Odyssey - the journey to Greece (2011) - Part 12 – The Art & Act of Compromise

Some friends have come down from Athens for the weekend to enjoy the Parathalasso – and possibly my company – and we began the weekend last night with a big, long catch-up on what we had been doing since we last saw each other (some seven or eight years have gone by).

They are newly married (6 weeks ago), while part of my recounting my tales of the last seven years includes me being happily divorced, so of course the topic of marriage became a major part of our discussion…

Or to put it more broadly, the topic of how to sustain a long-term relationship (LTR).

My contribution was more focused on what NOT to do, while theirs was a little more positive. 

After discussing matters such as character, values, background, interests, maturity and so on, we all centered on “compromise” as perhaps one of the key requirements of a successful LTR (or marriage).

So what does compromise entail? What does compromise require? What is the nature of compromise?

Looking at how compromise is defined is a good place to start:

com·pro·mise noun \ˈkäm-prə-ˌmīz\

1.              A settlement of differences by mutual concessions; an agreement reached by adjustment of conflicting or opposing claims, principles, etc., by reciprocal modification of demands.

2.              The result of such a settlement.

3.              Something intermediate between different things - the middle ground.

4.              A concession to something derogatory or prejudicial: a compromise of principles

In broader terms compromise is described thus:

To compromise is to make a deal where one person gives up part of his or her demand. In arguments, compromise is a concept of finding agreement through communication, through a mutual acceptance of terms—often involving variations from an original goal or desire.

Extremism is often considered as antonym to compromise, which, depending on context, may be associated with concepts of balance, tolerance.

In the negative connotation, compromise may be referred to as capitulation, referring to a "surrender" of objectives, principles, or material, in the process of negotiating an agreement. In human relationships "compromise" is frequently said to be an agreement that no party is happy with, this is because the parties involved often feel that they either gave away too much or that they received too little.

( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Compromise )

While we are prepared, and indeed usually keen, to find compromise in our business lives we seem to find it more difficult to achieve this in our personal lives.

In business, compromise is described – somewhat euphemistically perhaps– as “win-win”. It is desirable – indeed, it is a goal.

However, compromise in our personal affairs seems all too often to be characterized as “lose-lose”.  Why is this?

I think in our personal relationships we tend to see compromise as concession or capitulation more than we see it as “winning agreement” or finding an acceptable solution. But it shouldn’t be this way and it needn’t be this way.

In Freudian terms, we can probably make the safe assumption that compromise is ultimately delivered by the “SuperEgo”.

While the Id is our pure, unconscious nature based on the pleasure principle – by definition selfish and potentially destructive - the “Ego” is our reality principle, mediating between the needs of the “Id” and reality to avoid conflict or disaster. Meanwhile the “SuperEgo” is the corrective principle that works against the Id and counterbalances. It is the “conscience” that we all have.

The enlightened awareness of the implications of our “self” and its actions.

In philosophical terms the Ego is our “self”. So the corrective influence of a higher principle (the SuperEgo – or, more simply put, appropriate ideals) by definition means thinking beyond one’s self. This is perhaps the most basic driver of compromise – to think beyond one’s self and one’s own needs. The motivation for which is defined by the desired results the compromise – harmony, peace, progress, reconciliation etc.

In business we do this because we recognize that any deal has to make sense to both sides, but I would argue that in our personal affairs not only the same principle applies, BUT that there is an additional dimension . . .

By this I mean that in our personal relationships, preparedness to compromise is in itself an act of love. Beyond the pragmatic requirements of a relationship, which lead to the road of compromise, there is also the statement that compromise makes. “I love you enough to put myself second and to find a middle ground”. Assuming the affection and emotion is mutual then the reciprocation of the act of compromise will always ensure that there is balance and no-one feels it is a “lose-lose” situation.

So we can conclude here that compromise in a LTR is not only a requirement for sustainability and continuity, but it is a desired and desirable component to fully express our love and affection for the other person. However, there is the caveat of mutuality and reciprocation. If both parties are not equally committed to each other – and therefore both motivated to put the other first as an act of love and compromise to not only find a solution but also to express their love, then there will be an imbalance and someone will lose . . . and ultimately, if this balance does not self correct, the relationship is doomed to unhappiness or failure.

So how does this work in practice?

As I am in Greece it seems fitting to have a go at using dialogue to develop the theme a little . . .

Dave: “As newly-weds, what do you think is the key to a successful and happy marriage?”

Iris: “I think it is a number of things. Certainly it’s a matter of personality and character. Not that you have to be the same, but you have to have some harmony. Enough things in common, and enough differences to provide interest.”

Giannis: “A common “culture” or way of living together is important. It takes time and effort to find this, but it is key.”

