Tag: Courage

It wasn’t a hobby to begin with

Share a hobby you’ve picked up recently — what got you into it?

I’ve written about this in another post but here’s an update.

Almost three years ago my children were using a language learning app, but the free version of the app only allowed so many mistakes in a day, which meant they were running out of ‘lives’ regularly. So, I bought the family version for the year.

Knowing how kids are with such things, I decided that, rather than waste the money, I would do something that I’d always wanted, and it would be just for me, to treat myself. I would learn Italian.

Early on in my journey a friend suggested that since I already spoke English and Welsh, maybe I have a flair for languages, which intrigued me.

I finished the Italian course and moved on to Spanish, then French. And now, almost three years later, I’m on Brazilian Portuguese. And it’s become a hobby.

Whether I’ll ever use these languages remains to be seen. I’m keeping them fresh by reading and watching videos in those languages. But for me, it’s a hobby, and it’s just for me.

Today is All I Need

If you could relive one day from your past, which day would it be and why?

Why relive a day in the past?

To enjoy the exquisite pleasure again? It wouldn’t be the same.

To correct a stupid mistake? How might that change the present? For better? Or for worse?

So many past experiences, good, bad, and indifferent, have made us what we are today. How would we be changed by reliving one day, especially if we changed something?  Would we be happier? Would we be sadder?

Were the good old days really that good? Were the bad old days really that bad? How might our present knowledge, shaped by our past, affect our experience of that day?

Did a bad experience change us for the better? Or a good experience change us for the worse? What might happen if we changed that experience?

Even if we simply visited the day and watched what happened as an observer, our experience of that day would be different from what it was at the time.

The past made us what we are today, for better or worse. If we changed something, it would affect us in unknown ways. If we left things alone, it would still change us in unknown ways.

Such is the time travel paradox. We can’t relive the past without changing our experience of it, and our memory of it.

No. Today is enough for me.

Growing Up

What’s a moment when you realized you were officially an adult?

Taking my wife into hospital in labour with our first child. It was like a switch was suddenly flicked and the realisation hit that childhood freedoms were gone, and real responsibility had kicked in.

None of us completely give up our childhood ways. But we modify them as we supervise our little ones’ faltering steps as they explore the world that we once inhabited.

Be Yourself

If you had a time machine and could send just one message to your past self, what would it say?

I would tell myself to be who I am, not what I think others want me to be. Because when you try to be what others want you to be, they’re never satisfied. They won’t like you and you won’t like yourself.

So, cherish the people you’re with, but cherish who you are, too. As long as you’re not harming anyone, just be yourself.

Oh, yes. And stress is very over rated!

My Way . . . Our No Way

Weather Vane

I have recently become fascinated by the number of people who believe that the world revolves around them.

I’m all for encouraging others to feel good about themselves, and I don’t disagree with trying to engender positivity. I like the concept of helping everyone to build self-esteem.

Yet it seems to me that the current “accept everything” model, together with the idea that it’s not right (not acceptable in a world that accepts everything?) to tell a child that they are in the wrong, is building a world full of selfish entitlement. It’s my way, or no way.

For example, you make arrangements to catch a specific train. That requires you to leave the house by a specific time so as to get to the station on time. Yet the attitude seems to be, “Well the train will just have to wait for me!”

I’m sorry, but when did your entitlement to be late overrule everyone else’s entitlement to be punctual?

Interestingly, such people will often make a major issue over your relaxed arrangements. This is a wonderful experience to behold.

“What time are we leaving?”

“After breakfast.”

“So what time is that?”

“Between 9.00 and 10.00.”

“Can’t you be more specific?”

“Not really. It depends on how long it takes everyone to get ready. But as long as we leave by 10.00 we’ll be fine.”

“So 10.00, then.”

“No. Between 9.00 and 10.00; when we are all ready. But definitely before 10.00 so that we miss the traffic.”

Then the fun starts. Breakfast over, you say:

“Is everyone ready to leave, then?”

“No. I have to get dressed”

“Go on, then. But don’t take too long. You have 15 minutes.”

Twenty minutes later, at 10.05 you go to check.

“Not dressed, yet? We’re going to be late and we’ll get caught in the traffic and miss the train.”

“Well, they’ll just have to wait for me, won’t they. You’ll just have to drive faster.”

And this person who was simply going to die unless you gave them a specific time now holds everything up, expecting everyone else’s life to revolve around him. (Or her.)

It’s one of the hazards of shielding children from the consequences of their actions, or covering for them, getting them out of trouble. They grow up feeling that they are the most important person in the world, and that leads to the same attitude as they age.

The reality is that we are not the most important persons in the world. The only way to be special is to treat everyone else as more special than you. But when we shield people, including children, from the consequences of their actions, we develop a thankless, heartless, entitled generation.

Next time you come across this attitude, whether in yourself or others, resolve, not to shield the perpetrator from the consequences, but to enforce those consequences with all your might. (As long as it’s safe to do so, of course!)

“Yes. I know you wanted to go to the park. And I know I said that we would go as soon as you’re dressed. But, look. The park gates are locked for the night because you took so long to get dressed.”

Be prepared, however, to suffer your own consequences:

“Well if you had told me to get dressed earlier we wouldn’t have been late!”

I know. It seems like you can’t win. But do this enough times and the message will start getting through.

Respect and dignity require mutual consideration, not insistence on our rights, regardless of the consequences to other people.