On Pride and Vanity

Among the several, there are two distractions in particular that plague us, Pride and Vanity. Pride is the way we want to think we are; Vanity is the way we want others to think we are. There are so many manifestations of these two green giants that we are often not even aware of them. And that is the problem, we are not aware.

Maurice Nichol wrote five volumes of observations about the Work and I read them all. There was one recurring theme throughout the writings, which were much like this blog a series of recorded thoughts and observations over a long period of time, and that recurring theme is “remember yourself” or don’t become distracted. Before we can talk about distraction, we have to determine from what it is that we are attempting not to be distracted.

Very simply put, it is working on aim. Not something spelled out in many, if any, of the writings about The Fourth Way (TFW) and Gurdjieff. It is there but inferred and not specifically articulated because it is not just one thing, unless you accept that “working on aim” is one thing, and it is if you consider that we could be working on more than one aim in a lifetime and that all of our aims converge on one single overriding aim. An aim can be defined as the desired outcome of a present situation and there are many overlapping presents in which we are involved. Selecting one for the moment, working on it and being aware of doing so, is not being distracted.

Before I write another word I am not preaching TFW, I am not qualified to do so. I am simply relating my own findings from taking G’s advice and not accepting anything told to me, read by me, shown to me by others but rather spending the necessary time and psychic energy to find out for myself what is reasonable and what works; not accepting anything even the conclusions to which I come through my thought processes because, much like the physics of material behavior from the particle to the universe, there are always new and wonderful things discovered that change our understanding. What is true, i.e. reasonable and believable today may well turn out to be ridiculous and improbable in light of later, better information. If more people recognized this possibility the world would be a better place.

The difficulty of remembering oneself or staying aware is not as simple as one might think. One may presume that he knows what’s going on in and around him but you don’t, guaranteed. The difficulty is there is so much going on in our mind and brain-body at any given instant in time that it is almost impossible to keep up with it. It is like being at a national political convention, where the whole thing is contained inside of you, there are so many things going on that in order to accomplish anything, one must be able to separate and focus on one course of action without being sidetracked, distracted, by everything else that is going on and this is no small task. And there is an overriding aim at such a convention, selecting a candidate who can win the election but it can only be achieved by the accomplishment of a multitude of other, supporting aims.

It often seems easier, more pleasurable, more satisfying to fall into distraction than to apply one’s efforts to accomplishing aim. Only when it is over, time has elapsed, and one reflects on what it was he could have been doing instead of being distracted, does one realize he was distracted. The goal is to bring this awareness into focus during the distraction and dispel it before it uses up the time and psychic energy that could have been used to work on aim.

Pride and Vanity are particularly hard to recognize because they are near to the surface of our awareness. We are social beings and our reactions to others are always close to the surface, therefore when we sense that another is not reacting to us as we would like, we focus on that and try to bring about at desired reaction but while doing this we get distracted from whatever it was we aimed to do.

A classic example of this was the phone call I made last year when my aim was to confront someone about their unacceptable behavior. I reacted to his responses rather than keeping my presence of mind. The message got across but in an entirely different manner than I would have preferred. For a long time afterwards I felt good about the confrontation, it seemed to have accomplished what I wanted and I didn’t take any crap.

Then we were to create a monolog for acting class and I selected that phone call, mainly because I felt that I had acquitted myself completely. As I worked on the monolog and presented it to the class several times, it became more and more clear to me that this had not worked out as well as I thought. I made some significant changes in the manner of my response and my final presentation of the monolog was as I would have wanted the conversation to have taken place. I remained in the moment, unaffected by the tone of his responses and successfully achieved my aim in a friendly manner without hostility and anger.

This example is excellent in that Pride in my first performance blinded the truth; Vanity caused me to want to display the bravado of that first performance to the class. It was a slow process but self observation brought about by the repeated performance of that conversation and the reaction of my classmates and the professor caused me to realize that I was in Pride then Vanity and to go back to the basic script and start all over again with a more objective approach.