Iris: “I think there needs to be some maturity also. It is easier to be happy and successful in a marriage when you have lived a little.”

Dave: “But maturity isn’t about age only. I know people who are happily married from the age of 25 or younger – they obviously had some kind of maturity to manage their marriage successfully, no?”

Giannis: “Maybe, or maybe not – they could have just had a very harmonious connection, a good balance and have therefore matured together over time.”

Dave: “I think values are very important. Shared and common basic values are crucial. Our values are truly embedded in us from our childhood, our parents, our surroundings. If these are not broadly shared between two people it will be very difficult to accommodate the difference as our values are perhaps the hardest thing for us to change.”

Iris: “You’re right. Values are very important – and they are a part of your personality and character. To this end it is important that the two personalities are compatible. It’s not about whether he likes motorcycles and I like shopping, its about the value system we share as people. But there will always be differences between people no matter how much they love each other.”

Giannis: “Yes, but this is where we have to find compromises. It’s always a question of compromise.”

Dave: “You are right. Compromise is perhaps the greatest challenge to and the greatest requirement for a successful marriage or relationship. Failure to find appropriate compromise was a major factor in the failure of my first marriage.”

Iris: “As we grow older it is easier to compromise  - our maturity helps us in this regard. We are less selfish, less in a hurry, more patient, more tolerant because we have lived more.”

Giannis: “I disagree. I think as we grow older we become less flexible, less prepared to compromise because we are set in our ways. We are used to doing things the way we want. It’s difficult to change that or accommodate others as you grow older.”

Iris: “But if you are older, more mature, don’t you become less rigidly attached to your ways? After all, you have had it “your way” for a long time, so isn’t it easier to let go of that for the sake of the other?”

Dave: “I think you are both right. As we grow older we are more certain in who we are and of course that means we are more rigidly defined as people and more clear on what we want and don’t want, but I also agree with Iris that as we grow older we also attach much less importance to our habits and preferences, because we don’t feel threatened by change or submission, or compromise. We are used to it, and indeed embrace it.”

Iris: “Yes, that is true. We do feel less frightened of compromise – both because we understand the benefits it can bring and because it is more comfortable for us to give up some things for the sake of compromise then when we are younger and less certain of ourselves.”

Giannis: “True. While I know what I want, I also know that I can from time to time give it up for the sake of someone else, or meet in the middle. It is easier now then when I was younger.”

Dave: “So compromise is easier as we mature and grow older because we are more sensitive, although the need for compromise perhaps becomes greater because we are more set in our ways and clearer about what we want and need. Interesting.”

And so we concluded our discussion fuelled by much local wine.

Compromise is more necessary as your needs and priorities are clearer, but easier to reach with time and experience aiding you in the giving up of certain things. And in LTRs and personal relationships the art of reaching compromise is also the act of showing selfless love for someone else. Achieving this balance will create a happy and sustainable co-existence - provided it is reciprocal and achieved through mutuality.

When I was young and foolish (i.e. more foolish than now), I used to find compromise compromising. I have matured over the years and now see it not as an enemy to harmonious and happy existence but as a necessary precursor to it.

Compromise is not weakness. It is love.

Plato might be proud.

Odyssey - the journey to Greece (2011) - Part 11 – Instinct & Intuition

Despite a comparatively late night, I woke up early this morning, felt very awake and lucid, and thus decided to see the day break – something which I usually do at least once while on vacation, although usually it precedes sleep rather than follows it!

Sunrise over Monastiraki

The sea is perfectly calm  - like oil as the Greeks say – and the sun is rising up slowly over the far off mountains on the other side of this little bay on the coastline. Shades of pink and orange emanating like a halo from the hills in a splash of colour that would have pricked the interested of J.M.W. Turner.

The noise of an occasional car and the pump for the swimming pool compete with the early bird song while a small fishing boat glides across the water in the distance.

Peaceful, idyllic and refreshing.

As I come towards the end of my time in Greece – and thus most likely towards the end of the more philosophical pieces of writing  - I wanted to devote a little time to the topic of instinct & intuition. Something of a follow-on from my piece on “connections”. (http://osapp.blogspot.com/2011/09/odyssey-journey-to-greece-2011-part-10.html )

These two methods of interpreting the world and making decisions are my two most prized. According to the psychometric tests I am a highly intuitive person, while according to experience I use my instincts more than I use my logic. Logic and reason really often only being used to post-rationalise or justify why we’re going with what I am sure is true / right in the first place. . .

Defined as the ability to acquire knowledge or directly perceive truth without the use of reason, intuition takes up a special place in Jungian psychological theory.

