| Ma otsin nüüd ametlikult tööd.
Ma olen sellele kaua mõelnud, kaheldes ja mõeldes, kas see on hea mõte, ja nüüdseks olen ma jõudnud paratamatule arusaamisele, et ma pean seda tegema. Ma olen flirtinud selle mõttega ka eelnevatel aastatel, kuid ma ei ole kunagi jõudnud kaugemale paarist tööintervjuust enne kui mu praegune tööandja on suutnud mind ümber veenda – nende juurde jääma. Seekord on see erinev, ei ole midagi, mida nad saaksid pakkuda, et mu meelt muuta. Ma olen nendega rääkinud ja nad teavad seda. Ma olen jõudnud järeldusele, et mul on nüüdseks piisavalt kogemust spetsiaaltarkvara arenduse mudelis ning mul on vaja teha midagi muud, et mind motiveerituna hoida. Ärge mõistke mind valesti, ma ei arva oma praegusest tööandjast midagi halba, tegelikult vastupidi. Uptime on väga hea tööandja, kelle heaks töötada. Ma olen töötanud nende heaks juba 9 aastat (novembris 2011 saaks 10). See on suur number. Ma ei oleks siia jäänud, kui see oleks olnud halb firma. Nende aastate jooksul olen ma teinud siin palju erinevaid töid ja ma olen ise palju muutunud. Ma alustasin programmeerijana, kes püüdis vaid peitu pugeda ja käis ainult seinaääri mööda, kuid läbi pideva enesearenduse, mind ümbritsevate inimeste toetuse ja paindliku süsteemi olen ma muutunud usaldusväärseks analüütikuks, kes arutab klientidega keerulisi teemasid ja edastab selle arusaadavalt ka programmeerijatele. Ma olen näinud inimesi tulemas ja minemas; kliendibaasi muutumas; erinevate tehnoloogiate ja organisatsiooni struktuuride läbiproovimist firma poolt ja ma olen kindel, et see on üks parimaid spetsiaaltarkvara arenduse firmasid Eestis. Samuti armastan ma paljut oma praeguses töös. Mulle meeldib mõista, kuidas asjad töötavad, miks midagi tehakse nii nagu tehakse ja kas annaks teha kuidagi paremini. Mulle meeldib tutvuda keeruliste teemadega, neid oma mõttes igalt küljelt vaadata, need organiseerida ja pakkuda töötavaid lahendusi, et elule kaasa aidata. Ma armastan nende üleskirjutamist ja diagrammide joonistamist keerukamate kohtade selgitamiseks. Mulle meeldib omada üldpilti, kuid samas mõista ka kõiki detaile. Mulle meeldib paindlikult otsida alternatiivseid lahendusi kui mõni pakutud lahendus mingil minule eelnevalt teadmata põhjusel kliendile siiski ei sobi. Pikka juttu tegemata, olen kokku leppinud, et lahkun Uptime’ist 1. septembril 2011, tahan lõpliku otsuse teha enne suve algust. Niisiis kutsun üles kõiki, kellel on mulle kas hea soovitus, mis võiks mu uus töö olla, või kellel on endal vajadus minu oskuste ja omadustega inimese järele, kontakteeruda minuga. Minu CV leiad siit või CV Online’ist. |
I am now officially searching for work.
I have been thinking about it for a long time now, hestitating and thinking whether it is a good idea, and now I have reached the inescapable realization that I have to do it. I have flirted with that thought in previous years as well, but I have never got much farther than a few interviews before my current employer has been able to convince me to reconsider – to stay with them. This time it is different, there is nothing they could offer that would make me change my mind. I have talked to them and they know it. I have come to understand that I have had enough experience in special software development model and I need to do something else to keep me motivated. Don’t get me wrong, I think nothing bad of my current employer, actually the opposite. Uptime is a very good company to work for. I have been working for them for 9 years now (it would be 10 in November 2011). That is a big number. I wouldn’t have if it had been a bad company. In these years I have done a lot of different things there, I have changed a lot and the company has also changed. I started out as a programmer that did her best to hide out of sight, walking only at the sides of the walls, but through constant self-improvement, support from people around me and flexible system I have changed into a reliable analyst that can discuss complex subjects with customers and relay that to programmers in understandable way. I have watched people come and go; customer base changing; trying out different technologies and inside structures by the company and I am sure this is one of the best companies in special software development that there are in Estonia. And I also love much about my current job. I love to understand how things work, why something is done the way it is and if there is a better way. I love to be introduced to complex subjects, look at them from every side in my head, organize them and offer workable solutions to help things along. I love writing them up, and drawing diagrams to illustrate the more complex points. I love to have general picture and still understand all the details. I love to find alternate solutions flexibly when some solution I have offered is not possible for some reason that was still unknown for me previously. Long story short, I have agreed to leave Uptime at September 1st, 2011, I want to be able to make the final decision before the start of summer. So I invite anybody who has a good suggestion as to what would be a good job for me, or has a need for a person of my qualifications and attributes, to contact me. |
Otsin tööd | I am searching for work
Posted on 7.03.2011 and filed under Uncategorized.
