts of arguments The Child still uses when The Parent comes down hard on him for making a mistake (being a bit late, having left something behind, not having got something done). 'But none of these things really matters' says The Child, 'or not that much. I don't need to work all the hours. I don't need that much money, so it's not crucial that it be done right now, today. What's five minutes? I'll make it up at the end of the day. Nobody's depending on me. It doesn't have to be perfect.' but The Parent won't listen. It's just excuses and The Child knows deep down it could have done it right, in theory, it could have allowed more time, thought it through more, made better preparations. 'But why should I?' says The Child. 'Why should I have to be constantly thinking that way, taking up all my time worrying about all the things that could conceivably go wrong (like mum does - constantly stressed and bad tempered, no time for anything good) I don't want to think that way. I don't even want to begin to start thinking that way because it sucks you in. You get lost and you never get out again, and sooner or later all your days are gone and it never makes any difference. You work longer to make more money and it just goes. You try to plan for every eventuality and there's always something else...' But The Parent still won't listen. 'No excuses' they say. 'Be prepared. A stitch in time. Never put off until tomorrow...' It's not about whether it works or makes you happy. It's just what you have to do. Everybody else does. What's wrong with you?

Behind all this I suspect is that deep nagging feeling that there's nothing you can do to make things better. Trying harder does not help, it just takes up more time and possibly just makes things worse. Above all there was (and is) this fear of getting so lost in all this that it'll take up your entire life and you'll never find your way out. Better to keep things simple. Have as few things demanding your attention as possible - just rely on simple things - the countryside, the sea, paper and pen, customers you can take or leave, Christmas and birthdays for the more expensive things. Music is cheap. Decent food is cheap. Plants are cheap. A room in a shared house is cheap. Back-packing is cheap. A radio is cheap. Second hand. Make do and mend, reuse, repair, recycle. No debts, no contracts. Living with Emma has got me a lot more Things than I'm used to but they're all paid for now and I am free again. There is even something enviable about all this - something Zen, something Environmentally Sound, something virtuous, but some part of me knows it is a cop-out - making a virtue of a necessity. Is there virtue in doing what you have no choice about? I wouldn't be a cynical greedy materialistic person even if I could (I think) but perhaps it's about having the choice.

to be continued...

22 comments:

Vincent said...

Steve, I've read these two posts several times, after copying them to my Kindle, as for several days I was unable to comment, being away from home. Even if I had access to an internet device I hadn’t brought my passwords along. So it was a good opportunity to reflect, and not rush into any reply.

Finally I came to the conclusion that you are locked into an impasse with no possibility of escape by your own volition or effort. You say “to be continued” as if a journey is to be undertaken which will reach somewhere significant, and indeed I don't doubt that the journey is ongoing and the destination is real.

Being locked in, with the key on the outside, so to speak, means that there is apparently nothing more that you can do; not, that is by thinking, reasoning, going back through your life, making plans, applying any practice, formula, scientific understanding etc. Perhaps your state has been exacerbated through habit and reinforcement of the same ideas, but that doesn’t matter at all and no action is required to unravel it. No escape plan, no advice, no teaching.

The only thing that can happen, the thing that certainly will happen, though I don’t know when, is an outside intervention which will shake the edifice and set you free. The kind of intervention which will do the job cannot be predicted. There are numberless possibilities, but amongst them are some which will have the power to set you free; perhaps only one thing. It is not possible to say what it is. Some experience or encounter out of the blue, perhaps something wonderful, beautiful & heart-warming; perhaps something shocking. It might lead to a life-long involvement in some new direction, or simply be a sudden thing, which takes hardly more than an instant in time, which changes everything, that is the way you see your life & enjoy its possibilities. Perhaps it will come in some other way entirely. You will still be you, the same unique person but it won’t be a problem any more.

There are however two things you can do in preparation for such an intervention: firstly to want it to happen, and secondly to be open to it. Neither of these is easy, especially as you have no idea what you are preparing yourself for. Wanting it to happen resembles prayer. Being open to it is like self-surrender. Letting go of control is like faith. No belief of any kind is necessary, just these movements within.

Transformation on these lines has always happened, to all kinds of person. The transformation is the basic fact. From there it gets watered down, adulterated, rationalized or vulgarized into religion and spirituality, stuff which is obviously helpful to some and a new way to get lost for others.

Anyhow, with some trepidation, I offer these thoughts, based on seeing what has happened to me. In honesty I cannot separate my own sense of well-being from certain favourable circumstances, such as having a roof over my head, no current worries about children and grandchildren, a loving marriage, good health relative to my age, and so forth. But perhaps the principle here is that absence of these basic comforts & assurances is such a distraction that we cannot open ourselves to that intervention.

