Becoming something…

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“You emerge victoriously from the maze you’ve been traveling in.”

Life sure does feel like a maze, does it not? Wandering looking for the right direction, knowing at any moment we might walk right into a wall. The worst part is that we are often doomed to back-track. At best, we find ourselves busting through the wall but only to find ourselves lost again, with little frame of reference. It is part pre-determined and part under your control.

There is no alternative to being yourself. I think mostly it has to do with your attitude along the way.

You have experienced parts of the maze behind you, but not all of it. Has it shaped you? A product of our experiences or not, we have got to start listening to the scale to which we define ourselves. The confusing reality is, often the walls are miles apart and filled with millions of people. Life isn’t long enough to assume you can deduce the way out through guess and check. The cheese might not be as close or as far as you think. Without tangible walls to give a sense of direction or a map to the maze ahead (or the one being built), why are we full of this concern. You can define ‘this’ how you like, but even if the concern is not to have one, what is it in context to?

We often look to our most local of mazes through which we see ourselves traveling, forgetting the immensity of the one we are actually in.

Leave your home, find your car (or the nearest bus stop), and think about how well you seem to navigate the most local of mazes. You are probably doing just fine along life’s maze. Stop looking for the walls, looking for the end, and fearing the retracing of steps. Otherwise, the cheese won’t have a smell anymore and your sense of direction will be localized to the smaller of life’s mazes. Because the local maze you might be stuck in, is the one inside your head.

“You emerge victoriously from the maze you’ve been traveling in.”

Don’t create context, walls to define yourself against. Self, defined, is limited to the scale of what you define it against. There is no alternative to being yourself, amidst walls you can’t see and contexts you can’t begin to define.

Are adults made? A recent article by Kay Hymowitz from City Journal suggests something about young men today in our society:

Today’s single young men hang out in a hormonal limbo between adolescence and adulthood.

Child-Man in the Promised Land by Kay S. Hymowitz, City Journal Winter 2008

The suggestion is that for various social reasons, we are bypassing the previous generations’ milestone of marriage and a family when we supposedly begin our adult lives with the start of our careers. That first main job and first step now equals independence. Am I socially stunted, stuck in a culturally locked puberty (video games, the internet, and career changes)? I’m not in college anymore and much of that activity has gone by the wayside. There isn’t much like the structure of a full-time job, other personal pursuits, and a growing long-term relationship to have other things take favor. Yet, I still long for the long nights, long papers, and long haphazard days.

My relationship and new job is the cornerstone to a growing foundation that I think is moving me beyond this immature middle ground. Priorities change and whether or not I like to admit it, I’m heavily invested in both. This is by choice. This implies that this stage is under our own self-control. Is it important to take action?

Action would be contrary to what is rewarded in our culture; action which requires forward thinking loses to the many short-term excited battles our cultures supports. How can the weekend (or even every day) be one of exciting battles if you are settled into a life track, one long battle with something or short ones with quick feedback and results? Immediate gratification is clearly our cultural winner. It usually takes an event or emotional commitment to be able to recognize the importance of the former, long-term action, possibly to just return back afterwards.

Even today, they say SYM (Single Young Males), Hymowitz’s term, or this millennial generation in general is distracted by many new things, a world of instant gratification. Take your college life for example.

[Jones, S] (2002) indicated that 72% of all students check their email daily, and 26% of college students use instant messaging on an average day. A similar survey in 2005 found that 83% of adults in the 18-29 age range participate in online activities [Demographics of Internet Users] (2007 ).

Digital-Distractions

We learned in and with this environment. Conveniences have become crutches.

So what of women? I don’t necessarily think they are excluded from this phenomenon but they sure are talking about it. The child-man article continues,

In Internet chat rooms, in advice columns, at female water-cooler confabs, and in the pages of chick lit, the words “immature” and “men” seem united in perpetuity…Men feel threatened by female empowerment, these thinkers argue, and in their anxiety, they cling to outdated roles.

Child-Man in the Promised Land by Kay S. Hymowitz, City Journal Winter 2008

The CEO phenomenon is one example of the ever growing worth and exchange value of a single individual. Females with this power, on this scale, is historically rare; they have a right to enjoy it, even in the face of the above mentioned masculine uncertainty. It would be wrong to not point out that only twelve of Fortune 500 companies are headed by female CEOs, which debunks Hymowitz’s argument above.