The lesson I learned was significant and relates to any and all conversations I have and will have. Don’t get sucked into an emotional response to the other(s) in the conversation unless there is an objective reason to do so, keep your mind on your objective and stay aware of what’s being said and going on around you. Recognition of Pride and Vanity in this instance has made a big difference in my behavior.

The Summer Cold of 2010

One must be a little careful, even when one is as vital as am I. Tuesday I sat in my chair downstairs and took a snooze, the air felt a little cool but nothing that alarmed me. By eight o’clock in the evening I could feel a discomfort at the back of my mouth at the throat and was immediately aware that I had come down with a summer cold. It felt as if I was encased in a coating of heavy mud as I moved around, consequently I didn’t do much of anything, thank goodness that it rained. Then as the evening wore on I was feeling less and less like making any unnecessary moves. I sat in the back, under a blanket and vegetated, eating only a little chicken soup and crackers with butter. I watched The Factor and then came down here to shoot a little pool and simply sit.

The night passed with me in full pajamas, including an undershirt, under the covers, and vacillating between sleep and awake. About 4 am I went into the office and covered up in my recliner for a couple of hours, then back to bed to unbend and sleep some more. I didn’t get up until after noon. All day I have been doing nil except for a walk to limber up my joints.

How much of this can be overcome by mental attitude and how much is real? This is the question that is bothering me, waiting for an answer. Yesterday I think it was more than 50-50 toward physical v. mental but today I think it is 25-75 physical to mental. IOW it is my opinion that I could buck up and be a jolly good fellow and get a lot done if only I wanted to. The difference is that 25% that screams at me not to exert myself physically.

On the battleground, the body v. intruders, my body is winning the war. It is up to me to keep from causing setbacks by over exertion of my present state. So I can engage in mental exercises, such as this writing or puzzles but not golf or riding. There is an overriding caution that I have to maintain and that is to be ready to roll Saturday night for the play. The show must go on.

I refrain from remedies of any kind for this type of malady because I believe that this body has the wherewithal to overcome the intruders. As I look/reflect on my activities before late Tuesday afternoon, I recall golf, which was exertion but not out of the ordinary. I had to get up at 6 am for the club meeting, which is always a factor on Tuesday; and Monday, I don’t recall doing anything that dragged me down. This chilling air blowing on me was the catalyst for allowing whatever microbes were present to get a foothold and begin their attack. This is why I am trying to figure out what could have been the thing/s that happened that allowed them to get to critical mass to mount an attack. My body usually responds to such an attack without even the rest of me knowing what is going on. Why this time did a little cool air allow the intrusion to get a foothold?

I don’t recall being around anyone who has a cold, anyone carrying the microbes that could have got to me somehow. That would have been sometime after Friday. Last weekend was the playoffs at BCofL and I was cooped up with my team around a table. One team mate was in close proximity giving me some pointers on the game, perhaps he was a carrier at the moment. This particular fellow is older and could have the germs but be personally immune to them. Then Saturday night we had the play, I don’t recall anyone there being either close enough to me or visibly ill to transmit it to me. Sunday we were home, Monday was not a big deal and then came the chill on Tuesday.

__________

I just now talked to a fellow club member and he likewise has a summer cold. He came back from Sedona AZ after his honeymoon there. He was at the meeting Tuesday, I shook hands with him. The fact that the microbes were from out of town may have made the difference. If I was feeling better, I wouldn’t be wasting all of this effort on getting to the source of my discomfort. With that last little bit of info from Mark, I think it may be the foreign microbes. I read somewhere that the rhinoviruses that cause the cold are mutating all the time and often we are immune to those in our local area. When one travels, he may get exposed to mutants for which he is not immune and bingo; then the infection starts around a whole new area.

So, there you are: the fatigue from being up early and then walking 18 holes of golf required rest but the chill worked against me, while the body was fighting the cooler air there wasn’t enough reserve left to fight the intruders. This too shall pass and I won’t even remember the summer cold of 2010.

From Discontent

The only reason I am outside writing is that it is such a nice day; I have time, or I am willing to take the time, and although I could be doing any one of a hundred other things, I am doing this. I’ll transcribe it later into the blog.

