Seeing is believing. Believing is seeing.
You know the idea of proof? The concept that in order to fully buy into a thing, a person or a feeling, you'd have to find some way to substantiate its very existence? These past few weeks have shown me that, in fact, needing proof -- alongside being realistic -- are perhaps the two biggest roadblocks to creativity and self-contentment. I know it sounds a little far-fetched, naive even, but two very important concepts came to my attention recently that made this revelation clear: the balance between knowledge and creativity and the balance between inner and outer validation.
Seeing is believing.
The saying refers to the idea that one must be doubtful of a claim until there is some form of tangible, visual, or audio validation that it is, in fact, true. We can't trust that it's raining until we step outside and feel it on our eyelids or hear the pitter patter on our rooftops; the weatherman never knows what he's talking about. She can't possibly be pregnant unless we see it with our own two eyes; anything otherwise is heresay. And we can't know that we're making the right decisions unless we are reassured enough or have seen people succeed traveling down the same path.
But even that's not a guarantee.
That's the past. That's history. Doing things in a conventional way won't bring us new, innovative results; that's just illogical. Doing things in a conventional way does, however, serve as a way to reaffirm what we already knew would happen; that's knowledge. When we speak of someone who is very knowledgeable, we're usually referring to his or her stash of facts, his or her ability to recite proven facts. And while knowledge is something undeniably necessary in becoming a better (insert noun here), it shouldn't be the only thing. It's a foundation, not the whole creation.
That's where creativity steps in. When we have a solid grasp of the past (knowledge), only then are we able to reinvent and push boundaries and really learn. We learn by mistakes, by chances and by blind faith. Seeing shouldn't be necessary to believe.
Believing is seeing.
Rearrange the phrase and you would, upon initial glance, just get an alternate reading of the same concept. But look again. Believing is seeing. Once we begin to trust our own creativity and believe in our visions, sans precursors or safety nets, we start to really open up and see. Having faith in our own abilities is what makes for the best results. Were we to constantly worry about what other people thought of our progress or, heaven forbid, us, then we would be too afraid to try different things.
Inner validation is about trust. It's about having a solid basis of knowledge and from that, constructing a creation that hasn't been attempted before despite whether or not it garners others' approval. That's what sets those who love life and carve their own paths apart from those who mildly enjoy the pre-trodden roads -- neither is a bad place to be, but wouldn't it be better to be in a great place?
Faith > Fear
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
13 March 2010
28 October 2008
The Perfect Time of Day
I write best when I really shouldn't be. At present, I'm mulling over what to write about for the light feature I have due in my journalism feature writing class tomorrow afternoon. With all the things that have been going on in life, you'd think that I'd be able to pull something together to write a semi-decent piece, but I can't focus because of the nagging deadlines inching toward the forefront of my thoughts.
There's the Bamboo Offshoot issue that needs to go to print within the next few hours, but which likely won't be put to bed until later on this week. Procrastination is a bizzle and I find myself really frustrated at my own inability to finish the task at hand. The problem was a breakdown in communication, the failure on my part to keep my writers, photographers and editors in check. I have a problem with delegating work, this much I admit, but this is ridiculous - our first issue of the school year, late to print. The quality of the product might be better, but at the cost of timeliness - eeps.
It's frustrating because I know that the publication has so much potential - the momentum of getting the ball rolling just keeps getting stopped with one road block after another and it worries me that the same issues keep coming up for each...issue. I told myself at the beginning of the year that this would be one of my priorities for the upcoming school year, but as it stands, I think I've put so much effort into this venture that it's affected everything else.
We're in a transitioning phase wherein we're moving out from under the protection of the Asian Pacific American Student Services and into becoming our own student organization. As a result, we need to fund ourselves through ad sales and grants and USG funding. Our funding proposal was rejected about a month ago on the grounds that the board didn't see how Bamboo would "contribute to the betterment of the USC campus."
They didn't see how USC's ONLY Asian Pacific American publication would benefit the campus.
They didn't understand that, with 25% of the campus being APA, it might be necessary to have a sounding board and resource for students who have no voice otherwise.
They didn't feel that issues unique to APAs are worth funding, but parties and concerts that have little real benefit to the campus are.
Seriously?
