Sitcoms (so called "situation comedies") suck.
The men are selfish idiots, the women are vindictive colluders, and lies abound. So much so that dishonesty is often the basic premise of any given plot, covered up through successively outrageous acts until they all reconcile in the last 10 minutes (so that the non-sequential re-run viewing won't have to rely on absolute canon) with little consequence. The general sense of dissatisfaction is still maintained for the next episode.
The suspension of disbelief required to even humor the characters is also intended to make even a mundane, common sense pithy statement come across as profound. Because real insight is probably too expensive.
I'd take a good pie-fight over the typical sitcom - at least there isn't any delusion about more grandiose treatment of the elements of which they're constructed. And meringue is good for cleansing the pallet.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Friday, October 14, 2005
End of Meditation
9 years ago tonight (October 14th) I sat alone in my dimly lit bedroom, cross-legged on the floor with my back against the door (I don't like surprises while I meditate).
This was a time of amazing discipline for me both physically and mentally (emotionally was another story, and has been a focus for the last several years to look after that adolescent deficiency). The level of meditation I regularly achieved was immersive and potent - intimate and poignant reflection in a state of focus and rest completely detached from time and layered against a sense of different space. Even now as I remember it my pulse accelerates, breath deepens, pupils dilate, and I even begin to salivate: responses similar to withdrawal from chemical dependency.
Imagine if you will, an endless and featureless plane stretched out before you. There is no light, though if there were it would be dim and all things only roughly outlined. Eyes here are useless - it is the sense of the plane which matters, and only to serve as a baseline to say "here is this world." Despite the perpetual distance there is also a sense of fall-off where it leaves the mind's eye, where it ceases to be considered because it does not matter.
Upon this plane, sitting in this meditative posture, is the shape of self: myself, yourself - the self of the observer. Again, this is simply isolated shape - inside and outside, separated by a simple barrier to define the boundary and nothing else. The primordial non-light is thicker and darker within this shape, but it too is endless. This shape is the meditative self, only in a familiar physical form because that is how it is imagined, and belongs to this world. Now introduce the first object into this place: a candle.
This is not how my meditation would typically progress - candles are a nice ambiance but didn't provide anything meaningful for me personally. It serves here to illustrate a sensation that I have no other reference to describe.
Ponder the heat of the candle in this place, as it radiates against the skin boundary of that imagined self. The candle is then placed within the self, and the radiance felt from within. The foreign object is nevertheless internalized and incorporated into the awareness of the abstract specter.
Here comes the real kick: change the (still internalized) candle into the radiant shape of another person - a similar sense of self, belonging to another. The stream of subverbalized thought, the depth of emotion and spiritual conviction comprising the conscious essence of the individual, creating an undeniable personal signature. A signature already imprinted on the subconscious of the viewer but only produced to awareness in this specific context.
It's amazing to me what the mind remembers that it never seemed to know before when given an opportunity to explore and a vocabulary with which to speak. In this case, that other signature already is present, but not contemplated or remembered until here.
In this context I would meditate - feeling the hearts and thoughts of those close to me, both in proximity and as entrusted with my affection or confidence. This active and intimate connection takes place on the level of unspoken emotion and bits of spirit, or so it would feel to be. Words take a back-seat as a clumsy and inexact metaphor to frame this much richer world of sensation. Communication takes place, but in a literal heart to heart way (emotion may originate physically in the amygdala, and be expressed via complex endocrine secretions throughout the body, but in this sense of depth "heart" is a very good and very real label for how they can be referenced).
During my meditation on that fateful Monday night something happened. I descended to the state described crudely above, and connected to someone close to me. She and I were in the process of breaking up, actually - but still on good terms. However, something she had said in our conversation earlier that night (on the telephone) hadn't rung quite true with me - that "[I] wasn't ready for [her]." Which is not to say that I did not believe her; rather, in listening closely to subtle verbal cues it sounded as though this was the best way she knew to express a feeling and conclusion for which she had no other words. Perhaps similar to taking a picture of a hologram - some level of detail is lost in the verbal translation. Dissatisfying, but the best she had to work with and that was that.
