This probably seems like a strange title, especially following the generally upbeat nature of most of my posts. I've just been observing people, I guess lately, but also for a long time; there are things I see, patterns that so many people seem to follow, and on one hand, I don't understand it, while on the other hand I think I do. Either way, it's something I feel strongly about, so I felt the need to write about it.
It started today when the following statement popped into my head:
The worst prisons, and the ones from which escape is most difficult, are those that are locked from the inside.
Hence, the title "internal prisons". As human beings, we tend to place ourselves in bondage of all kinds, mental, or emotional, that limit us externally, but have their root and origin in our own minds, and which are not at all imposed on us directly by any external source. We actually choose them ourselves, and choose to remain in them; it's probably one of those things about human nature that will never fully make sense.
A lot of things could qualify under this category, though I don't want to exhaustively go over each one. But they're worth mentioning. One is fear. Fear of failure, fear of looking stupid, fear of losing what we have. Fear of entering new territory, going out on a limb, fear of entering the unknown. Fear of rejection, of "bothering" people by reaching out to them and getting to know them.
Once you take a step forward, however, you realize something you wish you had known all along: that the fear you always felt was never a reflection of reality at all. That fear of people being annoyed with you, for example, is something with which I used to be well acquainted. But in the end, the root was an insecurity that originated in the depths of my own mind. Sure, it may have begun with a bad experience with someone, but there will always be some people who act in such a way that diminishes our view of the entire human race. We just have to make the decision to not allow that to happen. The big picture is quite different; there are people out there who love unconditionally, who build up rather than tear down, who enjoy being around you and value who you are. Sometimes you have to go out on a limb to find them, venture into unfamiliar territory, meet new people. I've been fortunate enough to have an experience exactly like this, and it's always worth it.
But anyway, that's not the particular type of prison I had in mind when I began this. I was thinking more of a type of self-inflicted chains that's a little more difficult to express in a simple way. I'm referring to the unhealthy relationships we have with other people. It could be any type of relationship; siblings, parents and children, friends, spouses, or anything in between. And I think it's fueled by a twisted view of what love is.
Love is NOT giving someone else whatever they want. It's NOT sacrificing everything for them, regardless of whether or not it's actually good for them. It's not giving them everything at the expense of your own sanity and well-being. These things are far from real love, but too often, we can't tell the difference.
I understand the concept of being selfless, that love is sacrifice, that it's placing the other person's needs as a priority over your own. But something in our human nature compels us to take this much farther than it was ever intended to go...to our detriment. We exhaust ourselves in order to pour everything we have into someone else, even though they have an inner wound that sucks dry any attempts at filling them up. The result is an endless cycle, leaving the first person emotionally and mentally exhausted, and the second person no better off than they were before. Sometimes stepping away is the most loving thing we can do for someone, and the only way anyone can experience real healing.
What is it that makes us give and give and give, even past the point at which we know that what we're giving is not beneficial to ourselves or the other person? In the end, is that really love? Or is it a reflection of an inner insecurity, a desire to feel better about ourselves, to feel like we're doing something good? Real love must be rational. It works to discover what is truly best for someone, and then does it. So simple, yet so complicated!
In the end, I think it's all about having an accurate sense of our own worth. And realistically, how many of us actually have this? More likely we see ourselves through the eyes of those who have the most contempt for us, and the least respect! Why do we choose the opinions of these as our standard? Why not our Creator, who knows us far better than they do, as well as those who actually care enough to take the time to know us in the first place? I'm willing to bet that the people who put us down the most don't really know us at all.
I think we get ourselves in these situations because we have such difficulty navigating the boundary between giving and sacrificing for the good of others, and going completely too far by neglecting our own well being and denying the immense worth that we each have. We don't owe it to ANYONE to allow them to drain us completely dry and then just demand more, more, more. It's ironic that while "no" is often the first word a child learns, it's also very often one of the hardest words for us to actually learn to use!
While I don't understand this tendency completely, it's something I continue to make an effort to understand. And more often than not, it comes from wounds from our past, even the distant past. Perhaps rejection, or abuse, or loneliness, anything that gives us a twisted view of ourselves, of how much worth we really have, and that drives us to voluntarily enter into something destructive, when we deserve so much better!
And that leads me to what, I think, is ultimately the solution, although I know it's not quite that simple: for people to understand and accept their amazing value. This what I would like to tell people: You are unique; you're NOT in any way just another girl, just another guy. There are things about you, personality traits, the way you see the world, the things you love and enjoy, and especially what you have to offer, that NO one else in the world can match. The feeling that you have nothing to offer is a self-fulfilling prophecy: the more you believe it, the less you'll actually offer. Take a risk, put yourself out there, because you and everyone around you will be better because of it.
But with that understanding of your own value comes an ongoing need: never allow yourself to forget the value you have! Don't settle for someone who deliberately ignores that value. There will always be people in our lives who take and take, but never give. And I'm not saying completely cut them out of our lives. But it's a mistake to surround ourselves primarily with this type of person. You're NOT here simply for someone else's entertainment. You have NO obligation to make anyone happy, or "fix" them!