One of my friends told me to write about passion. What it means to be truly passionate about something and sacrifice sleep, time and money for something that might not initially seem worth it. This just might be it, because - not gonna lie - at this time of day, with deadline encroaching upon my other schoolwork and job applications, it's hard to be focused on that end goal of spreading APA awareness.
Right now, all I want to do is sleep. Is that so much to ask?
...sooooo emo. haha.
There's the Bamboo Offshoot issue that needs to go to print within the next few hours, but which likely won't be put to bed until later on this week. Procrastination is a bizzle and I find myself really frustrated at my own inability to finish the task at hand. The problem was a breakdown in communication, the failure on my part to keep my writers, photographers and editors in check. I have a problem with delegating work, this much I admit, but this is ridiculous - our first issue of the school year, late to print. The quality of the product might be better, but at the cost of timeliness - eeps.
It's frustrating because I know that the publication has so much potential - the momentum of getting the ball rolling just keeps getting stopped with one road block after another and it worries me that the same issues keep coming up for each...issue. I told myself at the beginning of the year that this would be one of my priorities for the upcoming school year, but as it stands, I think I've put so much effort into this venture that it's affected everything else.
We're in a transitioning phase wherein we're moving out from under the protection of the Asian Pacific American Student Services and into becoming our own student organization. As a result, we need to fund ourselves through ad sales and grants and USG funding. Our funding proposal was rejected about a month ago on the grounds that the board didn't see how Bamboo would "contribute to the betterment of the USC campus."
They didn't see how USC's ONLY Asian Pacific American publication would benefit the campus.
They didn't understand that, with 25% of the campus being APA, it might be necessary to have a sounding board and resource for students who have no voice otherwise.
They didn't feel that issues unique to APAs are worth funding, but parties and concerts that have little real benefit to the campus are.
Seriously?
One of my friends told me to write about passion. What it means to be truly passionate about something and sacrifice sleep, time and money for something that might not initially seem worth it. This just might be it, because - not gonna lie - at this time of day, with deadline encroaching upon my other schoolwork and job applications, it's hard to be focused on that end goal of spreading APA awareness.
Right now, all I want to do is sleep. Is that so much to ask?
...sooooo emo. haha.
31 August 2008
Up and Out
I'm going to really miss eating alone. The loneliness that I felt at the beginning of summer in the my first few days of moving to Westwood have come around full circle, and now I find myself really longing for more of the solitude and familiar routine that has reigned over these past few months.
One of my worst, more irrational, fears when I was younger was of eating alone. There are too many negative stereotypes about people who dine in public alone - either they are social outcasts or they are somehow incapable of carrying out normal tableside conversation. Or they have some sort of gross deformity that repels even the most understanding of dining buddies.
None of these are really true, though, because people who are able to venture out and eat on their own in public have to be pretty dang comfortable in their own skin to do so.
Either that, or they have to quickly become comfortable.
Over the summer, every lunch break would be a mental and physical break from hours upon hours of talking, listening, writing, planning – exercising my journalistic prowess, if you will. I’d grab a pen and paper and just write – freeform, stream-of-conscience poems, blurbs, thoughts, stories, as I munched on a wrap or stabbed at some salad.
The first day I did this as a form of security, because I didn’t want to attract sympathy for my dining alone even if I had done it by choice. I wanted to get over this irrational fear of mine. But over the weeks, turning down lunch invitations didn’t feel so bad anymore – I rather looked forward to having a meal by myself and being able to gather my thoughts in an hour away from work, home, or obligations. I felt at ease in my solitude.
Friday was my last day at the Daily News, and I'm really going to miss working there. The features department has become my journalism family, and they've adopted me as one of their own, which is flattering. I'll miss Sandra's advice, Rob's sarcastic quips, Sharyn's blunt observations, even Simone's long, drawn-out stories about interviewing John Cusack and Dave Matthews.
I think that it was honestly very rare and lucky for me to stumble into such a nurturing work environment. My editors came off as cold and calculated in the beginning, but I've since learned that just because they aren't overly, fakely happy to see me all the time doesn't mean that they dislike me. In fact, I really appreciate the way they treat me like a real human being, as opposed to a golden intern spouting hope and naivety. They’re realistic and down-to-earth and so much what I needed to get my head back in the journalistic game.
