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“Doormat weakness”

Whoa, I don’t want to engage that environment. and are massive strengths an…
Humility  kindness  from twitter_favs
2 days ago by dtomoff
The Book of Life -- Can People Change?
'...Why might change be so hard? It isn’t as if the change-resistant person is merely unsure what is amiss, and will manage to alter course once an issue is pointed out – as someone might if their attention were drawn to a strand of spinach in their teeth. The refusal to change is more tenacious and willed than this. A person’s entire character may be structured around an active aspiration not to know or feel particular things; the possibility of insight will be aggressively warded off through drink, compulsive work routines, or offended irritation with all those who attempt to spark it. -- In other words, the unchanging person doesn’t only lack knowledge, they are vigorously committed to not acquiring it. And they resist it because they are fleeing from something extraordinarily painful in their past that they were originally too weak or helpless to face – and still haven’t found the wherewithal to confront. One isn’t so much dealing with an unchanging person as, first and foremost, with a traumatised one. -- Part of the problem, when one is on the outside, is realising what one is up against. The lack of change can seem so frustrating because one can’t apprehend why it should be so hard. Couldn’t they simply move an inch or two in the right direction? But if we considered, at that moment, the full scale of what this person once faced, and the conditions in which their mind was formed (and certain of its doors bolted shut), we might be more realistic and more compassionate. ‘Couldn’t they just…’ would not longer quite make sense. -- At the same time, very importantly, we might not stick around as long as we often do. We should at this juncture perhaps ask ourselves a question that may feel at once unfair and rather tough: given how clear the evidence is of a lack of change in a certain person, and hence of a lack of realistic hope that our needs are going to be met any time soon, why are we still here? Why are we trying to open a door that can’t open and returning to a recurring frustration and hoping for a different result? What broken part of us can’t leave a lack of fulfilment alone? What bit of our story is being re-enacted in a drama of continuously dashed hopes? -- And, if we are talking of change, might we one day change into characters who don’t sit around waiting without end for other people to change? Might we become better at sifting through options and allowing through only those who can already meet the lion’s share of our needs? In addition, might we become better at deploying a dash of life-sustaining ruthlessness in order to leave those who tirelessly rebuff us? We may need to rebuild our minds in order – with time – to change into people who don’t wonder for too long if, and when, people might change.'
philosophy  psychology  humility  loss  sorrow 
2 days ago by adamcrowe
Twitter
RT : Falling in love with yourself eliminates all competition ~ Peer Sahib

ego  humility  from twitter
12 days ago by JINHONG
YouTube -- [Alain de Botton]: A Reason Not to Worry What Others Think
'We spend a little too much time worrying about how we must appear in the minds of others. However, the poignant, useful truth is that almost everyone doesn't care at all about who we are, what we're doing and how we've messed up.' -- To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten. ~ Samuel Beckett
philosophy  humility  unwarrantedselfimportance 
5 weeks ago by adamcrowe
The Book of Life -- On Apologising to Your Child
'There few things more appalling for the parent of a grown-up child than the realisation of just how much one has, over the years, deeply hurt the person one most loves in the world – and has done so out of nothing more noble than stress, self-absorption and profound stupidity. To compound the agony, children are not – by nature – inclined to extend time or complex sympathy towards their flawed parents; they need them to have been there at the start, and to have been sane, kind and gentle and can’t be expected to search too deeply for reasons why they weren’t. It is normal to move on, take the hurt elsewhere and bristle at any cack handed parental attempts at reconciliation. -- Still, you may not be able to leave at that. Something inside you may crave a chance to speak at greater length: ...'
philosophy  humility  parenting 
7 weeks ago by adamcrowe
The Book of Life -- How to Screw Up at Work
'...."What I’m going to take away from this incident is three things in particular. Firstly,…, secondly…, thirdly…" -- Companies never set out replace people; they want to develop the ones they have – and so what they crave is a hopeful narrative of why they should keep faith with those already in their posts. That means, in essence, that they long for employees to show what exactly they have learnt from each of their mistakes.'
philosophy  failure  humility 
7 weeks ago by adamcrowe
The Book of Life -- Expectations - and the 80/20 Rule
'...Such is the true applicability of the Pareto principle. Far from being a recipe for gloom, heeding to it will guarantee that we will not so regularly collide with one of the sharp edges of reality. Of course, our work is for the most part wrong; of course our love lives are unhappy; naturally most of the sex we’ve had has been regrettable, inevitably most people are a waste of our time. Demagogues, advertisers and pedlars of sentimental bromides will constantly urge us to hold out for more – or incite us to get furious that we haven’t yet been given it. We should turn away from their aggravating counsel. We have not been singled out for unusual punishment; our lives are following a course that can be observed as much in the operations of a widget factory as in the fertility of plants or the profitability of nations. We need not question our relationships, our employments or our membership of the species. Most of it is no good – and that is exactly as it should be. -- But this disgusting truth, once digested, only makes the rare 20% all the more worthy of reverence: those few friends who do open up properly, those occasional nights when it works out, those family members who are undefended and interesting, those days when we feel strong and purposeful. These aren’t anything like the norm, and nor were they ever meant to be. They are the succulent morsels of the otherwise ineluctably thin harvest we must subsist on – and therefore the bits that we must treasure and draw hope from before darkness returns.'
philosophy  pessimism  humility 
7 weeks ago by adamcrowe
[Essay] | Faustian Economics, by Wendell Berry | Harper's Magazine
"The general reaction to the apparent end of the era of cheap fossil fuel, as to other readily foreseeable curtailments, has been to delay any sort of reckoning. The strategies of delay, so far, have been a sort of willed oblivion, or visions of large profits to the manufacturers of such “biofuels” as ethanol from corn or switchgrass, or the familiar unscientific faith that “science will find an answer.” The dominant response, in short, is a dogged belief that what we call the American Way of Life will prove somehow indestructible. We will keep on consuming, spending, wasting, and driving, as before, at any cost to anything and everybody but ourselves.

