Tag Archives: experience

Half empty

I remember this really funny card my aunt once gave her son, my cousin. He had a spell of bad luck that included being robbed at gun point at work, his parked car being hit and run, and then after being repaired the car was vandalized a day later. The card was a picture of a giraffe’s head looking up. It said something like, ‘When life gets you down, remember to look up…’ and inside the card it said, ‘It will probably rain down your nostrils’.

Things got better for my cousin. He really just had a string of bad luck all at once, and it didn’t take long for him to turn things around. He isn’t someone who acts like a victim, he doesn’t expect bad things to happen to him. But we all know people who do expect things to go wrong, who believe the world conspires against them. It’s a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Imagine how hard it is to live a life where your glass is always half empty. The system is out to get you. You feel picked on, and you ‘know’ that you are always being treated unfairly. How hard would life be? How bitter would you get?

It reminds me of Eeyore in Winnie the Pooh, except that he is passively expecting the worse. When people live glass half empty lives, the glass gets emptier, and the responses to anything bad get more and more bitter. It becomes easy to see and believe conspiracy theories because everything conspires against you.

“The system is corrupt, it is designed to keep me down. We are all victims of the system.”

What a hard life to live. I wonder what it would take to change a person like this so that they don’t see the world as undermining and targeting them? What kind of event or experience would change this person? What would it take to help fill their glass a little? Or would they just empty it to where they expect it to be?

Negative conjecture

Part 1: The world is out to get me

I was fairly new to administration and I was dealing with a student who had parents who seemed to believe the entire world was out to get them. Everything that happened to them and their child was not by mistake or circumstance, or by choices made by their kid or themselves, these things were planned and designed to make their life difficult. In my dealings with them I too was part of the problem, I was an extension to the system trying to knock them down. So were the teachers and youth worker. We were all, in their eyes, conspiring to make their lives miserable.

Imagine living your life thinking and believing that you were a victim of the world. How would that impact your daily life? What would your thought process be when something, or in your eyes everything, doesn’t go your way? Imagine believing that everything that happens today is simply evidence of the continuation of everything bad that has happened before.

Part 2: The things we didn’t do

I spent a lot of (younger) years wishing I had taken up karate. My uncles and an aunt trained and I watched them. Now decades later they are instructors and leaders in their club back in Barbados. I was a tiny 7-year old kid when they started, and my mom didn’t want me getting hurt. Later, in high school, I took up water polo and that led me to some amazing experience that I wouldn’t trade for the world. Coaching water polo is what inspired me to become a teacher. I’m not sure I would have followed either path had karate been my thing as a kid. I no longer look at this as a regret.

How many people do you know that define the world by what they didn’t do, on what they missed out on… on what could have been. How many people imagine the life choices they didn’t take, and see that life as so much better than their own?

I remember an English teacher in Grade 10 who told us how he was good friends with Jim Henson, the creator of the Muppets, and how Jim asked him to join along on this new venture. This teacher told us he didn’t regret his choice, but it was late enough in the year and we knew him well enough when he told us this, that we could hear the regret and disappointment in his voice. Strange that this is just about the only thing that I remember from this class.

Regret, disappointment. These thoughts define some people. People who live in a world that could have been, and never will be.

Part 3: The things that never happened

How many scenarios have gone through your head after you dealt with a scenario poorly? There was the thing you did and said, and there were so many other things that you could have done, could have said. ‘I wish, oh how I wish I could have handled that differently’. But your imagination doesn’t stop there. No, you go over the scenario again and again. Each time something different, something better happens in your mind. Your mind is filled with events that never happened; un-lived experiences; fictitious, more successful experiences.

Epilogue

Today is a new day, with new choices and new opportunities. We are shaped by our past, but our past is not our present. We learn, we grow, we make new choices. The world does not conspire against us. New opportunities will present themselves. Our choices we make can be different and better than the choices we made in the past. We are better off living our lives with positive conjecture… The world will conspire with us, not against us.

