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.

DeNiece and I went blackberry picking last week. We had been trying for several weeks to go out but the weather had been wet. We decided it was probably our last chance before the blackberries disappeared.

We have been excursioning into the countryside around the house for the past four years now searching for the tasty berries. I guess it has become a tradition for us.

DeNiece who is now eight years old likes to eat more than she picks. I don't have a problem with that unless she eats the ones I have picked. She tends to be a grazing sort of a picker. She spots a good one, picks it and then moves on. She usually does not notice the other ones on the same bush that could be picked. I don't have a problem with that. I follow behind her and gather the ones left. She also tends to have a short attention span and gives up picking after 10 minutes or so. I don't have a problem with that either. It is nice to have her company.

We have noticed a few interesting things about blackberry bushes in our time of searching out their fruits. For example often the best blackberries are found in the grass. That means if you don't look where you are going you can stand on the berries. The ones that are easy to spot have usually been attacked by flies who seem to suck the juice out but if you look below the bush there is often a branch laden with fruit that is snaking its way through the grass.

We have about five  places where blackberries grow well but each year one of the places has a turn at providing superior, quality fruit. If you visit the same place that had great fruit last year, it won't have such a good crop this year.

When we arrive back home scratched and with purple juice stains around our mouth if we are an eight year old, we make some of the blackberries into jam and put the rest into the freezer.

Later on in the year when we fancy a taste of autumn we can make a blackberry pie, more jam or make flavouring to swirl through homemade ice cream which all sounds Martha- ery Stewartish really.