Keep the reins strong and steady in your own hands
Posted on 31.12.2010 and filed under fate.
(Warning! The argumentation does not apply in case of religious person.)
It always frustrates me if somebody gives away their initiative in life, but it actually puzzles me when they do it because they think that everything is predetermined anyway. I think that the fact is true that everything is predetermined – and this is precisely the reason we have to do our best to create a better future. I guess that sentence puzzles people just as much as giving up initiative because of a belief in an ascertained fate puzzles me, so I’ll explain a bit on this.
I have a programmer’s understanding of fate – the future is defined by initial data and all the rules (the program or the natural laws) that are applied to it by that time. As a scientific-minded person I believe that there is no true random – behind chaos, behind random events there are rules we haven’t discovered yet or data we didn’t consider; even the “acceptable measuring error” is actually implication that the experiment cannot be entirely separated from the environment (other data and other natural laws are being applied outside the experiment and they are influencing it). So if you knew all the initial data and all the rules; and you could apply them faster than they happen naturally, you could predict what the result will be at any moment.
Of course this can only be theoretical because the amount of data and the rules is enormous, unimaginable even. You’d have to include data of each electron and atom existing anywhere, all the forces influencing them and all the laws of all the sciences and more (I believe we have only scratched the surface of all there is to know about the rules by which the universe/multiverse works). No person has brain big enough to hold all that data inside; no computer system comes even close to the computing power needed. There is only one thing that can know it all and apply all the laws – and that is the nature(/universe/multiverse/…) itself. And nature applies the rules just in time for them to happen, it doesn’t care for knowing ahead of time what will happen, everything happens as it happens and whenever it is supposed to happen.
And as fate is preset in grand scale, it is also set to the tiniest of atoms and to the decisions we make in life. Yes, also the decision to give up initiative, also called “free will”. The best explanation I have seen of how much free will there is in this predetermined world (as understood by me), is written by Schoppenhauer (On The Freedom Of Will – though I found it in Wikipedia):
You can do what you will, but in any given moment of your life you can will only one definite thing and absolutely nothing other than that one thing.
So, in a way you have free will, but then again this free will is predetermined. If you give up doing anything because you are convinced that everything is predetermined anyway, this is also predetermined; and it is also predetermined that due to the neglect of any action on your part your life will now go the way others make it go. It is predetermined, whether I can convince anyone to readjust the reins, grip them with a steady hand, or not (thus giving up their fate into the hands of others).
I try, as I do my best for my life and my future, because it is a causal fate that I believe in. I am actively causing the future (to be better, I hope), but it is a collaboration with everyone out there – both active and inactive; and also with all the forces of nature. It is already predetermined if I will succeed or not, but nobody knows what that will be, nobody can know this. So it is better to work actively towards a possible better future than give in to the complacency and neglect that will surely bring about ruin and decay. That way the causal nature of predetermination is also the reason for actively pursuing a fate instead of letting it happen and everybody should do their best to create a future as they consider to be best.
A new and fresh start, here again
Posted on 2.10.2010 and filed under Uncategorized.
liriel.org, I have come back to you. It has been some time, it has been different sites – but it doesn’t matter now. Now I am back here with you.
Remember all the good times we were having the first time around? Oh, it was so long ago! Ten years, am I not right? I was really enjoying having my site at your address previously. I was constantly updating, I was constantly coming back and reading the comments – oh the comments! – and replying to them…
But these are not those simple times any more. I have matured – at least a little – since those times. I have understood that what I really wanted all along was a blog plus some static pages. Then I didn’t even know what the word “blog” might mean. I had a vague idea, that I want a site, where I could publish my thoughts and have conversation with anyone who would be interested enough to answer. In the previous address, I understood, that it is a blog I want.
