Malcolm Gladswell's recent book, The Outliers, postulates that it takes 10,000 hours to become successful at something. In his book, he cites several people who have become enormously successful because of this concentrated time learning their craft, whatever it may be.
10,000 hours.
The idea intrigues me--it's as if it's been simmering in the back of my brain for some time. The concept first came to me in reference to Bonnie Raitt, the blues stinger and guitarist. And you can say, 'Oh--Bonnie Raitt--well that doesn't seem like much of a measure of success.' But it is to me. Bonnie Raitt was as good as many of the blues guitarists I've heard. And I wondered how did she get that good. A girl! Didn't she spend all those hours pouring over beauty and style magazines like every other girl? Didn't she spend all her time on the phone with friends, dissecting the curious behavior of men? Didn't she spend all those hours in malls, finding that perfect dress that would make her life complete? Where DID she find the time to get that good on a guitar, and find and sing those songs of such profound meaning and relevance?
10,000 hours.
I KNEW it.
Of course, now I feel a fool. I should have been spending the 10,000 hours getting good at--well--whatever it is I wanted to get successful and famous at. And there's the rub. You have to have the overwhelming desire for something before you can get to the 10,000 hours. You have to love something THAT MUCH to put in the 10,000 hours. That is what I lacked--for a long time. I spent the 10,000 hours, instead, looking into lidded,blue eyes of the man I love--memorizing the curve of his cheek and the tone of his voice. I spent it listening to my children's voices as they read to me. I spent it memorizing the sound of their laughter in the other room. I spent it committing to memory the patterns of their thinking. I spent it taking my aging mother shopping. I spent it at family gatherings, listening to the same old stories. I spent it reading, hiking, kayaking, swimming, lying on the beach. Learning to make a gumbo. Taking my dogs for walks, brushing my cat's fur. I spent it working jobs I didn't care about. I spent it following politics.
I squandered the 10,000 hours like a drunken sailor on leave.
But things are different now. I'm dedicated to this writing thing. I'm obsessed with this writing thing. I write constantly--wildly--with abandon. I write about things, I write about nothing. I write, write, write, hoping something will come of it.
10,000 hours.
Perhaps I'll get good at it. Too soon to tell.
I'm only on the 4000th hour.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
On Grooming
The whole metrosexual movement among men has really got me stumped. I like clean men, don't get me wrong--but men shouldn't be TOO clean. It's ungodly. It's unnatural. How can you trust a man that's always neat and tidy? How can he go hunt? How can you expect him to bring home the bloodied carcass of his prey? How can he fight the attackers? How can he possibly do the things a man is supposed to do if he's in the habit of obsessing about his appearance? I smell too much cologne on a man and I think 'salesman--be ready to say no.' But that's me. Maybe I'm just Old School.
Then, there are the women who also obsess about appearance, with products, and stylists, and clothing, and plastic surgery out the wazoo (am I mixing metaphors?). You cannot convince me that those women are spending an equal amount of time improving their inner selves as they are in redesigning their outer selves. Time alone doesn't allow it. Lives are busy and everyone sets their priorities.
And some might say, "Well, I have enough respect for myself to make sure I'm well groomed." I'm not talking about "well groomed." Everyone wants to be washed, and cut, and combed, and brushed, and wearing something crisp and flattering. I'm talking about that line that wanders into excess--that division that becomes self-absorbed neurosis and can even become psychosis. It's the excessive focus on the surface of things, and the neglect of all that is beneath the surface. This strikes me the reason for many of the bad decisions we as individuals, and as a society, often make. In seeing the surface alone, we agree to be easily fooled. We become like children, refusing to understand that life is complex and the true situation not always evident.
I know this all makes me sound like a bit of a slob. I'm not. I like pretty things. I like sweet-smeling things. I also like the truth. I also like real meaning.
I'm just wondering if appreciating those things is slowly going out of style. And if it is, what kind of world will we create?