Their quiet approval and support throughout the summer really helped me to move out of my comfort zone and learn to be more proactive in my quest for the story. If I wanted to cover an event or issue, I had to speak up. If I was unsure of what to do in a given situation, I had to speak up. Nothing came easy, and they intended it to be that way. You get what you give, and sometimes more if you’re lucky.
I got lucky.
I learned as I wrote, and really discovered what I was capable of doing as a journalist and as a writer. Simply being genuinely interested in a person and having good follow-through opened doors in ways that being pushy and condescending probably could not. Understanding and empathy made reporting a joy rather than a burden. Telling stories in intricate new ways was a challenge I loved to meet.
This is what I’m meant to do with the rest of my life, I’m pretty certain.
Well, maybe.
Don’t know how long this certainty will last, though, but I can say this: even in the face of a dying journalism industry, I think there’s still a place at the table for me. I hope there is.
Even if it means dining alone out in the real world, because at least I’ll have my thoughts to keep me company.
One of my worst, more irrational, fears when I was younger was of eating alone. There are too many negative stereotypes about people who dine in public alone - either they are social outcasts or they are somehow incapable of carrying out normal tableside conversation. Or they have some sort of gross deformity that repels even the most understanding of dining buddies.
None of these are really true, though, because people who are able to venture out and eat on their own in public have to be pretty dang comfortable in their own skin to do so.
Either that, or they have to quickly become comfortable.
Over the summer, every lunch break would be a mental and physical break from hours upon hours of talking, listening, writing, planning – exercising my journalistic prowess, if you will. I’d grab a pen and paper and just write – freeform, stream-of-conscience poems, blurbs, thoughts, stories, as I munched on a wrap or stabbed at some salad.
The first day I did this as a form of security, because I didn’t want to attract sympathy for my dining alone even if I had done it by choice. I wanted to get over this irrational fear of mine. But over the weeks, turning down lunch invitations didn’t feel so bad anymore – I rather looked forward to having a meal by myself and being able to gather my thoughts in an hour away from work, home, or obligations. I felt at ease in my solitude.
Friday was my last day at the Daily News, and I'm really going to miss working there. The features department has become my journalism family, and they've adopted me as one of their own, which is flattering. I'll miss Sandra's advice, Rob's sarcastic quips, Sharyn's blunt observations, even Simone's long, drawn-out stories about interviewing John Cusack and Dave Matthews.
I think that it was honestly very rare and lucky for me to stumble into such a nurturing work environment. My editors came off as cold and calculated in the beginning, but I've since learned that just because they aren't overly, fakely happy to see me all the time doesn't mean that they dislike me. In fact, I really appreciate the way they treat me like a real human being, as opposed to a golden intern spouting hope and naivety. They’re realistic and down-to-earth and so much what I needed to get my head back in the journalistic game.
Their quiet approval and support throughout the summer really helped me to move out of my comfort zone and learn to be more proactive in my quest for the story. If I wanted to cover an event or issue, I had to speak up. If I was unsure of what to do in a given situation, I had to speak up. Nothing came easy, and they intended it to be that way. You get what you give, and sometimes more if you’re lucky.
I got lucky.
I learned as I wrote, and really discovered what I was capable of doing as a journalist and as a writer. Simply being genuinely interested in a person and having good follow-through opened doors in ways that being pushy and condescending probably could not. Understanding and empathy made reporting a joy rather than a burden. Telling stories in intricate new ways was a challenge I loved to meet.
This is what I’m meant to do with the rest of my life, I’m pretty certain.
Well, maybe.
Don’t know how long this certainty will last, though, but I can say this: even in the face of a dying journalism industry, I think there’s still a place at the table for me. I hope there is.
Even if it means dining alone out in the real world, because at least I’ll have my thoughts to keep me company.
27 June 2008
The Sum of All Fears
Confession: I have never before felt so lonely in my life.
I am antsy, discontent, tired. I can’t focus on the projects set before me, and I feel as though I am filling my time with useless things in anticipation for something that’ll never come.
I am caught in the middle of too many things, and yet feel as though I’m teetering on the brink of everything, of a very vast something.
I know what my goals are, but can’t bring myself to take steps toward them. Call it self-doubt, call it hesitation, call it self-fulfilled prophecy. Something in me just doesn’t want to reach that end goal, doesn’t want me to feel the thrill of accomplishment.
I’m keeping myself down.