I started the blog with immature content and hazy starts at thoughts, but as the time went past I started writing more and more of the types of articles that might interest more people than my immediate relatives and friends. At least I hope so. I felt some value in them at least, I hope others did as well – and the site was transformed, a singularity reached, when the schizophrenic situation – blog and a neglected static site under the same domain – couldn’t be continued any more.
Oh, I procrastinated over the move, I did. I did everything but this. I even managed to organize some stuff around my house, which is probably one of the lowest-priority things in my life. Only Kersti, my dear friend and an excellent people photographer, made me do a bit of this and that at times for my site. How was she able to? Well, as she needed me to set up a home page for her, urgently, more urgently ever than my own homepage needed to be moved, urgently, because she is a starting photographer and needs all the wind in her wings that can be blown to get her up in the air, and I really want her to do well. While doing this for her I used my negligible skills as webmaster again after a while – and it wasn’t that difficult. So when at times I couldn’t do anything for her – waiting for an answer about how she wanted it perhaps or just having done all she wanted me to do at that time – then when I still had time left over, I would work on these posts – one to say good-bye to my long companion liriel.pri.ee (this post will stay with it while the site fades into /dev/null/, never to be posted in the new space) and another to welcome back my long-lost and yet newly found address under a new and better slogan.
Yes, the slogan has changed and this is important. This is one thing I was choosing so carefully. And then, a moment came, when I knew with utmost clarity what it must be. A drop in the time-sea. It’s from a poem I once wrote – see it in full in Author page. It tells how we are all a part of a whole, how we are all important and how each of us determines what the whole actually is. It is not a very beautiful poem, I admit, but I like the premise a lot. So much that I remember the poem by heart, only one of my poems. Because this is what I aspire to be – a drop in the time-sea, that changes the whole, even if it is just a little change in the corner.
I aspire to write better posts now. Inspiring, changing, important. I have imported the previous blog here in its full and I will take offline the posts I don’t think should be public under this slogan. And I will write and write and … oh how I will write!
Khm. Riiight.
Which reminds me, I have been postponing an update about the 300 words a day challenge. I couldn’t do it for more than some weeks. It’s not me. I always felt the pieces I wrote were too short and immature for publishing, some just a pretense. I did publish to posterous 2 posts about honesty (first, second), but even though they might be kind of complete in themselves, they really are parts of a whole that is not yet complete in my head as well. This challenge made me realize more about my writing style.
In some book Vonnegut wrote about two kinds of writing styles he knew – one was that whatever is on paper is there and will not be removed – you plan everything in your head and then you write the sentence and then you’ll write another and that’s it. He said it was how he wrote. I think this is essential to his unique style of books. The other was to keep constantly rewriting the piece until it is ready (or the deadline comes). I think I am the latter.
But I am also someone who needs to gather certain momentum in the head, certain strong feelings about it, before writing it down. It is not writing block if I am not writing, I don’t need to be constantly writing to further the story.
It’s like programming – who knows about it, understands. The best programmers spend 90 per cent of their time in thinking, refining, designing the program and might write just a few lines each day. Yet these few lines are worth gold – they work faster and more reliably than the lines of code from someone who just jumped right into it and did it without thinking (of course, there are different ways of designing, some do it while writing code, but it mustn’t be confused with average programmers just jumping into writing). I am the first kind of programmer. When I hit a difficult spot in programming, I might open some news site, I might even do a game of solitaire, but my head is wrapping itself around the problem all that time. I keep thinking about it at some level until I am ready – and I might continue writing code from mid-news-article or mid-game.
And it’s also like drawing, where you don’t start from upper-left corner, fill the space line by line and then when you’ve reached the end of paper in bottom right corner, then you have the picture completed. Well, I suppose there might be some genius out there who does that, but as far as I know, even geniuses like Leonardo Da Vinci refined their drawing over and over again until it was absolutely perfect.
In writing stories it is similar, but the “designing” phase has to be more spread out for me over time. It wouldn’t do me no good to be full-time-writer either, I would need to let the ideas mature just the same. You can’t rush it. I am just slow at it.
But once the critical point has been reached, once I am full of it, I feel I am saturated with it, then I need to find a time to unload this and if I don’t, I’ll be frustrated at all times. If I am very busy at this time, I have to forget about the thoughts, suppress them, and it will be lost. But if I do find a free time in this stage, then I am writing and writing until I am satisfied; or I fall down, broken. Then and only then can the real passion, the real energy flow into the writing and only then do the results feel “real”.