Instead, surround yourself primarily with people who recognize and acknowledge your true value. I promise they're out there...they're waiting for you, looking for you. And sometimes, honestly, they're found in the most unlikely places.
Finally, hold out for those who will love you with a mature love, a love that accurately reflects your value, that challenges you and inspires you to become everything you were born to be and everything you want to be, that helps you to look into the mirror each morning and be able to truly say that you love yourself. In the end, it's when we're able to love and take care of ourselves, that we will best be able to love and take care of others. When we neglect ourselves, and deny our true worth and value, everyone loses.
I think the term "internal prison" is fitting, because while we can all help in some way, by reaching out to people and loving them, in the end, we make our own choices. We choose to give too much. We choose to do things that aren't good for ourselves or anyone else. And it's something that we have to choose to leave behind, from the inside. There's nothing like the fresh air you discover once you unlock the door and come out!
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Reflections on Work
Today I was briefly thinking about all the jobs I've had in the last four years, specifically the contrasts between them and how valuable it has been for me to reflect on those contrasts. I've had four jobs in the past four years, but I've only quit one of them. Yesterday I began my fourth job, meaning I have three currently. Before that starts to sound impressive, however, note that each one rarely exceeds 10 hours a week, so it's not as crazy as it sounds. I just have to put in a little more effort to keep my schedule straight!
However, as I mentioned, the really interesting thing is the contrast between my jobs. Two take place in an office environment; the third is with a cleaning company. I've been with the cleaning company for the longest amount of time (about four years), and that's the main one that has provided for me throughout college. One of my co-workers once remarked that cleaning is a very humbling job, and though it had never occurred to me, I immediately realized the truth in that statement. It's harder work than most people realize, but beyond that, to be blunt, it's almost always gross. There's no other way to put it. And that factor is what makes the contrast between that and my other jobs so interesting.
As many of you know, I'm majoring in Finance in college. The other two jobs are related to my field of study: I've been an administrative assistant for a financial planner for about six months, and I recently became the book-keeper for my church. And this is where the ironic contrast comes into play: In the morning, for example, I'm dressed in business attire, in an office, making phone calls to investment brokerage companies, printing forms, updating client data; beyond that, I can take breaks whenever I want, drink coffee, and fiddle on Facebook while I work. Then, late that evening (around 10:00pm perhaps), I'm in a doctor's office, scrubbing the bottoms of toilets, scraping dried food off of dinner plates, and clearing up that stupid drain that keeps getting plugged. What a contrast!
The key point I'm trying to make, however, is more than just remarking on how different each of my jobs is. I want to point out the value this contrast has for me. It's allowed me to see a wide spectrum of the working world and gain both types of experiences. Particularly, it's helped me to understand that deep down, we are all the same. Too often people who consider themselves to be "upper class" can fall into the habit of looking down on those whom they consider to be "lower class." In fact, there's one client for whom I clean that comes to mind, one who treats us cleaners as if we're lesser human beings. On the flip side, most of my experience with clients for whom I've cleaned are just the opposite. One is the CEO of a company and more successful than I could ever hope to be. Yet, he and his wife treat us cleaners completely as equals. They allow us to refer to them on a first-name basis, chat with us about what's going on in our lives, offer us food and drinks, always thank us, and even apologize if they happen to be in a room that we are about to start cleaning! It's amazing how differently some people view others.
Working in these different environments has taught me a valuable lesson; no matter how good I feel about myself when I'm sitting in an office, reclining in my chair in my nice clothes, drinking coffee, I remember that I'm also a lowly cleaner, and proud to be one! In the end, there's no difference. The value that each of us has is not derived from our social status, job, or level of education, and it's important to remember that...too many people who are on the top forget what it's like to be on the bottom. I hope that, having had the opportunity to be in radically different places on that continuum simultaneously, I will be able to always keep that lesson in mind no matter where my life goes.
And I have one more thing to add. You'll notice that I talked about my second, third, and fourth jobs, but not my first. I worked in fast food for a brief six weeks, but during that short time, I gained such valuable experience that I will never forget it. That was the first time that I realized how hard I would need to work to accomplish my goals. It was also when I really developed a work ethic. It was soon before I was to start college, and I needed money for tuition. Anyone can tell you that fast food isn't exactly an ideal job. You have to stand for many hours without a break, keep track of 20+ orders at the same time during the dinner rush, deal with people yelling at you from every side, and, worst of all, smell and handle all the delicious food while you're starving and can't eat any (you'd be surprised how delicious even fast food seems when you're that hungry)! And yet, I look back fondly on my time there; I learned teamwork and perseverance in a way that couldn't be done anywhere else. Unfortunately, the schedule wasn't going to work with my school schedule, so I had to quit after six weeks, but that short time was enough to make a permenent mark on me.
And that leads me to my final point. There are some people who are able to perhaps get a degree and start working in a higher status job right from the start without having to do any lowly jobs like cleaning or fast food. But I honestly feel bad for them. I've gained incredibly valuable experience in those jobs, and most importantly, I've learned that I'm not "too good" to have a job like that. It's good to not have a problem with "getting your hands dirty." I learned to work hard, and that's something we all need to know. No matter how far I get in life, how far away from something like fast food or cleaning, I would not be the same person without those experiences, so I will always be grateful for them.