Then, there are the women who also obsess about appearance, with products, and stylists, and clothing, and plastic surgery out the wazoo (am I mixing metaphors?). You cannot convince me that those women are spending an equal amount of time improving their inner selves as they are in redesigning their outer selves. Time alone doesn't allow it. Lives are busy and everyone sets their priorities.
And some might say, "Well, I have enough respect for myself to make sure I'm well groomed." I'm not talking about "well groomed." Everyone wants to be washed, and cut, and combed, and brushed, and wearing something crisp and flattering. I'm talking about that line that wanders into excess--that division that becomes self-absorbed neurosis and can even become psychosis. It's the excessive focus on the surface of things, and the neglect of all that is beneath the surface. This strikes me the reason for many of the bad decisions we as individuals, and as a society, often make. In seeing the surface alone, we agree to be easily fooled. We become like children, refusing to understand that life is complex and the true situation not always evident.
I know this all makes me sound like a bit of a slob. I'm not. I like pretty things. I like sweet-smeling things. I also like the truth. I also like real meaning.
I'm just wondering if appreciating those things is slowly going out of style. And if it is, what kind of world will we create?
Sunday, February 8, 2009
The Lyrics of Scarborough Faire - Eternal Love? or He's Just Not That Into You?
I recently went to a Renaissance Faire. Now, I know what you're thinking, the whole Medieval Faire thing is totally for geeks--but I really had a good time there, what with the costumes and acrobats and jugglers and musicians. It got me thinking about the medieval song Scarborough Faire, made famous in our age by Simon and Garfunkel. Anyone who doesn't know the song should get hold of their version--and also get hold of the lyrics. It's said to be a song about lost love, and contains a riddle wherein the singer asks his lady love to perform various impossible tasks to prove her love for him.
I see something else. I see a guy making it difficult for a woman to make a claim on him.
Scarborough was a town on the coast of England where a huge, 45-day trade festival was once held during medieval times. People from all over England and Europe came to trade at this festival, and it is likely all sorts of men and women intermingled there. The parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme part? Those were herbs from the Mediterranean that were brought to Europe and England in the medieval period. The herbs no doubt figured largely in the trade goods at the Faire, because they had just become popular for medicinal and cooking uses.
So what I'm picturing is this young Englishman who comes some distance to the Faire at Scarborough. He meets a young woman at the Faire, and they...well....let's say, enjoy a moment. Maybe several moments--it was a 45-day Faire. Unsurprisingly, he returns home--with his 'parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme' and resumes his life. Perhaps later, people returning from the Faire tell him the woman is looking for him. He has no intention of returning to her, or having her come to him--so what does he do? He makes up a riddle for her to solve. Do these impossible things, then we can be together. He probably already has a wife and growing family by this time. The very last thing he wants is this one-time fling showing up in his well-ordered life.
'Then she's be a true love of mine.' Not that she IS, mind you. She 'will be.' Hmmm.
Bards went from town to town playing this song with its haunting melody, adding verses as circumstances and inspiration led them to it. But the basis stayed the same. The riddle, the promise that never comes true, the sense of remembrance.
It's not a tale of regret over lost love--it's a song of a past fling and the message, 'Don't come here.'
That's what I make of it. Read the lyrics and background and see what you get.
Parsely, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
I see something else. I see a guy making it difficult for a woman to make a claim on him.
Scarborough was a town on the coast of England where a huge, 45-day trade festival was once held during medieval times. People from all over England and Europe came to trade at this festival, and it is likely all sorts of men and women intermingled there. The parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme part? Those were herbs from the Mediterranean that were brought to Europe and England in the medieval period. The herbs no doubt figured largely in the trade goods at the Faire, because they had just become popular for medicinal and cooking uses.
So what I'm picturing is this young Englishman who comes some distance to the Faire at Scarborough. He meets a young woman at the Faire, and they...well....let's say, enjoy a moment. Maybe several moments--it was a 45-day Faire. Unsurprisingly, he returns home--with his 'parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme' and resumes his life. Perhaps later, people returning from the Faire tell him the woman is looking for him. He has no intention of returning to her, or having her come to him--so what does he do? He makes up a riddle for her to solve. Do these impossible things, then we can be together. He probably already has a wife and growing family by this time. The very last thing he wants is this one-time fling showing up in his well-ordered life.