While I was trying the challenge, I felt imprisoned, forced, and the results were not good. There were good moments, when I felt really hopeful that this would help me fulfill at least some of my dreams of getting out those books I have been wanting to write, but then at other times it seemed just as unrealistic as ever. Only once or twice there was a real energy high for me during this time and then I wrote longer pieces. I like to write longer. It wasn’t restricted, but the exact daily quota of 300 somehow took the energy to go further. You had already filled the obligation and you didn’t need to continue at this time. The quota came the main reason instead of the real reason behind the writing…
So, its a difficult dilemma – when I am writing daily some constant amount, I cannot work up that energy, but if I am not writing at all, the ideas will stay in my head, because I don’t talk about them, I don’t like to, I am much better at expressing myself in writing. That’s why I had to do something about it in the first place. I didn’t have that time to unload this stuff, to let the energy, that had formed the ideas, the stories in my head, flow. This seemed like a good idea, but while doing it I understood that this challenge was not it. I am glad I did something about it, even though it didn’t reach to the conclusion I wished for when I started. But it did lead me to understand that my writing style needed some other kind of commitment. I concluded I needed to make a regular unloading time for me – just a regular time, when I would be free of other obligations and if I had something to unload, I could do it. Or if I didn’t, I could do something else entirely. I wouldn’t have anybody else than myself to control me. That I organized for myself – just a free day a week. I hope it works better than the daily quota project did.
But at first don’t expect me to write here more often than before. I have so much to do still – salvage the static parts from the previous site and put them into a new form; and also the design here is awful still.
But here I am and here I’ll stay. I invite you to join me here by subscribing to my RSS or just bookmarking the site.
Discover who you are
Posted on 15.06.2010 and filed under everyday story,self-help.
Zombieing around I see them, running in the mill I see them, drowning their misery in distractions I see them… I wonder if they even know they have more in them than this pointless existence. I think they have no idea. Oh yes, I know some of them believe they have found it – in family, in religion, in work… But then I understand they are just forcing themselves to believe it, repeating the words over and over in hope it will stick to them, it will make them happy like the ads promise, as the anecdotes show. But this salvation really never comes. So they struggle on, through pain, through depression, through misery.
“This fleeting feeling, I think I saw somebody having it! I’ll do whatever they did and then the Grail will bless me as well!” But to no good end. This is just the same drudgery all over again, harnessing yourself before a load you don’t want to pull. Struggling to stumble forward, teeth pressed together ’till they bleed, just in the hope of finding it…
And then giving up. “This is folly! No such thing can exist! The only happiness can be found in pretension! Life is never as good as the fantasy that is so readily conjured up for you! Live through the screens, be somebody else for a moment! Forget who you are! That is the happiness you can have! Easy to obtain, ever wilder, louder and more extreme!” They try, but still it keeps haunting them. You see it in the moments between the pretensions of a heartfelt laugh, between the adrenalin highs. You see that they don’t believe it themselves. That can’t be right, this can’t be as good as it gets.
It is not. They are right, it can be better. Yet they keep on waving off this alarm bell that keeps on ringing, they rather plunge into yet another new thing, more, wilder, bigger, louder – either a distraction from their goal or a false one – maybe this time it will work as they promised…
I am sorry for them. I think they have never known that they have potential for greatness, they have potential for this happiness they seek, more readily available and more intense than they have ever imagined. They just have to stop. For once stop! Shut off the distractions, shut off the mirages. Listen to the alarm bell. It has a voice and this voice is yours. It tells you – maybe in a child’s voice, if you stopped listening to it that early, maybe a bit older and more developed – where you should go to find this happiness you seek. You yourself can be the only one to tell You what You want.
Oh, it won’t be easy to get it. You have to struggle, you have to show strength, cunning and bravery. But this time this is the real prize, the only possible prize for you. This is custom design, designed by You for You. This prize doesn’t make anyone else happy, yet you’ll see others grabbing for it, hindering you, struggling to get it from you. But this time You have more power they have – you have the passion, you have the knowledge of what exactly it is and the feeling that this is for You, this is what is right and this is what you will obtain.
Once you shut off the distraction, forget about the false goals and go where the alarm bells guide you to. Please, discover, and then remember who you are.
liriel
My thanks to Hugh for reminding me every day of who I am. 
Staircase
Posted on 13.06.2010 and filed under about me,art,everyday story,painting.
I was in a hurry to get there on time – I had registered to a course in painting and drawing a few weeks ago, but it turned out to be a busy week and I had had to stop working without completing the task I was currently working on. I just had to get going quickly to get there. I had never been to that house or that room, I had to take into account some time to find the right place. I found the house some 10 minutes before the course was to start. I went in to the door and found myself in a small old entrance room with two further doors. One had sign for another company on it, the other had the sign of the Art Academy I was enlisted to.
