Pet peeve: people who say "I'm not a linear/logical person, I'm more the creative type."
The implication is that you have to choose: the more logical you are, the less creative. To put it more bluntly, it says "I'm not good at thinking clearly, and I don't want to put in the hard work to improve in this area, so I'm going to pretend my fuzziness is a strength instead of a weakness."
Developing your creativity does not actually make you worse at linear reasoning. I suspect, though I'm not sure, that it works the other way. What I am sure of is that great thinkers excel in both areas, and use them together. Whether you want to invent the light bulb or compose a symphony, you're going to have to synthesize many different kinds of thinking, and the ones that are weakest are the ones that you need to develop.
Let's say you feel passionate about some issuea political issue, for instance. If someone says "I feel very passionate about the other side," you may not like him, but you will probably take him at his word. On the other hand, if someone says "I don't really care about this issue at all," you will have a hard time imagining that it could be true.
As an example, consider the raging debates about the Confederate flag.
Person A says, "The Confederate flag is a symbol of the proud heritage of the South! Be proud you're a rebel, 'cause the South's gonna do it again!" If you are against the Confederate flag, he will firmly believe that you want to see Dixie ground under the heels of the Yankee oppressors.
Person B says, "The Confederate flag is a symbol of plantations and slavery! It's a disgrace to the proud memory of Martin Luther King!" If you are for the Confederate flag, he will suspect that you want to bring back Jim Crow, or at least nudge a few black people to the back of the bus.
To Person A, it is obvious that the flag debate is really about North vs South; to Person B, it is equally clear that this is really about black vs white. You see what I mean? Each one believes that you can be on the other side from him, but neither one believes that you could really care about a whole different issue.
So you ask someone "Do you set aside any time in your life for religious and/or spiritual practices?" and the person replies, "Spiritual practices don't just happen for an hour on Sunday morning or half an hour a day: my whole life is my spiritual practice."
A lot of people give you that answer, and it took me a while to realize that those people fall into two distinct categories: they mean completely different things.
The first group means, "I do whatever I feel like doing anyway, but I declare it to be spiritual." Right now I'm spiritually enjoying this ice cream, and when I'm done, I think I'll spiritually watch whatever's on TV.
The other (much smaller) group means, "I determine the most valuable spiritual thing I could be doing, and I organize my whole life around that." I have known people who moved to a different state, quit a job, ended a relationship, and made almost any other sacrifice you can think of, because they believed their spiritual work demanded it.
The two groups have virtually nothing in common, but it gets confusing since they use the exact same language to describe their lives.
When I have a sore throat at bedtime, I put a lozenge in my mouth before going to sleep. The lozenge gradually dissolves overnight, keeping my throat at least numb enough to allow me to sleep. It's simple and comforting.
But we don't allow our kids to do the same thing, for fear that they might swallow the lozenge and choke.
Maybe my behaviorone set of rules for me, a different set for my kidsis perfectly reasonable. Maybe kids are more likely to choke on a lozenge than adults, because their throats are smaller or their reflexes less developed. But I've never heard any evidence for any of that, and anyway, this example forms part of a general pattern: we choose comfort over safety for ourselves, but insist (over their objections) that our children choose safety over comfort.
We tell ourselves that we value the safety of children more than the safety of adults, but I'm afraid there is more than a little of the opposite: we value adult comfort more highly than children's. (Don't believe me? Walk into any school and look at the teacher's chair, and then look at the students' chairs.) I can't think of any good reason for this.
The idea of "gay pride" strikes me as very dangerous.
Much of the gay argument is based on the claim that being gay is not a choice. People don't "decide to become gay": they "come out of the closet" and honestly admit that they were born to be gay. If that's true, then being gay is nothing to be proud of, any more than being left-handed or having a mole on your cheek. In fact, as soon as you suggest that you can be proud of being gay, it automatically suggests the opposite: that you can be ashamed of being gay.
Now, I'm going to be accused of hating gay people and all kinds of horrible things, so let me generalize from there. Here are a few other things I do not think you should be proud of:
Be proud of your accomplishments. If you are serving America, for instance in the military or the Peace Corps, be proud of that. If you are working to prevent gay or black people from being lynched, be proud of that. If you faithfully keep all the Jewish laws when those around you assimilate, be proud of that. (For the record, I do none of the above.)