For her. I was still dissatisfied. Without concrete understanding of the situation, how could I hope to remedy whatever flaw had led to the demise of the relationship? Not between her and I - we had been growing apart for some time. Instead, for the future, for myself as a point of growth. Also to achieve closure in general and not leave the unresolved taste in my mouth; I needed to know. I still have difficulty letting go of unresolved questions like this.
The connection with her was immersive, as always. Tender and honest - there is no other way it can be done - and unique. There was, this time, an extra edge to the reality of the experience, a raw element of energy playing in a pseudo-physical aire. Continuing to abuse the visualization laid out above, the plane became filled her essence. Thought and emotion ran together to create shapes in a spatial display to make the complex environ navigable. I found the conscious thought stream, and felt her pondering on the things of that night as I had been. I prodded - she knew I was there, and that this was part of my way - this was not an unfamiliar intrusion, as we had similarly been effused many times before. The interjections I made were to steer in the direction of the feeling she had voiced. A question of, "what exactly was it [she] felt?"
Her frustration at the incomplete expression surfaced, and I retreated to show understanding - not out of the connected experience, but from the prodding. Indicating I had no wish to cause distress but rather to understand, and she needn't attempt to define the motivation: only show it to me, if she could. More relaxed, she continued. Just around the bend of thought I felt it coming, that elusive and nuanced article.
None of this represents the strangeness of that evening, and so far is par for this form of meditation. The strange thing happened next: something hit me, almost tangibly.
It was as though a voice had been speaking the whole time in the background, unheard until the volume increased and/or proximity decreased. I felt it move from ahead of me and to my left to directly before my imagined face, and heard as it did so, "...and this is over." It came across as a stern reprimand with startling (but not violent) finality, and immediately upon hearing the words I found myself as I was - sitting on the floor of the room with my back to the door, and nearly an hour's time passed. The voice had not felt like hers.
I could not reestablish the connection. Nor the next night. Other's around me began to take notice as I failed to have my typically projected presence around me (on the plus side, I could sneak up on them again). Even J, a friend skeptical of the whole process, was forced to proclaim, "Dude - your brain's like Swiss cheese!" Indeed, I felt broken.
Eventually I reclaimed a minor measure of the same control - but the candle has never been within me since. I can see it afar, feel its radiant warmth, but never bond or connect internally. There is a bitterness hanging over the imposed distance, and I feel robbed.
There were too many experiences throughout the 5 years of developing the talent for me to dismiss this all as a fanciful trick of my mind in creating a spatialized reference of imagined (or remembered from the subconscious from previous interaction) content. Too many active examples, some with documentation; most, however, difficult to put to those terms.
I have no glass to raise in remembrance. No ritual of mourning or moment of silence. This is the first homage I've paid to it with any energy. Recalling it has been both painful and intoxicating. Mostly painful.
I long to touch it all again.
Is this fiction? Leave your comments.
This was a time of amazing discipline for me both physically and mentally (emotionally was another story, and has been a focus for the last several years to look after that adolescent deficiency). The level of meditation I regularly achieved was immersive and potent - intimate and poignant reflection in a state of focus and rest completely detached from time and layered against a sense of different space. Even now as I remember it my pulse accelerates, breath deepens, pupils dilate, and I even begin to salivate: responses similar to withdrawal from chemical dependency.
Imagine if you will, an endless and featureless plane stretched out before you. There is no light, though if there were it would be dim and all things only roughly outlined. Eyes here are useless - it is the sense of the plane which matters, and only to serve as a baseline to say "here is this world." Despite the perpetual distance there is also a sense of fall-off where it leaves the mind's eye, where it ceases to be considered because it does not matter.
Upon this plane, sitting in this meditative posture, is the shape of self: myself, yourself - the self of the observer. Again, this is simply isolated shape - inside and outside, separated by a simple barrier to define the boundary and nothing else. The primordial non-light is thicker and darker within this shape, but it too is endless. This shape is the meditative self, only in a familiar physical form because that is how it is imagined, and belongs to this world. Now introduce the first object into this place: a candle.
