Tendencies

I have a tendency to bite my fingernails when I'm anxious.

I have a tendency to let my laundry pile up until I don't have any clean clothes left.

I have a tendency to want to learn ad infinitum before taking action.

I have a tendency to check my Facebook page too often.

I have a tendency to get really excited about starting something new and then quit shortly after I get going.

I have a lot of tendencies.  You probably do, too.

The trick, though, is to realize that they're just tendencies --things that are historically true about me and my behavior-- and not absolute definitions of who I am and what I'm destined to always do.  This is an important fact to realize for two reasons.

First, I need to understand that I have the freedom to break away from my tendencies and act differently.  At any given moment, I can do something new and unpredictable and the Tendency Police aren't going to show up at my door and drag me away.  I absolutely can do my laundry before it gets out of control or stop chewing my nails 'til they bleed because there's nothing set in stone that says I have to or that I always will.

Second, I need to understand that just because I have a tendency toward something doesn't necessarily make it a bad thing.  True, the time-lapse between having an idea and getting started on a project is longer for me than most people, but I'm typically far better prepared and get better results quicker than most people, too.  And, yes, there are countless examples of new hobbies I dumped money into and then let fall to the wayside, and I can't even tell you how many promises I've made that I later went back on, but I'd rather start and not finish something than never get off the bench at all.

So, with that in mind, I'm announcing a new 'blog I've started over on Tumblr.  Ultimately, the idea was to have a collaborative-something-or-other with The Illustrious BRT, but the first step seems to be us joining a community together and starting out (initially, at least) with our own respective pages.

I can't help but feel like I'm giving up on another fruitless effort in my life or solidifying some truth about myself; like I always give up or I never finish what I start.  The long-form answer has something to do with particle physics and the use of superlatives being an automatic indicator of a lie.  The simple answer is that I've learned a lot from this over the last year or so and all I'm really doing is picking up stakes and moving on to the next thing.  It's okay to do that.  People often do.

I love you all.  See you on Tumblr!

It's Not About Them

In a twelve-step process, there's a part where you have to make amends for things you've done wrong.  In some cases, it means offering an apology to someone you hurt, in others it means paying debts that you owe... amends can look very different depending on the nature of the offense in question.

One thing amends can never be, though, is book-ended with the question "How can I make it up to you?" primarily because it undercuts the whole process of recovery.  The idea is to take responsibility for one's own problems and behaviors and, by ending it with that question, the ball has been bounced back into the offended party's court.

Even beyond that, though, there's the bigger problem of what to do if the person being offered amends refuses to accept it or can't forgive the person trying to make them and won't answer the question.  It's called a twelve-step program because there are, quite literally, twelve individual steps to be made within it and "Making Amends" is only step nine.  If I have to be forgiven or make restitution to every single person on my list before I can go any further, then there's a possibility that I may never make it on to the remaining steps.

Of course, the simple truth is that making amends with someone isn't about the other person.  It never is.  Whether you're in a twelve step program or not; whether you're offering forgiveness or asking for it, making amends is about YOU letting go of the baggage in a relationship and, if not being able to move forward, then at least being able to move on.

I know it's not easy, however true it may be, but it's very straightforward.  I think this is why the Bible makes it a command to go and act on and not a blessing to sit around and pray about and wait for.  I know that in my own life I tend to complicate the issue by thinking that "making amends" is the same thing as "making peace" is the same thing as "making sure that everybody is happy and we all got what we wanted and nobody will ever have problems with anybody else again because we'll all be friends and everything is great."  It's not like that.  Admit you were wrong.  Say that you're sorry.  Ask them to forgive you.  And then, whether they do or they don't, be done with it.

The only alternative is to stay where you are and let the wounds fester.  True, maybe if you wait long enough, the relationship will die and there will be nothing left worth making amends for.  Maybe time will heal it and you'll end up with a nice, big scar where your heart used to be.

"Maybe if I drink enough of this poison, they'll start to die."