However, as I mentioned, the really interesting thing is the contrast between my jobs. Two take place in an office environment; the third is with a cleaning company. I've been with the cleaning company for the longest amount of time (about four years), and that's the main one that has provided for me throughout college. One of my co-workers once remarked that cleaning is a very humbling job, and though it had never occurred to me, I immediately realized the truth in that statement. It's harder work than most people realize, but beyond that, to be blunt, it's almost always gross. There's no other way to put it. And that factor is what makes the contrast between that and my other jobs so interesting.
As many of you know, I'm majoring in Finance in college. The other two jobs are related to my field of study: I've been an administrative assistant for a financial planner for about six months, and I recently became the book-keeper for my church. And this is where the ironic contrast comes into play: In the morning, for example, I'm dressed in business attire, in an office, making phone calls to investment brokerage companies, printing forms, updating client data; beyond that, I can take breaks whenever I want, drink coffee, and fiddle on Facebook while I work. Then, late that evening (around 10:00pm perhaps), I'm in a doctor's office, scrubbing the bottoms of toilets, scraping dried food off of dinner plates, and clearing up that stupid drain that keeps getting plugged. What a contrast!
The key point I'm trying to make, however, is more than just remarking on how different each of my jobs is. I want to point out the value this contrast has for me. It's allowed me to see a wide spectrum of the working world and gain both types of experiences. Particularly, it's helped me to understand that deep down, we are all the same. Too often people who consider themselves to be "upper class" can fall into the habit of looking down on those whom they consider to be "lower class." In fact, there's one client for whom I clean that comes to mind, one who treats us cleaners as if we're lesser human beings. On the flip side, most of my experience with clients for whom I've cleaned are just the opposite. One is the CEO of a company and more successful than I could ever hope to be. Yet, he and his wife treat us cleaners completely as equals. They allow us to refer to them on a first-name basis, chat with us about what's going on in our lives, offer us food and drinks, always thank us, and even apologize if they happen to be in a room that we are about to start cleaning! It's amazing how differently some people view others.
Working in these different environments has taught me a valuable lesson; no matter how good I feel about myself when I'm sitting in an office, reclining in my chair in my nice clothes, drinking coffee, I remember that I'm also a lowly cleaner, and proud to be one! In the end, there's no difference. The value that each of us has is not derived from our social status, job, or level of education, and it's important to remember that...too many people who are on the top forget what it's like to be on the bottom. I hope that, having had the opportunity to be in radically different places on that continuum simultaneously, I will be able to always keep that lesson in mind no matter where my life goes.
And I have one more thing to add. You'll notice that I talked about my second, third, and fourth jobs, but not my first. I worked in fast food for a brief six weeks, but during that short time, I gained such valuable experience that I will never forget it. That was the first time that I realized how hard I would need to work to accomplish my goals. It was also when I really developed a work ethic. It was soon before I was to start college, and I needed money for tuition. Anyone can tell you that fast food isn't exactly an ideal job. You have to stand for many hours without a break, keep track of 20+ orders at the same time during the dinner rush, deal with people yelling at you from every side, and, worst of all, smell and handle all the delicious food while you're starving and can't eat any (you'd be surprised how delicious even fast food seems when you're that hungry)! And yet, I look back fondly on my time there; I learned teamwork and perseverance in a way that couldn't be done anywhere else. Unfortunately, the schedule wasn't going to work with my school schedule, so I had to quit after six weeks, but that short time was enough to make a permenent mark on me.
And that leads me to my final point. There are some people who are able to perhaps get a degree and start working in a higher status job right from the start without having to do any lowly jobs like cleaning or fast food. But I honestly feel bad for them. I've gained incredibly valuable experience in those jobs, and most importantly, I've learned that I'm not "too good" to have a job like that. It's good to not have a problem with "getting your hands dirty." I learned to work hard, and that's something we all need to know. No matter how far I get in life, how far away from something like fast food or cleaning, I would not be the same person without those experiences, so I will always be grateful for them.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Time
Whenever I'm bored (and often when I'm not as well), I like to come up with problems to solve or situations to analyze. One such time, I decided to try to determine what is a human being's most valuable resource. Money definitely isn't it; besides the fact that there are so many things worth more than money, I see money as more of a means to acquiring resources rather than a resource in and of itself. I suppose a case could be made for water, or something of that sort that is imperative to survival. But I think that time itself is our most valuable resource.
No doubt we're not accustomed to thinking of time as a resource. That's unfortunate, though, because I think there would be significant benefits if we did. I assume nearly all of us would say that time is very valuable, but it's troubling sometimes to see how frequently it's wasted (and at times I admit I'm as guilty as anyone else). Nevertheless, we may all agree that time is valuable. But why exactly is it so valuable?