But don't build your identity, and your pride, around something as pedestrian as homosexuality.
Why do so many people play video games, and so few people learn an instrument?
If you think about it, the process is very similar. You start off with no skill, you gradually build skill, you get the thrill of accomplishment, you show off for your neighbors who are into the same thing you are. But the pay-off for learning an instrument is much higher, in the long run. People play the same instrument for 50 years, deriving enjoyment from it the whole time; no one plays a video game for that long. So why play Guitar Hero instead of playing guitar?
I think the answer is obvious, once you ask the question: video games are easy to learn. If you've never played Guitar Hero, you can become competent in a few hours. Within a few months, you'll be playing at "Expert" level. You always have the wonderful feeling of being better, right now, than you were last week. With a musical instrument, progress is much more slow and uneven. Play guitar for a few hours and your "G" chord still buzzes and your fingers hurt. Practice for half an hour every day, and after a year you're still a beginner. There are long, frustrating periods when it seems that no matter how hard you work, you are not improving at all.
It's all about delayed gratification. Most of us don't have the patience for an instrument, but we do for a video game.
And here's my point: as video games are to musical instruments, so musical instruments are to spiritual work. You can meditate for half an hour every day for years, go to spiritual retreats, read spiritual books, seek out teachers and heed their advice, and feel like you're getting absolutely nowhere. And of course, lingering in the back of your mind is always the doubt that there is anywhere to get at all. (In this case, I really am talking about me.)
Little wonder, then, that so few people ever get serious about spiritual work!
COMMENTS
I would add that failing at a video game is also less embarrassing than failing at a musical instrument (where the teacher is eyeing your progress or lack thereof)...how nice it is to be able to push a button and get another try. Life is much like that too usually but doesn't seem so and the replay sure doesn't happen instantly (darn). For example, if I tank the GRE in a few days and don't get into grad school, I can retake the test and reapply for 2011. Sure won't be as easy as replaying a level on Mario but still possible!
I think the thing about "gay pride" or pride about being part of any kind of minority group, is that many people have been oppressed or humiliated just because of their race, handicap or sexualityeither overtly or subtly. They have to work harder to stand up for themselves and feel a sense of pride about who they are.
I definitely understand that that's the theory, but I think it's counter-productive. I think it would make a lot more sense to crusade for "gay irrelevance" in the long run. If people were beaten or denied jobs for being left-handed, I don't think "lefty pride" would be the right response.
Wow, so much to say, but since this is your forum and not mine, I'll try to keep it short. Is it possible that people never get serious about their spiritual work because it is just too uncomfortable to admit the truth? Honestly, who wants to say okay the truth is I really know nothing and have no control over my own life? Who wants to take a stand and be different from everyone else? After all even minorities who take pride in their persecution have the commonality and bond that results from their struggles as being "different." Truth is that when a person truly takes up their spiritual work they often face times of great loneliness. They have to look at themselves in a very critical way and more often than not change almost every aspect of their being. Following the path of our spiritual work is ussually long and difficult, and requires great perserverance. (In fact it is much like learning to play the guitar.) Our society does not value the rewards that perserverance can create in a person's life. So really I think maybe, it is just that people in general (myself included) are lazy and too insecure to take a stand different than what everybody else is doing. Maybe it's not that we need to be more concerned with the comfort of our children, but less concerned with the comfort of ourselves.
Vanessa, I don't even have much to say in reply except that starting discussions is one of my goals, so I'm delighted to hear everything you have to saydon't feel like you have to "keep it short." I especially like hearing what you have to say, because it is so totally right on target. I'm just amazed at your insights!
As always, I thoroughly enjoy your insights.
I think your proposal that gay irrelevance should be the ultimate goal is absolutely correct. I also think, however, that gay pride is a worthwhileand possibly necessarystep on the path to that desirable irrelevance. When members of a group are frequently discriminated against and verbally abused, and sometimes physically abused, it clearly can be seriously harmful to them. A shared pride in one's Jewishness, homosexuality, etc., provides a good basis for building a community, and belonging to a community can serve as an antidote to the sense of isolation, victimization, and sometimes suicidal depression that results from being a chronic target of discrimination and abuse.
