Wednesday, March 26, 2008

I still don't want your d*mned pity

I think, and I'm not 100% sure, that I was the subject of someone's pity. I hope I am wrong. Though the more I think of it the madder I get. Luckily, if my theory is correct, it has blown back into the pitier's face. And that gives my little sadistic self, joy.
The reason for the anger, is the problem with pity (as opposed to compassion), in that you just see the problem and not the person. Yes, I'm imperfect in many ways, some that I readily acknowledge, but many of those imperfections are not really worth pity. I just find it insulting that I'm defined by my problems and imperfections. Another problem is I believe I'm everyone's equal. Well, in general. Yes, there are people better than me when it comes to math, science, theology, etc, however when it comes to my worth as a person, I believe I'm your equal, and by the same token you are mine. Pity, to me seems to mess with that notion of equality.
But I'm not innocent. I have pitied. I pity because it is cheaper and faster than compassion.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

I don't want your pity

I've been thinking about the difference between pity and compassion lately. I first heard of the difference with the Acton Institute lecture. Then something else got me thinking about the diff recently. Sleepy now so more later.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

The need for humility

I received some praise recently and I felt myself wince at it.
I like praise, but more accurately, I like feedback. Constructive criticism and pointing out what was done right. I get a thrill when something I've done has done someone else good and that someone tells me about it. I like to know when I've best served my fellow man. I find it helpful when someone points out something I've done, that could be done better without wandering away from my main goal. However inflated praise, I'm not too keen on, it screws up with my attempts to be humble at times. So I wince.
Please do not mistake humility for low self esteem. I'm a child of G-d, nuff said.
The reason for this posting is a slight annoyance with persons who in their roles as experts and people in positions of leadership/other who do not approach/serve others with humility.

Sunday, March 02, 2008

For me, and maybe others, dreams are not like movies. I'm not simply observing a random mess of events. No. In these dreams I already have back story, there are symbols that I , as a participant can interpret, and I feel. There can be feelings of love, loss, burning hate, deathly fear, and crankiness. If strong enough the feelings can linger into the waking moments or be the reason for the waking.
So last night I had a dream of betrayal and humiliation. Oh, that sounds so soap opry. Well it featured a Bollywood actor, and goodness knows Bollywood is not the bastion of deep cin-nee-ma. There was a Bollywood movie I saw once where apparently all the white people in England died out as the buildings were pretty much British as was the school style, and three men, waaaay older than their characters played young men at a school. One actor, playing the cool leather jacket wearing guy, wore some serious cake make-up. Anyway, a similar character in the dream, with the make-up. Really, the make up was its own character. In the Bollywood movie I remember the actor from, he has one of the more steamier and more modern dance numbers. Whereas there is traditional dance (all edited together representing what I don't know) for another female character who is part of another couple. See lotta back story, which makes explaining dreams not worth it.
I can sum up the dream better, than explaining it. Don't trust actors. Or maybe dancers? Dance played a part in dealing with the betrayal, that and backleading. I let the Bollywood guy lead and in dancing the lead is supposed to look out and take care of the follow so she, will follow. The lead in this case did something that violated my trust as a follow, and upon realizing my trust was misplaced I took the only control I could and back-lead to save as much face as I could.
What lingered in the waking hours was white hot pain of a feeling of a trust violated. I haven't felt that lately in real life, thank goodness. But it was so strong that I'm fired up to prevent ever being in that position. And maybe I need to rent that stupid film again.