blah de blah

confuseThis blog used to be a place of oversharing. Now it’s a place of quiet. I’m boring you! I’m boring myself. My position on radical transparency has changed. It’s not the narcissistic exhibitionism that I don’t like. Or the fear of giving up my “original” thoughts — cause we all come across the good ones at the same time. Am fine with all of that (clearly). It’s the din. The loud and mounting din that I am conflicted about adding to. So much waste waste waste.

Or, maybe it’s a crisis of confidence. What happened? Where did my desire go? My drive? The idea that I could contribute something worthwhile and different? It’s there somewhere, I just need to dig it back out.

I am open, an optimist. Pretty open but hell when I hear people pitching things, ideas, business stuff I think holy hells you have no imagination people. It’s all the same. The same bullshit over and over and over. Perhaps I’m projecting. Or maybe it all is hackneyed, recycled crap.

Could it be disappointment in my own lack of creative output? Output output. Can your contribution be in the flow of your interactions? They way you relate to people in the world? What you inspire? What you give? Does it have to be tangible stuff? I guess that’s what leaders do. And you don’t have to have a big title to be a leader. You just have to be someone who cares, and who has influence, and who makes good things happen.

Lately the idea that we’re in different dimensions, speaking and understanding different things. Formulaic, linear uniform stuff turns me off off off. Robotic thinking. Traditional grammar and sentence structures. The patterns. The templates. They don’t work right anymore. Linear is the way we understand, the structure, the identifiable. But it’s lame. Predictable, and inadequate for this world. For how we now need to talk and think. How to marry the worlds. The jumpy, the allover world of allover substance with our very human, innate need for form. Thesis and avenues is so ninth grade.

My junior year at Notre Dame I was on an intellectual high. I was deep in my subject matter and doing really creative, interesting papers. In particular there was a paper on Beowulf … I wrote about the metaphor of the house. It was broad and thematic with sweeping mental leaps. The first time I dared to generalize on such a grand scale. It went against all the things I had learned before. It felt risky. But it also felt smart and fortunately my professor agreed. I continued to do it, until eventually I did it for a living. People would send me voluminous amounts of data – numbers, balance sheets, analyses. And I would weave it all together into a story with meaning.

It’s easy when you are talking about the past and the present. But when you are talking about TK, the unknown, it is really tough, as I am currently experiencing. I know that I am on the path, I have the right idea but I have not yet found the right structure, the right means of communicating. That is incredibly frustrating. A person without words. Like a child before he can speak. The grunting, the sounds. Before it all comes together. In each dimension you have to start new. You revert to babyhood, without the words.

Am I making any sense?

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No Comment
  • kris, very thoughtful and inspirational. thank you!

  • Brady

    Tuesday morning pot party?

  • kristina

    In Bob Dylan’s first volume of his memoirs, he wrote that the lyrics he wrote as a young man he couldn’t imagine writing today, that his creative imagination had been so free that brilliant, unexpected images and thoughts just came tumbling out. That resonated with me, as I remember writing the same kinds of papers you talk about, when (seemingly original) ideas and expressing them was somehow easier.

    I guess I am saying, maybe it is related to the hubris of youth. I think as we get older it is more of a struggle, there are layers of corporate marketing speak, fatigue from life’s obligations, time wasted due to being on hold with Comcast, that end up taking up much of our time. It IS all recycled chaff, if we are totally reductive in our thinking, at least.

    I guess that is why, as we get older, the key is to press on even if it seems harder and we lack the same delusions of grandeur. Where writing is concerned, I have more experience and more to “say” as I get older, but I approach it more gingerly and sometimes not at all. Our generation is so distracted as well – the discipline and dedication required to really keep growing in these areas requires day to day sacrifices many of us don’t end up making.

    Life is recycled chaff, but it’s our chaff, and any one of us can rededicate ourselves at any moment, we just now know how much that demands.

  • John in IL

    What next? The Wednesday Morning Dance Party?

  • superdave524

    Well, you’re not boring me, anyway. Sometimes you have fresh stuff; sometimes you don’t. Doesn’t matter. Your place is still a nice place to visit. I remember when Dave Barry retired from his daily column. I felt abandoned, a little. He wrote that he was repeating himself and had nothing new to say. Maybe. Still, I was disappointed. So, what’s the answer? Maybe the English can save the day. Okay, maybe There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done. But you got to carry on. So, what do you do? When that eloquence escapes you?. Sting can tell you.

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