Thinketh maketh the woman

 

Wednesday, 19 September 2018

Thinketh maketh the woman

Hephzibah is the perfect place to take ones thoughts captive and make them obedient to Christ.

Why?

 

Because several million times a day in response to a look, a word, an action, a thought will enter the stage of one’s mind and stop midway. The thought usually of the lying variety, will take a deep breath and begin a soliloquy that could bring tears to the eyes of the most hard hearted person.

“Oh that is not fair,” it wails.

Within a very short time hearing the distress call another thought enters the stage and then there are two whinging and moaning and complaining.

Before one knows it there are hundreds of thoughts giving the performance of their lives all over the stage of my mind. They are such drama queens. Each trying to outdo the other. Naughty un Christlike thoughts vying for attention and approval.

And the clamour! One surely cannot hear oneself think for the cacophony.

The solution is found in being alert and diligent. The second the thought starts moving towards the stage lasso it and drag it away. In its place start sending thoughts that are true, noble, right, pure lovely admirable excellent and praiseworthy.

It is especially important to take thoughts captive because what we think affects the way we feel and the way we feel affects the way we speak and act. Nipping thoughts in the bud that are likely to make me feel  grumpy offended disappointed or resentful is very important. If I entertain them next minute I could easily say something or do something that I will have to ask forgiveness for.

I do not mind having to ask forgiveness but I would prefer it if I did not need to.

Last but not least

 

Sunday, 23 September 2018

Last but not least

This weekend has been a time of lasts. Last speaking time. Last wander around  my favouritism market.

Last naan at my favouritist restaurant. Oh last naan nearly turned into a disaster. The restaurant was very busy. But kind dada directed me to a table and brought a menu. I decided just to eat naan bread and a thumbs up.

After a while I could not remember if I had ordered a butter naan or plain naan. So as dada went past I said, "Butter naan dada?". From his reaction I realised he thought I was saying,"Where on earth is my butter naan."

He shook his head but reappeared shortly with a butter naan. It was a little bit cold which was unusual. Then as I ate it I  thought it was a little bit burnt. When I turned it over it definitely was burnt. Maybe it was a reject and he had given it to me to shut me up.

I could not allow my last naan to be a bad experience so when he went past again I said," Dada naan khub kharap." (Big brother this naan is very bad.)
"Kharap?" he replied.
I nodded.

Soon he came back with a naan was so hot I had to eat it with my knife and fork. It was up to the usual high standard of naan par excellence.

Please do not mind but I have the air conditioning on

I was sitting in my room in the cool fridge like conditions feeling a little bit embarressed because I was using electicity to cool my room. What what William Carey say?

The cool was certainly delicious. I went outside the room to the hallway  and it was like an oven.

I quickly came back in and turned the air conditioning off. After being out in the hall my room seemed very cool.

Later  I found a button on the remote control which read Room temp. When  I pushed it nothing happened until I turned the air con back on.

There it was -  the staggering truth. It was 30 flaming degrees.

 I instantly stopped feeling bad about using the air con. Again I checked the room temperature and it was 31 degrees.

It was bed time so I turned the air con back on. After an hour I was still awake so I looked to see what the room temperature was. It was 26 degrees. Crazy. The room temperature had only dropped five degrees in an hour.

At some point in the night it started to rain so I turned off the air con. In the morning when I opened my window there was a lovely breeze coming in.

As I breakfasted, showered and dressed I realised another advantage of using the air con. The marble floor was very cold.

Now it is nearly 4pm and it is 28 degrees in the room. I have had to close the windows because my blood sucking friends were coming in.

I can feel my face glowing with perspiration.

I wonder how my visitors would like a burst of cold air?

I really do need to turn the air con back on and cool down else I will never get my house dress off and my salwar chemise back on for 6pm when I am going out.

Here I am

I know. I know. I've been very slow to blog this time.  To date though I have been very busy  trying to book a train ticket.  I tried Wednesday.  No  luck. Internet was down in tourist booking office. So we went back yesterday and success. I'm off to Berhampur tomorrow in a third class air con seat. I have to be at the train station by 715 am.

I also tasted success literally  yesterday when I ate a naan bread at my favourite restaurant of all time. I have been instructed by Olivia who shall remain partially anonymous to eat as much butter chicken for her as I can. So I will do my best. Probably won't have many opportunities to eat out though.
Here is chicken butter Masala  I ate with naan which is the closest thing I can find to bchicken .

