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
13 March 2010
07 March 2010
02 March 2010
Energy, much?
I've gotten way too complacent. Being comfortable means I'm not pushing myself enough, so looks like I'll have to haul some major you-know-what. To be young and in the City doesn't mean a thing if I'm okay with being just that: young and, well, here.
I need to shake things up. Winter's over and hibernation just isn't an option anymore.
Big things are going to happen in 2010, I can feel it.
I need to shake things up. Winter's over and hibernation just isn't an option anymore.
Big things are going to happen in 2010, I can feel it.
23 February 2010
Olympic fervor
I love love love watching the Olympics. There is so much passion and so many narratives packed into each sporting event, and the stakes are always high. The underachieving kid who opened up through skiing, the skater whose win will justify her coach's losses, the athlete who will champion on just two days after her mother's death -- there is something so human and relatable about the people who compete. Nations band together to support their athletes, but even if the competition is fierce, the general sense of goodwill is ever-present.
Watching the Games also makes me a little bit wistful, though. The reason why kids love athletes and look up to them so much, George Clooney's character said once upon a time, is because they went after their dreams.
The reason why athletes are so revered in society is because they're doing what most college grads working in cubicles can only dream of doing -- they made their hobby the main event. They train for 48-hours weeks. Stretching, sprinting, skating -- that's their job. How incredible does that sound?
In running into people from all different backgrounds in New York, working in a myriad of fields, I feel so fortunate to be able to respond immediately when people ask "Do you like what you do?"
I do.
I think being surrounded by journalists and writers all the time can blur my concept of what it means to do what you love. Journalists may have chosen their profession for a number of reasons, but money wasn't likely one of them. This automatically means that the vast majority of journalists aren't at their job just to "pay the bills" -- they must (and usually do) get a great deal of joy from their work.
It sure isn't on par with Olympic athletes, but working in the journalism field is a little bit like making it into that small demographic of dream-catchers. You put up with the instability, the long hours and the insane projects because you love every minute of it, and realize that living your dream is a most indescribable rush. Then you spend the rest of your life trying to tell others (by means of stories, written or told) how amazing and exhausting your job is.
It's a pretty great narrative.
Watching the Games also makes me a little bit wistful, though. The reason why kids love athletes and look up to them so much, George Clooney's character said once upon a time, is because they went after their dreams.
The reason why athletes are so revered in society is because they're doing what most college grads working in cubicles can only dream of doing -- they made their hobby the main event. They train for 48-hours weeks. Stretching, sprinting, skating -- that's their job. How incredible does that sound?
In running into people from all different backgrounds in New York, working in a myriad of fields, I feel so fortunate to be able to respond immediately when people ask "Do you like what you do?"
I do.
I think being surrounded by journalists and writers all the time can blur my concept of what it means to do what you love. Journalists may have chosen their profession for a number of reasons, but money wasn't likely one of them. This automatically means that the vast majority of journalists aren't at their job just to "pay the bills" -- they must (and usually do) get a great deal of joy from their work.
It sure isn't on par with Olympic athletes, but working in the journalism field is a little bit like making it into that small demographic of dream-catchers. You put up with the instability, the long hours and the insane projects because you love every minute of it, and realize that living your dream is a most indescribable rush. Then you spend the rest of your life trying to tell others (by means of stories, written or told) how amazing and exhausting your job is.
It's a pretty great narrative.
15 February 2010
14 February 2010
Plans, A-Zed
Having a Plan B is more harmful than helpful in the long run. True or false? I've been thinking a bit about this, and about whether my conclusions to this query are even valid given that I'm coming from a (largely) unrealistic mindset, one wherein I have the privilege of having a "rich man's troubles."
By this, I mean that having the option to pursue something I want to do in life is a luxury. I realize this all too well. Not everyone is blessed with the opportunity of choice. For most of the world, it's sink or swim. If you don't like what you're doing, tough noogies because someone has to make money to support the household, and your happiness comes secondary after security.
But in the grand scope of things, does having a back-up plan actually harm you, regardless of whether or not it's practical? Having a back-up to anything is like subconsciously telling yourself that the first option won't work out. Why would you need a second choice if the first one is the right one?
