I haven't posted anything for awhile. To be quite candid, this time of year is a bit of a downer for me. I love summer, love the simplicity of it, love the long days. School starts, and I suddenly find myself drowning in a deep pool of melancholia. The kid's getting older. I'm getting older. The world is in sorry shape, the economy continues to founder in spite of what MSM tells you, and I'm pretty much expecting that in my lifetime, my homeland will be overtaken by hostile forces.
So. You'll see why I've been biting my tongue. Nobody wants to read that sort of thing. I'm the kind of person who sends others scurrying away from the water cooler when I approach.
I'm still in that low place some days, but I had an enjoyable moment recently when I was re-reading an old classic from high school. George Orwell's 1984 is just as appalling and brilliant as it was when I was 16. I was inspired to read it again, along with some other old titles, because I've run into some pretty common, unimpressive books lately. Some have been freebies on my Kindle, so I guess I should have expected substandard sentence structures and flat characters. But still... Somebody, somewhere, published these books. They can't all have been self-published. One of them was so flagrantly incoherent and non-cohesive that I was tempted to look up the author—and was smacked in the face by review after review (by readers, for what those are worth) that sang the praises of this particular woman and her various self-centered, narcissistic memoirs.
Really? I mean, she wasn't absolutely terrible, but she skipped around, she didn't develop anything fully, the order of events was difficult to follow and often left matters unresolved... It wasn't good writing.
I started dissecting other recent books that had disappointed me... and then I gave up because I'd figured out the problem: I'm a former English major. I have taught some of the most amazing authors, after having been immersed in them, and likely because of that I began years ago to expect greatness from the written word. That's not to say I loved all of them, but constant exposure to true talent caused me to raise my standards across the board, regardless of writing style, point of view, or syntax. I'm not a fan of Tolkien, but I can appreciate his flair for description. I never liked Poe, but he could create a macabre setting better than almost anyone. Steinbeck's characters have stayed strong in my mind for decades. Welty painted a warm, slightly uncomfortable picture of the South.
My point is that the classics have become classic for good reason—at least most of them. Those guys and gals could write. They were masters of the language, and they understood that every aspect of writing matters. It isn't enough to be emotive; fantastic word choices won't save a poor plot. Characters I find to be unbelievable will become characters I don't care about enough to finish reading the book.
So you see why I've been spoiled. Poor literature is beneath me. Life is too short. And the lazy part of the post title? I've reached middle age now, and I've grown more choosey about how I spend my time. I've always been a believer in reading a book I love many times instead of trying to read as many different books as possible. These days, I feel even more strongly about that. My favorites? I've revisited them over and over. Some of those more recent releases? There are some great ones, but a whole lot of them are pretty shallow and temporary, and I'm decided that I don't have the energy to bother finishing them once I've determined that they're lacking. Which, according to my way of thinking, doesn't make me truly lazy—just discerning and decisive.
I suppose if I'm going to be spoiled, then this is a more desirable form of it than most.
Showing posts with label character. Show all posts
Showing posts with label character. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Friday, May 28, 2010
And the worst fault is—
There are certain human qualities that are acknowledged by most as troublemakers. Greed, perhaps. Selfishness. Narrow-mindedness. These are considered by a majority of folks to be unattractive and undesirable characteristics in a fellow man. But there’s another, less obvious trait that also causes trouble. B-I-G trouble. What is it?
The need to be liked.
Many people struggle daily with this need. Most kids feel it strongly in the form of peer pressure, which unfortunately seems to be hitting at an increasingly younger age these days. There is a yearning in many of our youth to feel acceptance, to know that people like or perhaps even admire them. And yes, a hopefully smaller dose of that yearning remains active in many of us well beyond our school years. No one enjoys being slighted, or uninvited, or avoided. People like to be liked. It feels good.
But I want to believe there comes a time when adults stop seeking this out exclusively. People age, and approval shrinks as a motivating force. I’ve often said, and continue to say, that the only really good thing about getting older is that I care less and less what people think of me. It’s liberating. It permits me to do what I believe in, to try to truthfully represent what I stand for instead of being swayed by every mindless human trend.
I’m disheartened to report that I'm beginning to notice there are plenty of adults who still feel deeply the need to be liked. It’s becoming a real problem.
I noticed it when I taught school years ago. Heck, I suffered from it briefly. It was hard to be as strict as I needed to be, because I wanted those kids to like me. I wanted them to think I was cool, hip, informed. It took very little time, however, to realize that this was impossible. I had to ignore that entire aspect of the student/teacher relationship. I had to be the bad guy. A lot. I had to call parents, I had to assign detention, I had to give zeroes for no effort. Some of them hated me. But all of them began to listen. Happily, this is a problem that tends to iron itself out for most who choose education as a profession and stick with it for more than a couple of long-suffering years. There are exceptions—I witnessed them—but they were few.