Will you just grow up

I’ve been on a bender to grow up emotionally ever since I read Peter Scazzero’s book Emotionally Healthy Spirituality, at the end of 2016. The bottom line of Pete’s book is, it is impossible to be spiritually mature while remaining emotionally immature. We want to be Christlike but dare I suggest, at the root of Christlikeness is emotionally maturity.

I suspect it is not just me God is wanting to mature!!! I believe at this point in time God is calling us, his kids in the church, to grow up and relate to one another in a mature way. I believe it is our emotional immaturity that is letting us down. We are not revealing the multi faceted aspects of the wisdom of God, love, as we are called to do. One sure sign of maturity is the ability to not only speak the truth in love but also be able to hear the truth. By the love we have for each other, people will know who we follow.

It is not enough to repent of sin as it happens, we have to allow the truth of the Holy Spirit to replace the dodgy immature sinful old man ways we relate to each other. Being defensive, distancing ourselves emotionally from people, to name two of the dysfunctions the Holy Spirit and I are dismantling, are not viable options for the chick following after Jesus. Nor the rooster. I dare to expect that as I become more emotionally mature, I will need to repent less. Ohhh, that sounded scary when I said it out loud.

You can imagine my joy at finding a website that talks about the challenges of maturing emotionally. In essence this is what the psychological world calls emotional intelligence - the ability to identify and manage your own emotions and the emotions of others. Check it out if you like. I have found the discussion there on relationships and self quite helpful and enlightening. www.thebookoflife.org.

How low can you go Chubby?

I have decided that being a follower of Jesus Christ is very similar to the game limbo stick. In limbo stick a pole is held parallel to the ground by two people. The players form a line and, in turn, they attempt to pass under the bar. After everyone in the line has had a turn, the bar is lowered an inch or two and the process repeats. When passing under the bar, players must bend backwards. No part of their bodies may touch the bar and no part other than their feet may touch the ground. The winner is the one who can pass under the bar the lowest. In the song Limbo Rock by Chubby Checker promoting the game, one of the phrases mentioned is “how low can you go.”

That to me is the catch cry of my walk with Jesus- how low can I go? How far am I prepared to die to self and pride and humble myself?

In Philippians 2:5  it is written

“Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross!”

In this passage we see how far Jesus was prepared to go. He made himself nothing, became a servant and eventually died. I believe he was able to do so because he knew who he was and was secure in his identity as the beloved son of God. When people spat at him, mocked him, whipped him, accused him, Jesus did not back off. He humbled himself because he knew God approved of him and was on his side. Then gloriously God's resurrection power brought Jesus back to life. 

Every day we have many opportunities to fight back, pamper ourselves, get even, refuse to be treated that way, insist on our rights, stand up for ourselves, get recognition, take the best seat or the biggest piece of cake. But I believe all God may require of us is to humble ourselves and see how low we can go. The crazy thing is God seems to use humiliation to make us humble if we choose that option. 

This walk I am on is not about me but about God. I humble myself and die to what I want, and he brings life. Its a great deal really even though it involves me giving up everything I have and am and ever hope to be.

How low can I go? I'm not sure at the moment but ask me in another 30 years just before my feet slip off the mortal high-wire. 

It's not all about you

I have this natural inclination to think that the way people treat me or speak to me is a reflection of my worth. I know. I know. It’s not all about me but somehow it seems to be. An abrupt word, a silence, a funny look, someone not listening or interrupting has the potential to send me on a downward spiral of melancholy and hopelessness. Useless, useless echoes around me as I slide down the slippery slope on my tushy. It’s so undignified. You can imagine how topsy turvy my inner world is at times. It really is exhausting being me.

Of course in all fairness to God Almighty the Creator of the universe, the One-Who-Knows-Everything, my inside world is not nearly as chaotic as it used to be. Slowly but surely He is pulling down those old lying habits of thinking that tell me, I’m useless, worthless, of no earthly use. He is renewing my mind with the truth that I am fearfully and wonderfully made in His image, I am loved with an everlasting love and Jesus dying on the cross is evidence of his love for me.

The fact of the matter is that if people treated me according to my inestimable worth which is non-negotiable, because you cannot argue with the One-Who-Knows-Everything, they would be running out red carpet everywhere I needed to walk, bowing when they approached me, fanning me with ostrich feather fans when it was too hot and feeding me with delicacies. My life would be one long royal visit which possibly would grow a little tedious for those I live with.

Yes the truth is I have great value and if people do not speak to me or treat me like that it could be, in the madness of the minute, they have forgotten that not only I, but them also, have inestimable worth. Perhaps like me they are pieces of brokenness being lovingly put back together and restored by their Creator.  Other people’s behaviour is definitely no reflection of my worth.