I think one way to answer that question would utilize the principle of scarcity in economics. One way to define economics is the study of how people satisfy their needs and desires by acquiring scarce resources. "Scarce" simply means finite and limited. Suppose that on our planet we had an unlimited supply of water. As a result there would be no competition to acquire water because everyone's needs could be met without depriving anyone else. But on the flip side, imagine that there are only 100 gallons of (drinkable) water left on the planet, and no way to acquire more. Suddenly water would be in very high demand (to put it lightly). If any of those gallons were being sold, the price would be astronomically high. In a situation like that the demand for water would almost certainly be so high that people would kill for it. These are two very different scenarios, and the only difference between them is the amount of water that is available.
Therefore, the basic principle is that things become more valuable as they become more scarce. Each gallon of water is much more valuable when there are only 100. If time is considered a resource, then it's no exception to this rule. Within the next hour of your life, you might watch TV, read a book, go on Facebook, or any number of things. You probably won't worry too much about how you're going to spend that hour because you expect to have many more hours in your life. But imagine for a moment how valuable that hour would be if you knew you only had 100 hours left to live!
I think that most of us become increasingly aware of the importance of time as we get older. I think one of the most powerful things that a child could understand is how important it is to use his or her time wisely. Sadly, most people at a very young age simply haven't reached the point in their maturity to fully grasp this concept. It's unfortunate because that's exactly when we have the most time. Gradually, as we get older, two things happen:
The first is that our lives become busier. We go to school, we get jobs, we have families, and we find ourselves with less and less free time.
The other thing that happens is that time itself seems to go faster as we get older. I used to puzzle about why this happens, and my best guess is that it's a difference in perspective based on comparison. In other words, the year during which a child is two years old probably seems like a lifetime. Why? Because it is a lifetime to that child. With only one year through which to look back, one more year is 50% of that child's cumulative life. As the child ages, one year will become smaller and smaller portions of the child's entire life. By the time we reach adulthood, one year is relatively very small compared to the total time we've lived thus far, and will seem rather short as a result.
The problem is increased when we reflect on the fact that as we get older, we have less and less time before us. Simultaneously, two things are happening: we learn more and more how valuable time is, and we constantly lose it. As we become more equipped to use our time wisely, we lose more and more time to use wisely.
To refer once more to imagining time as a resource, one way to look at it is to imagine that at the beginning of our lives we are given a certain amount of money (we don't know exactly how much), and there's no way to increase that amount. Then, once each minute, one dollar is taken from us, and there's no way to stop it. There's only one thing over which we have control: what is done with the dollar. We can spend it on something useless like junk food, or it can be used for a wise investment. But one thing is for certain: we cannot stop the steady outflow of dollars.
In this situation I'm sure we all would put a great deal of thought into how our dollars were used, and it would be difficult to divert our attention even for a short time and not be in control of how a few of those dollars were used.
This is exactly how it is with time. It cannot be stopped, it cannot be slowed, it cannot be saved for use later. And to top it all off, there's no way to see where it's going. Moving forward in time is like driving a car down a freeway at a constant speed (that cannot be altered), and you can only see through the back window; you can't see forward at all! This lack of foresight makes responsible allocation of time even more valuable and necessary.
Once again I'd like to refer to a principle of economics: the concept of opportunity cost. An opportunity cost is the greatest thing that is forgone in order to acquire a particular asset. For example, suppose I have $500, and I choose to purchase a new guitar with it. Before buying it, I try to figure out the next best thing I could buy with that same money. After a reasonable amount of deliberation, I determine that the next most valuable thing for $500 would be a shiny pair of high heels, and determining that I wouldn't have a lot of use for them, I easily choose the guitar. My example is humorous, but the point I'm trying to illustrate is that in economics, the next best thing that is foregone is actually considered a cost. If I buy the guitar, it's as if I'm losing the shoes. For a more applicable example, imagine my family is starving, and I spend our only money on a new guitar. My opportunity cost, that which is lost, is food for my family. And I've lost my ability to provide it for them.
Once again, the principle of opportunity cost can be applied to time as well. And it applies constantly, at every moment. Right now, I've chosen to work on this blog post. My opportunity cost is the homework that I need to get done. I'm not very worried because I have several days to complete it, and I'm already almost done. But if it were due in one hour, I definitely wouldn't be doing this right now!
I think the principle of opportunity cost would be very helpful in managing our time wisely. Knowing what we are giving up in order to gain something else is an effective way to determine the value of what we're trying to gain.
The difficulty is that sometimes this can result in an obsessive tendency to over-analyze every single action and almost be afraid to do anything because we imagine that there might be a better use of our time. Hopefully not many people would fall into this trap, but I'm definitely one who struggles with it. Obviously, making ourselves crazy isn't the optimal result of such consideration of how we spend our time. There is a balanced way to approach the whole issue. I haven't yet determined the best method for determining that balance, but I feel that most of time I achieve an acceptable balance without driving myself crazy. However, there's always room for improvement.
If I were ever given the opportunity to design a universe, I think I would make one in which time could be deferred like monetary transactions. Saving money is simply using present earnings for future purchases, and borrowing is using future earnings for present purchases. In other words, saving and borrowing is simply playing around with time, in a way. If only the same could be done with time! If only it were possible save up the moments during which not a lot is happening, and use them later when they would be much more valuable! Such a concept is difficult to imagine, but I'm sure it would be a power far too great to be wielded responsibly by human beings...
