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VIEWPOINT
Wishful
Thinking
Wishers and woulders be
small householders. ( Voltaire)
The other day I was accused
of being "smart." Now under ordinary circumstances this would have
caused my ego meter to raise above the safe zone. And why not? All my
life I have wanted to be seen as "smart." My father, although
uneducated, was seen as "smart." My younger brother was quite well
educated and seen as "smart." But for me? I have always seen myself as
"dumb" and "slow," having almost no memory or ability to concentrate.
So being called "smart" by someone who values intelligence greatly
should well have boosted my snob level significantly.
But it didn't.
When I rode the bicycle around the country (I've written of these
elsewhere) I often heard: "I wish I could just take off and ride
wherever I want like you do."
When I was an artist I
heard: "I wish I could draw and paint like you do."
I have had people say: "I
wish I knew computers like you do."
And lately I have heard: "I
wish I could write like you do."
I can do anything. I've said this before. It's not an ego trip I'm on
that causes me to say this; it's merely a fact. For the first 30 years
of my life I thought (and was told) that I couldn't do anything right.
And I firmly believed that what I was told was correct. And so I never
tried to do anything for fear of the inevitable failure.
Then I discovered fencing.
In fencing I didn't excel, but I did quite well with my limited
experience.
And then the bicycle, where
again I started from nothing, to achieving a fair record of
accomplishments. Again, not the most or the best, but far more than the
average.
I discovered that whatever I set my mind to, I could do very well, and
in some cases, if compared to the norm rather than the superior, I
could excel. This is a far cry from the boy who thought he could do
nothing.
But not everything could I do. I couldn't play a musical instrument.
Even in my 60's music was a great barrier, and at the same time a great
attraction to me.
At 65 I set out to conquer
music. I've spoken of this elsewhere, I will only say I now play the
banjo, the guitar, the harmonica, the flute, the piano, as well as a
few others. In other words, music is another area I can "do." None of
these can I do well, mind you, but I can play to
my own satisfaction.
"I sure wish I could play the guitar like you do," I say to those who
play so well. And why do I wish I could play like
they do? Because I can't.
Above I said I can do anything. Yet here I say I can't play like others
who are proficient at their craft can play. Yet those I admire may very
likely feel very deficient in their ability when they compare
themselves to others they themselves admire and seek to emulate.
Now why is it that this
youngster (as young as five years old) can play so well, and I, much
older and with so much knowledge and abilities, can't? Don't our
abilities increase as we grow older? Don't we become wiser as we mature
physically? Isn't that the rule of nature? And therefore, if I wait
long enough, I will be able to do all things?
Sometimes we think
like that, and books are sold by the millions telling
us we can think our way to success. But thinking
such things can at best only bring us frustration and cause us a
headache.
Practice is what causes that five year old to play better than the 50
year old. Lots of practice.
"I sure wish I could play like you do." If I stop wishing, and begin
playing, I could learn to play like he or she
does.
And so could you.
For the last 18 years I have pretty well dedicated my energies to
writing, and little else. Music I only dabble at now and then, and so
my music sounds like all I am doing is dabbling.
I enjoy what little I do, and that is all that matters to me. If I
spent as much time at music as I do at writing, I could be great. I
know this from past experiences. But music is not the
interest in my life, only a very small part of an
interest.
Writing on the other hand is
what I am all about. I spend almost all my time writing, researching,
and working on my websites and my blogs. This is who I am. I ride the
bike, but I am not a bike rider any longer. I play musical instruments,
but I am not a musician. I paint a little now and then, but I am no
longer an artist. This is true of teaching, car restoring, Indian
culture and crafts, fencing and other areas I have concentrated on in
the past. They are still a part of me to one degree or another, but
none are "who I am."
I am a writer.
"I wish I could write like
you do."
I am slow. I think slow. My
memory is so poor I can't tell you what I just finished writing, or
very often (as I reread what I have written), who
wrote the piece because I have very little knowledge in the area that
was written about.
As I review what I have
written I am often amazed at the skill and the apparent understanding
of the subject under consideration. This sounds like ego, but is in
fact far from it. When I write all my energy goes into my writing. I
type slow and poorly, making so many mistakes that quite often as I
edit a piece I am unable to discern what I was trying to say when I
wrote it, and that might have been but minutes before. And my spelling
is so bad, that without Spell Checker my writing would be unreadable.