Art v. Science

The greatest enemy to creativity and productivity is neither mediocrity nor failure, but perfectionism.  In my own life, I've had my own struggles against perfectionism and will probably face a million more before it's over.  I try not to see this as discouraging, merely a statement of fact.

I think that most of my struggles in this area stem from my desire to make everything an exact science; to have a predetermined, guaranteed-to-succeed way of going about whatever it is that we happen to be discussing at the moment (relationships, money, careers, et. al.).

But that's not really how anything works.  Nothing is an exact science.  Most things worth doing in life are more like art: you start with a framework and build from there, knocking away the extraneous parts and reworking what needs it.  Value is created through a process of investment, not some inherent quality of the object itself.  I've seen artwork made from dixie cups that was more thought-provoking and better put together than some multi-million dollar buildings.

The desire for success being what it is, though, brings most of us to a place where we stop caring about the things that make a person creative or interesting and ask only how to make money.  While I don't happen to buy into the whole "pure art = destitute artist" idea, I definitely think there's something to be said for letting go of the belief that the metrics of success are dollars and cents.

This is where the Art v. Science idea kicks in.  If I change my view of success to be more (or, at least, different) than money, I'm giving up the tangible and measurable for something amorphous, conceptual, and less secure-feeling.  I have to have enough faith in my ideas to continue working at them in spite of not being certain of where I'll end up if I do (it's true: "they" might hate it and, by extension, you).  I have to have more dedication than discipline.  I need to do more than just know.

I can't say it's better to be an artist than a scientist, but I definitely know which one I prefer.  Do you?

Expect God's Greater Reward

Of the topics I've written on over the last few weeks, I was glad that this one came last because this is the main one of these four principles that I am absolutely worst at living out.

If we made an agreement, you and I, in which you promised to give me a briefcase full of $100 bills if I ate a burrito filled with cat hair and dog turds, here is the exact process by which I would determine whether or not I would do it:

1. Does the briefcase filled with $100 bills actually exist?
2. Can it be verified that the $100 bills are not counterfeit?
3. Would this bump me into a different tax bracket?
4. What would I be left with after the government took their cut?
5. What's the catch?
6. How do I know that the briefcase people will follow through with their end of the bargain?
7. Ultimately, is the potential for getting a briefcase full of money worth the possibility and/or likelihood that I'll end up eating a poop-burrito for nothing?

Two things immediately jump out.

One is that I tend to automatically assume a skeptical position, that is, I start and end with the expectation that I'm being set-up or played.  If I expect anything at all, it's to fail and/or be defeated.

Two is that nowhere in any of this does my relationship with the other party ever really come into play.  Sure, I ask the thing about follow-through, but that's just looking for a guarantee; that's different from engaging a relationship.

Trust is rooted in banking on the knowledge you have of another person or entity.  I trust my girlfriend not to sleep around on me because I know that she loves me and is committed to building a good relationship with me.  I trust my bank to hold my money in security and not steal from me because that's illegal and they wouldn't be allowed to exist anymore if they did that.  I trust my friend Bryan to take me climbing and not let me die because he's an expert climber with quality gear.   I trust a lot of people for a lot of things, really.

But when it comes to expectation, I back off.  I trust Bryan to not kill me if I go climbing with him, but I don't expect that he would have or make time to help me get in shape.  I trust my girlfriend to not cheat on me, but I don't expect her to react well if I feel like I should say something to her when she's being too negative or critical of herself or other people.

Sure, I cloak it underneath a sense of pragmatism or humility (whichever fits better at the time) and try to sound like I'm just being fair or realistic.  The truth, though, is that I don't want to be disappointed and hurt when I don't get what I wanted or when things don't work out like I'd hoped.

The interesting/challenging/stupid thing is that God isn't like that.  As he presents himself in the Bible, God bats a thousand in the arena of coming through for people.  True, he may be more concerned with what I need than what I want, but God is not in the business of letting people down or changing the terms at the last minute.

But what I consent to be theoretically true doesn't necessarily play itself out in the decisions I make.

So, who's fault is that?