When I thought of the word “intervention” I started with the idea of an encounter: a committed friend, a true love, something life-changing. The thing is, we cannot make it happen. We can only let it happen.

Steve Law said...

I still don't really understand how you can be so sure I'm wasting my time here. Oh well...

A theory - deep down you don't want it to work because you don't like the idea of the workings of the mind being accessible by reason. You want it to remain a mystery, even if that means staying unhappy. It's a kind of literary romanticism - a picturesque fatalism, and it has its consolations (the tragic figure of the poet, the misunderstood artist) but I'm not like that. I'm the kind of person that wants to try and do something about it.
Actually, come to think of it, your prescription sounds more like Waiting for Godot.

Vincent said...

Over to you, then, dear Steve.

Steve Law said...

I think the word you're looking for is 'touché' ;-D

Steve Law said...

From a friend who wishes to remain anonymous. I've had to edit it - sorry

Hey, Steve

I have been following your "this time it's personal". I've hesitated to say anything only because I don't have any good answers to offer. You delve into things a lot more deeply than I do. You've undoubtedly thought through already anything I might add.

Lots of the things you write remind me of myself. Many others remind me of R. Others remind me of other people I know. You don't seem to me all that different. Just have your own particular mix. Just like everyone does. And while chunks of what you describe could equally apply to me, there are other parts I have no personal experience with. So anything I would say there would be presumptuous. Everybody has their own demons. Some are just better at hiding it. And of course, the world is filled with people who have much worse ones than you & me. I've known plenty in my time. In fact I've lived with some. Out and out psychos. Not much comfort day to day maybe, but as demons go, yours & mine are small potatoes compared with the nut cases slicing people's heads off in Iraq and such. Does help with perspective sometimes.

A lot of the bullshit we're exposed to in childhood keeps a very tenacious hold on us. Maybe something akin to imprinting going on there with the developing brain, I don't know. Too often we spend our lives fighting with ghosts. To this day I can not see filmclips of real people from the 50's & pre-hippie 60's without a visceral hatred welling up. After all these decades the sight of those people, their haircuts, their clothes, their talk -- and the stomach still knots up. Nothing I can do about it. Knowing all of them are long dead & rotted away, and their decade with them, makes little difference. It's as uncontrollable as any other reflex. Their ghosts, and their opinions, their stupidity and meanness, are still entrenched in my head & making trouble. So I can empathize with your struggles even if I have no answers.

Steve Law said...

continued...
What you said about always being conflicted between what you want and what you "should" is a common part of the human comedy too. A lot like R. He has the same problem. The 2 little cartoon characters on opposing shoulders. He has a hard time just letting go & enjoying anything because sooner or later, like you, he feels guilty he wasn't doing something "important" instead. Too damn many "shoulds" in him. I used to joke it was because of his earnest Protestant upbringing, vs a more sloppy Latin Catholic background. And like you too, he feels he ought to make a mark in the world. Given a choice between being liked and being admired, being admired seems more important to him. I can't get thru to him that it's HIM people like, not what he can do. Me, I'm more like poor Edith Piaf -- I just wanna be loved by somebody, I don't care about being admired. Btw, you were too hard on that old girl (as on yourself). Hopelessly romantic maybe, but it does capture the headiness of "falling in love". There really are moments when perceptions flip and a lot that used to matter doesn't seem so relevant anymore. At least for a little while. Love is one of those circumstances. As is the immanence of death. At my point in life that's one that hangs on my mind a lot now. And it's had a mellowing effect. I'm a lot better person to be around than I used to be, both for others & to myself. At least at times. And that song is also about "living in the interstices" as an old friend used to call it. Concentrating on life in the good interludes between the shitty stuff.

I'll leave you with just one suggestion. Go sit back and watch The Big Lebowski again. One of my favoritest movies ever. How can you not like a bunch of lovable bozos like that? Always leaves me in a good mood again.

Steve Law said...

Hey man - thanks so much for this. I've been assuming that nobody else was reading it (nobody but Vincent, who usually comments) but it's good to get another view. I have quite a bit more to add (feel free to back out at any time) including some developments and even some (partial) answers I've come up with. What I've been doing is setting the scene (or at least trying to - in a rather rambling convoluted way) It probably seems clearer to me than it does to on-lookers. Anyway...