“Jung said that a person in whom intuition was dominant, an "intuitive type", acted not on the basis of rational judgment but on sheer intensity of perception. An extraverted intuitive type, "the natural champion of all minorities with a future", orients to new and promising but unproven possibilities, often leaving to chase after a new possibility before old ventures have borne fruit, oblivious to his or her own welfare in the constant pursuit of change . . . Jung thought that extraverted intuitive types were likely entrepreneurs, speculators, cultural revolutionaries, often undone by a desire to escape every situation before it becomes settled and constraining—even repeatedly leaving lovers for the sake of new romantic possibilities. His introverted intuitive types were likely mystics, prophets, or cranks, struggling with a tension between protecting their visions from influence by others and making their ideas comprehensible and reasonably persuasive to others—a necessity for those visions to bear real fruit.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intuition_(knowledge) )

It struck me that following the topic of my previous piece on “connections”, it may be that the attraction to “random” people is perhaps driven mainly by intuition and instinct.

Intuitive people tend to see patterns in things that rational people do not. Rational people use data, focus on detail and are characterized in psychological terms as “sensing”, and “left brain” compared to the right brain approach of intuitive people.

Following this logic it would seem that rational people would automatically prefer the connections with people that are built on the logic of structure and obvious context – the “institutional” connections I referred to previously. While intuitive people would in fact see the same attractions in what appear to be random people – because they can see something in them that has no basis in - as yet experienced - fact. In other words, there is no empirical evidence to suggest any reason for connection, but yet, there is clear and obvious motivation for the connection for the intuitive person. It makes sense to them. Kismet. It is our destiny to know these people – even though on the surface there appears to be no reason or rhyme.

So in this sense there is really nothing random about the connections that intuitive people make – the connections just appear random when logic and rational thought are applied to understand them.

For intuitive people, the “random” connections are usually with people who actually strike some kind of a chord that is somewhat akin to “memory”. The patterns we perceive in the “random” person are familiar, resonate, and are therefore trustworthy as they align with other patterns that are already familiar to us. We “remember” the random people we meet although we have never met them before.

Most of this seems to happen unconsciously and therefore provides a “high” of excitement as we discover someone we were in fact destined to know from the outset. The only random part is the initial contact that prompts the transmission of the signals (VIA) which the intuitive person can pick up and which the rational person may not – or at least not so easily.

Intuition and instinct in decision making (c.f. “Blink”) is similar. We see a pattern, we recognize it somehow outside the boundaries of logic and rational thought, we align it with patterns we know, and we feel the necessary comfort to make a decision and take a risk. The risk appearing in factual terms to be much larger than we actually feel it – because we have intuited the decision and have already underpinned it with our “knowledge” gained from our intuition.

So when it comes to intuitive people, not only are “random” connections less random than I thought, they are also less “risky” as the intuitive person knows somewhere inside that the risks are in fact much less than they might at first appear to the rational mind.

The use of intuition to determine and decide connections with other intuitive people would also explain the rapidity and intensity with which those connections develop. They can speed ahead in their connection and relationship because many of the normal precursors to forming a connection with someone are already verified, ratified and certified by the intuition of both people.

However, when an intuitive person forms a connection with a rational person, it is less rapid, for while the intuitive person is already sold on the idea, the rational person is still processing factual data to contextualize what the intuitive person has already “seen” and felt.

The note of caution of course comes in the assumptions that intuitive people make which prevent them from even the most cursory verifications once a connection has established.

I have had many relationships / friendships where there is an assumption that everyone is on the “same page” but in fact it isn’t necessarily true. What creates a connection isn’t necessarily what can sustain it. And here both intuitive and rational people have to recognize the need to verify – through listening, attentiveness, questions, and remaining free enough in mindset to adapt to the “reality” of the developing connection. If not, then things can go wrong quite quickly!

Finally, the intuitive people have strong instincts for the “next thing” and as such are often looking to depart quickly from the present to arrive in the future – as such displaying enormous capacity for change, novelty and diversity – to the extent that rational people have difficulty understanding their ability to do this.

While this energy for constant departure and arrival can be very powerful in a positive way, it can also be destructive if unchecked. Sometimes we don’t need to depart to find something new. Sometimes we can stay and find new things where we are or with the people we are with – and that can be equally nourishing and rewarding. But it requires self-discipline and self-awareness – and total honesty with oneself, and usually with others – otherwise we can get into a mess, replace intuition with wishful thinking and generally cause misunderstanding.

So to intuitive people reading his, it probably all makes total sense and is obvious. For rational people, welcome to our world. We’re not crazy, adrenaline junkies with no staying power. We’re just massively curious about the possibilities of life and hungry to understand them. What frightens you or makes you feel uncomfortable, makes us tick, gives us fuel and energy and is necessary for us to sustain life.

