Showing posts with label hubris. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hubris. Show all posts

Saturday, September 7, 2013

unwanted feedback

Several months ago, my toxic co-worker informed me that my manner is often curt.  Since she went around in perpetual scowl mode herself, I thought it was a ludicrous comment.  I've always worked to be approachable and generous with my time and attention, so I decided  it was just one more manufactured criticism, an excuse for her ongoing dislike and niggly attacks.

So I thought.

Yesterday I was lunching with a dear friend, and he informed me that I am often rude to the wait staff.  I was stunned.  I love to dine out, and I am horrified at the thought that my behavior makes it difficult for other people to enjoy themselves.  Besides, it's stupid to be rude to the person who handles your food.

He said my manner could be blamed on D, source of all evil in my universe.  But I can't dismiss it so facilely.

Have I really turned into that hideous old lady who makes unreasonable demands and cannot be pleased?   Don't I say please and thanks?  Don't I smile when I make a request?  Don't I look people in the eye?  What is this rudeness of which they speak?

I guess the real problem is that I have been unaware of my negative impact on people.  I don't know how to fix a problem that I cannot recognize.  There are so many things I accuse myself of, but rudeness has never been on the list.

I truly don't know what to do with this feedback.


Thursday, June 20, 2013

Bored Angels

T has a theory about Bored Angels. He says, don't attract the attention of a Bored Angel (by voicing fears or contentment:  the Angel will make the fears manifest and undermine the contentment.)  It's his version of  saying:  things are too good to be true, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, knock on wood. Nothing is to small for a Bored Angel's attention.  I remember worrying about snow during a drive, and it arrived the next day.  T texted me: "Thanks a lot, pal!"

T's theory is strongly allied to the Greek playwright's theme of hubris, the  excessive pride or arrogance or ambition, which led to the fall of all Greek heroes.  Basically the gods don't like mere mortals thinking they have any control over their lives;  so, just when you think you have it all figured out, WHAM! you are struck down.

Years ago a friend of Greek extraction told me that if I ever went to Athens, everyone would be spitting on me.  I said, why?  And she said, to keep bad fortune away from you:  you are so beautiful you would attract the attention of evil spirits otherwise.  (I was younger then, and she was kind.)  In fact, many cultures consider it bad luck to praise children....it even show's up in Kipling's Jungle Book stories.

I am so indoctrinated in this concept, that when I think things are going well, I start to get nervous.  A relationship feels solid?  He's getting ready to dump me.  Work is good?  There's muttering behind closed doors that does not bode well.  I'm happy?  Something miserable is just around the corner.

How much of this is self-fulfilling prophecy, I do not know.  I am aware of the Power of Positive Thinking:  a psychologist friend shared research about optimistic people and pessimistic people.  The latter were grounded in reality, but the former MADE their reality.  M talks to the Universe about every little thing, and the Universe invariably responds helpfully.  But I've never had the confidence or the connection with the Universe (or the Bored Angels or the gods.)  I usually just wait to be struck down.

That being the case, I have no explanation for what just happened.  I had been feeling disconnected, unloved and unlovable.  Not in a grief-stricken way, but in a distant floating sort of way:  my mind and body separated from my emotions.  This went on for several days.  I wore my game face and went through my routine, waiting for it to go away.  Finally, today I sat down and blogged about it.

And then I went about my day, tired but steady.  Doing what I needed to do.  Around closing time I got a text:  "got plans for supper?"  I wrote back "rehearsal 7-8:30."  I didn't say I was strongly considering ditching rehearsal, I was so exhausted.  The reply:  "come over for dinner and then go to rehearsal."  And I did.

Dinner was pleasant, rehearsal was desperately needed (new space, the addition of the band and soloist), and I found myself looking through the new windows at the growing moon and realizing.....I'm happy.  Then I spoke to A, who is going through a bad patch and needed a good hug, which I provided.  She said, "you're such a warm person."  And I was filled with gratitude that my presence mattered.

So the question is:  what sort of entity did my whiny blog attract?  A Bored Angel who was feeling contrary? A compassionate Universe?

Not that I'm complaining.  (Or bragging.)