'Then she's be a true love of mine.' Not that she IS, mind you. She 'will be.' Hmmm.
Bards went from town to town playing this song with its haunting melody, adding verses as circumstances and inspiration led them to it. But the basis stayed the same. The riddle, the promise that never comes true, the sense of remembrance.
It's not a tale of regret over lost love--it's a song of a past fling and the message, 'Don't come here.'
That's what I make of it. Read the lyrics and background and see what you get.
Parsely, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
More Than This - A Study of the Now
I bought the Roxy Music/Bryan Ferry cd to replace an old cassette. This tells you something about the music contained therein—how it fits into my life even after twenty years from its initial release—and how much meaning I find in the music. On the cd is a song written by Bryan Ferry titled, More Than This, and this song might be familiar to everyone as the one featured in the Sophia Coppola film, Lost in Translation, with Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson.
In the movie, Bill Murray, in a rather halting, broken-voiced, yet thoroughly charming manner sings the words:
I could feel at the time
there was no way of knowing
fallen leaves in the night
who can say where they’re blowing
as free as the wind
and hopefully learning
why the sea on the tide
has no way of turning
More then this--you know, there’s nothing
more than this-- tell me one thing
more than this--there’s nothing
Meanwhile, in the background the soft, synthesized melody punctuates the loneliness-induced attraction between Murray and Johansson.
More than this—there is nothing.
The very vagueness of the song leads one into a revery. It has a very smooth, easy melody. It speaks specifically of nothing, yet implies a great deal. Something is happening—but there are no words to really express the feeling. Just a vague description of the moment.
If ever a song can make you smile to yourself about some random moment of absolute existence it is this one. And the song makes you remember again the feeling of lightness, wholeness, and absoluteness of the experience.
Maslow, the psychologist, calls these random moments ‘peak experiences.’ And that is the name most of us know the experience by—moments with their own intrinsic value, disoriented in time and space, accompanied by a loss of fear, anxiety, doubts, and inhibitions. And moreover, it is said these moments are timeless, spaceless, and are even characterized by a sense of unity, in which the subject and object become one.
It almost sounds religious—and in fact, some refer to it as mystical experience. But it is more than that. It is self-affirming and self-justifying. It’s a moment says very clearly, “I am here”—rather like the ‘you are here’ signs at the mall—and all the preconceived self-definitions, all the experiences that have colluded and conspired to make you ‘you’ seem to be of little significance. ‘You’ are this moment. ‘You’ are a being that feels this moment, that feels this whole and this good. “You’ feel yourself at an essential level, without all the labeling, both self-imposed and external, and without even the crutch of time.
You are here.
I had this experience recently, driving down the road to Fort Myers Beach on a warm spring evening, with the sun setting over the beach to my right. More Than This was playing on the radio. The man I most truly love, and have loved for years, rode beside me. As I drove along, no thought troubled my mind. No old business plagued my happiness. No worries for the future clouded my enjoyment. It was just that moment, riding in the car, with the sun pouring light on me, and the music playing gently. Nothing else had to be said about it. Nothing else could be described about it. Just me and the synthesized beat of the song rocking my brain like a lullaby, and the time and place that seemed like perfection. The moment passed, and my life resumed as normal, but the moment changed my outlook in a subtle way.
More than this—there is nothing.
Moments like these are an invitation to unload old self-definitions. Whether we call ourselves wives, mothers, fathers, professionals, students, workers, betrayed, abused, abandoned, actualized--these are invitations to look over that list of self-defintion and choose the ones we want. Perhaps we want none of them, and we choose to start with a clean slate—a tabula rasa of who we are. That’s the beauty of being human, that ease of shedding skin to be whatever we choose to be.