'You don't seem to me all that different.'
Well I never claimed to be unique. I've met quite a few people with similar-ish problems. The main difference seems to be that most of them didn't seem to be trying to do anything about it, or even want to talk about it. I realise I'm in the minority in that respect.
On the other hand, although I've been told many times 'we all have our demons', I'm not really convinced. Most people I know really aren't like this (or if they are they keep it very well hidden, and I really can't believe they're all that good actors). Everybody has ongoing problems, true (Emma doesn't like her body, Colin hates his job, Richard can't give up smoking) and everybody goes through traumatic events (bereavement, unemployment, sickness etc) but this life-long, insidious, semi-uselessness that stops me getting on in life, getting on with people, or enjoying my free time - that seems more unusual, though as you say, far from unique.
My question is, why aren't we all trying to work it out? Why don't we talk about it? Is there some great taboo? I think there might be. Or do we all just assume that it would be a waste of time?

'A lot of the bullshit we're exposed to in childhood keeps a very tenacious hold on us.'
My question I suppose is - can that stuff be re-written? or at least, put in its place (in the past)?

'Too damn many "shoulds"'
I'm sure you're right many people have this - guilt trips, martyrdom, frustration, resentment. On bad days it's almost completely paralysing.

'poor Edith Piaf'
I was unfair, but semi joking, although generally her voice grates on me so we'll have to agree to differ on that. Just wanting to be loved and wanting to do things to make people want to know me (you and Ron respectively if I understand you correctly) are both parts of my psyche. They're not parts of my personality I like - they lead to neediness and a desperate look in the eye.

'There really are moments when perceptions flip and a lot that used to matter doesn't seem so relevant anymore. At least for a little while. Love is one of those circumstances.'
Love did that for a while. But then my old self showed through (too much, because I trusted her with it) and now I'm just me again.

'The Big Lebowski ... How can you not like a bunch of lovable bozos like that?'
They'd drive me nuts. We'll have to agree to differ on that one too I think.

Vincent said...

Absolutely not! I mean that I've said what I had to say and stand by it absolutely. You have interpreted it your way.

Touché is a term in fencing, but we are not duelling and indeed we have not agreed any choice of weapon.

However, to answer thrust with counter-thrust, if you desire it so ...

You say "You want it [the workings of the mind] to remain a mystery, even if it means staying unhappy."

To which I respond "You are determined to find an answer through reason and do something about it by the same means, even if it means staying unhappy."

Of course I don't know what it is like to be you, and don't presume to prescribe anything, just do some friendly sparring, as opposed to duelling to win. I wish you to win, by any means possible. Yes, you will find your solution through your own strenuous efforts, but what I have been urging is a kind of porousness, an openness to the fresh air that blows on us all, and can blow through us if we let it, cleansing any toxic habits of behaviour or thought.

What would a scientist do? Conduct experiments. What is a successful experiment? One that proves our hypothesis right? One that proves it wrong? I suggest neither. A successful experiment is something which tells us something new, whether or not it tells us what we want to hear.

A correspondent wrote to me in an email: "As an experiment was it successful? When I go to your Perpetual Lab I expect experiments."

I'd written a post, admitted it was experimental. Then I withdrew it, largely in response to the correspondent's own comments. Yes, it (the post and the comments) was successful because it helped me adjust my trajectory.

It's a very natural thing to be defensive, but sometimes this is the very thing that ultimately wastes our time.

Vincent said...

Absolutely not! I mean that I've said what I had to say and stand by it absolutely. You have interpreted it your way.

Touché is a term in fencing, but we are not duelling and indeed we have not agreed any choice of weapon.

However, to answer thrust with counter-thrust, if you desire it so ...

You say "You want it [the workings of the mind] to remain a mystery, even if it means staying unhappy."

To which I respond "You are determined to find an answer through reason and do something about it by the same means, even if it means staying unhappy."

Of course I don't know what it is like to be you, and don't presume to prescribe anything, just do some friendly sparring, as opposed to duelling to win. I wish you to win, by any means possible. Yes, you will find your solution through your own strenuous efforts, but what I have been urging is a kind of porousness, an openness to the fresh air that blows on us all, and can blow through us if we let it, cleansing any toxic habits of behaviour or thought.

What would a scientist do? Conduct experiments. What is a successful experiment? One that proves our hypothesis right? One that proves it wrong? I suggest neither. A successful experiment is something which tells us something new, whether or not it tells us what we want to hear.

A correspondent wrote to me in an email: "As an experiment was it successful? When I go to your Perpetual Lab I expect experiments."

I'd written a post, admitted it was experimental. Then I withdrew it, largely in response to the correspondent's own comments. Yes, it (the post and the comments) was successful because it helped me adjust my trajectory.

