Don’t Believe Me…

Posted on 2013 January 1 Tuesday


(It’s been several months, so I’m rusty… I hope you don’t mind that I’m writing again… and if you do, well, I’ll let you deal with that.)

Don't believe me...

Please don’t believe me. Or even listen to me as if I know anything about anything. I’m just guessing here, making various choices based on my own experiences and hoping that they work out. And if they don’t, well then, try again with something different. Or if it does, how can I keep it working, keep it being successful. Which is part the point I guess I’m trying to make. You see, to me, one of the most frightening things that I have to force myself to do is write. Well, not just write, but write and actively publish things that anyone can read and judge! And please don’t think that it’s because I fear that people may not like what I’ve written but rather:

‎”Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?”-Marianne Williamson

And no, I’ve not given into hubris, false or otherwise. I’m a teacher by vocation and avocation. I’m also a parent. Which means, strangely enough, that people (or particular individuals) have a tendency to give weight to what I have to say. And what most people fail to admit, to themselves or anyone else, is that frankly they/we/I may be full of shite. We could be absolutely completely totally wrong. Or we could be right. But it could be all because of the shite with which we are full. And the shite we are full of has various and inversely proportional degrees of some cosmic relationship to importance of other shite that we may have inadvertently believed (in honest error or blatant self-preservation and/or aggrandization) which may or may not be true. Sometimes, shite happens. In and of itself, it is not good nor evil but our perceptions of and reactions to shite defines not the event, but ourselves. After all, shite is the fertilizer that helps plants to grow.

We fear not only failure, but also success.

Corollary example: When contemplating asking that special someone out for the first time, the fear isn’t just the worst possible thing that could happen is he/she could say “No.” (in various degrees of humiliation) but, rather, also as frightening (and even perhaps mores so) that the object of our interest could say “Yes.” We could, despite our solid preparation for failure, actually succeed. And because we haven’t adequately prepared ourselves for being initially successful, but have, rather, prepared ourselves only for failure. Success takes us aback. We look about in askance totally unprepared and plan-less for actually getting things right (perhaps even accidentally). And then, strangely enough, we begin to search (after this initial success) for a reason for failure to be around the next corner. We are so unprepared for actually being good at something and so frightened by the prospect of having to keep the success going that we falter and fail, even when we had the ability and possibility to succeed.

And, of course, the inverse is also true. You can easily reverse all of the above (but don’t try it unless you’ve had a few) and be just as accurate. We prepare ourselves for either success or failure, but rarely for both. How we deal with our failures is as important as how deal with our  successes. Our actions may give our intentions but our reactions define our character. And it is completely and utterly individual. The rules of our lives are as unique as we ourselves.

Failure is ALWAYS an option; but so is Success. So you had best prepare for both. And then have a “Plan C”. Just in case.