This is not how my meditation would typically progress - candles are a nice ambiance but didn't provide anything meaningful for me personally. It serves here to illustrate a sensation that I have no other reference to describe.
Ponder the heat of the candle in this place, as it radiates against the skin boundary of that imagined self. The candle is then placed within the self, and the radiance felt from within. The foreign object is nevertheless internalized and incorporated into the awareness of the abstract specter.
Here comes the real kick: change the (still internalized) candle into the radiant shape of another person - a similar sense of self, belonging to another. The stream of subverbalized thought, the depth of emotion and spiritual conviction comprising the conscious essence of the individual, creating an undeniable personal signature. A signature already imprinted on the subconscious of the viewer but only produced to awareness in this specific context.
It's amazing to me what the mind remembers that it never seemed to know before when given an opportunity to explore and a vocabulary with which to speak. In this case, that other signature already is present, but not contemplated or remembered until here.
In this context I would meditate - feeling the hearts and thoughts of those close to me, both in proximity and as entrusted with my affection or confidence. This active and intimate connection takes place on the level of unspoken emotion and bits of spirit, or so it would feel to be. Words take a back-seat as a clumsy and inexact metaphor to frame this much richer world of sensation. Communication takes place, but in a literal heart to heart way (emotion may originate physically in the amygdala, and be expressed via complex endocrine secretions throughout the body, but in this sense of depth "heart" is a very good and very real label for how they can be referenced).
During my meditation on that fateful Monday night something happened. I descended to the state described crudely above, and connected to someone close to me. She and I were in the process of breaking up, actually - but still on good terms. However, something she had said in our conversation earlier that night (on the telephone) hadn't rung quite true with me - that "[I] wasn't ready for [her]." Which is not to say that I did not believe her; rather, in listening closely to subtle verbal cues it sounded as though this was the best way she knew to express a feeling and conclusion for which she had no other words. Perhaps similar to taking a picture of a hologram - some level of detail is lost in the verbal translation. Dissatisfying, but the best she had to work with and that was that.
For her. I was still dissatisfied. Without concrete understanding of the situation, how could I hope to remedy whatever flaw had led to the demise of the relationship? Not between her and I - we had been growing apart for some time. Instead, for the future, for myself as a point of growth. Also to achieve closure in general and not leave the unresolved taste in my mouth; I needed to know. I still have difficulty letting go of unresolved questions like this.
The connection with her was immersive, as always. Tender and honest - there is no other way it can be done - and unique. There was, this time, an extra edge to the reality of the experience, a raw element of energy playing in a pseudo-physical aire. Continuing to abuse the visualization laid out above, the plane became filled her essence. Thought and emotion ran together to create shapes in a spatial display to make the complex environ navigable. I found the conscious thought stream, and felt her pondering on the things of that night as I had been. I prodded - she knew I was there, and that this was part of my way - this was not an unfamiliar intrusion, as we had similarly been effused many times before. The interjections I made were to steer in the direction of the feeling she had voiced. A question of, "what exactly was it [she] felt?"
Her frustration at the incomplete expression surfaced, and I retreated to show understanding - not out of the connected experience, but from the prodding. Indicating I had no wish to cause distress but rather to understand, and she needn't attempt to define the motivation: only show it to me, if she could. More relaxed, she continued. Just around the bend of thought I felt it coming, that elusive and nuanced article.
None of this represents the strangeness of that evening, and so far is par for this form of meditation. The strange thing happened next: something hit me, almost tangibly.
It was as though a voice had been speaking the whole time in the background, unheard until the volume increased and/or proximity decreased. I felt it move from ahead of me and to my left to directly before my imagined face, and heard as it did so, "...and this is over." It came across as a stern reprimand with startling (but not violent) finality, and immediately upon hearing the words I found myself as I was - sitting on the floor of the room with my back to the door, and nearly an hour's time passed. The voice had not felt like hers.