This belief was always indefensible — the real names of global warming are Waste and Greed — and by now it is manifestly foolish. But foolishness on this scale looks disturbingly like a sort of national insanity. We seem to have come to a collective delusion of grandeur, insisting that all of us are “free” to be as conspicuously greedy and wasteful as the most corrupt of kings and queens. (Perhaps by devoting more and more of our already abused cropland to fuel production we will at last cure ourselves of obesity and become fashionably skeletal, hungry but — thank God! — still driving.)"



"The normalization of the doctrine of limitlessness has produced a sort of moral minimalism: the desire to be efficient at any cost, to be unencumbered by complexity. The minimization of neighborliness, respect, reverence, responsibility, accountability, and self-subordination — this is the culture of which our present leaders and heroes are the spoiled children.

Our national faith so far has been: “There’s always more.” Our true religion is a sort of autistic industrialism. People of intelligence and ability seem now to be genuinely embarrassed by any solution to any problem that does not involve high technology, a great expenditure of energy, or a big machine. Thus an X marked on a paper ballot no longer fulfills our idea of voting. One problem with this state of affairs is that the work now most needing to be done — that of neighborliness and caretaking — cannot be done by remote control with the greatest power on the largest scale. A second problem is that the economic fantasy of limitlessness in a limited world calls fearfully into question the value of our monetary wealth, which does not reliably stand for the real wealth of land, resources, and workmanship but instead wastes and depletes it.

That human limitlessness is a fantasy means, obviously, that its life expectancy is limited. There is now a growing perception, and not just among a few experts, that we are entering a time of inescapable limits. We are not likely to be granted another world to plunder in compensation for our pillage of this one. Nor are we likely to believe much longer in our ability to outsmart, by means of science and technology, our economic stupidity. The hope that we can cure the ills of industrialism by the homeopathy of more technology seems at last to be losing status. We are, in short, coming under pressure to understand ourselves as limited creatures in a limited world.

This constraint, however, is not the condemnation it may seem. On the contrary, it returns us to our real condition and to our human heritage, from which our self-definition as limitless animals has for too long cut us off. Every cultural and religious tradition that I know about, while fully acknowledging our animal nature, defines us specifically as humans — that is, as animals (if the word still applies) capable of living not only within natural limits but also within cultural limits, self-imposed. As earthly creatures, we live, because we must, within natural limits, which we may describe by such names as “earth” or “ecosystem” or “watershed” or “place.” But as humans, we may elect to respond to this necessary placement by the self-restraints implied in neighborliness, stewardship, thrift, temperance, generosity, care, kindness, friendship, loyalty, and love.