I’m not sure if I see it as gender specific because I feel like many women face the the same cultural pressures that us males do.

Are these trends any different from the activities of young women who are often unwilling to surrender personal freedoms to be “shackled” by motherhood? The Sex and the City generation who see marriage as an anchor and drag on their personal lives, who embrace disposable relationships and are obsessed with designer clothing?

Editorial: Beware the Child-Man?

I’ll admit my cravings and notice that I see many peers expressing their freedom. I even would go as far to say, because of a different social experience in my youth while dealing with my sexuality, I am even more immature in certain areas. My immaturity is supported. More than ever we are rewarded for growth of self and not of family or relationships if it is in the way.

So, do we continue because we can?

We all may need to read more, converse more, and look at how thin we are spread in our social world (especially if it’s virtual). I keep wondering if I should be focusing harder or caring less? I am not a SYM, the relationship disqualifies me of that title, but the cute voices on my shoulders are both telling me that the SYM life is calling. Most of us now have the freedom to develop in the context of something, say a relationship, or develop outside of that structure.

The child-man, gay-infant, and adult-girl are real. Stuck playing video games, exploring deep relationships for the first time, and keeping time with image and power, we are our own segment of society. We will become a generation around it. It feels good, but I feel detached. Our 30s will come soon, but should our goal be to cum as much as possible before it does?

Adults don’t emerge. They’re made.

Child-Man in the Promised Land by Kay S. Hymowitz, City Journal Winter 2008

This entry is coming from an interesting experience I had yesterday. Shedding light on my cultural background and growth I realized that your environment can really influence impulses. I found myself wondering why I picked oranges over minorities.

I’d just enjoyed some nice gulps of water, post workout. I was waiting for my fair weather friend to change. I say fair weather because she ditched driving me home because the roads were getting poor and I was left to wait for a fair weather bus that was a cycle late. I digress. While waiting, I looked at a photo representing the writing/academic center for the campus I work on. I noticed something peculiar. What do you notice?

I saw oranges. I was so tickled by my discovery that I asked the same question of miss fair weather. Turns out everyone is white in the photo, this being what she noticed. Stumped, I asked her to look harder. By time the oranges were of mutual discovery, she was antsy to leave and I was fumbling for my own explanation of our differing perspectives.

Was it that I came from a college with beyond Caucasian diversity around 15% (not to mention other missing groups)? Was it that I don’t remember seeing much color in my suburban environment? Why did I choose oranges over minorities?

It hit me though, in one of those I got it before but now I really understand it kind of ways, that our life experiences are unique. Not only unique, but they are the molders of how you see the world. It was important to realize that all the education in the world hadn’t taught me to see, instead I was blind. We will see things differently, all of us. Your boss or supervisor that just doesn’t seem to make sense, probably isn’t doing it on purpose. This experiential intelligence is hard to measure because it has as much to do with how much you experience as it does with the quality and variety of an experience. In the work setting, the ability to recognize this is the biggest step in being able to manage up (7 ways to manage up or Managing Up: An Overlooked Factor in Career Success). In your personal life it can help relationships grow and drama dwindle.

Can we challenge ourselves to see things differently? If you saw white people, begin looking for the oranges, and vice versa. I think too often we find ourselves in conversations where we are more concerned about the other person not seeing the oranges that you did. Instead, why not notice that they saw something different and wonder why you didn’t see it at all.

Life is one big learning opportunity. If you aren’t listening you might just always end up with a bunch of white people or oranges for that matter.

I recently saw the musical Avenue Q on Broadway. A great show.

There is a scene where a male and female face silhouette on a T.V. screen have words come out of their mouths and move towards each other. The guy is saying, “come,” and the girl is saying, “mitment.” The guy initially sexual and intense as the girl goes from calm to frustrated. They eventually say, “commitment,” in unison.

It is true, commitment is about being in unison. It is also about combining different interests.

Always know that what is on the table isn’t just what you are bringing to it. What is the mitment to your come? What is the come to your mittment?

What a waste of time?

or was it?

Years seem to fly by these days and with each year coming the transition into the next also seems to have much more philosophical baggage with it. I’m holding onto a lot, happy about a lot, and getting over a bunch of things. The new year allows for a big sigh of relief and a chance to motion, with a toast, everything into “that was last year”. It honestly feels like one of the only moments each year where it’s relatively easy to live in the moment. A few drinks down and a count down away from closing a book and opening a new one at the same time.