I could not reestablish the connection. Nor the next night. Other's around me began to take notice as I failed to have my typically projected presence around me (on the plus side, I could sneak up on them again). Even J, a friend skeptical of the whole process, was forced to proclaim, "Dude - your brain's like Swiss cheese!" Indeed, I felt broken.
Eventually I reclaimed a minor measure of the same control - but the candle has never been within me since. I can see it afar, feel its radiant warmth, but never bond or connect internally. There is a bitterness hanging over the imposed distance, and I feel robbed.
There were too many experiences throughout the 5 years of developing the talent for me to dismiss this all as a fanciful trick of my mind in creating a spatialized reference of imagined (or remembered from the subconscious from previous interaction) content. Too many active examples, some with documentation; most, however, difficult to put to those terms.
I have no glass to raise in remembrance. No ritual of mourning or moment of silence. This is the first homage I've paid to it with any energy. Recalling it has been both painful and intoxicating. Mostly painful.
I long to touch it all again.
Is this fiction? Leave your comments.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Dispelling Notions of a Misunderstood Genius
The Harry Potter books are wildly successful throughout the world in large part because the title character with which the reader is intended to identify possesses some tremendous capabilities not yet fully revealed, and surprising even to himself. This foreshadowed greatness, rather than creating a weight of responsibility and expectation of equally great burdens, instead focuses on the "hey, look how awesome it will be" factor.
This taps very directly into a typically under-developed sense of personal potential in the reader. Especially in the United States, where the conflicting cultures of "you can do anything you put your mind to" and the mundane reality of "would you like fries with that" create an unresolved inner belief that one is destined for greater things than "this" (current circumstance); and thus never fully accepting the present reality, but detaching, dissociating, and responding with great frustration until much of it collapses unsupported by daily care and attention.
These impressions of unfettered success waiting to be discovered are compounded and artificially inflated by a national preoccupation with celebrity and the massive success of those already well acquainted with privilege. The inner turmoil arising from an inability to reconcile the reaching for stars with the feet on the ground often lead to the middle-management whining and passive-aggressive behaviors so commonly found in the work place; illustrated be the defining points A.2, A.5 and A.6 from the *DSM-IV (TR):
These (among the other points in the same text) create a self-reinforcing perspective of buried greatness, the fulfillment of which is continually deferred. Not wanting to be the reason for the perceived failure (amplified in weight disproportionately high even to the exaggerated concepts of potential), the blame (and often proposed impetus for resolution) is pushed firmly on to others. In its most developed form, any attempted aspiration is also sabotaged by the aspirer in order to maintain the un-happy status quo wherein the identity now lay, and responsibility is still firmly beyond the horizon.
This post is about the mythical genius though, so I'll get back to that.
This desire then, to see oneself as phenomenal (even if unfulfilled or unsupported by evidence, and if not descending into the passive-aggressive behavior pattern) can cause an incompetence expressed in the confidence of the individual so-believing. This person is then unable to see the possible drawbacks of his or her proposed plans of action, feels exempted from the mundane rules (created for "others" to follow), and finds ways of twisting perception of nearly any outcome into a success - which measure of success may often in reality come "in spite of" rather than "because of" the decisions which were made. Give them a little financial backing or relationships to a few connections in "the biz" (whichever "the biz" it my be) and voila: incompetent leadership in prominent and visible positions reinforcing the lot of the stereotypes outlined here (to which I will also add the belief that one need not actually do anything / exert effort to achieve such success).
Genuine successes do exist, with examples of astounding capability untempered by formal training: musical genius of previous centuries (Bach, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky [less recognized in this capacity because he was celebrated somewhat in his own life time, but this can be discussed later]), touted contemporary intelligence in science (Sagan, Eintstein, Hawking), the celebrated savant (a la "Rainman") where supposedly latent mental capacity is brought to light. These extremely rare circumstances do exist.
However, mistaking desire for capacity, and uninhibited confidence for success, do not a savant make. I do firmly believe that most success is as a result of the hard work of those who achieve it, over many many long years of toil. I also believe one must know and recognize inherent limitations and struggle to overcome the same as opposed to deferring to another path still intent on finding that buried genius (for example, believing that some other easy path of little resistence will still yield the unbridled capacity for greatness).