A huge portion of my time is
spent in a dictionary, a thesaurus, and on the web researching material
or searching for just the right word or phrasing to use. I am lousy in
English, and my grammar is exceptionally poor. Someone well acquainted
with these areas already knows this to be true. Others who are not so
well versed in grammar may well think I have a good grasp on these
areas. I assure you, I'm merely "faking" it. Or, to put it more
accurately, I am doing the very best I can, but I realize that my
limitations prevent my finished work from being all it should be. It may
be better than most people can do, but only because most people do not
spend the time and effort it takes to write articles such as these.
They just wish they could.
Over the years I have not been able to improve my ability to
concentrate, or to remember, or to organize my studies as they should
be. But there is one area I have been able to
grow, and that is in my honesty. It's not so much that I can be honest
with you, that is a subjective matter. But where
it is most important, that is to be honest with myself, this I have
learned.
Above I said that I have
great limitations when it comes to writing. In the physical
area I am fairly normal. Far from superior, but normal. Because of this
I was able to ride the bicycle long distances; slow, but fairly far.
But like anyone else, when I do not ride, my body gets used to not
riding, and in a week or two I find myself wondering if I will make it
back home because my muscles have atrophied to such a degree. Should
someone who is athletically inclined at all try to ride along side of
me, even when I was at my best, they would leave me in their dust. I
was not superior at what I was doing. But I was the one doing
it, and that is what made the difference between me and almost everyone
else.
This is true of my writing
as well. I have great limitations, as I have said before. If someone
without those limitations were to cease wishing,
and start doing, they would find what I have been
saying is true, that I am sorely lacking in ability.
Because of this recognition
of my lack, and the awareness that I have to struggle to achieve
whatever I attempt, it keeps me from feeling egotistic when my work is
praised. I know that anyone else could do the same, and even better,
and certainly much faster and more efficiently if
they set their mind to it. The difference is, I am
doing it, instead of just a wishing.
I began this piece by stating that my ego was not effected by the
accusation that I was: "Smart." In fact, rather than feeling proud, I
was a bit concerned. Elsewhere I have spoken about the many thousands
of "clicks" on my websites each month. My thought was (at the time of
being called smart): Is it because people see me as "smart" that they
are checking out my website? If this is the case,
I see a problem. My objective is not to impress people with my
intelligence, or my writing ability, or even my powers of observation.
In fact if everyone thought my writing stinks, and that I must be an
idiot to think as I do, and to see the world as I do, that would suit
me just fine. I neither need nor desire agreement or respect. Either of
these will defeat my purpose. I want people to think!
Agreement or acknowledgment of my abilities goes contrary to thinking.
If either of these are looked upon, then people will likely either
decide that what I have written is beneath them, or worse, they will
choose to follow my thinking and agree with me accordingly. Agreement
without serious consideration is the same as idiocy. And this is the
very thing I am trying with all my knowhow to prevent: blind idiocy.
"Familiarity breeds
contempt." You have very likely heard this expression before.
My father was looked up to
and respected by all. All, that is, except those of us who lived with
him.
There is something about the
unknown that attracts us mortals. When we see something that appeals to
us we fill in the unknown with what we would like
to be true. The more we know of a person, the less mystery remains,
therefore the less wishful thinking can be utilized. Even Jesus
experienced this phenomena when He returned to His home town. In spite
of all the proofs he exhibited, the home folks rejected Him because
they knew Him and His family. If this could happen to the Son of God,
how much more so to someone at the other end of the spectrum such as
myself?
People who know me, my
friends and my family and all those I care most for, ignore my website
and my writings. They know me. I present no mystery to them. Regardless
of how much I care, or how much value these people place on my opinion,
they ignore it because it comes from someone they can not imagine as
being more than what he is. I do not mean to say
they look down on me, in fact, in some cases, far
from it. I may say exactly what they want, and need, to hear. But
unless it is said by someone they know little about, they won't give
the words their due consideration.
That is one reason I remain
anonymous. Another is for the reason I gave earlier, and that is to
make sure I do not feed my ego rather than my purpose.
Tumbleweed
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