It’s a strange state of mind, I’ll admit. I haven’t felt this uncertain about my own abilities and emotions in a long time, and sometimes I really question just why that is. The only conclusion I’ve been able to come up with is that I am, in very plain terms, growing up.
And I know I’m not the only one.
Loneliness is a curious thing. By definition, it should be a solitary state of mind, something that makes a person feel alone in a crowded street, in the pulse and flow of the world’s heartbeat. But this is far from the case. Lately I feel as though my feeling lonely actually connects me to strangers in a way that feeling content never could – maybe this is the reason why I am drawn to the emotion.
I just started my internship this past week, and am experiencing 40-hour workweeks for the first time in my life. Talk about dynamic workplaces. The office that I sit in every day is filled with staffers and editors constantly scrambling to meet deadlines, rushing to make meetings, tossing memos and comments back and forth about incoming news stories. But the weird thing is that I have never before looked into so many faces and seen loneliness reflected back at me.
Is this a part of growing up that people neglected to tell me about?
In an industry that, on the surface, relies so heavily on human interaction and communication, I find it mind-boggling that so many journalists appear to have built barriers around themselves over the years. They seem jaded, tired, cynical. It worries me that these veteran reporters and writers seem downright miserable doing their job, and look for any excuse not to work. Loneliness seems like a journalistic requirement, on the checklist somewhere between “interviewing skills” and “writing ability.” Maybe I’m being naïve, but at what point did learning and writing and educating become a chore? I know that being a journalist isn’t all fun and games, but should I expect to have my spirit weighed down like theirs sometime in the near future?
Society tells us that with maturity comes independence, but independence isn’t really about freedom; it’s really about the newfound freedom to pick and choose who and what we rely on. It’s strange, because even though people say they want to be free from restrictions, being completely alone is in itself a form of vulnerability, and most of the time, people end up running back toward the safety net of dependency. Independence and dependence are more interwoven than it would initially seem, but at the same time, there’s no real way to consolidate the two – by definition, you can’t be a little bit of each.
The reason I’ve been thinking about this lately is because settling into a new phase of life always leaves me feeling somewhat unsettled (the irony of it all), and I’m finally starting to pinpoint two of the main causes for my uneasy state of mind: fear and need.
Whenever I hop into a new part of my life, I always have to reassess myself before I can fully adjust. A lot of the reflecting I’ve been doing lately ties itself back to fears and needs – my fears in starting this new chapter of my life, my fear of being on my own, my need to feel needed, my fear of failure. What I’ve discovered, though, is that when you get right down to it, fear is nothing more than the result of not living in the now. By this I mean that fears are founded on a person’s inability to take his or her mind off either the past or the future (or both).
And when I look at the situation that way, it seems obvious to me what the remedy is: live for the now. It’s just that simple, and it’s just that difficult.
Living a life governed by fear is confining, and perhaps this is where the barriers and the loneliness come in. I think too many people, myself included, live life tiptoe-ing around their fears. People live their lives day-to-day distracting themselves from the negatives in life – some by drinking themselves into oblivion, others by chasing fleeting, materialistic things, still others by putting off problems. Generally speaking, people don’t like to feel anger, loneliness, depression, fear…the “lows” of life.
It’s easier to find distractions than to take our fears head-on.
Consequently, we become so careful with life that we really just stop living – and because we’ve blocked ourselves from feeling the lows, we can’t really feel the highs either.
We become numb.
And then the true loneliness sets in – better to feel alone and feel something, to find empathy and compassion that way than to feel nothing at all. Being alone is something everyone sympathizes with, because we’ve all been there. It’s a part of growing up, and it’s a state of mind that connects us all, ironically enough.
So when I say that I’ve been feeling lonely lately, I don’t mean that I want to work myself out of this state of mind. What I really mean to say is that I’m glad I’m experiencing a low now, at this point in my life, so that when something great happens, I’ll be able to appreciate that high.
What goes up must come down, but what falls down doesn’t necessary spring back up. It all depends on the foundation you’ve made for yourself and the durability of your character.
I’m hoping I’ll bounce back.
I am antsy, discontent, tired. I can’t focus on the projects set before me, and I feel as though I am filling my time with useless things in anticipation for something that’ll never come.
I am caught in the middle of too many things, and yet feel as though I’m teetering on the brink of everything, of a very vast something.