Choice, I think, can seriously hinder our ability to adapt (and I can't tell yet if this is a good or bad thing...am currently trying to think through it). Our Plan A is always going to be that dream, that almost-out-of-reach goal that we strive to attain. It's our Plan A because it's what we would want in a perfect world, be it a career, a relationship, or a life path, and moreover, it's that thrill of the chase that makes it a Plan A. Our Plan B is always something that we're willing to settle for, that we agree upon with a "Well, that wouldn't be so bad."
And not to say that this is necessarily a bad thing, but realistically speaking (ha!), this is like saying that you didn't have the persistence, the passion or the patience to see Plan A all the way through. You opted to take an easier path and will likely spend your energy justifying it to yourself. Having options means never having to change and adapt, and if life isn't about changing or adapting, then what is it about?
Learning is never supposed to happen in comfort. Plan B represents stability, safety and sometimes...stagnation. Growing up and being in your 20s is about pursuing Plan A. I remember that line from "Up in the Air," when Clooney's Ryan Bingham told his firee (guy he was firing, I'm sure that's a word somehow...) that the reason why kids admire athletes so much is because they followed their dreams. There's a dignity and a drama to that.
When people tell me to be "realistic" or ask about whether or not my job is "real," I never know how to respond. I am being realistic. So were and are all the people who have been able to create their own definitions of reality. If you don't like something, change it. And to me, having a "real" job is not tied to the definition of clocking in and clocking out as per "standard." A "real" job doesn't have to be one that you're miserable at -- I think the idea that someone would actually like going into work is counterintuitive to most; it was also considered abnormal to "like" homework, wasn't it?
But in moving to New York, I meet people who love their work just as often as I meet those who detest it. And to me, I know which group I want to fall into. The goal was never to settle into something comfortable. The goal was always to learn and live fully every day. Maybe this is naive, but that's my Plan A.
And I don't know or really care to have a Plan B past that.
By this, I mean that having the option to pursue something I want to do in life is a luxury. I realize this all too well. Not everyone is blessed with the opportunity of choice. For most of the world, it's sink or swim. If you don't like what you're doing, tough noogies because someone has to make money to support the household, and your happiness comes secondary after security.
But in the grand scope of things, does having a back-up plan actually harm you, regardless of whether or not it's practical? Having a back-up to anything is like subconsciously telling yourself that the first option won't work out. Why would you need a second choice if the first one is the right one?
Choice, I think, can seriously hinder our ability to adapt (and I can't tell yet if this is a good or bad thing...am currently trying to think through it). Our Plan A is always going to be that dream, that almost-out-of-reach goal that we strive to attain. It's our Plan A because it's what we would want in a perfect world, be it a career, a relationship, or a life path, and moreover, it's that thrill of the chase that makes it a Plan A. Our Plan B is always something that we're willing to settle for, that we agree upon with a "Well, that wouldn't be so bad."
And not to say that this is necessarily a bad thing, but realistically speaking (ha!), this is like saying that you didn't have the persistence, the passion or the patience to see Plan A all the way through. You opted to take an easier path and will likely spend your energy justifying it to yourself. Having options means never having to change and adapt, and if life isn't about changing or adapting, then what is it about?
Learning is never supposed to happen in comfort. Plan B represents stability, safety and sometimes...stagnation. Growing up and being in your 20s is about pursuing Plan A. I remember that line from "Up in the Air," when Clooney's Ryan Bingham told his firee (guy he was firing, I'm sure that's a word somehow...) that the reason why kids admire athletes so much is because they followed their dreams. There's a dignity and a drama to that.
When people tell me to be "realistic" or ask about whether or not my job is "real," I never know how to respond. I am being realistic. So were and are all the people who have been able to create their own definitions of reality. If you don't like something, change it. And to me, having a "real" job is not tied to the definition of clocking in and clocking out as per "standard." A "real" job doesn't have to be one that you're miserable at -- I think the idea that someone would actually like going into work is counterintuitive to most; it was also considered abnormal to "like" homework, wasn't it?
But in moving to New York, I meet people who love their work just as often as I meet those who detest it. And to me, I know which group I want to fall into. The goal was never to settle into something comfortable. The goal was always to learn and live fully every day. Maybe this is naive, but that's my Plan A.
And I don't know or really care to have a Plan B past that.
12 February 2010
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