However, the question does need to be asked… what would happen if I treated everyone I met like they are royalty, made in the image of the creator of the universe? 

As a girl thinks so she is...

For the past couple of months I have been examining my thinking and despairing because the thoughts I have seem to be far removed from the kind of thoughts God wants me to have. The Bible encourages us to think like Jesus who lived a sinless perfect life. That tells me Jesus, unlike me, must have had his thoughts sorted. Our thoughts are very important. What we think determines how we feel, behave and what we say. For example if we have judgemental thoughts about others, our words and deeds will reflect this.

The Bible tells us that as God’s thoughts are higher than our thoughts so are his ways also higher. At that point we could give up and decide we are never going to think like God. However, I believe God wants to renew my mind and transform my thinking so I have his thoughts. Then I will start to love people like he does. One way God requires me to love people is to show mercy but it is very hard to be merciful when one has judgemental thoughts. I need my mind renewed so I view people with mercy instead of judgement.

I have been reading a few books in my quest for wisdom as to how to change my thinking. I found one written by Firestone, Firestone and Catlett called Conquer Your Inner Critical Voice which has been very helpful. They identify that each of us have a inner critical voice in our head that controls much of our decision making and the way we respond to situations.  Many of us are unaware of it chattering away, as it is a well established part, of who we are. The voice is destructive, critical, accusing and false and often overrules the good we feelings we have about ourselves. 

If you doubt whether you have a voice like this try and discover what you are thinking the next time when something unexpected, embarrassing or disappointing happens. The chances are your inner critical voice will surface at this point to give you its demoralising perspective.

The critical voice is a system of thinking patterns we developed in childhood while we were learning how to cope with life.  It is made up of the conclusions we drew about ourselves from the way our parents treated us, the negative feelings our parents had towards themselves and each other, our parents view of life including the things they did not talk about which we absorbed by osmosis and the defence mechanisms we developed to help us deal with painful and stressful situations.

These thinking patterns became the way we learnt to respond to the different life situations we faced. It is our enemy because it will try and sabotage our true selves; the person God has called us to be. For example God may have gifted me with the ability and desire to be a brain surgeon. If I fear failing because of past experiences which led me to conclude I am a failure, there is playing in my head a little voice telling me not to be absurd.  I am not brainy enough to  pass the exams necessary. Therefore I never have a go at becoming a brain surgeon.

Often at work and in our relationships we revert back to the thinking patterns we developed as children to protect us but these old defence mechanisms can limit our ability to do well at work, handle success and relate well to others. It is vital we learn to recognise the inner critical voice and develop a new positive and creative voice if we are to achieve all God has called us to be and do.

There is no doubt that God has done a radical work of renewing my mind and transforming  my thinking in many areas BUT he wants to do more. I recognise that even though my inner critical voice is not nearly as influential as it used to be, it still has far too much say in the way I react. There is a lovely Bible verse in 2 Corinthians 10:4,5 that recommends we demolish the thinking patterns that set themselves up against us knowing God. That is a scary thought that my thinking patterns can limit my experience of God but I believe that is what the inner critical voice does. It is a series of thinking patterns that need demolishing and replaced with God’s thoughts which are truth and loving.

Now it is just a matter of identifying the times the inner critical voice is still at work and breaking the habit of thinking by reassessing the situation in the light of God’s truth and focusing on that.

Sounds simple really….

Jesus' Definition of Happiness

I have been thinking again  this morning about the beatitudes. You know the ones? Found in Matthew 5.

Matthew 5: 3 (NIV)  "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4  Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
5  Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
6  Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
7  Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
8  Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
9  Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.
10  Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
11  "Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.
12  Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

Such fun all of them. All require God's grace and revelation to achieve, with knowing you are poor in spirit, being the key to them all. Don't think that you can be meek in the style of Jesus in your own strength.  Firstly you need to know that you are poor in spirit, that is do not have the resources to be meek and are  bankrupt of meekness. Then you need to ask for the grace to be meek. However, only do this if you are willing to persevere through trials to attain meekness. I suspect meekness and the other attributes are best formed in the furnace of affliction. 

I think these beatitudes represent the kind of mindset a good Jesus girl should have which means I need to have thoughts that reflect being poor in spirit, that mourn over sin, that are meek, merciful, peacemaking and pure. So when I persecuted for righteousness, insulted and lied about I will respond in the Jesus way. 