In our limitless selfishness, we have tried to define “freedom,” for example, as an escape from all restraint. But, as my friend Bert Hornback has explained in his book The Wisdom in Words, “free” is etymologically related to “friend.” These words come from the same Indo-European root, which carries the sense of “dear” or “beloved.” We set our friends free by our love for them, with the implied restraints of faithfulness or loyalty. And this suggests that our “identity” is located not in the impulse of selfhood but in deliberately maintained connections."



"And so our cultural tradition is in large part the record of our continuing effort to understand ourselves as beings specifically human: to say that, as humans, we must do certain things and we must not do certain things. We must have limits or we will cease to exist as humans; perhaps we will cease to exist, period. At times, for example, some of us humans have thought that human beings, properly so called, did not make war against civilian populations, or hold prisoners without a fair trial, or use torture for any reason.

Some of us would-be humans have thought too that we should not be free at anybody else’s expense. And yet in the phrase “free market,” the word “free” has come to mean unlimited economic power for some, with the necessary consequence of economic powerlessness for others. Several years ago, after I had spoken at a meeting, two earnest and obviously troubled young veterinarians approached me with a question: How could they practice veterinary medicine without serious economic damage to the farmers who were their clients? Underlying their question was the fact that for a long time veterinary help for a sheep or a pig has been likely to cost more than the animal is worth. I had to answer that, in my opinion, so long as their practice relied heavily on selling patented drugs, they had no choice, since the market for medicinal drugs was entirely controlled by the drug companies, whereas most farmers had no control at all over the market for agricultural products. My questioners were asking in effect if a predatory economy can have a beneficent result. The answer too often is No. And that is because there is an absolute discontinuity between the economy of the seller of medicines and the economy of the buyer, as there is in the health industry as a whole. The drug industry is interested in the survival of patients, we have to suppose, because surviving patients will continue to consume drugs.

Now let us consider a contrary example. Recently, at another meeting, I talked for some time with an elderly, and some would say an old-fashioned, farmer from Nebraska. Unable to farm any longer himself, he had rented his land to a younger farmer on the basis of what he called “crop share” instead of a price paid or owed in advance. Thus, as the old farmer said of his renter, “If he has a good year, I have a good year. If he has a bad year, I have a bad one.” This is what I would call community economics. It is a sharing of fate. It assures an economic continuity and a common interest between the two partners to the trade. This is as far as possible from the economy in which the young veterinarians were caught, in which the powerful are limitlessly “free” to trade, to the disadvantage, and ultimately the ruin, of the powerless.

It is this economy of community destruction that, wittingly or unwittingly, most scientists and technicians have served for the past two hundred years. These scientists and technicians have justified themselves by the proposition that they are the vanguard of progress, enlarging human knowledge and power, and thus they have romanticized both themselves and the predatory enterprises that they have served."



"If the idea of appropriate limitation seems unacceptable to us, that may be because, like Marlowe’s Faustus and Milton’s Satan, we confuse limits with confinement. But that, as I think Marlowe and Milton and others were trying to tell us, is a great and potentially a fatal mistake. Satan’s fault, as Milton understood it and perhaps with some sympathy, was precisely that he could not tolerate his proper limitation; he could not subordinate himself to anything whatever. Faustus’s error was his unwillingness to remain “Faustus, and a man.” In our age of the world it is not rare to find writers, critics, and teachers of literature, as well as scientists and technicians, who regard Satan’s and Faustus’s defiance as salutary and heroic.

On the contrary, our human and earthly limits, properly understood, are not confinements but rather inducements to formal elaboration and elegance, to fullness of relationship and meaning. Perhaps our most serious cultural loss in recent centuries is the knowledge that some things, though limited, are inexhaustible. For example, an ecosystem, even that of a working forest or farm, so long as it remains ecologically intact, is inexhaustible. A small place, as I know from my own experience, can provide opportunities of work and learning, and a fund of beauty, solace, and pleasure — in addition to its difficulties — that cannot be exhausted in a lifetime or in generations.