It's a very natural thing to be defensive, but sometimes this is the very thing that ultimately wastes our time.

(sorry if you got this already, wasn't sure if it was correctly submitted)

Steve Law said...

It was supposed to be a joke. Oh well...

Steve Law said...

I've been thinking about this this afternoon and I think you may have illuminated another bad assumption you are making.
"You are determined to find an answer through reason and do something about it by the same means, even if it means staying unhappy."
You seem to be assuming that I am determined to find an answer through reason alone, as if I were some navel-gazing egg-head who has done nothing else with his life but reason. In fact I'd say I've got out and done more than many people I know. I cook, I walk in the countryside, I listen to music, I've written two novels, travelled a bit, known a lot of people, set up my own business, had lots of jobs, read a fair few books, been to clubs, parties and festivals, watched a lot of films, grown a lot of plants. Sure I spent much of my adult life at uni but it's hardly been an ivory tower sort of experience.
I don't think anyone could accuse me of not being 'open' or 'porous' or whatever. So the fact is, I'm trying both. How 'bout you?

"What would a scientist do? Conduct experiments. What is a successful experiment? One that proves our hypothesis right? One that proves it wrong? I suggest neither."
Preaching to the choir. As someone who has actually been a (trainee) scientist, I know that research is all about trying not to impose one's preconceptions on the process. Knowing how to identify one's own (tacit) assumptions is a useful part of that.

And sparring partners in fencing can say 'touché' as well. I tried to indicate my cheeky grin with an emoticon but evidently it didn't work.

And I think I'm entitled to defend what I do without it being dismissed as 'defensive'.


Vincent said...

Well if it helps I read your last paragraph with a cheeky grin.

You're entitled to do anything you like including counter-attack, without it being dismissed as "aggressive".

You're a hard nut to crack, Steve. I don't come here just to poke a stick at you, nor to argue, nor attack nor defend. I think there is a quest going on, for the Holy Grail, if you like, to be found in a dimension that cannot be spoken of, by you alone. This interests me greatly.

And it's nice to be a spectator who utters a friendly word & gets one in return.

Steve Law said...

Well that's good then.

The Holy Grail - maybe. Maybe something less mythical. I've done a bit of reading and a fair bit of living and a lot of thinking and I've always had the feeling that it's there - if only I could look in just the right way, from just the right angle...
It's about language as much as anything, and memory, and unwarranted assumptions too. Sometimes something will occur to me and I'll say to myself 'Why on earth do I think that?' That's when I know I'm on the right track.

Emma says I'm going around in circles because I seem to say the same things over and over but what I'm looking for is a connection - some new permutation among the components, or a subtly different perspective (plus no doubt I forget what I've said and repeat myself). My thinking over the years has distilled down into just a few components which, by the time I finish this, should be obvious to anyone. What I'm writing here is a history. I know the ending (as it stands - it's still a work in progress) and there's a lot of positive stuff to come. I understand it doesn't look that way to the on-looker but trust me - it will make more sense. But there's still this one, as yet irreducible thing that I'm trying to get to grips with. Maybe I'll die or lose my marbles before I find it but I have no doubt it's there and I suspect that once it's known I can change it.
I'm not a great one for self-help books and psychobabble but I actually suspect there are many of us searching for the same thing - some way to modify our misshapen foundations without destroying the house we've built on them.

And incidentally, just writing it down here, unexpurtgated, for all to see, has produced results already.

Steve Law said...

Maybe the Higgs particle?

Vincent said...

Cutting to the chase, you appear to recognize no Higher Power than Steve Law?

You say also that "I know that research is all about trying not to impose one's preconceptions on the process. Knowing how to identify one's own (tacit) assumptions is a useful part of that."

What I've been trying to hint for some time, without you taking me on, is that you are trapped in a prison of your own preconceptions. Your assumptions are no longer tacit. I have no choice but to speak plainly here. Steve Law is going to solve this problem of his own psyche, and his message to the onlooker is "trust me, it will make more sense."

It is certainly interesting to watch this swimmer who informs us that he is merely waving, not drowning, no need for any assistance from any source whatever.

Steve Law said...

I never said I couldn't do with some help.

Steve Law said...

What preconceptions did you have in mind?

Vincent said...

Do I really have to repeat what I just said?

Vincent said...

Apologies for the arrogance of my last, in assuming that what I said was clear.

My reference to "a higher power" was lifted directly from the 12-point plan for recovering alcoholics, as prescribed by AA. The whole point of which, so far as I can see is not to invoke any God, or any religion, but to foster an attitude of humility, which admits that this is what I got myself into, inadvertently, and now, in order to get out of it, I need help. I cannot rely upon my own powers.