But we know that to get along with everyone, we need to slow down, take stock sometimes and understand that what comes naturally to us, does not come naturally to everyone – and more importantly that rational people’s ability to sort fact from fiction, to understand the finer details might be something we can very usefully learn from.

Just the other day I intuited how to use a cooker in my villa when I found out how to make the dial come out of the face of the cooker and turned it to “bake”. Happily a rational person was close by and reminded me that I also had to turn the cooker on, and not just dial the setting . . . our delicious pastourmadopites took a little longer to come to the table that day, but when they did it was a triumph of rational thinking over intuition!

Odyssey - the journey to Greece (2011) - Part 10 – Connections . . .

I’ve been thinking about this topic for about three or four days now. There are a number of reasons / events  - and one very specific - that have caused it to come front of mind, but mainly it is because in my current state of “vacation”.

Let me first clarify what I mean by “connection” – or rather what I don’t mean. I don’t mean “can you use your connections to get me tickets”. What I do mean, is those tangible and intangible things which connect us to people.

As I rode through the hills and valleys from Nafpaktos down to Kalamata to visit friends I kept reflecting on what are the things that connect us to people, how do they differ, and what are the factors that change or affect them.

My first thought was that there are basically two kinds of connection we form with people. I’m going to call them “institutional” and “random”.

Institutional connections with people arise primarily from institutions - funny that! – and include family, school, university, work, social circle etc.

These institutions have rules, codes, contexts and histories. We build our connection with people from these institutions based primarily on the platforms provided. Our first friends our typically the children of our parent’s friends. Then we move on to making connections with other children at nursery school and throughout our childhood through schools and our local community activities (e.g. scouts, swimming club, etc.). Sometimes these friends overlap across institutions – i.e. you go to school with kids who you know from being your parent’s friends children.

A similar thing happens as one goes to high school and university – but of course as our number of institutions expands, so does our circle of connections and the contexts from which they have grown.

Then we start work and meet new people through work and build more institutional circles, some with overlaps and some not.

We’ve all been in the situation where two separate circles of friends meet – say work friends and university friends – and the occasional awkwardness that this can sometimes produce as they know you – or connect to you - from very different perspectives.

Our best connections have usually evolved over years and transcend this kind of contextual demarcation  - mainly because the friendship is truly deep and thus does not rely on the props of a shared experience or the “in-joke” or specific contexts of institutional connections.

But the other kind of connection is the one that has really interested me in the last few days. The “Random” connection. The connection that has no real context or if it does, it is based on a very tiny context in comparison to the “institutional” connection.

And it is the nature of the “random” connection that is interesting. Precisely what is it that connects us to people we don’t know and have no context for knowing?

Is it vibe? An intangible aesthetic? An idea? A notion? A hope? An unconscious need?

I have truly struggled to define this as I have thought about it. The closest I have come so far is a mix of values and interests which at some point converge to form a transmission of some kind – like a radio signal – which can be picked up very quickly by people with an equal or receptive capacity for those same values and interests. It is a momentary thing – instant.

We have all shared a knowing look with a stranger in a bar or at a bus station. Where we both know that we are thinking the same thing. The difference is with the random connection is that instead of then forgetting the person at the bar or in the bus station, we instead find ourselves drawn to them and we connect somehow.

Some of the most interesting, stimulating and important people that I have “connected” with in the last ten years have been totally random connections. There has been no rhyme or reason as to why I should have ever met them other than a freak moment of chance that brought us in contact, allowed a single transmission of a V&I signal and resulted in us becoming connected.

There is another dimension that complicates (or enriches depending on your perspective)  - gender. When we talk about connections to people of the opposite sex, there is  - at least in my experience – the third dimension of attraction. Attraction beyond the “Values” and “Interests”. That impossible to describe aspect of encountering someone of different gender and understanding immediately an attraction or not, without being able to meaningfully define it. So Values & Interests & Attraction. VIA.

I find random connections incredibly vital as each that I can recall has massively expanded my life compared to the incremental enrichment I get from connecting with people from more institutional contexts.  Of course, random connections can become institutionalized – they become part of a circle somehow, even if the circle is just one person, or they become colleagues, girlfriends, boyfriends, wives, husbands or a man you see at the bar sometimes.

A good example is my friend Jon - the drummer in my last band. Jon was a guy I met randomly at a party when we played together in an improvised jam session – me on guitar and vocals, him on the drums. We had fun playing music together and so exchanged numbers and then had no contact for four years.

One random day – four years later - I rang him up to see if he was still in the country. He was. I asked if he fancied putting a blues band together. He did. We put the band together and became great friends. The band became an institution of course, and our connection ultimately transferred to that context – but before it became institutionalized it was a great new connection that gave me a lot of pleasure and satisfaction.