What is next?
Are we sad it’s over or happy for what is next?

Maybe, most importantly, this is a time to reflect. Treasure the space you have to yourself or the friends that are surrounding you. Time can slow for a moment as bubbles from your bubbly tickle your nose. Nothing else can be a greater lesson in learning how to live from book to book, year to year, and day to day. It’s a great chance to understand how to find joy, or live in the tough reality of a lifetime of transitions.

Is someone not there or something missing?
Who IS there? What did you get out of this past year?

Stop comparing yourself to dreams and actually work towards them. If you are the type to set out some resolutions, let your one resolution be to have none.

Look at your hands.
Look at your eyes in the mirror.
Tell yourself, this is the new year and I have already accomplished what I’m setting out to do.

I nearly killed myself in college to get straight A’s. Well, almost straight A’s. I graduated with 37 A’s and 3 B’s for a GPA of 3.921. At the time, I thought I was hot stuff. Now I wonder if it wasn’t a waste of time. Let me explain:

1. No one has ever asked about my GPA.
2. I didn’t sleep.
3. I’ve forgotten 95% of it.
4. I didn’t have time for people.
5. Work experience is more valuable.

-This post content is from Jon Morrow as posted on Penelope Trunk’s Brazen Careerist. His blog is On Moneymaking. Read it’s full content here.

Me: (I didn’t get straight As, but my only C was from study abroad. I too didn’t sleep much, but usually thanks to procrastination, or what I called “learning outside of the classroom”)

What are grades? The subjective and objective opinions of professors usually concerning your work for and within the classroom. Sometimes you get lucky (or not) and the professor considers yourself outside of the classroom in determining a grade. We know why we need them, or at least we think we do. Few other alternatives have been accepted, so why care?

From the day that grades were introduced to me (4th grade), partially the explanation of the “fourth grad slump” I learned about yesterday, I saw them as a personal indicator. Before that, looking back at my younger report cards, I remember thinking the higher the number the better (we used a number system before 4th grade). Those 2s, 3s, and 4s out of 5 always looked good to my younger self, the bigger the better. I still remember being placed on a more advanced track, thus the teacher recognized my ability despite my “poor” performance. It wasn’t until Junior year of high school that I detached grades, for the most part, from a system that was grading me as a person. This was good, but not good for my grades. There was a rebound and grades took on a mixed meaning in college as I learned of learning outside of the classroom as well.

So what is it? Doesn’t everyone learn differently? Many of the students that I am involved with right now spend their life in DSA (Division of Student Affairs), many times at the cost of their school work. Yet, they learn and exhibit extreme skill. There has been a trend in college these days to reincorporate “out of the classroom” experiences into the curriculum. Anything from service-learning, externships, to actual work experience counting as class credit. This was the topic covered while attending a conference in Seattle.

I love this trend.

So I say learn on! Yet as a graduate looking at graduate school, thinking of my career, working full-time, and trying to pursue my own interests while trying to make a difference, I still wonder if those grades represent my ability of thinking to learn or learning to think?

and the new tree we got over the weekend is so delightful and ominous. And since there’s no place to go, let it precipitate, let it precipitate, let it precipitate.

Snow fell and then rain slushified it, much like Michigan should, except this year it’s not exciting me as much as it normally does. I’ll admit that it looked nice on Ypsilanti’s streets as it seemed to give them reason to be empty. Yet, this year feels extremely different. Christmas music playing on the radio before Thanksgiving isn’t new but it is a constant reminder that something is new. This will be my first independent Christmas, the first time that my celebration will be divided between families and our own. The songs seem to hit a note that doesn’t convey cheer this year, but possibly fear.

I’ve been alone for the holiday season before, namely when I was on study abroad. Even then, because China didn’t celebrate it, we created our own version (thanks to goods sent from home) but could mostly ignored it. It was easy to because there wasn’t any type of build up surrounding me. Otherwise, I’ve been home for the holidays. We missed family Thanksgiving celebration this year because we were in China, a necessary holiday build-up. Now I sit looking at our beautiful new tree, decorated and purchased ourselves. Of course we will travel to our respective families’ houses for the festivities.

Each Christmas song is a reminder of my independence. Instead of being frustrated and depressed at my family’s home, I’m happily away. Yet, more than ever, this is the season in which I want to feel dependent on my old residence.

In what ways are you struggling with independence? Wasn’t the dream of independence a sweeter goal when it was proving something to your parents?