In the end, the bottom line is that the degree to which we value time is ultimately reflected not by how much we say we value it, but by the way in which actually use it. One of the most powerful things we can do for ourselves would be to ascribe to time the value that it actually has (which is still, I'm sure, much more than we could possibly understand).
As far as the best way to achieve this, I'm no better equipped to determine this than anyone else. The way I view it is based on regrets. If I had to name my biggest fear, it would be wasting opportunities that I can never get back. Therefore, the way I try to live is simply to do my best to avoid any ways of spending my time that I would regret due to the opportunities I had passed up. I suppose, when I reach the end of my life, I'll finally be able to determine if I was successful!
No doubt we're not accustomed to thinking of time as a resource. That's unfortunate, though, because I think there would be significant benefits if we did. I assume nearly all of us would say that time is very valuable, but it's troubling sometimes to see how frequently it's wasted (and at times I admit I'm as guilty as anyone else). Nevertheless, we may all agree that time is valuable. But why exactly is it so valuable?
I think one way to answer that question would utilize the principle of scarcity in economics. One way to define economics is the study of how people satisfy their needs and desires by acquiring scarce resources. "Scarce" simply means finite and limited. Suppose that on our planet we had an unlimited supply of water. As a result there would be no competition to acquire water because everyone's needs could be met without depriving anyone else. But on the flip side, imagine that there are only 100 gallons of (drinkable) water left on the planet, and no way to acquire more. Suddenly water would be in very high demand (to put it lightly). If any of those gallons were being sold, the price would be astronomically high. In a situation like that the demand for water would almost certainly be so high that people would kill for it. These are two very different scenarios, and the only difference between them is the amount of water that is available.
Therefore, the basic principle is that things become more valuable as they become more scarce. Each gallon of water is much more valuable when there are only 100. If time is considered a resource, then it's no exception to this rule. Within the next hour of your life, you might watch TV, read a book, go on Facebook, or any number of things. You probably won't worry too much about how you're going to spend that hour because you expect to have many more hours in your life. But imagine for a moment how valuable that hour would be if you knew you only had 100 hours left to live!
I think that most of us become increasingly aware of the importance of time as we get older. I think one of the most powerful things that a child could understand is how important it is to use his or her time wisely. Sadly, most people at a very young age simply haven't reached the point in their maturity to fully grasp this concept. It's unfortunate because that's exactly when we have the most time. Gradually, as we get older, two things happen:
The first is that our lives become busier. We go to school, we get jobs, we have families, and we find ourselves with less and less free time.
The other thing that happens is that time itself seems to go faster as we get older. I used to puzzle about why this happens, and my best guess is that it's a difference in perspective based on comparison. In other words, the year during which a child is two years old probably seems like a lifetime. Why? Because it is a lifetime to that child. With only one year through which to look back, one more year is 50% of that child's cumulative life. As the child ages, one year will become smaller and smaller portions of the child's entire life. By the time we reach adulthood, one year is relatively very small compared to the total time we've lived thus far, and will seem rather short as a result.
The problem is increased when we reflect on the fact that as we get older, we have less and less time before us. Simultaneously, two things are happening: we learn more and more how valuable time is, and we constantly lose it. As we become more equipped to use our time wisely, we lose more and more time to use wisely.
To refer once more to imagining time as a resource, one way to look at it is to imagine that at the beginning of our lives we are given a certain amount of money (we don't know exactly how much), and there's no way to increase that amount. Then, once each minute, one dollar is taken from us, and there's no way to stop it. There's only one thing over which we have control: what is done with the dollar. We can spend it on something useless like junk food, or it can be used for a wise investment. But one thing is for certain: we cannot stop the steady outflow of dollars.
In this situation I'm sure we all would put a great deal of thought into how our dollars were used, and it would be difficult to divert our attention even for a short time and not be in control of how a few of those dollars were used.
This is exactly how it is with time. It cannot be stopped, it cannot be slowed, it cannot be saved for use later. And to top it all off, there's no way to see where it's going. Moving forward in time is like driving a car down a freeway at a constant speed (that cannot be altered), and you can only see through the back window; you can't see forward at all! This lack of foresight makes responsible allocation of time even more valuable and necessary.
Once again I'd like to refer to a principle of economics: the concept of opportunity cost. An opportunity cost is the greatest thing that is forgone in order to acquire a particular asset. For example, suppose I have $500, and I choose to purchase a new guitar with it. Before buying it, I try to figure out the next best thing I could buy with that same money. After a reasonable amount of deliberation, I determine that the next most valuable thing for $500 would be a shiny pair of high heels, and determining that I wouldn't have a lot of use for them, I easily choose the guitar. My example is humorous, but the point I'm trying to illustrate is that in economics, the next best thing that is foregone is actually considered a cost. If I buy the guitar, it's as if I'm losing the shoes. For a more applicable example, imagine my family is starving, and I spend our only money on a new guitar. My opportunity cost, that which is lost, is food for my family. And I've lost my ability to provide it for them.