Random connections – because they do not rely on props or contexts – are typically very honest and vital in my experience. They are exciting – because of their novelty and because of their unpredictability – but also because of their freedom.

Of course this cannot and does not last . . . once a random connection begins to institutionalize it begins to adopt rules and codes – self determined or established - and then it becomes more predictable. A friendship demands certain attentions, behaviours and actions, a romantic relationship others and so on. But in the beginning, the unknown is tremendously exciting – particularly as one considers possibilities and their probabilities . . .

To qualify as a random connection, as opposed to just a new institutional connection, I think there must be as little in common as possible between the two people other than the thing that initially connects them. That could be an event (an earthquake or other kind of disaster) or a shared interest (a concert of a favourite musician, a book signing etc.) or even more random acts such as bumping into someone in a museum or at a bus stop and starting a conversation.

My favourite “random” people in my life are from different countries, different cultures, different mother tongues, different backgrounds, different religions, different ages etc - and it’s perhaps this diversity which I find both interesting and enriching – particularly as somewhere in all of that we have something in common which we discovered quickly and which connected us.

I also think that there are two kinds of approach that people have to this phenomenon (if indeed it is recognized or understood by anyone other than me!) . . .

Those who find great comfort in their institutions and therefore in their institutional connections, and those who accept their institutions for what they are – and the connections within them – but for whom the random connections are essential.

In other words there are people who shy away from or avoid random connections and those who seek them out.

In terms of what draws people to the “random team” I think it’s partly a function of curiosity (certainly in my case) and partly a function of looking for other energy outside of the normal framework of reference.

Those who prefer the safety and structure of institutionalized connections do not like the anxiety or uncertainty of a random connection, nor the “risk” implied in it. For there is risk when you put yourself out there with a stranger of any kind – a quid pro quo of course in terms of exposure and vulnerability, but nevertheless, you have to be prepared to take the risk…and be curious.

While my oldest and best friend is someone who I went to school with and have been close to ever since, many of my other great friendships / associations / relationships, began as “random” connections – and certainly the people who are most important to me and influential in my life today began as “randoms” – in other words they had no reason to cross my path or me theirs at all, but their VI or VIA was so strong, we connected and usually right away.

In terms of the kinds of connections one forms with random people, the connection can be narrow or broad. With institutional connections there is usually a much more specific band defined usually by the context in which the connection was formed. For example, a work colleague is the kind of connection which ranges from acquaintance to friend while a random connection could just be someone who really digs your favourite hobby and you connect on that – or they could end up being your husband or wife.

Indeed, my ex-wife (or the “First Wife” as I optimistically like to refer to her . . .) was a “random” – we had almost no context at all. Ironically we created two institutions – marriage and then divorce - and thus we have the context that we created together and then later abandoned together. Now we remain good institutional friends.

Another feature of random connections in my experience is the rapidity – and indeed intensity - with which the connection forms – usually a matter of days, but sometimes even hours or minutes – while institutional connections, again because of their context, tend to develop over a longer period.

This may explain the concept of “love at first sight” to some degree – although not all random connections are built on love as a premise, and usually only those that involve the A factor in the VI equation.

And of course, “love at first sight” goes one of two ways. It stays random briefly before it dies or eventually it becomes institutionalized!

By definition, random connections cannot be chosen or sought. They happen. This is – for me at least – part of the excitement of them. Moreover, I don’t think people can choose to be a person who is attracted to the random connection or the institutional connection. I think we all experience both, but some of us prefer and get more energy from random connections and some prefer and get more energy from the comfort of institutional connections.

Again, it is about appetite for risk, preparedness for vulnerability, and ability to accept change, novelty and the unknown. . .

Life is bigger than Facebook and fellow alumni. It is richer and more exciting than that. But to get the most out of life – and to connect to other people’s lives – you have got to take risks. You’ve got to be open and unafraid –certainly if the connection is to be deep and valuable.

So - to Pete, Amanda, Dick, Maggie F, Maggie G (who’d have thought that two randoms would have the same name!), Greg, Jon, Osio, Anna, and others - and yes, you, the person reading this wondering about our connection - thank you for being random, for transmitting / receiving when you did (and the way you did) and ultimately for connecting.

Whether it was brief, long or is still unfolding, I enjoy / enjoyed it and am grateful.

And to all my “institutional” friends  - the ones I met at school, at work or at play, or even randomly once upon a time – you are appreciated equally deeply and fondly of course.

I wonder who I will meet tomorrow?

Odyssey - the journey to Greece (2011) - Part 9 – OSAPP

It struck me that not everyone will know the reference in the title of this blog and that I probably ought to address that . . . 

It is a song – by Tom Waits - from his first album – 1973’s “Closing Time”.

It’s about departure, ending, separation – but it’s also about the call of the road.