I know what my goals are, but can’t bring myself to take steps toward them. Call it self-doubt, call it hesitation, call it self-fulfilled prophecy. Something in me just doesn’t want to reach that end goal, doesn’t want me to feel the thrill of accomplishment.
I’m keeping myself down.
It’s a strange state of mind, I’ll admit. I haven’t felt this uncertain about my own abilities and emotions in a long time, and sometimes I really question just why that is. The only conclusion I’ve been able to come up with is that I am, in very plain terms, growing up.
And I know I’m not the only one.
Loneliness is a curious thing. By definition, it should be a solitary state of mind, something that makes a person feel alone in a crowded street, in the pulse and flow of the world’s heartbeat. But this is far from the case. Lately I feel as though my feeling lonely actually connects me to strangers in a way that feeling content never could – maybe this is the reason why I am drawn to the emotion.
I just started my internship this past week, and am experiencing 40-hour workweeks for the first time in my life. Talk about dynamic workplaces. The office that I sit in every day is filled with staffers and editors constantly scrambling to meet deadlines, rushing to make meetings, tossing memos and comments back and forth about incoming news stories. But the weird thing is that I have never before looked into so many faces and seen loneliness reflected back at me.
Is this a part of growing up that people neglected to tell me about?
In an industry that, on the surface, relies so heavily on human interaction and communication, I find it mind-boggling that so many journalists appear to have built barriers around themselves over the years. They seem jaded, tired, cynical. It worries me that these veteran reporters and writers seem downright miserable doing their job, and look for any excuse not to work. Loneliness seems like a journalistic requirement, on the checklist somewhere between “interviewing skills” and “writing ability.” Maybe I’m being naïve, but at what point did learning and writing and educating become a chore? I know that being a journalist isn’t all fun and games, but should I expect to have my spirit weighed down like theirs sometime in the near future?
Society tells us that with maturity comes independence, but independence isn’t really about freedom; it’s really about the newfound freedom to pick and choose who and what we rely on. It’s strange, because even though people say they want to be free from restrictions, being completely alone is in itself a form of vulnerability, and most of the time, people end up running back toward the safety net of dependency. Independence and dependence are more interwoven than it would initially seem, but at the same time, there’s no real way to consolidate the two – by definition, you can’t be a little bit of each.
The reason I’ve been thinking about this lately is because settling into a new phase of life always leaves me feeling somewhat unsettled (the irony of it all), and I’m finally starting to pinpoint two of the main causes for my uneasy state of mind: fear and need.
Whenever I hop into a new part of my life, I always have to reassess myself before I can fully adjust. A lot of the reflecting I’ve been doing lately ties itself back to fears and needs – my fears in starting this new chapter of my life, my fear of being on my own, my need to feel needed, my fear of failure. What I’ve discovered, though, is that when you get right down to it, fear is nothing more than the result of not living in the now. By this I mean that fears are founded on a person’s inability to take his or her mind off either the past or the future (or both).
And when I look at the situation that way, it seems obvious to me what the remedy is: live for the now. It’s just that simple, and it’s just that difficult.
Living a life governed by fear is confining, and perhaps this is where the barriers and the loneliness come in. I think too many people, myself included, live life tiptoe-ing around their fears. People live their lives day-to-day distracting themselves from the negatives in life – some by drinking themselves into oblivion, others by chasing fleeting, materialistic things, still others by putting off problems. Generally speaking, people don’t like to feel anger, loneliness, depression, fear…the “lows” of life.
It’s easier to find distractions than to take our fears head-on.
Consequently, we become so careful with life that we really just stop living – and because we’ve blocked ourselves from feeling the lows, we can’t really feel the highs either.
We become numb.
And then the true loneliness sets in – better to feel alone and feel something, to find empathy and compassion that way than to feel nothing at all. Being alone is something everyone sympathizes with, because we’ve all been there. It’s a part of growing up, and it’s a state of mind that connects us all, ironically enough.
So when I say that I’ve been feeling lonely lately, I don’t mean that I want to work myself out of this state of mind. What I really mean to say is that I’m glad I’m experiencing a low now, at this point in my life, so that when something great happens, I’ll be able to appreciate that high.
What goes up must come down, but what falls down doesn’t necessary spring back up. It all depends on the foundation you’ve made for yourself and the durability of your character.
I’m hoping I’ll bounce back.
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