Once again, the principle of opportunity cost can be applied to time as well. And it applies constantly, at every moment. Right now, I've chosen to work on this blog post. My opportunity cost is the homework that I need to get done. I'm not very worried because I have several days to complete it, and I'm already almost done. But if it were due in one hour, I definitely wouldn't be doing this right now!
I think the principle of opportunity cost would be very helpful in managing our time wisely. Knowing what we are giving up in order to gain something else is an effective way to determine the value of what we're trying to gain.
The difficulty is that sometimes this can result in an obsessive tendency to over-analyze every single action and almost be afraid to do anything because we imagine that there might be a better use of our time. Hopefully not many people would fall into this trap, but I'm definitely one who struggles with it. Obviously, making ourselves crazy isn't the optimal result of such consideration of how we spend our time. There is a balanced way to approach the whole issue. I haven't yet determined the best method for determining that balance, but I feel that most of time I achieve an acceptable balance without driving myself crazy. However, there's always room for improvement.
If I were ever given the opportunity to design a universe, I think I would make one in which time could be deferred like monetary transactions. Saving money is simply using present earnings for future purchases, and borrowing is using future earnings for present purchases. In other words, saving and borrowing is simply playing around with time, in a way. If only the same could be done with time! If only it were possible save up the moments during which not a lot is happening, and use them later when they would be much more valuable! Such a concept is difficult to imagine, but I'm sure it would be a power far too great to be wielded responsibly by human beings...
In the end, the bottom line is that the degree to which we value time is ultimately reflected not by how much we say we value it, but by the way in which actually use it. One of the most powerful things we can do for ourselves would be to ascribe to time the value that it actually has (which is still, I'm sure, much more than we could possibly understand).
As far as the best way to achieve this, I'm no better equipped to determine this than anyone else. The way I view it is based on regrets. If I had to name my biggest fear, it would be wasting opportunities that I can never get back. Therefore, the way I try to live is simply to do my best to avoid any ways of spending my time that I would regret due to the opportunities I had passed up. I suppose, when I reach the end of my life, I'll finally be able to determine if I was successful!
Monday, February 25, 2013
Expression
I've decided to make my first post a sort of introduction to just about everything I post subsequently. The title of this post reflects that anything written is a form of expression, and, as I'll soon explain, it is a combination of my strong desire and lack of ability to effectively express myself that prompted my decision to write a blog in the first place.
Before I continue, I feel the need to clarify my use of the term "expression." I mean it as a verb, not a noun. In other words, I mean "to express", rather than an expression that someone might say.
As you will learn quickly if you continue to read future posts, I tend to over-analyze absolutely everything; it's how I gain an (admittedly) limited understanding of the world. In order to analyze the meaning and application of the word "expression", I'll use a metaphor. Jets, of course, differ from airplanes with propellers by utilizing a different method of propulsion. A jet takes in air at the front of the aircraft, mixes it with fuel internally, and then blows the exhaust out the back, pushing the jet forward through the air. In life, we intake information through our five senses; that's the air intake at the front of the jet. Next, we process that information in our minds by thinking about it, analyzing it, interpreting it, reflecting on it, and reacting to it, all through the influence and guidance from whatever mental framework we have developed throughout our lives thus far from experiences; that's the internal mixing of the fuel and air. The exhaust coming out of the back of the jet is, of course, expression. With that in mind, my perspective on the concept of expression is as follows..
Expression is a method used to communicate thoughts, feelings, and emotions. These thoughts, feelings, and emotions are the result of external information entered into our brains, and they occur within our heads. Obviously, no one else is able to see exactly what's going on inside our own heads. Therefore, we must rely on some form of expression to communicate those internal things to others. And that expression can take several forms:
1. Verbal Expression (communication using words)
2. Non-verbal Expression (body language, actions, the way we dress, etc.)
3. Musical/artistic/other forms of Expression (expression of feelings and emotions through musical composition or improvisation, artwork, or any other method not specifically mentioned)
With all this in mind, I can now return to one of my original points: I am not very skilled at expressing myself.
However, as soon as I've made this statement, I must clarify that it's not entirely true, at least in the form in which it's currently stated. People who know me know that I'm a fairly "blank" person. In other words, it's difficult to deduce what I'm thinking/feeling unless I state it explicitly. And I rarely ever state it explicitly. I grew up all these years believing somewhat that I'm simply an unemotional person who mainly operates under the influences of logic and rationality. But over time, I came to realize that, in fact, the opposite was true; in fact, I feel a great deal, and I often experience emotions that are as deep as I ever could have imagined they might be. The problem was simply that I had great difficulty expressing the thoughts and feelings occurring in my head. To put it another way, the air was entering the jet just fine, and the internal mixing of reaction and pondering of the input was fine as well. The problem was in the exhaust. Somewhere in the process of actually expressing what was in my head, there was a difficulty in translation. And there could be (and probably are) many reasons for this, but while I may write about them in the future, at the present moment, we won't worry about it. We'll just accept that I felt and thought many things and simply had difficulty expressing them outwardly.