I definitely understand that that's the theory, but I think it's counter-productive. I think it would make a lot more sense to crusade for "gay irrelevance" in the long run. If people were beaten or denied jobs for being left-handed, I don't think "lefty pride" would be the right response.
On a hilarious note, there is such a thing as "lefty pride," complete with t-shirts that say things like "the only people in their right minds are lefties" and books full of famous and smart lefties and such. ;)
I think your proposal that gay irrelevance should be the ultimate goal is absolutely correct. I also think, however, that gay pride is a worthwhileand possibly necessarystep on the path to that desirable irrelevance. When members of a group are frequently discriminated against and verbally abused, and sometimes physically abused, it clearly can be seriously harmful to them. A shared pride in one's Jewishness, homosexuality, etc., provides a good basis for building a community, and belonging to a community can serve as an antidote to the sense of isolation, victimization, and sometimes suicidal depression that results from being a chronic target of discrimination and abuse.
Instead of calling things "reactionary," my mom compares them to pendulum swings. There was much anti-gay sentiment, discrimination, etc. so the reaction is arguably too far in the other direction to compensate but eventually it all will end up at irrelevance. It just takes a while. :)
I always enjoy reading these.
The one that inspired me to comment here was safety vs. comfort. I don't disagree with your basic conclusion, but I do think you may have overstated it. First, I think that most things that we protect children from are genuinely more dangerous for them than for us. In the case of the lozenge, I suspect that if I woke up choking I would wake Rosemary up, try to do the Heimlich maneuver, struggle to keep calm, etc. I suspect my kids would flail in wild panic.
More importantly, I think we very much do value the safety of children more than adults. In a sinking ship women and children were supposed to go first. Putting aside the large and interesting issue of the relative value we place on men and women's safety, I think it's clear we value children's more than either. And of course that becomes far more extreme when you are talking about your own children. When I imagine myself choking I think about what I would do, including that I might die. If I imagine Rosemary choking to death it's a terrible, sad thought. If I imagine my children even being at risk of choking to death the thought is so unbearable I have to try to finish the scenario with a different ending. I could feel my stomach clenching just writing the first paragraph of this email.
So to me it seems clear that the main reason we impose that different choice on our children than on us is the arguably selfish motivation that danger for them is a worse price to pay for us than danger for ourselves. But do we also value their comfort less than ours? Yes and no. Suppose you were out on a very cold day. I don't mean a so-cold-you-might-get-hypothermia kind of day. I mean that you're walking home and you're shivering and don't have a warm enough jacket and you'd really like to be inside already and luckily you have a blanket with you. Would you drape that blanket over yourself or give it to Jack, who is walking with you and also shivering? I think almost every adult would give it to the kid, even if it weren't their own kid.
So what's different about the classroom chairs? Several things. For one thing, there is one adult and there are lots of kids. Comfortable chairs are expensive. Also, I think there's a big difference between a kid sitting in a hard chair and an adult doing the same. I knew a guy once who was visiting us with his teenage daughter. The way the sleeping arrangements worked out we had one regular bed and one air mattress on the floor for them. The girl tried to take the bed and have her father sleep on the air mattress. I may not have the exact wording right, but he said "You don't make your 43 year old father sleep on the floor and it's embarrassing to have to tell you that." I suspect that James could sit on a hard chair for hours and be fine afterwards because his body is essentially made of rubber. If I tried it I'd regret it for a week.
Note from Kenny: The little joke from Gary there is that I was the 43-year-old father in the story. Mary and I wound up sharing the bed.
Where I do think your point is valid, though, is when you generalize your scenario beyond age. When students meet with me in my office I sit in a more comfortable chair than they do. That's because my office is furnished with one very comfortable chair and a few less comfortable ones. Some of my students are adult students and they still sit in the less comfortable chairs. If I go to the president's office she sits in a more comfortable chair than me. In certain situations in our culture there's a presumption that the person in authority gets perks like comfortable chairs. Since adults are essentially always in the position of authority over kids, that means kids get less comfort. I'm not saying this is a good thing, but I do think the warm blanket example illustrates that it's not simply that we value adult comfort more than kid comfort.
I have to say, the blanket is an excellent counter-example.
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