I always cringe at the practically inevitable “What gives you hope?” at the end of an interview, and then double-cringe at the, “Well, I’m an optimist at heart~” that so often follows.
Here are two tidbits I’ve come across recently offer some anti-cringeworthy, if you will, responses which I will be savoring.
In the days following our high school graduation, my friends and I sat in a circle on a patch of lawn beside the school’s science wing where so many memories were made, feeling the weight of going our separate ways and savouring the last moments of normalcy. One of us suggested that we go around the circle brainstorming/imagining each others’ futures–where would so-and-so be in 10 years time? For some, we could unanimously envision specific accomplishments and lifestyles. Other futures provoked theory and debate, or teasing and banter.
My future? It drew blanks.
Before it happened, I simultaneously (a) fantasized about and (b) dreaded finding out what kind of adult I would become.
(a) I fantasized because, observing the adult world had been a marathon of “I would never do/care/like that when I become and adult!” and now I FINALLY get to make my own choices and be the adult I have always told myself I would become.
(b) I dreaded it because, in amassing a list of mantras, faux-pas, instructions on how (not) to be an adult (dedicated to adult debbie, courtesy of childhood debbie), I imposed on myself the herculean burden of becoming the adult that my childhood self would have looked up to.
There is a core idea I try to live by that I couldn’t quite put into words… until this one summer afternoon some two years ago when I discovered Erich Fromm in a second-hand bookstore in Canmore. It so happens that Erich Fromm had already put into words my impressions and intuitions in his succinct little book, the Art of Loving … before even my mother was conceived.
An organized mind is a way to my heart. In this respect, The Art of Loving had me at “Table of Contents” …
“The words of the wise heard in quiet are better than the shouting of a ruler among fools.” – Ecclesiastes 9:17
“Even a fool who keeps silent is considered wise; when he closes his lips, he is deemed intelligent.” – Proverbs 17:28
Both insecurity and dignity manifest themselves as quietness.
Quiet confidence is more attractive than loud confidence.
Quietness without confidence is self-interested, self-conscious.
Confidence without quietness is self-interested, self-promoting.
One with quiet confidence has the capacity to consider another:
security in One’s identity yields mental capacity to consider another;
silence yields physical capacity to hear The Other.
Activism is most admirable complemented with quiet activism.
The loudest activism is paramount when One advocates for another,
thereafter, One ought to assume quiet activism as a way of life.
Quiet activism is living with integrity.
Quiet activism is living in the world as if the world is already as it ought to be:
not locking your bike because the world ought not to need locks at all.
Quiet activism is turning the other cheek.
Back in the day, I desired to replace my awkwardness with charisma.
These days, I desire to transform my awkward silence to comfortable silence.