I love it.

You can hear it here: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yatoHMUQ_Ps  

Old Shoes & Picture Postcards – Tom Waits (1973)

I'm singing this song, it's time it was sung
I've been putting it off for a while,
But it's harder by now, 'cause the truth is so clear
That I cry when I'm seeing you smile.
So goodbye, so long, the road calls me dear
And your tears cannot bind me anymore,
And farewell to the girl with the sun in her eyes
Can I kiss you, and then I'll be gone.

Every time that I tried to tell
that we'd lost the magic we had at the start,
I would weep my heart when I looked in your eyes
And I searched once again for the spark.
So goodbye, so long, the road calls me dear
And your tears cannot bind me anymore,
And farewell to the girl with the sun in her eyes
Can I kiss you, and then I'll be gone.

I can see by your eyes, it's time now to go
So I'll leave you to cry in the rain,
Though I held in my hand, the key to all joy
Honey my heart was not born to be tamed.
So goodbye, so long, the road calls me dear
And your tears cannot bind me anymore,
And farewell to the girl with the sun in her eyes
Can I kiss you, and then I'll be gone.

So goodbye, so long, the road calls me dear
And your tears cannot bind me anymore,
And farewell to the girl with the sun in her eyes
Can I kiss you, and then I'll be gone,
Can I kiss you, and then I'll be gone,
can I kiss you, and then I'll be gone.

Odyssey - the journey to Greece (2011) - Part 8 – So this is it?

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita

Mi ritrovai per una selva oscura

Che la diritta via era smarrita

[Canto 1, Inferno, La Divina Commedia, Dante Alighieri]

In the middle of the journey of our life
I found myself astray in a dark wood
where the straight road had been lost sight of.

[Translation by Seamus Heaney]

Recently – and I don’t know if it is connected to turning 40 earlier this year – I have been having some repeated thoughts on where I am at in life and my identity . . .

A theme that has developed can be best summarized with “I guess this is kind of how it is and how it’s going to be.”

What do I mean by that?

Well, I think I may have grown up. ("Hooray!" cheered the remaining parent!)

I seem to be content with most aspects of my life, with the things I do, with the people I spend time with, and mostly with myself. And those things which I am not content with, I am able to deal with.

In my teenage years and into my twenties I was so thirsty for new experiences that I did everything I could to chase them. Nothing satisfied me for more than a little while and then I was on to the next thing, greedily hoovering up experiences and information as quickly as I could.  As a result it was really pretty difficult for anyone – and especially me – to know who I was.

In my thirties I began to settle slightly and come to terms with life a little more. I stopped searching quite so much for the new, and tried instead to become more familiar with what was already in my life – and in me. A tough process.

When you’ve spent your life hitherto running from one thing to another, metamorphosing constantly and deliberately, to suddenly sit and catch up with yourself takes some getting used to. But it’s a valuable process, as well as a tough one.

Now I seem to be happy in the knowledge that more or less things are going to be like this. And probably not like that.

I’m not going to develop any new hobbies. I’m not going to become an athlete, star in a movie, build a business empire, change the world, or learn a new language. I’m not going to take up any more musical instruments and I will probably never play golf. The places I like to spend time – like here in Greece – will still be the places I like to spend time and the people in my life will hopefully remain and be constant.

This is not to say that I won’t travel, I won’t meet new people, listen to new music or try new food etc. That would actually signal death.

No, no – it just means that I am the way I am, and at this stage in my late development, it isn’t likely to change.

A few years ago that thought would have scared the living daylights out of me and would have been something I would have kicked against hard. But now it seems to be natural and somewhat calming. I don’t need too many new things or new experiences to be content.

It doesn’t mean to say either that there aren’t things in my life that I don’t want to change – there are.  Plenty. Nor does it mean that I don’t foresee myself continuing to grow (& grow up) – it is just a realization of “maybe this is who I am.”

And perhaps more importantly – finally being moderately comfortable with that thought.

I still need to balance, to sensitize, to contextualize and to moderate – but I feel lately that this is both possible / achievable and again, importantly, something that will come naturally.

So . . .this is it. And I quite like it.

Odyssey - the journey to Greece (2011) - Part 7 – Life & Death

There was a great Texan country folk singer by the name of Townes Van Zandt who died in 1997. Townes Van Zandt wrote beautiful songs / poems and performed them with a melancholy that is almost unsurpassed. Even his love songs like “If I Needed You” sound sad.

He was a long term heroin addict and chronic alcoholic who once offered to sell all the publishing rights of his songs for $20 to get some smack, and also once shot up in front of his 8 year old son. He died at the age of 52.