But here I return to my point about clarifying that that statement isn't entirely true. In fact, I discovered over time, I'm actually very good at expressing myself. The problem I have is that I'm not good at expressing myself verbally. And anyone who has had a conversation with me can testify to this fact. True, sometimes I speak without difficulty, but often it's only with the people with whom I'm the most comfortable. Otherwise, I experience many difficulties. My main problem is the inconsistency of the speed of my brain and my mouth, a problem that caused me to stutter when I was young. My brain moves at a pace that makes it difficult for my mouth to keep up, and as a result, my mouth stumbles all over itself, often making me sound like a complete idiot when I'm speaking (and please note that I mainly find it humorous that I have such difficulties...I'm certainly not whining about it). Sometimes I still stutter briefly. I also hesitate, speak in an awkward way, and even mispronounce words (usually because my brain, being ahead of my mouth, causes me to try to say multiple words at once). This problem has led me to plan out conversations in advance when I deemed them especially important; otherwise, I might end up forgetting everything I needed to say, and I certainly couldn't count on the shaky partnership between my mouth and brain to salvage what's left of the conversation at that point. At times I've actually practiced a conversation in my head for an entire week or two before actually having it.
My point in saying all that is that, having realized my deficiency in verbal communication, rather than simply settle for it, I've put much effort into mastering other forms of expression, such as non-verbal and musical, to make up for my pitiful verbal skills (and I may write more about that some time in the future). But in addition to that, over time, I've come to realize that I've also learned to exploit a loophole that allows me to claim proficiency in the verbal category of expression as well. You see, under my categorization, writing is a type of verbal communication! And through many years I've developed my writing ability quite a bit, particularly through a diary that I kept since age 10.
The problem with a diary, however, is that it's likely that no one else will ever see it. A blog, however, solves that problem. I find writing easier and more effective than speaking because I can take my time and think as much as I want before anyone ever encounters what I'm saying. As I look at the screen in front of me, I see a "save" button next to the "publish" button, enabling me to save this entire blog and work on it and review it later before publishing it (and I'm quite sure I'm going to do that).
And that is my main purpose for writing a blog: to express myself in the most effective way. Expression, in the end, is an outlet resulting from a reactions to and thoughts and feelings about input. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that outlet of this type is essential for all of us to maintain a reasonable level of sanity. I don't just like to write... I need to write. And this is one of the reasons I'm often so wordy when I write, as well as the reason that I usually write so much: I don't often have the luxury of adequately expressing myself by speaking, so I make up for it later with pen and paper (or keyboard and computer).
My last point to make is that I do have one fear; the thought of people reading my expressions and learning about all the strange and interesting things that go on inside my head is indeed exciting. But in my very practical and often pessimistic mind, the chances of very many people ever stumbling upon this page seem slim. And that's just half the battle; how many of those who actually do visit my page will actually have the patience to read through such long posts, or care enough about the things I'm saying to continue reading? In other words, will it be worth it, in the end, to write a blog at all?
This question/fear has stopped me for a very long time from writing. But I guess I finally realized that with so many things in life, you just can't make half an effort. You either give it everything you have, or you don't do it at all. Either 0%, or 100%. So I've decided to go for broke. Perhaps I'll spend hours writing all these things and no one (or very few) will ever read them. But I might as well do my best, put my heart into it, and see what happens. After all, we fail 100% of the attempts we don't make. With that perspective, I have nothing to lose.
If you read this, I hope that you enjoyed it, and I look forward to expressing myself and sharing my inner thoughts in the future. Hopefully I will be able to be a small part of brightening someone's day, filling in the boring in-between moments that we all have sometimes, or helping people to think more deeply about the world around them. And along the way, maybe I'll even help people to better understand me as well.
Before I continue, I feel the need to clarify my use of the term "expression." I mean it as a verb, not a noun. In other words, I mean "to express", rather than an expression that someone might say.
As you will learn quickly if you continue to read future posts, I tend to over-analyze absolutely everything; it's how I gain an (admittedly) limited understanding of the world. In order to analyze the meaning and application of the word "expression", I'll use a metaphor. Jets, of course, differ from airplanes with propellers by utilizing a different method of propulsion. A jet takes in air at the front of the aircraft, mixes it with fuel internally, and then blows the exhaust out the back, pushing the jet forward through the air. In life, we intake information through our five senses; that's the air intake at the front of the jet. Next, we process that information in our minds by thinking about it, analyzing it, interpreting it, reflecting on it, and reacting to it, all through the influence and guidance from whatever mental framework we have developed throughout our lives thus far from experiences; that's the internal mixing of the fuel and air. The exhaust coming out of the back of the jet is, of course, expression. With that in mind, my perspective on the concept of expression is as follows..