To recover from our disease of limitlessness, we will have to give up the idea that we have a right to be godlike animals, that we are potentially omniscient and omnipotent, ready to discover “the secret of the universe.” We will have to start over, with a different and much older premise: the naturalness and, for creatures of limited intelligence, the necessity, of limits. We must learn again to ask how we can make the most of what we are, what we have, what we have been given. If we always have a theoretically better substitute available from somebody or someplace else, we will never make the most of anything. It is hard to make the most of one life. If we each had two lives, we would not make much of either. Or … [more]
wendellberry  2008  economics  science  technology  art  limits  limitlessness  arts  ecosystems  limitations  local  humanism  humanity  humility  community  communities  knowledge  power  expansion  growth  interdependence  greed  neighborliness  stewardship  thrift  temperance  christianity  generosity  care  kindness  friendship  loyalty  love  self-restraint  restraint  watershed  land  caring  caretaking  morality  accountability  responsibility  respect  reverence  corruption  capitalism  technosolutionism  fossilfuels  waste 
10 weeks ago by robertogreco
The Book of Life -- The Definition of Love
'#Imagination: To love with imagination is to look beneath the surface – where there may be rage, cynicism, brittleness or transgression – and to picture the suffering and pain that got a person to this place. To love with imagination is to fill in the better reasons why others are behaving as they do. Imaginative love knows that we are all, somewhere, desperate: it seeks out that desperation and treats it with sorrowful gentleness.' -- Only the wounded healer heals. ~ Carl Jung
philosophy  humility  love  Buber  Jung 
12 weeks ago by adamcrowe
Glorious Humility - Wesley Hill (First Things)
But Williams insists on the converse movement too: We should be
equally ready to have our understanding of divine “glory” upended by
Jesus’s meekness and self-giving. Williams points, for example, to St.
Paul’s vision of the risen Christ on the road to Damascus. Jesus
appeared in a blaze of light with a voice like thunder, but contrary
to what Paul may have expected (did he imagine he was about to suffer
a bolt of divine fury, as when God struck Uzzah dead for daring to
touch the ark of the covenant?), Jesus speaks to underscore his
solidarity with the suffering: “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”
(Acts 9:4). Williams says of this scene that Jesus “has not removed
himself from the memory of suffering, now that his glorious
resurrection body is beyond pain and death.” Put simply: “The
resurrection undoes nothing of what Jesus has been up to his death;
instead, the resurrection confirms the life of Jesus as the way of God
in the world.”
...
It’s not as though “glory” is a term we all understand and all that’s
left to do is see how Jesus fits himself to its contours, rewriting
our understanding of “humility” in the process. Rather, it’s the
reverse: We look to Jesus—above all, to his self-giving in life and
death—and find our notions of “glory” and “power” transformed
completely. (As a colleague of mine likes to tell our seminarians, if
you think you know in advance what Jesus’s second coming is going to
look like, prepare to be as scandalized as the scribes and Pharisees
were at his first coming.)
FT  Glory  Humility  SecondComing  SaulSaul 
april 2019 by mgubbins
Intellectually humble people tend to possess more knowledge, study finds
Rubbishy article and/or study.
Appeals to the "humble bookish intellectual" archetype but it really more about so-called "growth mindset" in appreciating that knowledge isn't fixed and in many cases can be fallible.
knowledge  humility  cognition  epistemology  psychology  research  science  academics 
april 2019 by po
The Book of Life -- What Can Stop the Loneliness?
'...To summarise, the good friend has been humbled, they’ve given up pride, they’ve messed up – and they’ve drawn all the right conclusions from their troubles: that the only thing that counts is kindness. That’s why they’re going to be so patient with you, that’s why they’ll understand all the things you worry about and that you regret, that’s why they’ll be on hand with compassion, gentleness and plenty of rich dark laughter. An ideal group of friends is unlikely to have obvious prestige: they might include ex-convicts, junkies and those who’ve had tumultuous private lives, people who may think that they have little left to contribute, that their slips and misdeeds have placed them far outside of useful society but who – unexpectedly, by virtue of their histories – are world champions at the art of friendship and non-judgemental generosity. Of course everyone tries to be nice from the start (or at least most of us do). But only those among us who’ve properly suffered truly are nice. If one meets with just one or two such people in a lifetime, one will have been properly blessed.'
psychology  friendship  humility  vulnerability  authenticity 
march 2019 by adamcrowe
Focus | Three things I wish I knew the day I became a Cabinet minister
March 27, 2019 | The Nassau Guardian | • Zhivargo Laing is a Bahamian economic consultant and former Cabinet minister who represented the Marco City constituency in the House of Assembly.
Bahamas  Caribbean  humility  lessons_learned  politicians  think_threes 
march 2019 by jerryking

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