Introspection
Nov. 2nd, 2009 09:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolorosa_12While I was talking on Skype with my mother on Sunday, we had a minor disagreement about something we've argued about in the past. After a day of reflection, I can see why we argued: she misunderstood something which I had said.
I said that one reason why I thought I struggled so badly with original writing (be it fiction or my academic work) and found reviewing (whether it be on my blogs, for the paper or reviewing academic scholarship) so much fun was because I'm a rather passive, reactive person. I want to absorb other people's ideas, mull of them for a while, and then spew out my reaction for all the world to see.
My mother took this to mean that I preferred to wait for someone to rescue me, viewing myself as a passive victim of circumstances. This is just about the worst crime in her book, and she is justified in interpreting my statement in that way. I was like this, to a certain extent, in the past.
I used to get incredibly angry when circumstances didn't go my way, or when people behaved in a way that didn't suit my temperament and tastes. A classic example is that I dislike spontaneity intensely, and would get extremely angry at my friends if they called me up and invited me out for something on the day. 'Why couldn't they have organised it in advance?' I would fume. 'I've already planned what I wanted and expected to do this evening, and now I've got to do something different.' But I would never tell my friends that I found this extremely annoying, and instead would go to the events and have a miserable time, or I would make an excuse to avoid the events and sit at home being angry.
At some point, however, I realised that I was being ridiculous. Clearly, I liked my friends. And clearly, I enjoyed spending time with them, as demonstrated by the numerous, non-spontaneous times we would hang out and would have fun.
This is when I learned one of my most important life lessons. The world is an annoying place. People don't always behave how you would like them to behave. Circumstances don't always suit you, and in some cases circumstances change from something that suits you to something that you find vile, irritating and enraging. But you cannot change people, and you cannot change most circumstances: the most you can do is remove yourself or avoid things that irritate you. All you can change is yourself, and if you do not want to do so, that clearly means that circumstances aren't as annoying as you imagined. If you can avoid or endure things which you find unpleasant, they're clearly not that bad.
(I should note that I'm talking here about the 'annoying' things from a privileged position: unpleasant jobs, people talking loudly in the library, 'spontaneous' friends. I am certainly not suggesting that truly horrific circumstances are endurable, or should be endured.)
So when I talk about 'passivity', I'm not talking about being a victim. I'm not even talking about stoicism. In fact, my 'passivity' is pretty active. React to your circumstances by changing the only thing you can: yourself. People are not going to change for you. It's unpleasant, but it's the truth.
I said that one reason why I thought I struggled so badly with original writing (be it fiction or my academic work) and found reviewing (whether it be on my blogs, for the paper or reviewing academic scholarship) so much fun was because I'm a rather passive, reactive person. I want to absorb other people's ideas, mull of them for a while, and then spew out my reaction for all the world to see.
My mother took this to mean that I preferred to wait for someone to rescue me, viewing myself as a passive victim of circumstances. This is just about the worst crime in her book, and she is justified in interpreting my statement in that way. I was like this, to a certain extent, in the past.
I used to get incredibly angry when circumstances didn't go my way, or when people behaved in a way that didn't suit my temperament and tastes. A classic example is that I dislike spontaneity intensely, and would get extremely angry at my friends if they called me up and invited me out for something on the day. 'Why couldn't they have organised it in advance?' I would fume. 'I've already planned what I wanted and expected to do this evening, and now I've got to do something different.' But I would never tell my friends that I found this extremely annoying, and instead would go to the events and have a miserable time, or I would make an excuse to avoid the events and sit at home being angry.
At some point, however, I realised that I was being ridiculous. Clearly, I liked my friends. And clearly, I enjoyed spending time with them, as demonstrated by the numerous, non-spontaneous times we would hang out and would have fun.
This is when I learned one of my most important life lessons. The world is an annoying place. People don't always behave how you would like them to behave. Circumstances don't always suit you, and in some cases circumstances change from something that suits you to something that you find vile, irritating and enraging. But you cannot change people, and you cannot change most circumstances: the most you can do is remove yourself or avoid things that irritate you. All you can change is yourself, and if you do not want to do so, that clearly means that circumstances aren't as annoying as you imagined. If you can avoid or endure things which you find unpleasant, they're clearly not that bad.
(I should note that I'm talking here about the 'annoying' things from a privileged position: unpleasant jobs, people talking loudly in the library, 'spontaneous' friends. I am certainly not suggesting that truly horrific circumstances are endurable, or should be endured.)
So when I talk about 'passivity', I'm not talking about being a victim. I'm not even talking about stoicism. In fact, my 'passivity' is pretty active. React to your circumstances by changing the only thing you can: yourself. People are not going to change for you. It's unpleasant, but it's the truth.