In the movie, Bill Murray, in a rather halting, broken-voiced, yet thoroughly charming manner sings the words:
I could feel at the time
there was no way of knowing
fallen leaves in the night
who can say where they’re blowing
as free as the wind
and hopefully learning
why the sea on the tide
has no way of turning
More then this--you know, there’s nothing
more than this-- tell me one thing
more than this--there’s nothing
Meanwhile, in the background the soft, synthesized melody punctuates the loneliness-induced attraction between Murray and Johansson.
More than this—there is nothing.
The very vagueness of the song leads one into a revery. It has a very smooth, easy melody. It speaks specifically of nothing, yet implies a great deal. Something is happening—but there are no words to really express the feeling. Just a vague description of the moment.
If ever a song can make you smile to yourself about some random moment of absolute existence it is this one. And the song makes you remember again the feeling of lightness, wholeness, and absoluteness of the experience.
Maslow, the psychologist, calls these random moments ‘peak experiences.’ And that is the name most of us know the experience by—moments with their own intrinsic value, disoriented in time and space, accompanied by a loss of fear, anxiety, doubts, and inhibitions. And moreover, it is said these moments are timeless, spaceless, and are even characterized by a sense of unity, in which the subject and object become one.
It almost sounds religious—and in fact, some refer to it as mystical experience. But it is more than that. It is self-affirming and self-justifying. It’s a moment says very clearly, “I am here”—rather like the ‘you are here’ signs at the mall—and all the preconceived self-definitions, all the experiences that have colluded and conspired to make you ‘you’ seem to be of little significance. ‘You’ are this moment. ‘You’ are a being that feels this moment, that feels this whole and this good. “You’ feel yourself at an essential level, without all the labeling, both self-imposed and external, and without even the crutch of time.
You are here.
I had this experience recently, driving down the road to Fort Myers Beach on a warm spring evening, with the sun setting over the beach to my right. More Than This was playing on the radio. The man I most truly love, and have loved for years, rode beside me. As I drove along, no thought troubled my mind. No old business plagued my happiness. No worries for the future clouded my enjoyment. It was just that moment, riding in the car, with the sun pouring light on me, and the music playing gently. Nothing else had to be said about it. Nothing else could be described about it. Just me and the synthesized beat of the song rocking my brain like a lullaby, and the time and place that seemed like perfection. The moment passed, and my life resumed as normal, but the moment changed my outlook in a subtle way.
More than this—there is nothing.
Moments like these are an invitation to unload old self-definitions. Whether we call ourselves wives, mothers, fathers, professionals, students, workers, betrayed, abused, abandoned, actualized--these are invitations to look over that list of self-defintion and choose the ones we want. Perhaps we want none of them, and we choose to start with a clean slate—a tabula rasa of who we are. That’s the beauty of being human, that ease of shedding skin to be whatever we choose to be.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
The Obama Inauguration - America's Quantum Leap
Hard to describe how I feel about the first black president being inaugurated. I’m not black, so I can only vaguely understand how Black Americans feel, but I'm happy for them. I hope they know how so many whites hoped and worked for this moment in history—not just the people who walked alongside them during civil rights marches—but those people who worked every day since then, in their personal and political lives, to make ‘equal opportunity for all’ not just a slogan bandied about for self-glorification, but a real living ideal, and real living condition of American reality.
I always saw something authentic and capable in the man. And when he won, I rejoiced, not only for the Democratic policies that he espoused, but because I had begun to lose faith in elections. I thought maybe the right wing media propaganda was too ubiquitous and strong. I thought maybe white Americans were too self-serving. But there it was—Change with a capital C.
The inauguration itself proved that Change to be a real thing. People wished each other well, people of all kinds. In a split second, we shed the despair and exclusion of the Bush years and began to believe again—in our power as citizens, in our ideals as Americans, in our future as hard-working innovators. It was an amazing thing to see and feel.