All the world is an improv stage

Think of the roles you play in life: A child, son or daughter to parents… Sibling. Student. Friend. Employee/Boss. Boyfriend/Girlfriend. Husband/Wife. Parent. Caregiver….

We take on so many roles in our lives. And when we take them on, we do so without an instruction manual. We play the role, not knowing how to really do it. You can be trained for a job, but not for every scenario you face. You can model yourself as a parent based on what you’ve seen other parents do, but your child will challenge your skills in unexpected ways.

Every role you take on will put you into situations where you are going off script, you are improvising to the best of your abilities. Sometimes nailing the role and making great choices. Sometimes bombing and making decisions that make the role harder.

All the world is a stage, and we are all actors, playing parts we learn as we play them. Some people play certain parts really well, while they flop in different roles. Not too many people, if any, are able to play each of their roles without struggling somewhere. We admire those that put on a show and do things really well. We complain about those that can’t or don’t play their role well. We often lack confidence that we can do our role well enough.

We are far more critical of how we play our roles compared to others. We often feel like we are the only ones acting… everyone else has a script. But there is no script. There is no one path, improv doesn’t work if everything is set up. It has rules to keep going well. It’s better to support the actors around you than it is to cut them off. It’s better to understand that you share the stage than trying to go solo.

It’s not about getting everything right. It’s about helping others when they are lost for their lines, their roles. It’s about sharing and laughing. It’s about enjoying the performance, even when it’s challenging. It’s about taking on new roles, and trying new things.

The world is your stage. The play is your playground. Improvise your roles as best as you can. And remember that others are improvising theirs roles too. Work with your fellow actors to create the best performance you can. But remember it’s all an act, and if you aren’t playing a role that works, change the role or change the way you act in it. All the world is an improv stage, and so you get to write the script as you go. Enjoy the performance, you only get one.

Time dilation

Yesterday I experienced a bit of a time warp. My morning went a bit slow, both in my productivity and in how long it felt. After lunch it felt like everything was thrown my way, and I was constantly on my ‘to do’ list, which seemed to be filled with things that took longer than they should.

At one point a package arrived, and I thought I’d take a break and take it to the teacher who ordered it. When I passed my grade 9 classroom it was empty, and I wondered where they were? As I learned, they had left for home. I thought it was about 2:30 in the afternoon and it was actually 3:50. It was almost an hour and a half later than I thought!

I’m always amazed by experiences like this. How can one hour of busy work or fun disappear, and another hour of slow work or boredom feel like an eternity? Just like actual time dilation is about time being different based on relative velocity, it seems as though we can experience this based on the velocity of our thoughts relative to actual time.

I also wonder about how relative time is based on our age. Five years is half of a lifetime to a 10 year old, but just 1/11th of a lifetime for me. Does my perception of time change with age? Does the importance of events alter because of the relative time of the experience compared to how many more experiences the event is compared to?

And what makes a single day feel both short and long at the same time? It’s early April, and I already know that the school year will be ending before I realize it. I’ll be swept up in all the things that are coming up, like report cards and grad prep, and suddenly I’ll be saying goodbye to a whole group of students. On that journey I’ll have long and short days, but looking back at the end of June, I’ll think the days from now until then just breezed by.

It’s not just a day in time that dilates, but weeks, months, and years too. It just seems strange… We want to fill our time with activities and events that are enjoyable and thus tend to go by faster. So, we are literally speeding up our lives. But the alternative is to spend a perceptually longer life that is less busy and enjoyable. Is one of the goals of life to have it feel like it’s going too fast? Or is this just an outcome of a good life?

One cation I think this brings attention to is that if time is going to race by, we should at least do our best to make it joyful and not just busy. Because time can also race by when we are just busy, but to what end?