Tomorrow is a holiday, Memorial Day. Bert wasn’t the first to say it but I heard it from him, “Now that I’m retired, every day is a holiday except one, that’s Sunday.” That’s true for me as well. As I look around the neighborhood, I see many things wanting to be done but people are too busy with other obligations or just not focused on doing that particular thing at the moment. Others pick and choose what they want to do and so do I and I have more freedom than many.

My wife is in St. Louis. Whenever she’s away I feel a little at loose ends, without purpose, because underlying all, we are taking care of each other, she-me and I-her. Not interfering with each other, not causing the other problems but doing each our part for the other. So when she’s gone I am not concerned with doing for her and I realize that life without her would be very different.

I had thoughts of making a change, pursuing s.t. else, i.e., I was feeling that I wanted to start s.t. new or different. As I thought about it I became aware that is a recurring theme in my life; set a course, get started down a path, then before it can play itself out, decide to do something else. Well into it, to get discontented and impatient with progress and start to feel that there is s.t. new, exciting, and different to do and then go look for what it could be. And yet in the past, I was able to remain on a course and got back to whatever it was in the first place. So it was this time, only I was able to recognize the mind set and not waste much psychic energy on it. Even now I am not too interested in writing about it because these lines are expository and not analytical. IOW this mind set has been resolved and abandoned. I am back to the script, the club, the crop, and the cue.

It is interesting however to reflect on the discontent and resolution that occurred last week. It was as if I’d lost my way and then found it again. It is a valuable exercise, to write about it, because just like when engaged in a mindless chore I have thoughts of what else I’d rather/could be doing, so too the referenced mind-set is a way of asking that same question but on a broader plane. The results this time were to return to the dreams and pursue them. It was a validation.

I am doing what I want. I am performing, riding, playing golf and pool. I am also doing comm’y things in Rotary Club and taking care of the house and home. That which has the biggest influence on me, both consciously and not, is the set of daily affirmations I have developed. They have had a profound effect on my behavior and attitude. They continue to operate on a level that is not always in the foreground. There are some of the thirty-four that have been fully incorporated into my mien; there are others that are said, believed, and thought to be important but not yet part of the fabric of my day to day. For example it is easy to say, “Maintaining a favorable opinion, I remain positive and constructive” and quite another thing to react to situations that are not consistent with my preferences and/or perception of what they should be. Since this one is relatively new, it is a ruler to measure what is desired v. this is what it is. So it is with all of the dailies, they are standards, a code, desired behaviors, and as such give me a chart for guidance. I get off course but with the chart I can see where I am and make corrections, or not.

When I reflect on my performance evolution routine, these dailies, and my activities, I see that I am wending my way through a pleasant lifetime. And I suppose this is the source of my aforementioned discontent. It would seem that with the sophistication I have reached with my plotting and scheming that I could be accomplishing much more significant results. It begs the question, what is significant? I refer to my model of accomplishment and I am reminded that it is measurable in objective terms and not in subjective, i.e., not the perceptions of others. I have not achieved appropriate skill levels in my pursuits and thus prone to discouragement from time to time.

Another piece of the puzzle may be/could be that I am not concerned enough with the betterment of mankind. IOW I am not helping someone else; I am not responsible for anyone else, other than my wife, taking care to see to their welfare. At least I don’t feel that I am.

A third piece may be my envy of others whom I know, who seem to be better off, more accomplished, earning more, making more, living better than we. A fourth piece that is less in play is the “grass is greener” syndrome. This one may be tied to the previous piece in that others always seem to be better off; but upon closer scrutiny it is found that they have problems and situations that are much worse and they are not someone with whom I would trade places. This or that may be better but only this or that and not the whole.

So I am back to where I was after my walk the other day; i.e., I am reaffirmed in my resolve to act, ride, play pool and golf. These are the rocks of my activities with performing being the money-maker and the others providing satisfaction of different kinds.

Escape from Reality

Some philosophical thoughts that have been invading my mind of late need to be expressed. I’ll do it in this format but they may appear again in verse or allegory when probed.