I need to recognize and remember this as much as anyone. Much of my life I've not had to work hard at the acquisition of talent - the environment in which I was raised presented ample opportunity for self-actualization with exposure to sciences, the arts, good literature, and imagination. However, this will only carry me so far - the extents to which I have become much better acquainted in recent years. I'd rather not be satisfied with the limitations as I've encountered them, but I will not be able to easily dismiss or circumvent them. I must better myself through concerted effort in formal education to advance and improve one small step at a time until the hurdles are overcome and I can stand victorious. Much patience, much time and effort. Hopefully with great return.
Wiser people than I have made mistakes I should be learning from - otherwise I, and most all the world, will at best be gifted amateurs.
*p.791 - "Research criteria for passive-aggressive personality disorder": American Psychiatric Association: Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fourth Edition, Text Revision. Washington, DC, American Psychiatric Association, 2000.
This taps very directly into a typically under-developed sense of personal potential in the reader. Especially in the United States, where the conflicting cultures of "you can do anything you put your mind to" and the mundane reality of "would you like fries with that" create an unresolved inner belief that one is destined for greater things than "this" (current circumstance); and thus never fully accepting the present reality, but detaching, dissociating, and responding with great frustration until much of it collapses unsupported by daily care and attention.
These impressions of unfettered success waiting to be discovered are compounded and artificially inflated by a national preoccupation with celebrity and the massive success of those already well acquainted with privilege. The inner turmoil arising from an inability to reconcile the reaching for stars with the feet on the ground often lead to the middle-management whining and passive-aggressive behaviors so commonly found in the work place; illustrated be the defining points A.2, A.5 and A.6 from the *DSM-IV (TR):
- (2) complains of being misunderstood and unappreciated by others
- (5) expresses envy and resentment toward those apparently more fortunate
- (6) voices exaggerated and persistent complaints of personal misfortune
These (among the other points in the same text) create a self-reinforcing perspective of buried greatness, the fulfillment of which is continually deferred. Not wanting to be the reason for the perceived failure (amplified in weight disproportionately high even to the exaggerated concepts of potential), the blame (and often proposed impetus for resolution) is pushed firmly on to others. In its most developed form, any attempted aspiration is also sabotaged by the aspirer in order to maintain the un-happy status quo wherein the identity now lay, and responsibility is still firmly beyond the horizon.
This post is about the mythical genius though, so I'll get back to that.
This desire then, to see oneself as phenomenal (even if unfulfilled or unsupported by evidence, and if not descending into the passive-aggressive behavior pattern) can cause an incompetence expressed in the confidence of the individual so-believing. This person is then unable to see the possible drawbacks of his or her proposed plans of action, feels exempted from the mundane rules (created for "others" to follow), and finds ways of twisting perception of nearly any outcome into a success - which measure of success may often in reality come "in spite of" rather than "because of" the decisions which were made. Give them a little financial backing or relationships to a few connections in "the biz" (whichever "the biz" it my be) and voila: incompetent leadership in prominent and visible positions reinforcing the lot of the stereotypes outlined here (to which I will also add the belief that one need not actually do anything / exert effort to achieve such success).
Genuine successes do exist, with examples of astounding capability untempered by formal training: musical genius of previous centuries (Bach, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky [less recognized in this capacity because he was celebrated somewhat in his own life time, but this can be discussed later]), touted contemporary intelligence in science (Sagan, Eintstein, Hawking), the celebrated savant (a la "Rainman") where supposedly latent mental capacity is brought to light. These extremely rare circumstances do exist.
However, mistaking desire for capacity, and uninhibited confidence for success, do not a savant make. I do firmly believe that most success is as a result of the hard work of those who achieve it, over many many long years of toil. I also believe one must know and recognize inherent limitations and struggle to overcome the same as opposed to deferring to another path still intent on finding that buried genius (for example, believing that some other easy path of little resistence will still yield the unbridled capacity for greatness).