Bosses are another breed. And co-workers. Everyone can think of some colleague who'd fall without question into the category of bum-kisser. Sometimes it's an underling who's trying to climb that ladder with more speed; other times, it's simply a weak-willed leader who cannot and will not force the people for whom he is responsible to do what is required in an acceptable fashion. It's painful to watch employees take advantage of such a person in charge. Yet, I know it happens daily.
Parents sometimes display this unfortunate trait as well. When a person reproduces, life for that person changes forever: suddenly, the good of the child is the most important thing. No longer can decisions be made simply for the sake of one’s own comfort and safety and interest. Now, a child's welfare and future determines many outcomes. Steps must be taken according to what will best prepare the child to be a responsible, caring, contributing adult someday. However. If a parent still feels an overwhelming need to be liked, that need presents huge obstacles in that parent’s ability to exact punishment, to maintain established consequences. The parent, if more concerned about a child’s approval, will surrender time and again to the child’s demands in order to be the kid's friend. And that’s not good for any kid.
And now. The worst example yet, I believe: world leaders. To be precise, our own leader. He is so uncertain and unschooled in the strengths of this country, of what made it great, that he hesitates to defend it even to the most insidious infidels of the earth. He speaks with disdain and disrespect of our forefathers. He embarrasses us with crass statements, with trendy gadgets as gifts for his contemporaries (I've read that the gadgets featured "greatest hits" by his very self—I don't even have the stomach to confirm those rumblings); he bows to other religions while still tipping his hat, in mocking fashion it seems, to the very beliefs that built this country and that he claimed to embrace. He apologizes for our successes, downplays them, instead of climbing atop them to maintain his role as leader of a force with which to be reckoned.
The need to be liked brings about no good, especially in so-called grown-ups. It will most certainly elicit contempt from your enemies as they watch you prostrate yourself before them; likewise, it will bring disgust and shame from your allies as they step away to disassociate themselves from your ingratiating performance.
Perhaps this is why our founding countrymen specified a minimum age for an acting President. They assumed that by 35, a politically aware and educated person would have begun to shake off the shackles of youth and would no longer seek acceptance and popularity over common sense and duty.
I don't think they made the number high enough. Additionally, extreme arrogance in said person seems to further compound the confusion about priorities. Next time around, could we somehow incorporate a maturity quotient requirement into the mix? A wisdom requirement of some sort? Or an ethical one, perhaps... Problem solved.
Oops. I promised this wouldn't be that sort of blog. Alas, my "coming out" day grows nearer and nearer...
The need to be liked.
Many people struggle daily with this need. Most kids feel it strongly in the form of peer pressure, which unfortunately seems to be hitting at an increasingly younger age these days. There is a yearning in many of our youth to feel acceptance, to know that people like or perhaps even admire them. And yes, a hopefully smaller dose of that yearning remains active in many of us well beyond our school years. No one enjoys being slighted, or uninvited, or avoided. People like to be liked. It feels good.
But I want to believe there comes a time when adults stop seeking this out exclusively. People age, and approval shrinks as a motivating force. I’ve often said, and continue to say, that the only really good thing about getting older is that I care less and less what people think of me. It’s liberating. It permits me to do what I believe in, to try to truthfully represent what I stand for instead of being swayed by every mindless human trend.
I’m disheartened to report that I'm beginning to notice there are plenty of adults who still feel deeply the need to be liked. It’s becoming a real problem.
I noticed it when I taught school years ago. Heck, I suffered from it briefly. It was hard to be as strict as I needed to be, because I wanted those kids to like me. I wanted them to think I was cool, hip, informed. It took very little time, however, to realize that this was impossible. I had to ignore that entire aspect of the student/teacher relationship. I had to be the bad guy. A lot. I had to call parents, I had to assign detention, I had to give zeroes for no effort. Some of them hated me. But all of them began to listen. Happily, this is a problem that tends to iron itself out for most who choose education as a profession and stick with it for more than a couple of long-suffering years. There are exceptions—I witnessed them—but they were few.
Bosses are another breed. And co-workers. Everyone can think of some colleague who'd fall without question into the category of bum-kisser. Sometimes it's an underling who's trying to climb that ladder with more speed; other times, it's simply a weak-willed leader who cannot and will not force the people for whom he is responsible to do what is required in an acceptable fashion. It's painful to watch employees take advantage of such a person in charge. Yet, I know it happens daily.
Parents sometimes display this unfortunate trait as well. When a person reproduces, life for that person changes forever: suddenly, the good of the child is the most important thing. No longer can decisions be made simply for the sake of one’s own comfort and safety and interest. Now, a child's welfare and future determines many outcomes. Steps must be taken according to what will best prepare the child to be a responsible, caring, contributing adult someday. However. If a parent still feels an overwhelming need to be liked, that need presents huge obstacles in that parent’s ability to exact punishment, to maintain established consequences. The parent, if more concerned about a child’s approval, will surrender time and again to the child’s demands in order to be the kid's friend. And that’s not good for any kid.