One of these is the phenomenon of looking at a field of flowers and then regarding individual plants or rows. I have a photo of a field of lavender in France and it has a high degree of resolution. When one focuses on the overall visual effect of the field of flowers, one sees a sea of lavender color, romantic/rustic shapes of rural buildings which could be houses or utility buildings in the background, further back are hills of brown and various earthy hues. It is a photo that begs an impressionist to paint; to take out the reality and leave the impression, the fantasy of perfection, the escape from dust and weeds.

When one focuses his gaze in on the foreground, he notices caliche soil, the rangy individual plants that are individually less than attractive. There are weeds, dead, gnarly branches, that exist at the sub floral level. Not that any of this is ugly but definitely not as romantically beautiful as the overall scene of a sea of lavender color. This aspect of it would not be in the impressionist’s picture. This effect, this eliding of detail, the deliberate ignorance of detail also exists in almost every scene that we see. It is a sort of escape from reality. This was emphatically made apparent to us by the impressionist painters where the focus was on the overall visual effect of the scene as opposed to photographic/scientific reality. It is an escape that we readily make from the real world.

Last night, I assisted with the dismantling and removal of the stage props that make up the set for our mystery-dinner play, Murder in Cairo, at the Hyatt-Regency hotel in downtown Louisville. The fact that the hotel is two-faced was impressed upon me as we moved from one side to the other. There is the public side and the service side.

The public side is full of glass and polished surfaces, the walls are stylishly covered in currently tasteful colors, floors are carpeted with patterned carpets and the whole effect bespeaks luxury and wealth. It is maintained to impress guests and swallow them up in the ambiance of their surroundings and induce a certain low-level euphoria making them feel that all is perfect in this little corner of the world and made so just for them.

The service side is familiar to those who work at the hotel, who are there, not for the escape from reality but to provide the escape to the patrons, those who pay for the care free perfection and freedom from reality for a short time. Those who provide same get paid to do so.

Surely, some are there just because it is the only job they could get but they stay there because there is a certain satisfaction that they feel; also perhaps because it is easier to come back to the hotel and be paid than to try to find another job. Others are there because they have the romantic notion that this is what they want to with a major part of their time.

This service-side is analogous to the close up of the lavender field. The service area is the antithesis of the public side. It smells of discarded food in garbage containers; the surfaces are scuffed, dented, scarred with careless movements of heavy carts, in need of paint and repair but not littered with trash. The people who work there are aware of the condition of their surroundings and accept them because they are engaged in work activities, service to those on the public side who are willing to pay for it.

The dividing line between the public and service sides is a veil that is more than facilities, it is also psychological. The servers have different attitudes depending on which side they are on. When they are facilitating the escape they are polite, friendly, unhurried, and solicitous but as soon as they pierce the veil they are hell-bent on whatever they need for their next appearance on the public side, they are purposeful and it comes across as mean and rude but it is better described as business-like.

The business of providing escape is huge. It is everywhere from the TV in your family room to the most luxurious cruise ship afloat and the path winds through the movie house, the play house, the banquet rooms, ballrooms, hotels, casinos, Disney World, Las Vegas, New York City, San Francisco, London, and Paris to name a few of the stops along the way. It is the product of Marketing, with a capital M, the fantasy of promise,which if delivered becomes a sustained business. If not delivered, or if delivered poorly it is viewed as a get rich quick scheme and a flash in the pan. The losers are those who pay for escape and don't get it. 

Telemarketers who deliver $2 worth of product for $19.95, but-wait-we’ll-double-it-if-you-call-right-now are the stars of the get rich quick game. They create the fantasy and set the hook in anywhere from one to twenty-four minutes. Once in a while they call to mind a real need but their effort is aimed at creating a perceived need and a sense of urgency to satisfy it. Marketers in general do this in magazines, on-line, in stores, in newspapers, on billboards, on radio, and TV, even in the guise of program content as on the David Letterman show. There are other media but these are a few that come to mind.

So in our day to day world we tend to buy into the fantasy of escape and are willing to pay for the opportunity to do so. The job, stage, playing field all tend to bring us back to reality when we are the worker, performer, or player. It’s good to work, perform, and play but an escape from time to time is refreshing, even for those who provide escape for others.