One of his blacker songs – and one of my favourites – is “Waiting Around To Die”:

Waiting Around To Die – Townes Van Zandt

Sometimes I don't know where this dirty road is taking me
Sometimes I can't even see the reason why
I guess I keep on gamblin', lots of booze and lots of ramblin'
It's easier than just a-waitin' 'round to die

One-time friends I had a ma, I even had a pa
He beat her with a belt once cause she cried
She told him to take care of me, she headed down to Tennessee
It's easier than just a-waitin' 'round to die

I came of age and found a girl in a Tuscaloosa bar
She cleaned me out and hit it on the sly
I tried to kill the pain, I bought some wine and hopped a train
Seemed easier than just a-waitin' 'round to die

A friend said he knew where some easy money was
We robbed a man and brother did we fly
The posse caught up with me, drug me back to Muskogee
It's two long years, just a-waitin' 'round to die

Now I'm out of prison, I got me a friend at last
He don't steal or cheat or drink or lie
His name's codeine, he's the nicest thing I've seen
Together we're gonna wait around and die

The original tune from the album it came from is here (with some great photos of Townes): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MwR1n0p1V7U

Another great recording is this duet with Townes and Calvin Russell: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bNM4OwJX1H0

From the brief biography and the song above, it is pretty clear that while Townes had talent, friends, family, money, some success (although while alive he was always something of a “cult” musician – and very much a musician’s musician), and many other opportunities besides, for him life was too much of a challenge. Life for him was about waiting around to die – which he did. Far too young.

For those of us with far less musical and poetic talent, life still has its challenges and difficulties to overcome. We can either accept those challenges and beat them – having the courage to choose life or we can be undone by them, dragged down and just wait around to die.

In the last few weeks I have had close friends and family be diagnosed with cancer, undergo serious surgery, have loved ones involved in serious car accidents and then of course there are many who struggle with everyday life – with depression, with unemployment, with unhappy marriages, with stressful jobs and so on. Life can be a bitch – and some of it is of our own making, which makes it all the more painful, ironic and frustrating.

Pessimists rejoice of course in this aspect of the human condition. The American journalist George F. Will who currently writes for the Washington Post wrote in his book “The Leveling Wind”: “The nice part about being a pessimist is that you are constantly being either proven right or pleasantly surprised.”

I, however, am delighted to be proven wrong and unpleasantly disappointed – for I am an optimist. A fully paid-up member of the club and an advocate to boot.

Why do I choose optimism? Because it provides me with the courage to live my life as fully as I can. Without optimism, I am sorely afraid that I would end up waiting around to die – and that would be a waste of my time, the time of others and frankly a waste of a good opportunity.

Being a greedy person generally, I want to get the most I can from life – especially as it is finite and quite possible shorter than one might imagine or hope. Although my natural optimism wars with my other tendencies of idealism and pragmatism – I tend to settle on a biblical target of three score years and ten – with any upside representing a profit margin I am willing to declare to the Good Lord on the day of reckoning. And if I do live longer than that – just another thirty years before break-even– then I will certainly owe some taxes on my extra profited years.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines optimism as having "hopefulness and confidence about the future or successful outcome of something; a tendency to take a favourable or hopeful view."

I tend to take that view about my life. I think that most things will turn out well or very well – but I accept that some won’t. I believe that on balance, if I stay positive, I will enjoy life more than if I let it get me down. And when I am down or have the devil in me (see: http://osapp.blogspot.com/2009/06/devil-inside.html ) it doesn’t last long if I focus on the positive things ahead.

I’ve always subscribed to the philosophy that it is better to regret something you have done, than something you haven’t done. The only time I modify that philosophy is when my actions might directly impact other people negatively – and then I weigh things up a little more carefully.

Don’t worry – I’m not about to get myself an orange dress, a dumb haircut and start chanting Hare Krishna – nor am I shaking my rattle in the church hall singing “Kumbaya”.

I am talking about a faith in life that overrides my fear of life. For all of us have fears – and the most deep rooted ones are about our own existence. Mortality, identity, security, vulnerability, vanity and so on.

I know I’m going to die. I’m not awfully keen about doing it anytime soon – but then it may not be entirely up to me.

I know who I am – more or less – and find as I grow older (and hopefully just a little wiser as opposed to just wider) that I am more and more comfortable with who I am. Good and bad. (Next step is to balance better once confident in the knowledge of both aspects)

I do not fear for my security over much – thankfully I live in places where generally I don’t need to. I do appreciate that for others this is not so easy.

I do not worry about my vulnerability as I seem to be able to bounce back from most things whether disease, physical injury, psychological or emotional trauma and so on – and I think a good deal of my ability to do is because of my optimism (with just a sprinkling of idealism).