Myself at this present point in time, am more likely to respond with a woe is me, this isn't fair, what about me, kind of reaction. These are of course not in agreement with the beatitudes. If I am truthful I'm not even sure I want to be a living paragon of beatitude excellence. It sounds far too much like death to self to me.

However, somehow I need to get to the point where my mindset does reflect the beatitudes. I need to reach the head and heart space where I love being  poor in Spirit, love to  mourn, love being meek,  hunger and thirst for righteousness, love being merciful,  love being pure in heart, love being a peacemaker,  love being  persecuted because of righteousness, love being insulted and lied about. Why? Because when these things happen Jesus tells me I am blessed. Jesus says, “Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

Happiness believe it or not is being poor in spirit, mourning over sin and the rest.  It is not having a handsome husband, well-behaved children, a nice car, overseas trip, holiday home in the sun nor a beautiful house. 

Lower still honey

A quick skim over the posts I wrote over two years ago reveals to me I still seem to be dealing with the same issue of pride in my life. The need to keep working at humility seems to be  a re-occurring theme in my life. How low can you go?

Just when I think I am as low as I can go I am put in a situation where I start to defend myself or feel insecure. Pride rises like a fiery dragon and I go on the attack. Maybe not as aggressively as in the past but definitely on the attack.

Maybe I need to read this little piece I was given years ago every day for a while:

If we are to know humility, it means that we are dead to self. When you are forgotten or neglected or purposely set at nought and you don’t sting or hurt with the insult or the oversight but your heart is happy being counted worthy to suffer for Christ, that is dying to self.

When your good is spoken of as evil, when your wishes are crossed, your advice ignored, your opinions ridiculed and you refuse to let anger rise in your heart or even defend yourself but take it all in patient,  loving silence, that is dying to self.

When you lovingly and patiently bear any disorder, any irregularity, any unpunctuality or any annoyance, when you can stand face to face with waste, folly, extravagance, spiritual insensibility and endure it as Jesus endured it, that is dying to self.

When you are content with any food, any offering, any raiment, any climate, any society, any solitude and any interruption, that is dying to self.

When you never care to refer to yourself in your conversation or to record your own good works or itch after commendation, when you can truly love to be unknown, that is dying to self.

When you can see your brother prosper and have his needs met and honestly rejoice with him in Spirit and feel no envy nor question God while your own needs are far greater and in desperate circumstances, that is dying to self.

When you can receive correction or reproof from one of less stature than yourself and can humbly submit inwardly as well as outwardly finding no rebellion or resentment rising up within your heart that is dying to self.

Are you dead yet? In these last days the Spirit would bring us to the cross that I may know him being made conformable to his death Phil 3:10.(Author unknown).

Stop, come here, get back on the pavement

After the events of recent years I am beginning to develop a theory on the subject of humiliation. Why humiliation? Because this somewhat unpleasant topic seems to be one of the themes running through my life. I know this all sounds a bit morbid and self-absorbed but my theory does not involve me feeling sorry for myself. Rather it is me stepping back and figuring out what is going on. My theory contains observations of wonder and amazement at how something devastating, embarressing and potentially demoralising can do something magnificent in my character.

 As I am overlooked for promotion, ignored, watch others receive the praise that really was mine as well, or watch others get credit for a project they had little to do with, am denounced as having nothing to offer, put myself in a classroom to learn new skills, all of which can be  rather humiliating occasions, I have two options. I can either get bitter or better. Luckily without really realising it I have mostly allowed the experiences to make me better.

And the conclusion I have come to is  humiliation, if I let it, is the way I learn humility.

Now may I be so bold as to suggest we see this in the lives of people like Mother Theresa and Nelson Mandela. When Mother Theresa went to work and live on the streets of Kolkata with the poorest of the poor humiliation was her companion. Likewise when Nelson Mandela was unjustly imprisioned for a large portion of his life humiliation was closer than his shadow. However, both these history makers learned humility as a result and both are admired and respected for their contribution to humanity.  

Developing a theory on humiliation might be morose but I find it helpful because it prepares me to face humiliation face on and not to run from the lessons it has to teach me. Humiliation stops being an enemy when I embrace it and welcome the not so pleasant truths  it reveals to me about myself.

Maybe one day I will be so humble I will not even notice humiliation.

Cigarette?

I was sitting in a café and out of the window I saw three high school girls, walking past. In the eight seconds or so it took them to pass out of my view I noticed the girl closest to the street offer a three quarters smoked cigarette to the other two. Both declined the proffered gift. (I use the term gift very loosely)

Now appearances can be deceiving but it did look as if all three girls had been smoking the cigarette before they entered the part of the street where the café was. Otherwise why was the cigarette being offered? Who smokes most of a cigarette and then decides to offer it to companions?