A Horse, of Course

I have it in mind to publish a post but I don’t have in mind what I want to express. I thought of the hierarchy diatribe but I did that last year at about this time. Then I thought about a lot of other things but can’t seem to settle on any one so I’m back to an old trick, i.e., start writing and see what comes out of the pipe.

The news is delivered on-line and on paper. Since I bought the roll around hospital table, put the laptop on it, and located it next to my seat at the kitchen table, I’ve got the news at my fingertips every day; even France2 television news where I can listen to what’s important to the French today. I have more fun with the on-line because there is the opportunity to comment. There are those who make a game/hobby/ diversion out of it and even argue with others who don’t subscribe to their thinking as expressed in their comments. There are even some who take umbrage at my comments, which are often made simply to get a rise out of the regulars. Some probably spend most of the day at the keyboard, commenting on comments made by others. Some of the “discussions” go on for days and there are several blocks of reply to quotes.

I am getting very close to buying a horse. I am particularly fond of Skippy, a horse I’ve been riding for a few months. He is somewhat young and inexperienced but willing and slowly getting into shape. Carola is upset with me because of this but I’ve told her, over and over, that this year is when I am going to get a horse of my own. Realistically, I only have a few more years of riding because sooner or later age, wear, and tear are going to take their toll on this body of mine. But I figure, if I can get five or six years more years of riding, I could conceivably get Skippy to the point of competing in events.

Let’s talk about this a little. The scenario would be to buy him from Carol and keep him at Mint Springs Stables. My status would change from rider to boarder; no more tack, or supplies from her. I need to ask her what the deal is for those who board their horses there. I want the facts of cost, what’s allowed and not, what approvals are necessary for using the facilities such as arena, jump field, jumps, wash rack, in which pasture he would be kept, and trailer rental.

Then, what about trailering? The horse would have to be trailer broken. I may have to get a vehicle capable of pulling a trailer. The incidental tack would not be a problem but I would need a winter blanket and a thick rubber pad for his withers. I wouldn’t want to do this on the cheap because when you pull into a show facility, there is an image that has to be maintained. Not that I want to make a big horse farm splash, but I want to be able to stand tall and be proud of my horse, my tack, and my rig.

There is no need to keep him at Mint Springs but I could continue to train him there as I am. I think it all depends on the deal. If she is willing to give and take on the use of the place and not be too picayune about what, where and when; then I would probably be as happy to stay there as move him.

The next thing is for what would I be using him? Cross-country, dressage, and stadium jumping is what I like to do the most including schooling at the Horse Park, or Masterson Station, after that trail riding in state and/or city parks, then competition but only on occasion to see how we stack up according to a judge. I may have to work with Carol to put her X-country course back into shape and that would be a major effort, requiring more than me working alone. But I see the remnants of a first class course.

This could get into a major time commitment, the riding, the training, the rebuilding, farm maintenance, and working to get the money together to maintain the horse. I think the monthly expenses would have to be earned or from economies from other activities but I would buy him and associated assets out of inheritance money.

This whole idea will have to be the subject of a planning project, starting with some creative thinking/ problem solving to get it all thought through. Probably the major thing is the question, why would I have a horse? The answer may well be that I would be better off without one. But then, why would I have a sailboat? Why would I have a business? Why would I build a house? Why would I get married? Why would I go to Europe, why would I do anything? The answer is always, because that’s what I want, that’s what I am driven to do. Most of what I have desired in life doesn’t stand the cold test of rational decision making. The sequence of events is, make the decision, and then figure out how to make it work. There is always that leap of faith that has to be made. One makes up his mind to do something and then do it.

The pattern seems to be romantic v. materialistic when it comes to devoting my time to an endeavor. When I think of devoting time and effort to “making money” I quickly lose interest in the process. It is a lot like design engineering, drudgery. The results were fun during the creative phase but then it became a matter of cranking out numbers. I think I’ve found my avenues: acting, pool, golf, and riding; the script, the cue, the club, the crop.

The Spirits We Encounter

If you have been following the evolution of my thinking for a long time, you will know that I have had experiences that make me think that I was at a certain place in a previous lifetime. Well, it comes to me that there may a different source of these feelings.