As for vanity – it is closely linked to one’s ego. We all have one – the trick is to try and keep it in check as much as possible, but never to try and deny its existence. I don’t worry about my bald patch, my rather too large belly is a health concern more than a question of vanity and my looks are the ones I was blessed or cursed with and I don’t believe in plastic surgery other than for medical reasons – so that is that.

Of course – as I inferred in the part about security – I have life pretty damn good. I enjoy moderately good health – despite my very insistent efforts to compromise it – with some help from my employers and my clients. I am comparatively wealthy and enjoy a high standard of living. I live in peaceful, crime free environment. I come from a stable, conventional family. I am well educated and I work in a professional and broadly safe environment. So what’s not to be optimistic about?

If I was a starving child exposed to chronic diseases in Sub Saharan Africa? If I was a Palestinian living in Gaza or one of the refugee camps? If I had been born blind, deaf, paralysed, or with a fatal disease? If I had cancer? Would I still be as glib about optimism providing the courage to live life?

I would like to think that I would. I believe that no matter what disaster befalls us, whether at birth, by circumstance or by design – optimism is the difference between defeat and victory in terms of dealing with that challenge.

Faith – whether in God or good fortune – surely is a means to find resources from within oneself (or from others) and either overcome the problem one faces or simply learn to live with it ?

When my finger-tip was amputated recently, I was pragmatic and optimistic. My friends and loved ones were alternately shocked, sympathetic and even empathetic – many sad for me about my loss. I failed to understand this. Sure – it was painful, annoying and a bummer – but it was just a finger-tip. It could have been much worse. To me it was just one of those things. I gave thanks I hadn’t lost an eye or my hearing. I was pleased it was just the tip and not the whole finger – but generally it was just “one of those things”. Shit happens.

A few weeks afterwards I got very depressed about it. Not because my hands were no longer beautiful (that was compensated by the automatic 10% discount on manicures . . .) – but because it was going to very seriously affect one of my great loves in life. Playing the guitar. You kind of need all your finger tips to play guitar.

I’d looked up Tony Iommi and Django Reinhardt – two great guitarists of rather different genres. One was the founding father of heavy metal and the other a gypsy jazz legend. Both had serious finger injuries – Iommi losing two finger tips in an industrial accident and Django being burned in a fire which badly damaged his third and fourth fingers. I was buoyed by their stories and decided this wouldn’t be a problem. Until I tried to play.

At first my finger was very swollen and still very painful so playing was impossible anyway – but after the swelling went down I realized that I really couldn’t play half the songs anymore – including ones I had written myself. I was really devastated. Furious with myself that one passion (motorcycling) had cost me another (guitar playing). Sad that I would lose the comfort and joy that playing music brings me.

I mooched and moaned for weeks, feeling ever more grey and down about the whole thing. Wishing I could undo things. Until after a while I stopped and thought of two things. One is to do with relativism as a coping mechanism – the other is the power of lateral and optimistic thought.

Relativism helped me to contextualize my problem – I didn’t lose my arm. Or even my hand. OR even a whole finger. I lost a tip. If it had been worse then guitar would have certainly been off the menu forever - along with my new found interest of teaching myself piano. BUT, it wasn’t worse – therefore I was lucky and not unlucky. I had hope.

The lateral optimistic thinking went like this. I can’t play guitar like I used to. Can’t play the chords or scales that I used to. So I will learn to play guitar differently, will learn new chords and use different tunings to make my own sound. And that will be even better than before because it will expand my musical vocabulary. And so that is what I did.

Since my finger amputation, I have written and recorded three new songs, played a live gig in LA and learned new techniques using slide guitar, open tuning and using my little finger instead of the damaged third. I have to have another amputation on the third finger to take it down to the knuckle and it doesn’t bother me – because I have found some optimism in this small misfortune.

Now I didn’t watch my sister get blown to pieces on a land mine, or watch my family be blown up in our home, or see my whole village die of starvation or disease – so again one needs to frame the discussion within the context to which it might relate.

But even the orphaned child, the disease ridden villager, the widowed soldier’s wife have the choice of hope, and the relativism of “it could have been worse” – no matter how awful the trauma was. There is always the choice of life – and I would always advocate making that choice – and using optimism as the courage to do so. There is always the possibility of things getting better – and if we believe that, we can increase those chances to probability from possibility.

Two members of my family have committed suicide, another has tried. I wish the two had chosen life and had the courage to do so in the face of their pain, tragedy and loss. And I am glad the third ultimately did – as it would have been a wasted opportunity to live, to enjoy, to succeed, to laugh, to cry and to fail.

If we can fail, then by definition we can succeed. If we can die, then by definition we can live.

Just takes a little courage sometimes and seeing life from someplace else, if it doesn’t make sense from where you’re sitting.

This piece is “αφιερωμένο” to E.K. – thanks for the idea.