Walking in one vs two worlds

I have shared that I’ve been blind to my own privilege. In the post I described how, “Despite my 1/2 Chinese father and my predominantly Ashkenazi Jewish roots, I have a look that Italians mistake for Greek, and Greeks mistake for Italian. I am neither. I’m used to not fitting into any box. In fact, whenever I have to fill out a survey that asked my race, I never check ‘white’. I always choose ‘Other’.“

But I am privileged. I pass as a white person even if I don’t identify as one. I am an immigrant, but that’s not something anyone assumes of me… meanwhile there are many second, third, fourth generation Canadians that might be thought of or assumed to be immigrants because of their appearance. I don’t have to live in 2 worlds. I don’t have to think about how others will perceive me. I don’t have to think about biases that people will judge me on based on my appearance.

This is why privileged people don’t notice their own privilege. When you live in just one world, you don’t know that you are missing another world that others have to deal with. The absence of something you’ve never had to deal with is not something that you know you are missing.

If you have never been hungry because you can’t afford food, you don’t really understand hunger. If your whole life you’ve seen a full spectrum of colours, you don’t know what it’s like to be colourblind. If you don’t have a learning disability, it’s hard to understand why someone with one can’t learn the same way as you.

Now flip it around, if you have gone really hungry, actually starving, and you’ve also seen people not ever face this, you understand there are two worlds. If you are colourblind and you are around people identifying things by colours you can’t see, you know that you are missing out, and likely always will. If you have a learning disability you get to watch others not struggle learning a relatively simple concept, while you do.

When you live in two worlds and you are disadvantaged in some way, it’s easy to see the privilege of not having to live in both worlds. When you live in just one, it’s harder to see the absence of the second world as being privileged. But it is.

The Wakeful Lucid Dream

When I was in my early 20’s I went through a period where I had trained myself to lucid dream. It was challenging because often, when I discovered I was dreaming, I’d get excited and wake up, ruining the experience. When it worked, it was amazing! The thing that I enjoyed doing the most was flying.

Last night I had a unique experience. I went to the spare room late at night to meditate, because I wrote for too long in the morning and didn’t have time to both meditate and exercise as part of my morning routine. I lay down rather than sat up and ended up falling asleep with my phone on my chest, moments after hearing the guided meditation end.

Shortly after dozing off I opened my eyes and my body was frozen. I couldn’t willfully move a muscle. I could see my chest rising with my phone on it. I could even see that the reflection in my turned off phone changed with my breathing. However, I couldn’t move a single muscle no matter how hard I tried, because I was still asleep. The first time this happened to me decades earlier, it was a frightening ordeal. But this time as I struggled to raise my hands, I felt them dislodge from my locked body and lift up in my dream state, despite not seeing them move. This control of an invisible body let me know that I was still dreaming. I was dreaming with my eyes open, aware of my body on the bed, phone on my chest, fingers clasped just above my belt buckle.

It didn’t last long, I sat up in my dream and visually I switched to the dream world, seeing a mirror directly in front of me, and looking at my reflection. I wasn’t sure what I should do so I tried to fly. I floated towards the door of the room, got excited to be flying and found myself looking at my waking body, suddenly no longer locked in the sleeping position.

I wiggled my fingers. I saw my phone on my chest, and could see that as my chest raised and fell with my breath, there was a reflection of a picture on the wall that moved in the dark screen. Remembering seeing this movement made me realize that while I was sleeping I wasn’t just dreaming that I could see my body, I actually had my eyes open and was aware of my body.

This was a short but very freaky experience. I was dreaming with my eyes open, simultaneously aware of seeing my physical body and also aware that I had no control over it my my dream state. I’m not sure I’ll be able to replicate this, especially since I had nodded off with the light on, but on most nights if I opened my eyes and saw the world while I dreamt, it would be dark with little detail to see.

I’m going to spend the next few nights trying to see if I can start to lucid dream again. The strategy that worked for me years ago was to tell myself before bed that if I noticed I was dreaming to simply lift my palm in from front of my face. If I could do this in a dream, that meant I had control of my dream… and that meant I could fly!

Sometimes I had to flap my arms other times I could just soar at will. Last night for a brief moment I got to float, and I want to feel the sensation of flying again. I’m not sure I can replicate the wakeful, eyes open, aware of my body sensation while dreaming again? But hopefully I can once again start controlling my dreams and taking to adventures in the air.

