Are You Trying to Tell Me Something, Life?

It is very tempting to make connections out of chaos, which can be delirium-inducing for a coincidence "believer" like me. And when the coincidences cascade like a waterfall with a lot of water--hmm--it can make a doubting Thomas of one's own doubting Thomas-ness...hmm. In the past week or so, there have been three articles in particular that I read online in which (most of) my life's problems are openly discussed, and such concentration of topic is striking.

The first of them, "How Not to Talk to Your Kids," is a more thorough and, well, correct example of those "these damn kids with their bajillion trophies and self-esteem" articles that wonks like to litter the internet with. In this concise piece, Po Bronson examines ever-growing research that debunks the idea that (positive) self-esteem is the most important thing to have, at least to the extent that it is built on praise of attributes and traits. I break it down thusly: Praise is a powerful positive reinforcement, moving us to do what we can to get some mo' o' dat sweet sweet drug. Next, you have two different sides: being and doing: this is a vital binary. If we are praised for being something, we will want to ensure we continue being that, whereas, if we are praised for doing something, we will want to continue doing that. Perhaps because the simple grammars of our languages lump being and doing into one category, verbs, we tend to think of them in nearly identical ways. Yet, one is static and the other is not, and in a dynamic world, it is action that carries the day. The research is finding that when praised for being, say, smart, people will do what they can to continue being perceived as smart; this causes people to lean towards easier tasks, avoiding anything they fear will make them look dumb; they will be harshly critical of others, striking down others to make themselves seem better; and so. When one's effort is noticed, however, one will be moved to put more effort in, risking failure and possible embarrassment along the way. And in a world that expects people to get off their rumps and do stuff to be considered worthwhile, that is the important quality: persevering effort. Very few people get paid to just be. Praising efforts, though, and being specific about it is hard to develop when the habit is to praise attributes. When I read this article, I was almost quivering with recognition: I fear failure incredibly so, I can be overly-critical, being perceived as stupid frequently paralyzes me with anxiety--and so on. Combine this with my manic depression, and I'm a hot mess. Thankfully, I have been moving in the right direction over the years, but for those of us who were praised for being something, putting effort into making an effort is a hard task indeed.

I remember in fifth grade failing a major project, which was the first time I had done so. Considering the shame I felt when I told my mom about, one would think I had murdered someone. (My mom, for her part, more or less shrugged it off, saying I would do better next time or some such motherism.) This is the plight of the perfectionist. "14 Signs Your Perfectionism Has Gotten Out of Control" shares several ideas with the previous article (surprise, surprise, smart-appraised people tend to be perfectionists), and to a number I identify with each of the points listed here, though some are mostly latent anymore. Especially the last one, "You have a guilty soul," which is well-nigh Biblical. My own path to dealing with it is realizing that perfectionism is an end-game; to be literal, in grammar the perfect tense is the finished past, it is an action (or state of being) done and gone; and so I will only reach perfection when I am done and gone: how would I enjoy it then? Instead, to tie back with the previous article, it is vital to enjoy the process, to seek satisfaction in effort and moving.

Loneliness can be a powerful force of unbeing; as someone frequently prone to the pangs of it, one path I have taken to be rid of it is to be a people-pleaser, hoping then people will like me. Instead, this led to a build-up of resentment that finally broke...this past summer. If I were a less rational person, Lord knows what I might have done or become, but what carried me through was my reason, like a lighthouse to the tide-tossed ship of my self. To be exact, my knowledge that there is (almost) always a way forward helped me move forward. Now I am trying to refind who I am, Me, Christian Hendricks, one of the delicates, and then accepting that not everyone will like it. So I think I should perhaps take up this mantra: "I am not for everyone and that is okay." In her article, life coach Kira Sabin realizes "the sooner we can let go of people pleasing people who will never be pleased, we can embrace all of our shit and start surrounding ourselves with amazing people who like us, for us. That is where great love shows up. That is what we are doing here." I remember a few years ago, when things were going "right," someone shared a quote with me (they thought it might come from Goethe), that when we decide on a course of action, life has a way of falling into place. Perhaps the clustered occurrence of these three articles (and who knows what further ones are in store) will make me believe that life cares enough to do that, but I think I'll remain too focused on my life to worry.