If a being dies after having established his permanency, it could be that he remains as a disembodied spirit. As such he may be sans senses, IOW unable to see, hear, taste, smell or touch but at the same time can be aware of what is going on. Much like watching a movie, without senses he is missing the full sensation of what it “feels” like to be alive except for his memories of same that are frozen in the last lifetime he had. So, he’s out there, hanging around; I say that because there is no clue as to what he is doing in his perfected existence, and along comes a kindred being, alive and sensible, who can be used for a few moments to get the latest on how it “feels” to be in this place again.

Some of my experiences could be considered intrusions. IOW, while in the kitchen of the chateau in Chantilly when I experienced the heat of the stove even though it had been cold for more than 100 years. Was it that a spirit, who was hanging around the chateau kitchen, took the opportunity to enjoy the sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and feelings at that instance using my senses to do so? The same thing can be said for the experience on the Great North Road in Doncaster environs, or on Maui, or in Houston, or in almost every place I’ve been including old neighborhoods here in Louisville.

This is not to say that recurrence doesn’t occur, this phenomenon could be in addition to recurrence. These bodies, in which we live, may not be single purpose machines but able to be used for any and all types of activities. It’s as if a roaming spirit asks if he can drive the bus for a few moments.

Unfortunately the intrusion may possibly become inhabitation that could lead to all sorts of results, results that could be judged by current morals and ethics to be incredibly good or terribly evil. Perhaps it is the quality of the brain-body that draws to it the spirit who would inhabit and use it as his own. That would mean some sort of contest may have to be made with the currently developing being moving aside to allow the unfulfilled one to take over. There are stories about this sort of thing, where one sells his soul. Could this be an interpretation of the parable where it is said, “What good does it do a man to gain the world but lose his soul?”

It leads me to at least one conclusion, a requirement to disallow dislocation and re-inhabitation. I feel that I am a developing being, the current day product of who knows how many previous lifetimes. One who is interested in developing as far as possible in this one and then doing it again and again until the realization is achieved that it has gone as far as it can.

So much for that line of thinking; there is another thought that has been intruding on my peace of mind of late. I’ll set it up. There is a continuing round of good luck going on for me that is extraordinary. Not that we’ve won the lottery or anything big like that, but little things that make life pleasant and even fun. Things turn out beautifully so many times due to coincidences that are inexplicable. I’ll list a few later but won’t describe them in too much detail because it would be impolite but take my word for it; there have been instances where my good fortune has been a joy.

It makes me wonder if Mom isn’t somehow around us and sending good fortune our way. I know that sounds kooky but it is has been happening more and more lately and, hey, I’m not complaining. Just as the victims of terrible wrong sometimes hang around and get their vengeance, so too it may be that rewards for good come from those who benefitted from good treatment.

I remember one instance last summer when I was making my called shot on the eight ball to win the game and the match for the playoffs. The whole team was silently screaming at me not to put lower left hand English on the cue ball but I mistakenly thought that was the right thing to do. I made the eight ball, and the cue ball, as a result of the physics of billiards, naturally rolled to the near side pocket. But it stopped a quarter of an inch from the opening and remained on the table. One of my mates even said, “That was your mom.”

Maybe it was, maybe not and that’s only one small, insignificant example of the many good little things that have come my way since last August. Another, this year I drew the queen of spades for $320 at the Rotary Club meeting. Another, the favorable change in riding instructors that occurred shortly after I restarted my lessons; and just today, I said I’d like to have a deli style slicer. I wheeled around to EBay and there was one ending in 19 minutes, I bid and got it. If I sat here a while I could list more than a hundred of them, all of little consequence other than making our lives more pleasant. I can only say, “Dear Mom, stay as long as you like.”

A conclusion that doesn’t make a lot of sense, other than it fits the circumstances of the experiences described by these two disparate ramblings; it could be that spirits are tied to their location of death for a while. There is no way of telling for how long and it may be individually determined. I recall “seeing” a group of grisly veterans hanging around a roadside cemetery in France. The experiences of Chantilly, Doncaster, Maui, and the host of other places always take place at or near the location. Mom died here.