The sales pitch

We bought a TV last night from a wonderful man with the softest sales pitch I’ve ever experienced. This included going to competitor’s web pages to show us their prices, and sharing the actual cost of the TV we were buying. It was a smooth, sincere sounding pitch, from a delightful person.

He gave us a bit of his sales background as we were paying. During that time he said he started his career in car sales but he couldn’t stand it because, “It’s impossible to sell a car without lying.”

He didn’t tell us which car company he worked for. He did mention a couple different ‘big box outlets’ he worked at for over two decades, without saying anything bad about them. And the he shared the name of one he worked for, for just 6 months, that we should never buy from. And of course, now that he knows us, he can share the same kind of deals with our family and friends.

Except for the fact that he was the busiest salesperson on the floor and we had to wait a couple times while he dealt with other customers, the whole experience felt positive… from the first time we talked to him on the phone to when we left the store.

One funny point is that when he was on the phone with us, we thought he was a young, enthusiastic sales person, on his first sales job. We arrived and was told he was in the back with a customer and walked right by him without knowing him. When he found us he said, “Didn’t I tell you to look for the short bald man when we were on the phone?”

He didn’t, and my wife and I had a good chuckle about how mistaken we were about what this man would look liked. But the mistake fed into the appeal, who was this older-than-us man who sounded so genuinely enthusiastic to serve us over the phone? Turned out he was a nice man, working for a good company, with the smoothest, most enjoyable sales pitch I’ve ever heard.

A commissioned sales job is not a job I could ever do, and so I have respect for someone that can do it so well.

20 years experience

I heard a question yesterday that really made me think. The question was, “Does he have 20 years experience, or one year of experience repeated 20 times?”

Years of experience is different from years of growth. Many students finish grade 12 and graduate. Some did the bare minimum, some got really good at ‘doing school’ year after year, some come out lifelong learners ready for anything that comes their way, and will actually seek out new learning experiences.

The same can be said for teachers, doctors, lawyers, and tax accountants. Some get good at doing the same thing over and over, some are constantly learning and becoming better… many are a mix between the two.

What are you really good at? How long have you been doing it? What do you suck at, despite putting years into it? And for the latter, what are you going to do differently, so that you are adding to your experience, and not just your years of doing it.

I’ll never look at expertise the same again… ‘years of experience’ comes in many different forms.

The Van Gogh Exhibit

Here are some images and a short video from the Van Gogh Exhibit at the Vancouver Convention Centre:


This was truly a visual experience to be had. It begins with written information shared in socially distanced panels, then opens to the room in the images I shared above (there are 6 to scroll through on the Instagram post). If you get the opportunity to go, you will enjoy it.

Headspace

Yesterday I spent a good part of the day inside my own head. I don’t know if I’m the only one that experiences this sensation (or rather lack of sensation) or if it’s a quirk of the human condition we all experience? I was able to do my job, and I could interact with others, but I felt more like an observer than a participant. I wasn’t fully present.

This isn’t a headspace that I particularly enjoy. It is one where I don’t feel fully engaged in the world. I feel like a visitor in a foreign land, a stranger that vaguely understands my surroundings. I have to work to stay focused on a conversation because my thinking is too loud but not terribly interesting. I feel somewhat disengaged, not just from others but from myself.

Thankfully, the feeling is gone this morning. I don’t like to spend too much time ‘there’. It’s like the world outside my head is a movie that I must watch, but don’t really want to. Reading this now I feel like this should be titled head-case rather than headspace and wonder if someone reading this will recommend psychotherapy… but I also suspect that others will fully understand this experience. Is it really just me, or do others have these moments too?

I imagine for some people this can feel scary. For others, comfortable. For some they can put themselves here, for others they can’t leave. For me it is infrequent, it is not something I can talk my way out of, and it seldom lasts more than a day. It’s just a headspace that I sometimes get into… a mode of observing my own participation in the world around me, yet not feeling present.