That door was locked.
Locked..? There had to be a course starting in ten minutes!
Upon close inspection I found a doorbell with a speaker amongst motley of partially torn ads and announcements. I pressed it. Someone answered on the speaker, asked about where I wanted to go – and right at that moment someone came out the door and I could go in. I hesitated for a moment – I still was not that sure, whether it was the right place – but I went in nonetheless after saying everything was OK to the speaker.
The moment I got in I felt there was something wrong still. I found myself in an empty staircase. After the first afternoon warmth of summer the staircase was chilly and gloomy. I went up to first floor, found the door with Art Academy sign – but that door, too, was locked. Now I found the doorbell more easily, but this time there was no answer. I waited for a while and pressed the button again. No luck.
Giving up, I looked around at where I was. The staircase continued up for a few more floors. I thought maybe they had a room upstairs somewhere for that course and started up. There were several doors with no signs on them. My steps echoed in the stone, walls had random drawings on them. The bleak stairwell reminded me of 3D shooter games, where you have grey-grey rooms and nobody anywhere to be seen and you have to figure out how to get out of this room – on to the other levels – with the items you have gathered previously. I was hard pressed not to start searching for hidden doors or kicking open any door that seemed to be hiding some room I could continue my quest in. And I have not played such games for years. Vigilant, careful, I sneaked up to the upmost level, where the staircase started to be dangerous, with no railing. I had found nothing useful up here. I was getting desperate.
I looked at the clock – five minutes until the course was supposed to start. Was I really in the wrong place? I remembered the course description – there was no room specified, just the address and Art Academy. I had not printed the description, could it be, that I didn’t notice some specification for the location? Maybe they had official location here but the course was to be held in some other rooms?
I went back to the door with their sign, pressed the doorbell again – with no luck. In addition to my agitation about my course, not being in the right place, the staircase with its floors upon floors started to frighten me as well. I felt haunted and strange, I rather went outside. In the sunlight it seemed strange that such a desolate place could be hiding right beyond that cosy-looking historical house. I used the wonders of our technical age there to get the phone number for the course organisator, to call her (she didn’t answer) and just then, as before, someone stepped out of that door and into the sunlight with a sign “Drawing and painting course” and started pasting it to the door. Happily I stepped in again. Through that door, that was locked before, but now had a carpet stopping it from falling closed; through still bleak corridor and up the staircase to the door, that had seemed the likeliest before. That, too had the sign for my course on it.
Later, after our teacher had spoken to us about how to use skechbooks and sent us out to try it out, draw in it some things we felt strongly about, I went and I couldn’t do anything else, I just had to keep drawing that staircase and nothing else but that.
300 words a day – can I do it?
Posted on 9.06.2010 and filed under about me,writing.
I just joined a writers club – 300 words a day. I’ll paste what I wrote them:
I don’t know what you expect from this first mail. I’ll write something I feel has to be written right now.
I am not a writer. Yet? I hope so. I wish I was one day. I have been wanting to get off from procrastinatination and daydreaming. When I was a child I dreamt about being an author for some books one day. I knew
they had to be eliticist, the kind that literature critics adore – but as an adult I have been terrified of doing that first step and being no good as all beginners must be at first.
I have a blog. Many who have read it, have said I write well and I have good English (not my primary language). Not many have read it though and I haven’t fed the ones that have. There have been months and months I haven’t written anything there. Yet I have ideas. Ideas I know I have to get out of me, out into the open. Ideas for fun, ideas for serious texts, ideas that might grow into full books…
It’s the same about drawing and painting. As a child I wanted to be an artist as well. Ideas are here, in my head, wanting to get out…
I think I’ll try. It’s time.
Maybe some days I’ll tell about a painting that isn’t ready yet. For me, that counts for something as well.
I hope you’ll accept me amongst you.
liriel
PS: Not really 300 words this time, though. I’ll try to do better tomorrow.
I’m terrified. I hope I can do it. I hope it is good news for you, who will receive at least some of those 300-word essays…
pisi-mõte töö ajal arvuti kaudu suhtlemisest
Posted on 14.05.2010 and filed under everyday story.
Tihti teen ma tööd ja samal ajal vestlen seltskondlikult mõne sõbraga arvutis leiduva tarkvara abil. See on omamoodi kummaline… Siin väike vestlus sel teemal(vestluse avaldamiseks on luba küsitud, vestluspartneri nimi ära muudetud vastavalt tema soovile):
liriel ütleb (11:03): teen siin kõrval vaikselt oma tööd eksole..
