Monday Musings

Being home with a sick child is a recipe for doing wholly nothing. This has been well documented. Yet here I sit, adding my two cents to generations' worth of knowledge. I wish I could do something productive, explore new music, write something worthwhile... but I must temper my expectations. Today shall be a "Moderate Monday". If I do no more than care for the children, I will have done plenty - or so I tell myself.

But my heart resists. Do, do, do! screams the inner voice, the same persona that quivers, critically aware of the minutes scrolling by. She helpfully presents me with flash impressions of the items on my theoretical "to-do" list: clean up, find a cleaning lady, do the front closet, make supper, fold more laundry, pay bills, ad infinitum.

And my daughter whines because she lacks the tech skills to navigate my phone and locate the videos her siblings watch. I refuse to sit there showing her video after video until we both snap, screen-crazed and foggy, hungry and neglected. There has to be a way to engage her in real creative play. Or even to "cuddle her", as she sometimes requests.

It's the tedium that gets me, I think. Mundanity has ever been a problematic subject. (I touched on this yesterday when considering the value of intelligence versus hard work. See "You're So Smart." - not.)

What will it take to impress on me the value of, and blessing that is, a normal day? Don't answer that. I need to look at today as an opportunity to flex my gratitude muscles.

Today I am grateful for:
1. Family.
2. Shelter.
3. Security.
4. Spirituality.
5. Theyeshiva.net.

"You're So Smart!" - not.

It's been a while since I've written. And by that, I mean, since I've written anything beyond my journal. (I don't think the journal counts as real writing - it's more stream-of-consciousness than craft.) I'm not sure why, but my creative drive moves in cycles, from music to writing to nothing, or some other sequence of the same. I don't seem to control it, and I have zero discipline, so those artistic practices recommended by William Kenower (see Fearless Writing, here and here) don't actually work for me.

That's the problem.

In the real world, it seems, talent alone doesn't cut it. One needs discipline, consistency, and above all, effort, in order to produce results. I was raised to value genius. For the longest time, I entertained the secret hope that I would turn out to be a prodigy. My husband, on the other hand, grew up valuing effort and results. "You work/ed hard," is a common form of praise for his family.

I've come to recognize that effort and consistency are more likely to produce results than genius alone. Genius can sit in a corner preening, while effort actually moves the blocks. I don't say this to put myself down. Rather, my values are shifting, and this will impact how I parent my children. No longer, "You're so smart". Yes, s/he is smart. But is that worth praising? Did the child do anything deserving of praise? "You gave it your best" actually notices a behavior.

I'm reminded of a period in high school where my peers liked to tell me how smart I was. It was meant as a compliment, but it did not sit well with me. My secular education had been more complete than theirs, plus, I'd spent my whole childhood reading books. I'd picked up a couple things, that was all.

When I entered the real world, I was unprepared for real work. I'd coasted through school on 'talent', never learning the value of effort or consistency. And now as an adult, I'm paying the price.

I only hope that recognizing the value in targeting praise to behavior will enable me to better raise competent successful adults.

A TED talk by Eli Nash

Watch this. Just... trust me on this one, take the fifteen minutes, and watch this video. Right now.

This guy is my new hero.

In the video, Eli Nash speaks about his struggle with porn addiction and the associated shame attached to that illness. He speaks in candid terms about other peoples' reactions to his openness. It seems like his goal is to break the stigma around discussion of pornography as a dangerous, and damaging addiction.

I can't even imagine the amount of courage it took for Nash to bare himself like this. Giving a TED talk about fighting porn addiction is the ultimate in vulnerability. I'm reminded of Brene Brown's book, Daring Greatly, in which she lays out her case for vulnerability as the stuff of life. According to Brown's research, vulnerability lays the groundwork for connection, which, as Johann Hari claims, is the opposite of, and antidote for addiction.

If Brown and Hari are correct, Nash really is conquering addiction, and we are watching him do it. In delivering that speech, Nash is not just breaking a stigma. He is actively forging new connections with people around the issue of porn addiction. He is moving towards health.

That is why Eli Nash is my new hero. I have boundless admiration for a person who conquers his shame in pursuit of health.

You go, Eli. You've got this!

The Internal Debate

Honesty, again.

This topic haunts me. Because, as Batsheva Shomer, I cannot be completely honest. I can share from a select few topics, which, I grant, could be plenty. But I cannot share from the topics closest to my heart. And that just about flattens me. It makes me wonder if I ought to be blogging anonymously. At least in anonymous form, I could share the real deal - the stuff that people might relate to. But as an anonymous poster, how honest would such posts be, even if the topics were genuine?

So it's a complicated bind I'm in, from a 'values' perspective. If honesty is my goal, and connection my pursuit, which path ought I travel?

Truth

Truth. Honesty. These are values I cherish. I like to consider myself an honest person, and a seeker of truth.

I wrote something recently - a novel. This was a book I'd begun writing ten years ago. I hit a block in the story, and this block put the novel on the shelf until a month or two ago. That was when I realized that the main character ought to be a girl, not a guy. I was ecstatic. Finally, I'd be able to write the book as it was meant to be!

I did, in fact, write the book. I sent it then to my sister, whose review came back scathing. She was upset that in changing the character to female, I'd also changed the character. According to her, my female protagonist came off as weak, unconfident, and uninteresting, where the male character had been intriguing, sarcastic, and totally composed. I was shattered by her comments. I felt like she was putting my own personality through the grinder. At some point in the conversation, she asked if she was being too harsh, and I, true to my values, replied, "There's no such thing as too much honesty."

But is that the case?

I was conflicted. Emotionally, I felt that the critique was too much for me. I didn't know how to shoulder the hurt and move on. However, the cooler part of my mind did recognize truth in her words.  I saw at once that she had a point, that I could write the character better, and that doing so would only improve the story. Accepting that felt like passing kidney stones. It was true. I hated it. But I did not wish it unsaid.

So what is it about truth? Is it the universal, correct path? I find it hard to imagine a marriage surviving on pure, unadulterated truth. I do not condone a relationship based on dishonesty. However, I do believe that in the interests of love, not all truths must be said.

These are my thoughts. I don't have any clarity on the topic. Ironically, it seems that like most concepts, truth is not a black-and-white issue.