Navel-gazing X 2
There's been an awful lot going on inside my head lately that hasn't made its way into my journal. I always wind up a little maudlin and introspective over the holidays, and this year perhaps more than most, due to the unexpected reappearance of my brother. Recently, my thoughts have been revolving around two central themes.
Theme the first: I am incredibly lucky to have such good friends. From a few random internet acquaintances, I've grown a base of local and long-distance friends that astound me daily with their caring, wit, humor, and variety. (Yes, I'm talking about all of you.) I'd have a lot more lonely, mopey weekends sitting around by myself if it weren't for sfw_dc & Spouse and wayward_va. And my lunch breaks at work would be a lot more boring without the rest of you to keep up with.
And somehow, despite my atrocious tendency to not keep in touch with people over time, I've maintained a lifelong friendship with A., and having him and his wife nearby over the last couple of years has been so wonderful. I'm still getting to know his wife, D., but I'm certainly enjoying the process. A. ... well, I've talked about him enough in the past. He's been part of my chosen family since we were in college together, and having him nearby and getting to spend time with him and his family is such a treat.
I'm not sure how I've managed this, because I don't count myself as being particularly good at establishing and maintaining relationships. I'm a pretty reserved person, and there's usually a lot more going on for me emotionally than I ever talk about with people. I don't have a lot of social energy, and I often feel like I take more than I give in friendships, but somehow all these people like having me around on a regular basis. How did that happen?
Theme the second: The whole mutiny plot twist in our D&D adventure has gotten me noodling around with my notions of personal honor and responsibility. This is nothing new, because my internal monologue frequently centers on those themes, or at least, it has in the last decade or so. There's a sort of slowly evolving definition of personal honor in the back of my mind at all times. The focus changes over time, but I find myself consistently holding all of my actions up against that definition to make sure they fit.
One of the central ideas that I've struggled with over time and only recently managed to articulate to myself is this: When given a choice between doing the easy thing and doing the right thing, an honorable person chooses the right thing. (All the usual caveats about personal definitions of right and wrong and There Is No One True Way apply, however.)
That sounds so simple, but it's the way in which I'm most likely to fall short of my own ethical standards, and it seems to be at the core of many, if not most, of the conflicts I've had with other people over ethical behavior. When doing the right thing is easy, there's no ethical conflict. When doing the easy thing is right, or at least neutral, there's no ethical conflict. But the moments that define a person's honor, in my opinion, are when he or she faces the choice between doing something right, and doing something easy.
I'm not sure why this is bubbling to the surface now, but it's providing an interesting lens with which to view past events in my life, and an even more interesting framework to think about building on in the future.
Theme the first: I am incredibly lucky to have such good friends. From a few random internet acquaintances, I've grown a base of local and long-distance friends that astound me daily with their caring, wit, humor, and variety. (Yes, I'm talking about all of you.) I'd have a lot more lonely, mopey weekends sitting around by myself if it weren't for sfw_dc & Spouse and wayward_va. And my lunch breaks at work would be a lot more boring without the rest of you to keep up with.
And somehow, despite my atrocious tendency to not keep in touch with people over time, I've maintained a lifelong friendship with A., and having him and his wife nearby over the last couple of years has been so wonderful. I'm still getting to know his wife, D., but I'm certainly enjoying the process. A. ... well, I've talked about him enough in the past. He's been part of my chosen family since we were in college together, and having him nearby and getting to spend time with him and his family is such a treat.
I'm not sure how I've managed this, because I don't count myself as being particularly good at establishing and maintaining relationships. I'm a pretty reserved person, and there's usually a lot more going on for me emotionally than I ever talk about with people. I don't have a lot of social energy, and I often feel like I take more than I give in friendships, but somehow all these people like having me around on a regular basis. How did that happen?
Theme the second: The whole mutiny plot twist in our D&D adventure has gotten me noodling around with my notions of personal honor and responsibility. This is nothing new, because my internal monologue frequently centers on those themes, or at least, it has in the last decade or so. There's a sort of slowly evolving definition of personal honor in the back of my mind at all times. The focus changes over time, but I find myself consistently holding all of my actions up against that definition to make sure they fit.
One of the central ideas that I've struggled with over time and only recently managed to articulate to myself is this: When given a choice between doing the easy thing and doing the right thing, an honorable person chooses the right thing. (All the usual caveats about personal definitions of right and wrong and There Is No One True Way apply, however.)
That sounds so simple, but it's the way in which I'm most likely to fall short of my own ethical standards, and it seems to be at the core of many, if not most, of the conflicts I've had with other people over ethical behavior. When doing the right thing is easy, there's no ethical conflict. When doing the easy thing is right, or at least neutral, there's no ethical conflict. But the moments that define a person's honor, in my opinion, are when he or she faces the choice between doing something right, and doing something easy.
I'm not sure why this is bubbling to the surface now, but it's providing an interesting lens with which to view past events in my life, and an even more interesting framework to think about building on in the future.