Immediately I started to ask myself all sorts of questions. Like what sort of a pupil walks down the street in uniform smoking? What were they thinking? Why would any young person take up smoking when testimonies abound about how hard it is to stop and there is a regular bombardment of information as to how bad smoking is for you? Don’t they care how pathetic they looked? What were they hoping to achieve? What is the principal of the school’s phone number? Did the two girls refuse the cigarette because they saw me staring at them in stupendous wonder? Can’t young people think of a better way to rebel than smoking?

Were the girls participating in a social experiment to see what kind of reaction they would get to smoking in a public place? Where were the hidden television camera filming the response? Did they catch my reaction? Will a reporter come banging on my door demanding to know why I did not do something about the girls smoking? Is my chai latte gone already?

All good questions. And I do not know any of the answers except the principal's number is in the phone book and my chai latte which was warm and contained one third froth had indeed been quaffed. I do not know why it is so hard to get a hot chai latte that takes longer than two minutes to drink.

 

The power of the eyebrow

Did I ever mention the fact that I have a fascination with eyebrows? No? Well I do. I like checking out people's eyebrows. Eyebrows really are intriguing. Some are carefully coiffured with eyebrow pencil, some have been violently plucked into shape, some are untouched by human hand, some continue unhindered across the brow in a rebellious single brow and believe it or not some people do not really have eyebrows.

You would not know this of course unless you have studies people's faces the way I have.

I think my interest in eyebrows began with the Six Million Dollar Man. He could  lift one eyebrow higher than the other to give someone a puzzled, querying sort of look. I would watch all programme for the moment when that eyebrow would rise up. It was a very cool trick and I decided that was the kind of look I wanted to be able to give people. It took a while but I eventually trained the muscles on the left side of my eyebrow to go up and the muscles on the right to frown.

Aside from my triumphant eyebrow raising trick, the rest of the time nowdays, I find my eyebrows somewhat of a hassle. This is partly because for one birthday my brother and sister-in-law kindly shouted me a facial which included free eyebrowing shaping. I really liked the new shape but since that day I have felt duty-bound to pluck my eyebrows and keep them in order.

Unfortunately other the years my eyesight has deteriorated and so I need to wear glasses to see the hairs that need plucking. Not being able to see well has led to a few disasters when I have pulled out a few more hairs than the eyebrow technician did. So now my eyebrows are not as long as they once were which means if they grow back and I do not pluck them fast they look rather weird. Almost a bit Frankinsteinish.

I also can not see my eyebrows that well so I often forget to pluck them. It is fortunate really I do not have good eyesight because I think if I knew how Frankensteinish they looked I would be very embarressed.

You always.....

What I have noticed lately in life is human beans are particularly complaining sort of creatures. People complain about all kinds of things- some of which they have no control over it all. Like the weather. Complaining about the weather is an especially futile type of whining if you ask me. Does complaining about the weather change anything? Do the rain clouds take notice of the complaints? Does the sun resolve not to hide behind clouds any longer because of the comments it overhears? I do not think so.

 

I have decided never to complain about the weather again. Life is too short to spend time on matters I can do nothing about. Besides which whatever the weather does someone will complain. If it is hot people say it’s too hot or we need rain. If it rains people say it is too wet and we need to see the sun. I can see why the weather does it’s own thing- it is damned if it does and damned if it doesn’t.

 Another thing I have noticed about complaints is they are usually made to the wrong person. For example if I eat a meal at a restaurant and the cheese cake tastes like it was made several days ago, this is a true life story, do I

a)      take a bite and think this cheese cake tastes stale, refuse to eat any more and politely and respectfully report this to the waitress.

b)      eat the cheese cake anyway and the next day complain to my friends about what a stale tasting cheese cake it was.

The chances are I will take option b) to my shame.

Sometimes people make complaints about their workmates. Complaints about workmates fall into three categories.

1. Complaints that are justified.
2. Complaints that are only partly true.
3. Complaints that are false.

I regrettably have experience of all three. I have the following wisdom to offer about how to deal with complaints.

Category 1 complaints are ones that deal with our stuff-ups, failures or bad behaviour. My best advice is suck up your courage and fess up. Don’t deny it. Take responsibility like a big girl or boy and don’t pass the blame. Say sorry, promise to try better and if appropriate make restitution for any damage caused.