The nay-sayers are already out in force, and Rush Limbaugh has already called on his listeners to thwart the new president, even before Obama has taken office. We can’t let them win. We have to call out the lies and the half-truths that pepper right wing media propaganda. We have to refuse to be swayed by self-interest alone, because we already know for sure now—that way lies madness. And we have to knuckle down to the hard work of setting our country to rights, without too much grumbling, and without too much comparing at any given moment. We can do this, I know it. I know it because I saw the 2 million people gathered on the mall, every one of them representing a tiny bit of energy and intention that could help put us right. And each of them represented thousands more of that same dedicated, forward-looking momentum that can overcome just about anything. Like a rogue wave. I saw that, and I knew. This isn’t just a trend of enthusiasm—this isn’t just a fever of the moment—this is WHO WE ARE. Though we were buried so deeply in divisiveness, fear, and negativity.
God bless President Obama, and his elegant wife who will give up so much of the family’s personal time in order to help our nation. God bless those beautiful little daughters of his, who embody all that we hope for our children’s’ futures. And God bless all Americans, for the spirit they possess, for the ideals they hold dear, and for the work they have accomplished and will accomplish to make our nation even greater in the future.
I always saw something authentic and capable in the man. And when he won, I rejoiced, not only for the Democratic policies that he espoused, but because I had begun to lose faith in elections. I thought maybe the right wing media propaganda was too ubiquitous and strong. I thought maybe white Americans were too self-serving. But there it was—Change with a capital C.
The inauguration itself proved that Change to be a real thing. People wished each other well, people of all kinds. In a split second, we shed the despair and exclusion of the Bush years and began to believe again—in our power as citizens, in our ideals as Americans, in our future as hard-working innovators. It was an amazing thing to see and feel.
The nay-sayers are already out in force, and Rush Limbaugh has already called on his listeners to thwart the new president, even before Obama has taken office. We can’t let them win. We have to call out the lies and the half-truths that pepper right wing media propaganda. We have to refuse to be swayed by self-interest alone, because we already know for sure now—that way lies madness. And we have to knuckle down to the hard work of setting our country to rights, without too much grumbling, and without too much comparing at any given moment. We can do this, I know it. I know it because I saw the 2 million people gathered on the mall, every one of them representing a tiny bit of energy and intention that could help put us right. And each of them represented thousands more of that same dedicated, forward-looking momentum that can overcome just about anything. Like a rogue wave. I saw that, and I knew. This isn’t just a trend of enthusiasm—this isn’t just a fever of the moment—this is WHO WE ARE. Though we were buried so deeply in divisiveness, fear, and negativity.
God bless President Obama, and his elegant wife who will give up so much of the family’s personal time in order to help our nation. God bless those beautiful little daughters of his, who embody all that we hope for our children’s’ futures. And God bless all Americans, for the spirit they possess, for the ideals they hold dear, and for the work they have accomplished and will accomplish to make our nation even greater in the future.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
The Florida Economy--It Really Is That Bad
I live in Florida, and not even a very heavily populated part of Florida. Now, the big cities of Florida--as few and far between as they might be--might be hanging on in this troubled economy--I doubt it, because Florida is sustained by wealth that often comes from other places, and the wealth of many has been diminished on many fronts, and by many causes. Here in my little town, we are suffering. And I want people to know it. Here in my little town, the mortgage crisis and glut of foreclosed homes has hit new construction badly. In fact, it has stalled construction of residential properties altogether. Those who worked in and around the construction industry have found themselves without a job. Unemployment in my burg is officially 9.8%--but probably more. One in ten families are on food stamps. Food banks are seeing types of people they have never seen before, and their inventory is getting dangerously low. Homes sit empty, and cities are having to scramble to find SOMEONE responsible for their upkeep while in that limbo state between foreclosure and resale. And cuts are being made in the state budget of Florida that affect teachers, administrative workers, and other government services. In a word, it's bad here--very bad--and likely to get worse. Instead of seeing an increase in people retiring to Florida's sunshine, the state is seeing a drop, as those in colder areas of the country give up their dream of retiring in the sun. That means a smaller tax base, and less money for schools and services that would, in fact, draw even more people to Florida. We are snowballing downward in this state, and I don't see any turnaround for some time.