K. ütleb (11:03): einoh muidugi, nagu minagi… vähemalt natukese aja präast
liriel ütleb (11:04): see on nii kummaline, kuidas suudab siiski suhelda hoolimata sellest, et tegelikult samal ajal tööd teed.. ja nii häiriks, kui sedasi teeks “päris elus”
K. ütleb (11:05): “päris elus”?
K. ütleb (11:05): ahjaa, sa mõtled näost näkku
liriel ütleb (11:06): just
K. ütleb (11:06): jaaa, see on omapärane, aga nuh, mõnes mõttes on võib olla asi selles, et sa oled kirjutamise “modes”
K. ütleb (11:06): et sa kasutad sõrmi ja mõtled kuvaril või nii..
liriel ütleb (11:06): see oleks päris kummaline, et räägid kellegagi juttu ja samal ajal teed oma tööd rahulikult edasi
liriel ütleb (11:07): ma arvan, et osaliselt on asi ka selles, et siin vaata ei ole jutuajamine nii sujuv, on mingid hetked, kui sa ootad teise vastust
liriel ütleb (11:07): et kui juttu räägitakse, siis saad sa
liriel ütleb (11:07): jutu
liriel ütleb (11:07): kätte
liriel ütleb (11:07): jooksvalt
liriel ütleb (11:07): sõna
liriel ütleb (11:07): haaval
liriel ütleb (11:07): või
liriel ütleb (11:07): lausa
liriel ütleb (11:07): häälik
liriel ütleb (11:07): haaval
liriel ütleb (11:07): tegelikult
liriel ütleb (11:07): eksole
K. ütleb (11:08): oeh
K. ütleb (11:08): see on jah päris jube tegelikult
K. ütleb (11:08): rääkides pead sa kogu aeg keskenduma, siin keskendud sa sel hetkel kui sa ise kirjutad või vastust loed
liriel ütleb (11:08): jah.
Social vices
Posted on 12.05.2010 and filed under about me,children,self-help.
One of the biggest surprises in connection with my son’s first year in school has been the depth of my feelings when my son has reprimands in his diary. Every one of them I feel to be a reproach to me, that I have been the one to do something wrong; and on the other hand I see it as my son’s way of repudiating me and my teachings. Of course, I know, some amount of reprimands is to be expected of a normal boy (and I should worry more if there was none – and there hasn’t been a reprimand every week or so many that a sensible person should worry), but every reprimand is still a painful disappointment.
The most painful of all the reprimands my son has brought home this winter, have been those two where teachers have complained about him having cursed. As strange as it is, these have been more painful than the times he has brought home colorful descriptions of the gravity of injuries he has (accidentally?) inflicted. Only thing more painful than that would have been (and maybe can be in the future – if my son won’t be able to resist the temptation) information, that he is using drugs, even the most common cigarette. Common! I despise smoking and I am ashamed of the times when my hormones (or I-don’t-know-what) have got the better of me and I haven’t acted accordingly. I hold my breath when someone smokes in front of me on the street; me, who isn’t very brave to call others to order in any other situation, will point out the no smoking sign to those who try to do it in bus pavilions… I have deliberately acted decidedly scowlfully and I hope that this has taken deep enough roots in him to stay away from this vice even when at some point in his life somebody will offer the cigarettes to him.
Still I doubt it – smoking is a socially expected and deceitful, encouraged in the gangs at a certain age. I know that I had doubtful moments as well, when I would have tried it had the situation played out otherwise; it’s possible I would have even become a permanent addict. And yet I was a very well-behaved and socially little integrated child; I couldn’t even imagine proving myself in a social hierarchy with such a show of courage. Still I knew that it was expected and that this is expected in a certain – popular – circle, it is confirmation of you belonging to it. At age sixteen I started being more interested in the phenomenon from the social aspect and I began asking everyone I discovered having a smoke, the question “Why are you smoking?”. There were some different answers, but actually they confirmed my conviction that there is no good reason to be smoking. This is just a bad habit and all the smokers advised me never to try it if I asked them seriously and privately. In that I got the affirmation that it is stupid to be smoking and I don’t ever want to do it myself.
