I think I'll go stab myself repeatedly with a butter knife now.
Lately I've become hyperaware of how inadequate I feel. Not particularly brilliant, talented, hardworking, ambitious, creative, unique, well-read, well-traveled... I even feel bad for having boring, overdone neuroses and for not being all better already.
Comparisons are hell. Competition is hell.
If I compared myself to my sensei in any way, I might as well just blink out of existence right now. It is a much better idea to learn from him, because he somehow manages to impress on me that I'm worthwhile and nifty. I suspect I could feel inadequate about that too - why can't *I* be that kind, gentle, and insightful? Eh, he's just a gift from the Universe, to the Universe.
But one thing he's not is *me*. He can't have my point of view, my flavor of interaction, the wisdom from the lessons I've learned at a cost only I could pay.
One of the many problems with this idealization of the "perfect person" is that commodified, imitable traits become a rigidly restricted lexicon of human potential. In acquiring and advancing in these prescribed areas of excellence, competitors deprioritize and may not even know that they are missing other opportunities for learning, growth, service, fulfillment, etc.
Another is that the ideal is not achievable, at least not consistently. Struggling to maintain the illusion of achieving it becomes the norm. It often involves cheating, self-medicating, and other activities destructive to self, loved ones, and society.
Another is that the ideal is wholly unnecessary except for one purpose: it fills the pockets of some pretty big industries. Otherwise, what does it produce? For every great and influential figure it may produce, it produces so many more cheats, burnouts, and miserable cusses. Most of the greatness is nothing more than an expensive and damaging light-show anyway.
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Date: 2007-04-01 05:43 am (UTC)Lately I've become hyperaware of how inadequate I feel. Not particularly brilliant, talented, hardworking, ambitious, creative, unique, well-read, well-traveled... I even feel bad for having boring, overdone neuroses and for not being all better already.
Comparisons are hell. Competition is hell.
If I compared myself to my sensei in any way, I might as well just blink out of existence right now. It is a much better idea to learn from him, because he somehow manages to impress on me that I'm worthwhile and nifty. I suspect I could feel inadequate about that too - why can't *I* be that kind, gentle, and insightful? Eh, he's just a gift from the Universe, to the Universe.
But one thing he's not is *me*. He can't have my point of view, my flavor of interaction, the wisdom from the lessons I've learned at a cost only I could pay.
One of the many problems with this idealization of the "perfect person" is that commodified, imitable traits become a rigidly restricted lexicon of human potential. In acquiring and advancing in these prescribed areas of excellence, competitors deprioritize and may not even know that they are missing other opportunities for learning, growth, service, fulfillment, etc.
Another is that the ideal is not achievable, at least not consistently. Struggling to maintain the illusion of achieving it becomes the norm. It often involves cheating, self-medicating, and other activities destructive to self, loved ones, and society.
Another is that the ideal is wholly unnecessary except for one purpose: it fills the pockets of some pretty big industries. Otherwise, what does it produce? For every great and influential figure it may produce, it produces so many more cheats, burnouts, and miserable cusses. Most of the greatness is nothing more than an expensive and damaging light-show anyway.