Category 2 is a tricky one to deal with because only part of the complaint is true but usually comes with emotional hype attached. If someone gives you a long list of your failings in a torrid verbal attack especially if they start the sentence with "you always…." it may take some sifting to find out what you should own up to. Also sometimes people jump to conclusions about a person’s behaviour and accuse them of a motive they might not have. eg "You never empty the rubbish tin because you think you are too good for the job." The truth may be you don’t empty the rubbish tin but because you forget or it is hidden from your sight or something. In this situation you can own up to not emptying the rubbish tin but not for feeling the job is beneath you.

Category 3 is when someone completely misunderstands your behaviour and jumps to scurrilous conclusions about your moral fibre and accuses you of shortcomings that would make Genghis Khan look like a saint.  My only advice is to thank them for sharing, which is an euphemism for dumping on you, and say you will give what they shared some thought.  Then go to Fiji for two weeks.

Sometimes we may feel the urge to complain about our workmates. I have some guidelines for this as well.

1. Figure out whether the complaint is a category 1,2, 3. If it is category 1 go to them and explain politely and respectfully how they stuffed up. Be specific. Make a list so you keep to the facts. Don’t get hysterical. If they won’t listen talk to the boss about it.

2. The chances are complaints in category 2 and 3 are not about the person’s failure to perform their job but more about our reaction to their personality. Sometimes unresolved issues in our own lives are triggered by someone else’s funny little ways. For example if someone’s comments make you feel stupid it may be because you feel insecure about how intelligent you are. Of course they could be playing psychological war games to make you feel stupid to keep themselves entertained during those long days in the office.  Whatever the case, figure out if there are any category 1 behaviours that can be addressed. If there aren’t deal with your crap and grow up.

I told you that

I have been thinking lately that humility is such an important character trait to have.

Now I am not exactly sure how to define humility. I know it is the opposite of being proud and I am fairly sure I know when I have taken the humble option as opposed to the proud one. I am also fairly confident I can recognise humility in the lives of people I interact with.  I know it has to do with being other-people-conscious rather than being self absorbed. Humble people do not call attention to themselves and tend not to talk too much about their latest exploits. Humble people tend not to argue, don't need to be right all the time or have the last say or get their own way and usually take the smallest piece of cake. They also listen to instructions to the end of the sentence, are open to new ideas or someone else's way of doing things, are happy to do as they are asked and give way to traffic who failed to give way to them.

"I told you that" or "I told you so"  are two phrases you probably will not hear out of the mouth of a humble person.

If one stops and think about humility, one could well discover it is a necessary attribute to many of the activities we involve ourselves in. It could determine  whether we succeed at these activities or not. For example if I am going to be a good friend I need to be a good listener. To be a good listener takes humility. It is impossible to listen well without humility. It takes humility to keep your mouth shut while someone shares with you. It takes humility not to butt in with your side of the story or another similar story or a solution to a problem that might be shared.

If one works in a place where one needs to interact with people, one needs to be humble. Humility is an important characteristic for sales people no matter what they are selling. It takes humility to find out what a customer wants and then find a way to meet their need. For example I like my coffee very hot and I always ask for very hot coffee because I have learned from experience that not everyone makes coffee as hot as I like it. It amazes me when I make that request to a sales person and they say 'we make all our coffee hot". It especially amazes me when the coffee they make is not very hot even though I requested it.

But the thing that most cheeses me off about being given a not-so-very-hot coffee is the dilemma I am now in as a person who is trying to practice humility. Somehow I have to figure out what the humble option is in this situation. Is it drinking the coffee anyway or do I respectfully ask them to heat up the coffee in the microwave for 30 seconds? Life is fraught with challenges for the proud person who is trying to be humble.

And proud people is what I suspect, we human beings basically are. I think we have a default programme that inclines us to be proud. As we grow up, being proud becomes entrenched in our behaving. If we choose to override the programme and be humble, it takes training before we become  practised in the art of humility. And even then if we are not watchful the default setting boots back in with a toss of its head and a prideful snort.

No buts allowed

Starting a new career later in life has hidden surprises in store for the unsuspecting pilgrim. I first noticed it 30 years ago when I started off training in a career where older students, they call them mature students nowadays, were training with those of us straight out of school. We used to pull faces on the inside every time one of them contributed to a class discussion. What they had to say had integrity, born of life experience - we had none and it was obvious. They had observations to make learnt from real life. We had read about what they were talking about in books.

Lately as I have observed older people starting new careers and done the same myself, I have realised it is not only when one is training for a new career there are obstacles to overcome, but it is also when one starts employment in the new career the challenges really begin.