I need to recognize and remember this as much as anyone. Much of my life I've not had to work hard at the acquisition of talent - the environment in which I was raised presented ample opportunity for self-actualization with exposure to sciences, the arts, good literature, and imagination. However, this will only carry me so far - the extents to which I have become much better acquainted in recent years. I'd rather not be satisfied with the limitations as I've encountered them, but I will not be able to easily dismiss or circumvent them. I must better myself through concerted effort in formal education to advance and improve one small step at a time until the hurdles are overcome and I can stand victorious. Much patience, much time and effort. Hopefully with great return.
Wiser people than I have made mistakes I should be learning from - otherwise I, and most all the world, will at best be gifted amateurs.
*p.791 - "Research criteria for passive-aggressive personality disorder": American Psychiatric Association: Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fourth Edition, Text Revision. Washington, DC, American Psychiatric Association, 2000.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Beating the Heat
Once while visiting my hypnotherapy mentor I heard a brief question posed to him in the hall-way outside his office. This as he departed, so I unfortunately didn't hear the answer he provided though I'm almost certain I know what it would have contained in principle.
Outside the atmosphere sizzled at 100 degrees at the time, and had been for days on end with barely any breeze - the stifling air sat oppressively over everything. At least it was a dry heat.
The question related directly to this: "Hey Clark, could you hypnotize someone so they wouldn't feel the heat?"
The answer from a functional perspective is of course Yes - this would be a fairly simple suggestion and task that the sub-conscious would be particularly receptive too. The continuation to this though is that it's a suggestion which shouldn't be entertained regardless of the relief it would bring.
Pain, discomfort, and negative psychological pressure together serve a very important purpose in the protection and preservation of both mind and body. Protection is in fact the primary motivation of the subconscious, coupled with its uncanny knack for automation of simple activity and behavior.
In this case the discomfort resulting from heat acts as a warning flag to care for the body by reducing exposure, hydrating, and relaxation. If this warning were to be overridden the threshold before damage and discomfort would normally become severe would be far more likely to be breached through a course of activity obliviously pursued. The discomfort should remain to draw attention where appropriate so course corrections can be made and the matter resolved instead of potentially exacerbated.
I'm sure his response was less technically oriented and very kindly worded into something else. After all, responding negatively to one request is not nearly as powerful a psychological communication tool as placing positive emphasis on a proposed alternate. I would have like to hear what his alternate was - this is an area I could still use much improvement.
I have much I would like to say regarding the positive nature of pain in providing attention and focus to its origins. Bad habits arise to do this, as well as to provide outlet for negative pressures or because the derived pleasure out-weighs the negative consequences (which then potentially continue to build until expressed through other seemingly unrelated avenues). However, I can't seem to get the ideas straight in my mind in any pre-compositional organization. I'm taking this to mean that I haven't yet internalized it in a sufficient way to articulate it to others. I have it solidified on the abstract spatial side, but haven't broached into the logical hemisphere to complete the picture in a way to express it linguistically.
Something I'll have to keep working on, since this is one of the primary areas I would like my hypnotherapy client education material to focus on.
Outside the atmosphere sizzled at 100 degrees at the time, and had been for days on end with barely any breeze - the stifling air sat oppressively over everything. At least it was a dry heat.
The question related directly to this: "Hey Clark, could you hypnotize someone so they wouldn't feel the heat?"
The answer from a functional perspective is of course Yes - this would be a fairly simple suggestion and task that the sub-conscious would be particularly receptive too. The continuation to this though is that it's a suggestion which shouldn't be entertained regardless of the relief it would bring.
Pain, discomfort, and negative psychological pressure together serve a very important purpose in the protection and preservation of both mind and body. Protection is in fact the primary motivation of the subconscious, coupled with its uncanny knack for automation of simple activity and behavior.
In this case the discomfort resulting from heat acts as a warning flag to care for the body by reducing exposure, hydrating, and relaxation. If this warning were to be overridden the threshold before damage and discomfort would normally become severe would be far more likely to be breached through a course of activity obliviously pursued. The discomfort should remain to draw attention where appropriate so course corrections can be made and the matter resolved instead of potentially exacerbated.