You Are Good Enough

There is an item of self-talk that has caused much difficulty and it was finally isolated and identified recently. The message heard over and over is, “You’re not good enough.” This was mistaken at one time as not being worthy but that isn’t the case. It has little to do with self esteem, another mistaken identity upon which much time was spent working. It has little to do with activity, action, or accomplishment. It is an emotional response that is usually in evidence when attempting something new and different—after the first time. There have been so many instances where the first attempt was above average but then this voice started between the first and follow-on attempts and sabotaged the activity. It is as if some perfect ideal is imagined and then cannot be achieved.

It may be the reason why I spend so much time preparing for s.t. I have not been able to quiet this voice, this feeling, except through overdoing preparation. There are many instances of this, especially when in new and strange surroundings. In fact, often my prepared material is way off base but it is complete, it is thorough, it passes the weight test. In hindsight I can see where this motto has caused me to take an overly idealistic course of action and find out later that it was inappropriate or even wasted effort. Often these were instances when I either didn’t or couldn’t get good advice from others in the know.

It is in evidence as the first opinion of an effort as poor, be it a sketch, poem, story, presentation, or portrayal which later changes from unsatisfactory to “that was pretty good.” I have picked up sketches just a few hours after completion, which upon completion I thought to be terrible, only to be impressed by them.

I don’t know the genesis of this mantra. It may have been impressed upon me at an early age and/or may well be the result of a lot of small experiences that reinforced this feeling. It is certain that my cynical, harsh judge is often behind it. He holds up perfect ideals and castigates me for not being perfect. The remedy is rationality, objectivity, common sense, and association with people who are genuinely objective in their opinions of others.

This last group is hard to identify, especially with the experience of hearing back biting insults that are often spoken when the subject is not present. I always project that these same things are being said about me in my absence. In fact, most of the time my absence isn’t even noticed, IOW out of sight out of mind. I have almost lost my sensitivity to the opinion of others so the need for reinforcement and acceptance is not as strong as it once was.

The truth of the matter is that I am not all that great at just about everything. I developed the ability to talk a good game due to the profession I chose, i.e. business management. And it was usually the business of others; at a level where I didn’t have to do much of anything, except conceptualize what needed to be done and then make sure that it was accomplished. My vanity grew to the point where I supposed my game to be as good as my talk. It has taken years to recognize this and it was even true up to the recent past few years. Then there came the time when the structure of accomplishment became evident to me, i.e. the Knowledge, Skill, Value, Medals, Awards model, and I became aware that I had just a few skills that were only borderline good and only one of some commercial value.

The vanity that drove me to over achieve and impress my peers and observers is finally abating. This is a good thing because the need to excel coupled with the inability to do so is devastating. The pressure to perform is only now easing to the point where I am not involved in self-flagellation whenever I see my efforts fall short of expectation. It is bad enough to fall short of my own expectations but even worse to think that the expectations of others aren’t met. Imagining the expectations of others to be beyond the scope of my capabilities has led to a few heroic results and to disastrous results at most others. Unmet expectations are the root of the frustrations one feels playing golf; they are likewise frustrating whenever unmet for any endeavor but at golf you can’t get away from it, you have to walk up to the ball and attempt to hit it accurately again.

So, there was conditioning that led to this development from early on, reinforced by being a professional manager in a large organization of similar managers for a whole career/lifetime (31 years); this culminated in (1) being forced out of one organization, (2) joining another that had an impossible business model, and (3) surfing that wave all the way to the beach; a ride that lasted 10 years and then petered out. That’s the major league syndrome, where very few people are good enough to be the stars of their profession.

The realization that I am in fact good enough to enjoy a variety of activities and comfortable at not being a star is finally settling in. I am good enough just as I am. I’ve done many good and wonderful things, very few of them perfectly, and will continue without the goal of perfection, adulation, or fame. The goal now is to enjoy the ride. I have a healthy and fit body, a good mind, and lots of interests to be pursued. After taking care of my bodily needs, all I need is a place to be, something to do, someone to do it with, and the anticipation of something good happening.