The conclusion I have come to is humility is the key for successfully hurdling the obstacles. It takes humility to learn the ropes in any new position but for older people I suspect it is harder to take the humble option.

Here is some advice I would give myself if I was ever in that position again: 

1. Be prepared to be very humble. Old people aren't used to be bossed around and told how to do their job but that is what will happen to you when you start a new career. You will start the position as a learner whether you like it or not so you might as well have a teachable attitude. Worst case scenario you could find yourself being bossed around by someone years younger than you but experienced in the position.

2. Never argue with the boss or your workmates. They are always right even when they aren't. If you make a comment the boss or a colleague immediately takes umbrage to, do not continue the conversation. Change the subject the first chance you get.

3. Never assume you know what the best approach to take is in any situation. Always run your plan of attack past the boss. Ask questions to avoid potential stuff-ups.

4. Be slow to speak and quick to listen. Try not to talk about your past achievements or past experiences too much. Try not to come across as someone who knows a lot even if you do.

5. Avoid making black and white statements that people can instantly feel affronted by. Ask questions rather than making statements. That is turn the statement into a question. For example instead of saying "The councillors are paid too much money" turn it into "Do you think the councillors are paid too much money?"

6. Do whatever it takes to succeed in your new career. You are older, it takes longer to learn new skills so do overtime if necessary to get yourself up to speed. Be kind to yourself.

7. Be prepared for the inevitable drop in pay. When you start a new career especially one you have retrained for, you very likely will start on the pay scale as someone who has left school and undertaken the same training. All the life experience you have gained do not count when it comes to pay calculations.

You reap what you sow

Lately I have become aware how important choices are in our life. The choices I make today will have consequences tomorrow. My life today is an assortment of consequences that have resulted from earlier choices I have made. I am reaping the consequences of choices I have made earlier in my life which is quite a scary concept really. Some of those choices were made thirty years ago or more which tells me the effects of choices we make as a young person can ripple throughout a lifetime.

What started me thinking about choices was listening to people talk about their lives. It would appear that many feel entrapped in their situation like they have no choice about what happens in their lives. It may be a little simplistic of me but I think that is a load of cobblers. The only thing that traps most people is attitude. We always have a choice. Even shackled hand and foot by heavy chains in a dark dungeon we have choices albeit limited.

Some choices revolve around the thoughts and attitudes I choose to have. The attitude I choose in response to a situation can seriously influence my  perspective of that situation and whether I prosper or decline in it. I know the difference choosing to have a positive attitude can make.  I have just completed two and a half years relatively happily in a job I did not especially feel at ease in just by choosing to tell myself the positive aspects of the job, being careful not to give the negative side any attention.

Some choices are more tangible like where I have chosen to live or work or how I decide to spend my spare time.

I suspect that many of the choices I have made up to this point of my life have not been particularly well-thought out. The bigger decisions probably were but there have been times when I have been careless to consider the long-term consequences of a decision. For example my decision  to train and work as a journalist. What possessed me to do that? I am not so sure in hindsight. I have never been interested in reading the newspaper. What made me think I would have the heart to write news stories? I am not saying it was not an enjoyable experience or that it has not had huge benefits to my character but I do not have much in common with the media industry.

If I am making sensible, calculated choices the chances are the choices I make will be determined by what I value. If cats are my favourite animal it is hard to see myself getting a puppy and taking it to dog obedience classes. If my family are important to me the chances are I will prioritise spending time with them.

So I think in future I will start making choices far more critically by examining what I value and then making choices accordingly. Which brings me to the coup de grace of my ruminatings about choices.

Why do I complain about my life when who I am today, living the life I have today, is the result of choices I have made?

I have a secret enjoyment that I am almost too shy to admit to - I have a fondness for war poetry. Well to be specific World War I war poetry and in particular Wilfred Owen.

I think it is the raw-boned honesty of the poetry I like. You can imagine when a poet was up to his kneecaps in water and mud in a trench, surrounded by dead bodies and rats, with an itchy skin because of the lice and someone was either trying to gas him  or bomb him, social niceties and conventions would be stripped away. In those days of uncertainty and despair one would be reduced to being honest.
 

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?

             Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
             Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
             Can patter out their hasty orisons.

wrote Wilfred Owen who tragically died a week before the armistice was signed. His parents found out about his death on Armistice Day. Can you imagine how they would have felt when they heard the armistice had been signed but too late for their boy?
Owen told it how it was.
       
            Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
            Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
           Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
            And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
            Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
            But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
            Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
           Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind

This is an extract from his poem Dulce et Decorum est. (It is sweet and right) At the end of this poem he concludes if you had seen someone dying of gas poisoning you would not be so quick to believe the lie that it is sweet and right to die for your country which was the prevailing belief of the day.

Somehow I do not think we have learned the lessons that Owen tries to teach us in his poems.

I find the subject of opinions rather fascinating. Being an analytical sort of chick it is one of those subjects I like to ponder over and ruminate on.

I would define an opinion as a set of beliefs one holds on a given subject.  I really believe an opinion, the set of beliefs one holds on a given subject, should result from a careful analysis of the facts available and hope my opinions are like this. If an opinion is not based on fact then one starts to get on slippery territory. History is full of examples when someone’s opinion, not based on fact, became the governing opinion of the day and had disastrous consequences. Eg Hitler’s opinion about the superiority of the Aryans resulted in the genocide of millions of non-Aryans.

I have reached the place where I do not usually worry too much if people do not agree with my opinion. I do have some fairly left field opinions that are counter status quo and are a little too confrontational for some. So it is understandable people would not agree with them. But also I have realised thankfully in my old age that an opinion is simply that. It is just what I think. It is my perception of the facts that determines what I believe about a subject. It is personal to me.

So why is it are we so threatened by the opinions of others? I have noticed that this does happen. Is it because we think everyone should think like us and when they don't we get tetchy and defensive? I am not sure. Could it be insecurity, immaturity or pride?

In actual fact instead of reacting to someone’s opinion with an avalanche of reasons why what they believe is misguided, which is what often happens in conversation, I should be mature enough to say….. “that is an interesting opinion - tell me what led you to that conclusion? ”

I would like to listen to people without giving in to the temptation to tell them what they are sharing is wrong, because it is my impression, I was told that in my younger years. To be told that your opinions are wrong can be quite disconcerting. It can cause you to question your own worth. When someone tells you what you have shared is wrong, you can interpret that as meaning everything about you is wrong which of course is an erroneous conclusion.

One of my favourite how-to-communicate books, states a helpful way to think about what other people have to say, is to view it as a gift and be grateful they shared. So I guess that is a starting place then. If what people share is a gift, I can unwrap it, check it out and decide whether I want to keep it or not. I am not sure that is what the book meant but at least I have listened with an open mind and heard what the person had to say. That has to be better than trying to persuade people what they believe is wrong.

Because at the end of the day, when all is said and done, when the fat lady has finished singing, the final curtain has fallen and push comes to shove an opinion is just what someone thinks.  I have the choice whether I believe what is said or not. It has no power over me unless I give it power.

Mrs Newman said

Every since Mrs Newman's sixth form English class, where I learnt language evolves over time, I have had a growing fascination with helping the English language change. I think it is because I am a revolutionary at heart except I have not quite found what it is I am to revolutionise so I have settled for the English language in the meantime.

In fact I would have to say I have a perverse sense of pleasure in taking liberties with my noble mother tongue. The rules of grammar should only be guidelines in the use of the language, I believe. The only guideline that should really be enforced, much like a rule I suppose, is that people can understand you. I am not sure Mrs Newman would approve but it is another way I keep myself entertained.

For example I like modifying existing words. Bettera is the word that describes a situation that has gone past just being better. Brightera describes something that is gaining luminosity. Favouritist is something that is even bettera than favourite. By the way Mrs Newman would have to be one of my favouritist teachers of all time.

My workmates also share this delightful past-time with me and we now a workplace vernacular that really would have Mrs Newman perplexed.

Vanaging is the quick version of saying "We are driving the van back to where it is housed overnight."
Sconage time describes the habit of one workmate who usually at about 9.30am walks down to the shop to buy a scone for morning tea.

Lately I have also been experimenting with the pronunciation of words. For example gurrate is the way you feel in a situation where you feel like grinding your teeth and getting grumpy but in the interests of public decorum or keeping your job you smile sweetly and pretend everything is great. Burrzare is a polite way of saying this situation is bizarre and it gives me the shivers.

One day my aim is to invent a whole new voacbulary. That may be a way off in the distance though because so far I have not invented a new word.

I should quickly add this fascination of mine is a paradox because in my line of work I have to be very precise in the way I use language. I write to the age level of a 12-year-old and I am only allowed to paraphrase and quote what the people I interview say.

This means I have to be very circumspect about when I am inventive with language. Definitely not when interviewing people. Probably not a good idea in front of her majesty, the queen  nor at a job interview. Nor when talking to children, before whom one should always set a good example.

It is all about remembering who you are and where you are.