I'm sure his response was less technically oriented and very kindly worded into something else. After all, responding negatively to one request is not nearly as powerful a psychological communication tool as placing positive emphasis on a proposed alternate. I would have like to hear what his alternate was - this is an area I could still use much improvement.
I have much I would like to say regarding the positive nature of pain in providing attention and focus to its origins. Bad habits arise to do this, as well as to provide outlet for negative pressures or because the derived pleasure out-weighs the negative consequences (which then potentially continue to build until expressed through other seemingly unrelated avenues). However, I can't seem to get the ideas straight in my mind in any pre-compositional organization. I'm taking this to mean that I haven't yet internalized it in a sufficient way to articulate it to others. I have it solidified on the abstract spatial side, but haven't broached into the logical hemisphere to complete the picture in a way to express it linguistically.
Something I'll have to keep working on, since this is one of the primary areas I would like my hypnotherapy client education material to focus on.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
Origins of Conceit
As a child, I was granted by my peers the cruelest title they had available: Different. There were of course many appendages to this in the form of the classic Nerd, Geek, and so on. I must also admit a great deal of accuracy in these observations: received my first pair of glasses (thick black plastic rims) for myopia in Kindergarten, had a much greater than average interest in the exactness of all things and accuracy of statements, and diminished physical capacity. Orthodontia starting in grade 2 represented no small contribution (before the onset of which I was also the proud owner of an extra and malformed toot - perfectly conical fang, dead center). I would also rather read than play, and carried sophisticated (for the age) discourse with adults rather than my immediate peers.
This does not in any way presume maturity since the emotional development was not apace with the presumed intellect, nor could it be - the amygdala, the portion of the limbic system of the brain responsible for the formation and execution of both complex and intense emotional and social manifestations, does not achieve significant development until adolescence - also the reason teens are so volatile, generally. My behavior then was in part a shadow or a mimicry of those whom I desired to emulate - given that I was incapable of forming the truly deep connections from the activity (which is not to say that children cannot, as they do with their parents, but without the time and context required the bonds are incapable of forming as a matter of daily course). Despite this I called the behavior distinctly mine and began to accept the nature of the differences.
The simplest path to accomplish this acceptance was to assume I was smarter than everyone else. Add to this the general counsel as applied by parents consoling their bully-saturated child (something to the effect of non-retaliation meaning "you're better than they are") and the environment easily skews to reinforce the artificial superiority.
Pride can be damaged, or forced to be abandoned or swallowed. Ego can be bruised. But conceit - no, conceit transcends these self-inflicted inflations to become a shielding neurosis. Epithets are easily deflected by assessing their slinger as inferior, knowing that the naive moron is surely missing the point of it all and must be pitied. Or, that their incapacity is so great, they must simply be ignored as there is no hope for them.
None of this heals a bruise, mind you, or retrieves instrument cases from ditches or scattered papers from a hillside. Or un-bends orthodontic headgear - that was a fun one.
Owning these differences also created a very real chasm in association with others. Pride and boasting in nerdliness is simply the adoption of a form of identity like any other, but as one of the social outliers it denies familiarity - reduced though it may be in children. This hurt a great deal and led to aberrant actions. So great was my desire to connect with others that I would go to great lengths to impress the few who I considered my audience. In the same month I won the school-wide "Student of the Month" I had also unscrupulously acquired much of the combined display of crystals and geological artifacts the class had assembled as a companion to recent lessons (this at age 8).
This did not improve over time, no affection was won, and the social distances increased as did the violence visited upon me. The intellect was recognized and fostered and blossomed, but the awkwardness was simply dismissed as a typical attendant of my disposition.
Eventually I did pull out of it all and put myself on a track with which I was satisfied and left no great unsatisfied drives which could would to inappropriate action. I worked to bridle my ego and removed conceit by striving to understand my fellow man in all circumstances, assuming equal footing as a baseline in my relationship with all - both elevating the repressed and diminishing the haughty to a common level of assumed humanity. This outlook started to take hold in mid High School years, and has been cultivated since through my studies of psychology and my own self exploration.