And now. The worst example yet, I believe: world leaders. To be precise, our own leader. He is so uncertain and unschooled in the strengths of this country, of what made it great, that he hesitates to defend it even to the most insidious infidels of the earth. He speaks with disdain and disrespect of our forefathers. He embarrasses us with crass statements, with trendy gadgets as gifts for his contemporaries (I've read that the gadgets featured "greatest hits" by his very self—I don't even have the stomach to confirm those rumblings); he bows to other religions while still tipping his hat, in mocking fashion it seems, to the very beliefs that built this country and that he claimed to embrace. He apologizes for our successes, downplays them, instead of climbing atop them to maintain his role as leader of a force with which to be reckoned.
The need to be liked brings about no good, especially in so-called grown-ups. It will most certainly elicit contempt from your enemies as they watch you prostrate yourself before them; likewise, it will bring disgust and shame from your allies as they step away to disassociate themselves from your ingratiating performance.
Perhaps this is why our founding countrymen specified a minimum age for an acting President. They assumed that by 35, a politically aware and educated person would have begun to shake off the shackles of youth and would no longer seek acceptance and popularity over common sense and duty.
I don't think they made the number high enough. Additionally, extreme arrogance in said person seems to further compound the confusion about priorities. Next time around, could we somehow incorporate a maturity quotient requirement into the mix? A wisdom requirement of some sort? Or an ethical one, perhaps... Problem solved.
Oops. I promised this wouldn't be that sort of blog. Alas, my "coming out" day grows nearer and nearer...
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Making the best of things
Just about everything I ever really needed to learn, I learned from poor examples.
There’s no nice way to say it, but it’s true. I could regale you with the intricacies of those sometimes-painful lessons, but I’ll bet you’d have a number of your own stories to tell. Many of those life lessons were acquired in unhealthy relationships, and I’m not just talking about romantic interests—I’m referring to all relationships: with fellow workers, friends, mentors, family members, everyone. And a lot of those lessons about how not to behave have been learned during trials—my own and other people’s.
Now, the Bible is pretty clear about identifying trials as blessings (James 1:2-3 and James 1:12 address this). I’m usually not able to embrace that interpretation, at least not in the midst of the trial itself. But I have to admit that after the fact, a broader view of what’s occurred sometimes minimizes my tunnel vision; then I can begin to see blessing woven into the disappointment, shortcoming, or even heartbreak. However. I have a long way to go in this “trials are blessings” department; most of us do.
Why am I addressing this? I’m not really in the midst of any trauma right now. But I have a friend who was, and has now begun to emerge on the other side—the victorious side. Watching her face a family member’s illness with unflagging grace and trust has been quite a lesson for me, and for everyone else who’s been privileged to witness their struggle.
And it’s such a joy, to learn from a person I admire. This woman and her daughter, God bless them, are one case where I’ve had to eat my words. I’ve had to admit that their honest but shining example has been far more instructive than all those negatives that preceded them. In my adulthood, I've seen ineffective and insensitive teachers, abusive and neglectful parents, lazy and careless co-workers… There's an ocean of people who will happily illustrate the wrong way to do things—but they all pale in significance when held up to a loving, faithful woman of true Godly character.
So, kudos to Shirley, and her daughter R. I wish you only great health and blessings to come. You’ve been through the valley; now feel the sun. Well done.
There’s no nice way to say it, but it’s true. I could regale you with the intricacies of those sometimes-painful lessons, but I’ll bet you’d have a number of your own stories to tell. Many of those life lessons were acquired in unhealthy relationships, and I’m not just talking about romantic interests—I’m referring to all relationships: with fellow workers, friends, mentors, family members, everyone. And a lot of those lessons about how not to behave have been learned during trials—my own and other people’s.
Now, the Bible is pretty clear about identifying trials as blessings (James 1:2-3 and James 1:12 address this). I’m usually not able to embrace that interpretation, at least not in the midst of the trial itself. But I have to admit that after the fact, a broader view of what’s occurred sometimes minimizes my tunnel vision; then I can begin to see blessing woven into the disappointment, shortcoming, or even heartbreak. However. I have a long way to go in this “trials are blessings” department; most of us do.
Why am I addressing this? I’m not really in the midst of any trauma right now. But I have a friend who was, and has now begun to emerge on the other side—the victorious side. Watching her face a family member’s illness with unflagging grace and trust has been quite a lesson for me, and for everyone else who’s been privileged to witness their struggle.
And it’s such a joy, to learn from a person I admire. This woman and her daughter, God bless them, are one case where I’ve had to eat my words. I’ve had to admit that their honest but shining example has been far more instructive than all those negatives that preceded them. In my adulthood, I've seen ineffective and insensitive teachers, abusive and neglectful parents, lazy and careless co-workers… There's an ocean of people who will happily illustrate the wrong way to do things—but they all pale in significance when held up to a loving, faithful woman of true Godly character.
So, kudos to Shirley, and her daughter R. I wish you only great health and blessings to come. You’ve been through the valley; now feel the sun. Well done.
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