Expression is a method used to communicate thoughts, feelings, and emotions. These thoughts, feelings, and emotions are the result of external information entered into our brains, and they occur within our heads. Obviously, no one else is able to see exactly what's going on inside our own heads. Therefore, we must rely on some form of expression to communicate those internal things to others. And that expression can take several forms:
1. Verbal Expression (communication using words)
2. Non-verbal Expression (body language, actions, the way we dress, etc.)
3. Musical/artistic/other forms of Expression (expression of feelings and emotions through musical composition or improvisation, artwork, or any other method not specifically mentioned)
With all this in mind, I can now return to one of my original points: I am not very skilled at expressing myself.
However, as soon as I've made this statement, I must clarify that it's not entirely true, at least in the form in which it's currently stated. People who know me know that I'm a fairly "blank" person. In other words, it's difficult to deduce what I'm thinking/feeling unless I state it explicitly. And I rarely ever state it explicitly. I grew up all these years believing somewhat that I'm simply an unemotional person who mainly operates under the influences of logic and rationality. But over time, I came to realize that, in fact, the opposite was true; in fact, I feel a great deal, and I often experience emotions that are as deep as I ever could have imagined they might be. The problem was simply that I had great difficulty expressing the thoughts and feelings occurring in my head. To put it another way, the air was entering the jet just fine, and the internal mixing of reaction and pondering of the input was fine as well. The problem was in the exhaust. Somewhere in the process of actually expressing what was in my head, there was a difficulty in translation. And there could be (and probably are) many reasons for this, but while I may write about them in the future, at the present moment, we won't worry about it. We'll just accept that I felt and thought many things and simply had difficulty expressing them outwardly.
But here I return to my point about clarifying that that statement isn't entirely true. In fact, I discovered over time, I'm actually very good at expressing myself. The problem I have is that I'm not good at expressing myself verbally. And anyone who has had a conversation with me can testify to this fact. True, sometimes I speak without difficulty, but often it's only with the people with whom I'm the most comfortable. Otherwise, I experience many difficulties. My main problem is the inconsistency of the speed of my brain and my mouth, a problem that caused me to stutter when I was young. My brain moves at a pace that makes it difficult for my mouth to keep up, and as a result, my mouth stumbles all over itself, often making me sound like a complete idiot when I'm speaking (and please note that I mainly find it humorous that I have such difficulties...I'm certainly not whining about it). Sometimes I still stutter briefly. I also hesitate, speak in an awkward way, and even mispronounce words (usually because my brain, being ahead of my mouth, causes me to try to say multiple words at once). This problem has led me to plan out conversations in advance when I deemed them especially important; otherwise, I might end up forgetting everything I needed to say, and I certainly couldn't count on the shaky partnership between my mouth and brain to salvage what's left of the conversation at that point. At times I've actually practiced a conversation in my head for an entire week or two before actually having it.
My point in saying all that is that, having realized my deficiency in verbal communication, rather than simply settle for it, I've put much effort into mastering other forms of expression, such as non-verbal and musical, to make up for my pitiful verbal skills (and I may write more about that some time in the future). But in addition to that, over time, I've come to realize that I've also learned to exploit a loophole that allows me to claim proficiency in the verbal category of expression as well. You see, under my categorization, writing is a type of verbal communication! And through many years I've developed my writing ability quite a bit, particularly through a diary that I kept since age 10.
The problem with a diary, however, is that it's likely that no one else will ever see it. A blog, however, solves that problem. I find writing easier and more effective than speaking because I can take my time and think as much as I want before anyone ever encounters what I'm saying. As I look at the screen in front of me, I see a "save" button next to the "publish" button, enabling me to save this entire blog and work on it and review it later before publishing it (and I'm quite sure I'm going to do that).
And that is my main purpose for writing a blog: to express myself in the most effective way. Expression, in the end, is an outlet resulting from a reactions to and thoughts and feelings about input. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that outlet of this type is essential for all of us to maintain a reasonable level of sanity. I don't just like to write... I need to write. And this is one of the reasons I'm often so wordy when I write, as well as the reason that I usually write so much: I don't often have the luxury of adequately expressing myself by speaking, so I make up for it later with pen and paper (or keyboard and computer).
My last point to make is that I do have one fear; the thought of people reading my expressions and learning about all the strange and interesting things that go on inside my head is indeed exciting. But in my very practical and often pessimistic mind, the chances of very many people ever stumbling upon this page seem slim. And that's just half the battle; how many of those who actually do visit my page will actually have the patience to read through such long posts, or care enough about the things I'm saying to continue reading? In other words, will it be worth it, in the end, to write a blog at all?
This question/fear has stopped me for a very long time from writing. But I guess I finally realized that with so many things in life, you just can't make half an effort. You either give it everything you have, or you don't do it at all. Either 0%, or 100%. So I've decided to go for broke. Perhaps I'll spend hours writing all these things and no one (or very few) will ever read them. But I might as well do my best, put my heart into it, and see what happens. After all, we fail 100% of the attempts we don't make. With that perspective, I have nothing to lose.
If you read this, I hope that you enjoyed it, and I look forward to expressing myself and sharing my inner thoughts in the future. Hopefully I will be able to be a small part of brightening someone's day, filling in the boring in-between moments that we all have sometimes, or helping people to think more deeply about the world around them. And along the way, maybe I'll even help people to better understand me as well.
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