Those who doubt the value of a 'stimulus' for our economy should try living here for a while. We are NOT sustained by any government spending at the moment, and that's why we are heading into a downward spiral. There is no big-city-money and investing at the moment, and the people that live here are tightening belts and trying to help other family members that have found themselves in the economic doldrums of our time. That means even LESS money to sustain remaining businesses here, because the money will be tied up helping others. See the pattern? We have to get out of it somehow--not only here but in communities all across the nation.
I like to think of the nation's economy in the same way I think of my own. If a time of great trouble occurs, we may have to extend our credit in order to get through it, knowing all the while that it will put off some other dreams we had for the future, or re-arranging priorities to accommodate those dreams. We will have to do that as a nation, too. We may not be able to do the foreign aid we would have liked to prop up other governments. We might not be able to flex our military might as we are used to. We might not be able to 'take offense' whenever some tin-horn nation rattles a sword or lets out a cry in a threatening tone. We may have to remember our OWN goals and our OWN needs first.
Reality sucks--and we are waist-deep in it lately. Let's not listen to those making promises we know can't come true. And let's listen hard for the voices of reality--and sanity.
Those who doubt the value of a 'stimulus' for our economy should try living here for a while. We are NOT sustained by any government spending at the moment, and that's why we are heading into a downward spiral. There is no big-city-money and investing at the moment, and the people that live here are tightening belts and trying to help other family members that have found themselves in the economic doldrums of our time. That means even LESS money to sustain remaining businesses here, because the money will be tied up helping others. See the pattern? We have to get out of it somehow--not only here but in communities all across the nation.
I like to think of the nation's economy in the same way I think of my own. If a time of great trouble occurs, we may have to extend our credit in order to get through it, knowing all the while that it will put off some other dreams we had for the future, or re-arranging priorities to accommodate those dreams. We will have to do that as a nation, too. We may not be able to do the foreign aid we would have liked to prop up other governments. We might not be able to flex our military might as we are used to. We might not be able to 'take offense' whenever some tin-horn nation rattles a sword or lets out a cry in a threatening tone. We may have to remember our OWN goals and our OWN needs first.
Reality sucks--and we are waist-deep in it lately. Let's not listen to those making promises we know can't come true. And let's listen hard for the voices of reality--and sanity.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Fox News Bimbos are now...hilarious!
Okay--I thought it was just good marketing on Fox News' part when they started putting abnormally Barbie-dollish looking women on to talk about politics, news, and economics--but it has grown to an extent that it is seriously looking ridiculous now. One doll-like woman is followed by another--or they are all put on a panel looking for all the world like beauty contestants parodying the news.
They are all very attractive....perfectly groomed and leggy...sometimes in slinky outfits...mostly blonde...and every last one of them is designed to gratify Fox's male audience. Fox appears to now be the news for men...about men...advancing men's interests...because this bevy of beauties sure does not represent average American women. It's like the Playboy Channel Attempts Serious News.
And you can say "Well, you don't want to see ugly people on cable news, do you?"
Maybe we do. Maybe we're just beautied out. Maybe we can't relate anymore. Maybe we want to see people who look more like people. Maybe they're just TOO perfect--TOO all alike--TOO much like Stepford Anchorwomen.
Fox News--take note--now people laugh when they catch a look at your news shows.
You are now totally ridiculous.
They are all very attractive....perfectly groomed and leggy...sometimes in slinky outfits...mostly blonde...and every last one of them is designed to gratify Fox's male audience. Fox appears to now be the news for men...about men...advancing men's interests...because this bevy of beauties sure does not represent average American women. It's like the Playboy Channel Attempts Serious News.
And you can say "Well, you don't want to see ugly people on cable news, do you?"
Maybe we do. Maybe we're just beautied out. Maybe we can't relate anymore. Maybe we want to see people who look more like people. Maybe they're just TOO perfect--TOO all alike--TOO much like Stepford Anchorwomen.
Fox News--take note--now people laugh when they catch a look at your news shows.
You are now totally ridiculous.
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