I treasure where I am now and feel well served by my attitudes and the precepts which guide me. But for many partially wasted years I insisted on both maintaining and suffering the chasm of my early youth in autoimposed (not that I could see it that way) imprisonment. While I do feel pangs of resentment and regret (the deep bitterness tempered by time and the aforementioned understanding), one must always ponder when looking back - would I be the person I am today if not for these things? Could I have achieved the wisdom I may hold now without the challenges and trials, failures and successes, unique to these experiences? Probably not - I'm not that smart. What will I think in successive decades of similar review of where I am now?
Sorry to wax semi-nostalgic here. These are musings for now - action is still in ponderance; especially as I now watch the growth of my own children.
This does not in any way presume maturity since the emotional development was not apace with the presumed intellect, nor could it be - the amygdala, the portion of the limbic system of the brain responsible for the formation and execution of both complex and intense emotional and social manifestations, does not achieve significant development until adolescence - also the reason teens are so volatile, generally. My behavior then was in part a shadow or a mimicry of those whom I desired to emulate - given that I was incapable of forming the truly deep connections from the activity (which is not to say that children cannot, as they do with their parents, but without the time and context required the bonds are incapable of forming as a matter of daily course). Despite this I called the behavior distinctly mine and began to accept the nature of the differences.
The simplest path to accomplish this acceptance was to assume I was smarter than everyone else. Add to this the general counsel as applied by parents consoling their bully-saturated child (something to the effect of non-retaliation meaning "you're better than they are") and the environment easily skews to reinforce the artificial superiority.
Pride can be damaged, or forced to be abandoned or swallowed. Ego can be bruised. But conceit - no, conceit transcends these self-inflicted inflations to become a shielding neurosis. Epithets are easily deflected by assessing their slinger as inferior, knowing that the naive moron is surely missing the point of it all and must be pitied. Or, that their incapacity is so great, they must simply be ignored as there is no hope for them.
None of this heals a bruise, mind you, or retrieves instrument cases from ditches or scattered papers from a hillside. Or un-bends orthodontic headgear - that was a fun one.
Owning these differences also created a very real chasm in association with others. Pride and boasting in nerdliness is simply the adoption of a form of identity like any other, but as one of the social outliers it denies familiarity - reduced though it may be in children. This hurt a great deal and led to aberrant actions. So great was my desire to connect with others that I would go to great lengths to impress the few who I considered my audience. In the same month I won the school-wide "Student of the Month" I had also unscrupulously acquired much of the combined display of crystals and geological artifacts the class had assembled as a companion to recent lessons (this at age 8).
This did not improve over time, no affection was won, and the social distances increased as did the violence visited upon me. The intellect was recognized and fostered and blossomed, but the awkwardness was simply dismissed as a typical attendant of my disposition.
Eventually I did pull out of it all and put myself on a track with which I was satisfied and left no great unsatisfied drives which could would to inappropriate action. I worked to bridle my ego and removed conceit by striving to understand my fellow man in all circumstances, assuming equal footing as a baseline in my relationship with all - both elevating the repressed and diminishing the haughty to a common level of assumed humanity. This outlook started to take hold in mid High School years, and has been cultivated since through my studies of psychology and my own self exploration.
I treasure where I am now and feel well served by my attitudes and the precepts which guide me. But for many partially wasted years I insisted on both maintaining and suffering the chasm of my early youth in autoimposed (not that I could see it that way) imprisonment. While I do feel pangs of resentment and regret (the deep bitterness tempered by time and the aforementioned understanding), one must always ponder when looking back - would I be the person I am today if not for these things? Could I have achieved the wisdom I may hold now without the challenges and trials, failures and successes, unique to these experiences? Probably not - I'm not that smart. What will I think in successive decades of similar review of where I am now?
Sorry to wax semi-nostalgic here. These are musings for now - action is still in ponderance; especially as I now watch the growth of my own children.
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