In a way it is very similar to cursing. It is expected as well socially in a certain age and to be popular in certain circles. It is also a kind of confirmation of the bonds and a test of courage. I have despised it even longer than smoking. Smoking I considered an interesting phenomenon until the age of sixteen and I was even studying it in a way, but cursing has always seemed coarser than I ever want to be, even before I was finished with half of the primary school. I don’t think I have ever truly used obscenities, but I remember a knowing decision – or rather bacoming to an understanding – that I am not the kind of person who would use them. Simple damned still slips over my lips but I never use any of the stronger words. I couldn’t if I wanted to (there have been a hateful moment or two). I rather not put those feelings into words – I might express them using primitive and universally understandable grunts or cries instead -, which accomplishes the goal without soiling me and the people around me.
Somehow this decision is more difficult to justify than my disdain of smoking. There is nothing unhealthy about cursing – it is rather considered an effective way of getting the feelings out – and repressed feelings are certainly a source of unnecessary stress. Still I see that the more educated and smarter the person the less you hear obscenities from them. For me it is – just like it is with smoking – always a big disappointment to I hear obscenities from someone I otherwise respect. I feel a painful stab in my heart each time I hear disappointment or pain turned vulgar with some obscenity, sometimes by someone I have considered my friend, in whose intelligence I have otherwise no reason to doubt.
Every time I hear them lowering themselves with coarse language I think whether I want to stay friends with them. Do I want to be close with someone who would pour the most repulsive imaginations into their closest ones upon some bad luck? Who doesn’t find better ways to express their feelings than obscene metaphors from areas where nobody would go willingly? Is it really possible that for them the frequent use of those words have diluted their meaning so much that they don’t understand how much damage they are doing to their image in the eyes of other people by cursing? Or maybe they are still on the level of eight-year-olds who would prove their greatness through demonstrating how careless they can be of others and the rules by using the most vulgar images and the most obscene words about them? Can one hope that they might still get out of this social level – understand what it means to show respect and consideration towards their companions and how to act accordingly; why those social rules have been set in place or developed and how hard the situation has to be for their breaking to be justified? There is a good article about it in The New Republic (Steven Pincher) (thanks, Vetikavabrik, for referring me there!). The article does write that if used skillfully, cursing can be interesting, even piquant – like a tiny amount of chilly in some dishes I’d say – but it is not something to pour over everything indiscriminately, hiding everything but its own taste; and the fame you could get by spreading such poison is questionable. By the way, I have practically quit using chilly as well.
For me the decision not to curse was intuitive and without a real justification. It was so self-explanatory that I have never considered it as something I should talk about with my son. I didn’t even think that my example wouldn’t be enough to avoid such vulgarity – and there is where I was wrong. Of course he still is an eight-year-old and is right now living through the ways the hierarchies develop in social circles and how to be popular there. It doesn’t justify cursing, it is just as lame as it is in grown-ups. I have tried to explain this to him, now. I really hope he will soon reach the understanding of what is going on socially and what is really meaningful there and what is even harmful. And I will try to stay calm in the meanwhile.
Shining people, hidden
Posted on 28.03.2010 and filed under about me,art,self-help,soul.
The first painting I did ever do by myself (not under the guidance of somebody else), years ago, was “Of Who I Am” (see right, click to see bigger, sorry for bad quality). That one surprised even me with how shining the colors were and how right it seemed about me. But it also got me thinking – I don’t think people perceive me like this. Actually, a friend once told me how surprised he was that my paintings always have such vibrant colors and dynamics. That he would have thought they would be darker and gloomier. And he is a friend, someone who knows me quite well!
What is truer then? The picture I drew myself, from inside of me, which I felt was true to the last line – or the picture those closest to me had of me? It took me a while to realize that they are both right. They are not distinct and different, but the same person seen from different perspectives. Just like the parable about blind people, who describe an elephant – one touches a leg, the other an ear, etc and so their descriptions do not and cannot match. That was the same about me and other people. I, the extrovert inside myself, can see myself – but others see my dull and blurred gloomy shell that I have laid layer by layer on this interior.
But why have I hidden it so well? And then I did another painting, Nothingness on the offensive (see right, click to see bigger). That is when I had realized, that I am not the only one that is so shiny, vibrant and dynamic inside. Everybody is. Everybody is special, trying to show that vital self but also frightened of the possibility that somebody could see it leak out. Frightened, and hiding it. Hiding it and dulling whatever is left of what is seen by the others, pretending it is not what it is. Showing only vague glimpses of themselves to their most trusted ones.
I saw this bright self most clearly when my sweet child was just learning to live in his first years. How brilliant he was, how passionate! How spontaneous, how direct, how trusting! And that is how it shows, the shining, vibrant self.