It is true that you have not denied that you need help, but humility dictates that one admits to a kind of blindness in knowing what kind of help one needs.

Therefore one has to in some way surrender the very thing one has treasured most; which might be a sense of defiant self-sufficiency, learned and reinforced by long and bitter experience.

I accept that you may have totally valid reasons for being defiant against other people, whilst being in some ways envious of what they appear to have and you appear not to have. I've read some of your novels and of course this series of essays, & formed that impression.

When you ask "what preconception?" I can only deduce from what you have written. But I get a strong impression that you see the world as a human zoo, wherein there is you and other people. The rest of the backdrop is to be explicated by science. You have listed a number of activities which make up your known world.

But humility leaves space always for the "unknown unknowns" which may include a higher power, and may provide the essential key for the unlocking of a gridlock.

By way of example, consider a mini-gridlock, where two cars travelling in opposite direction cannot pass because there is insufficient space. One of them has to reverse. This requires humility. I saw it recently near my house. For cultural reasons, there was no hooting, swearing or gesticulation. In the end one backed down and reversed, since the other car had a queue waiting behind, and if swift action was not taken there would be a gridlock that could take some time to unravel.

So a possible preconception which you might possess is that the degree of humility which I have tried to indicate is unnecessary in the unravelling of the issues which you have so skilfully explored.

Steve Law said...

I thought that might be it. I just wanted you to be more explicit, which you have. Thanks.

"It is true that you have not denied that you need help, but humility dictates that one admits to a kind of blindness in knowing what kind of help one needs."
I agree this is a difficult one for me. Part of the problem, as I think is the case for many people, is being brought up by people who think they always know best and who give children no say whatsoever. That's a hard one to break. So much depends on 'tone of voice' but I can take advice, but not just any old advice. This is the second point. More often than not I feel that the advice people give is based on mis- or partial understanding. People think they understand. They slot me into some preconceived notion of what people's problems are and tell me the pat remedy, then dismiss me for not doing as I'm told. You, I'm afraid come in for this more than usual, because more than anyone I know since my dad died (who would have been about your age), you have this rather superior knowing tone which often comes over as quite patronising, so this is a real test for me - to face this 'tone of voice' without throwing a teenage strop. I know your heart is in the right place as I know my father's was, and that's why I'm still here, still trying. Whether you like it or not, you have become a kind of father figure.

Like I said at the beginning, there's no point in me kidding myself with half-truths because they won't make me better, and that's doubly true of other people's 'truths'. Much as I'd like to have some sort of impartial arbiter on my shoulder, unfortunately, ultimately I'm the only one who can decide what's worth pursuing. It's not that I'm being arrogant, I simply don't have a choice. I don't trust my judgement completely (hardly!) but why should I trust anyone else more?

I confess I've never really understood this 'higher power' thing. I genuinely don't know what that means if it doesn't mean some sort of God. Nothing you've said here helps I'm afraid.

I do understand humility, and maybe I'll be talking about it later. (When I said trust me, I didn't mean just blindly trust everything I say. I meant trust me as a writer because I know what's coming in the narrative and you don't.)
A mistake people make about people who come over as arrogant, know-it-all, patronising etc is that it comes from a sense of power and superiority when in fact it usually comes from a fear of impotence and inferiority. I was brought up to be humble. I know a lot about it.

Vincent said...

Well, I haven't been a good father figure to my biological sons, but then I never had a role model. Didn't meet my father till I was fifty, when he turned out to be just a bloke who when young had looked like me a little, and to whom I was his long-lost bastard. His alleged curiosity to look me up one day was overtaken by mine to look him up. I was sorry for this Australian fellow who'd never moved from Perth Australia & still worked there as a roofing contractor, having a complicated person like me turning up on his doorstep, as if I had the right to claim anything at all from him! At the time I had the romantic idea that he would make up for lost time and spring into action as a father figure. Foolish youth.

As for the other stuff, like what is this higher power etc, I have nothing further to say. It doesn't matter in the slightest. It doesn't really mean anything. Our conversations are rhetoric employed for a purpose, and not to be confused with any theories or alleged facts.

The most that can happen from human experience, I hazard, is that we may end up seeing differently. Which I think is all we need: another perspective.

Steve Law said...

I'm sure the 'father figure' thing is more my projection.
As I'm sure you'd expect, I disagree about rhetoric versus theories and facts but that difference is always there in our exchanges. But absolutely - another perspective is exactly what is needed. Many thanks for that.