At the beginning we all are like that, even the introverts like me. We try to connect, to share what we feel to be ourselves, but we are not always welcomed to do so. We cannot be so selfish, we are thought – even before we know the word. We cannot do everything we want, we do not always get what we want. We are thought to behave, to follow orders, to do the way it is done.
It couldn’t be any other way. If we want to live together we need the rules, we need the limits, we need respect for other beings that are older and more knowledgeable – or weaker and uninitiated in the ways of human social life. We are called to order, we are taught the right behaviors. This can be done lovingly, carefully, without damaging the self inside, without hiding the real personality inside, let it be open to others still, but in a socially acceptable way.
But others are not ourselves, they are themselves. They can themselves be hiding, they might themselves have trouble protecting themselves, intuitively growling and biting to protect what they perceive as an attack against their most precious treasure. They can be busy living the way it is done, they can be busy acting properly, they can be busy distracting themselves from their true life. They are not really sharing themselves any more, they are afraid, hidden in the shell. That is why too often the tempering goes farther than is needed. Our ego gets bitten, our passions are ridiculed, our notions are laughed at, our thoughts dismissed.
The pain of the denial of that primal closeness that we feel to be our birthright! The pain and loss of that precious shining self! There is no bigger pain than losing part yourself! There is no bigger fear than the fear to lose yourself! And we’ll shelter it intuitively. Shelter it from the hurt, shelter it from the loss. We will lay the layers of the shell, we will hide ourselves behind the proper behavior – or in our bitterness and pain lash out to those that we think can help us be ourselves. We lay the layers one by another, we learn from the disappointments one after another, we cut our tentacles that are trying to reach out still to others, trying to connect the others and in that connection brightening ourselves. Some shelter it so hard, hide it so well, that they themselves even forget that it even exists.
How difficult making that connection can be from inside the shell! How difficult to entrust someone else with something from inside it! The shell is there to make it difficult, but still we long for it. We long for the connection with family and other people. We long for the unity of all people through connected vibrant selves. We long to share and take part. But only in showing yourself can this connection be made. So we show glimpses of it in hope the others will not diminish us and accept the connection. If not, the shell is hardened even more. If they do, we have made a connection, gained a friend and we might be encouraged to carefully show them more and more. And this is what we long for, that sharing of ourselves. This is what we love, the inner selves of others when we have in their passion given a hint of what it might be.
But nobody can share all of what they long to share – the shell is there, the shell is forever. The shell is needed. We cannot share it all. We must always be at our guard, because even the closest friend has their own shell, their own self to protect – and in doing so they might harm ours. So we share only a little, something that is just barely visible through the shell, but is there nonetheless. To be seen, to be heard, to be connected to. And we hide it – behind belittling it ourselves, behind lies, behind pretension. We do this dance of showing and hiding, tempting and then escaping, forever, never really opening up all the way.
And vice versa – we long to see the passion in others, we long to see their inner self, yet we know we cannot break in to get it. We need to give a piece of ourselves in return to get the other opened up voluntarily. And more than that we are afraid that what is offered is rejected – ridiculed, belittled, burned, bitten, torn. And so we’re afraid of it, so some of us don’t.
Still some have so desperately sought the connection that whenever they see a glimpse of the other’s they want to get it so much that they engulf them with everything they can, to incorporate it in their starvation for connection, to rip this tender self apart in the need to connect to it.
Still others have hidden it so well they have forgotten it’s there. They ridicule the notion it exists, they have a shadow of a connection through shared vicious denial of the possibility and then call it friendship. Yet they are always on guard that somebody in their midst could find out they too have that self hidden inside. Some of those say that it is negligible and they want to end their whole life – yet they come to say it to others, searching for connection with others through the impossible notion of giving up the possibility to live – and receiving only pity or contempt, which do not come close to that friendship they inside themselves had envisioned.
But everybody has it, whether they recognize or not, whether they show it or not. Here, here you have part of mine. This shell doesn’t have to be that thick and dense. It might let some of the light through. It might let you connect with friends; it might be your biggest strength instead of a liability to be hidden. This inner self is what gets things done the way you need to be happy. This inner self gives you the source for creating your meaning in life, for connecting with people you wish to connect to. Without it you are nothing. Go search for it inside you! Nurture it, love it – and you will get the connections you long for. At least I believe so. I am not there yet, but I am on my way and I can sometimes thin the shell to give a glimpse – though I am afraid, I am very much afraid of doing so.

Posts