A failure?
They say it is better to have tried and failed, than to have failed to try. But at which point do you know you have tried enough and have failed? And how do you know you have tried hard enough? Or is that even a parameter to consider?
I have very little tools to deal with the discomfort I experience when faced with the global injustice that pervades our world. It is a personal sense of injustice that is based on my upbringing, and that seems normal to so many. Why do I care so much, when so many couldn't care less?
I've tried to make everything I do either explicitly about me, or then explicitly not about me. In my meditative days, it was all about me and my sense of connectedness to the universe at large. I felt I could see through people, feel their pain, and engage with things that were way beyond my self. In those days, I felt good as soon as I simply retreated from the world, withdrawing into my personal space, my private aloneness.
But I stepped back out into the world, feeling there was still something I had left undone - something I should do in this lifetime.
And I let this project enter my blood flow, slowly taking me over from within, slowly permeating each part of my being as one more day passed by. I look around me and am divided by two very different sets of emotions: one admires each person I encounter for the things they have done in their lives, for what they have achieved, for their courage, their determination, their life, no matter how insignificant it may appear to be. That is the fundamental approach I cultivated during my meditative days.
Then there is the other side of the coin. On that opposing spectrum I am appalled by how little people actually care, know, dare, see, hear. I am angry with the state of the world because I know somewhere deep within me that if we just tried a little bit harder, everything would be so much better. If we listened a little bit more, if we were a little less self-centered, if we cared just that bit more, then, certainly, we wouldn't live as we do, as if we were entitled to the things that happened to be around when we happened to be born on this planet that happens to support life in a universe that happens to exist.
I swing between absolute Love towards each and every being, and utter contempt towards all of humanity.
I look around myself and see shoddy work everywhere, people getting by by doing the least possible and caring only about their own personal umbilical cord. I am frightened of them, their judgement, their power over the course of my Life, their whimsical decision-making, and their ignorance.
So I try to pass unnoticed. It worked for me in school, high-school, and then wherever I worked after that. If you do as you are told and don't make a fuss, people will let you do whatever you would like to do. Or be kind, considerate, and gentle, and people will not see you as a threat and will let you get on with whatever it is that you were trying to do. It's been the only way I've known how to manage life. In fact, it still is the only way I know how to manage Life.
Every time I get angry, bad things seem to come out of it. So I try to see the options, the opportunities, the lessons to be learned from every situation that may otherwise seem impossible, unjust, unhealthy, unmanageable.
And I try to listen to my own, very personal sense of well-being. I've trawled through enough bad relationships kept up only to fit into a societal norm to know that it is of no use to go against one's own sense of well-being. Going against your own self only leads you astray, into trouble, into making the wrong decisions, into forcing you to face situations that were never considered as desirable.
I like to think I try hard, no matter what happens in my Life. I try hard not just to do what needs to be done, but to be a good person, to listen to that internal sense of justice, of what is fair, what is good, and what is to be avoided. I regret and feel bad about mistakes I do, bad judgement calls, rushed decisions. I feel bad for being angry, for losing sight of what lay ahead of me, of my options, and the opportunities that each situation presents.
And so I sit here, wondering what to do next.
I feel responsible, through and through, about the Mongolians failing to get their visas for the UK. There is not a hint of doubt in my mind that it was my fault, completely, totally, and utterly. I underestimated how difficult it would be for Mongolians to get a visa (not only to the UK, but to Chile, and Peru). How could I have been so stupid to think it was just a question of applying and hoping for the best?
I am ashamed of how unprepared I was for what was needed to help them in the process, ashamed to believe that my simple letter of sponsorship would be enough, ashamed that I wasn't able to get the flight tickets in time, nor book accommodation to give them a more viable address.
As much as I could be angry at the entire system that randomly lets ones born in certain countries travel and others not, I am, in the end, angry with myself for having been so naive as to trust that my goodwill would carry things forth, when I have 31 years of experience of the contrary.
You can't let one hiccup lead to the death of something that's been living within you for years - that's how I see the situation. One set of visas refused? Oh well, there's still plenty to go for, right?
So, I pour more money into the whole, say, and apply for the next visas, appeal this decision, and then still don't get a visa? Then what? Then I've spent yet more money into doing something that isn't even guaranteed to succeed - except in my mind.
This isn't even my area of expertise! What was I thinking? Thrusting myself into a project everyone seems to think is a good idea just because I have (had) the financial means to?
So, I want to give up. Raise my hands in the air, and say "you do it" ...
And then what?
And then I sit in my garden, planting things, weeding others, watching the seasons fly by, while knowing I tried to do something I really cared about but gave up at the first hurdle? I can't do that.
But how do I know what is the next right step?
My gut feeling seems to shift with every piece of information - I am floating in the middle of an ocean of options and I have no compass to help me. I don't know where I am going and I don't know how to get there.
The sense of relief that came over me when they didn't get their visas was unexpected.
I suppose it tells me at least one of two things: that I was stressed and not sure as to how things were going. I wish I had more help. I wish I was tougher, able to make decisions without worrying how they affect those I am dealing with. I wish I cared less.
I was frantically counting down the days to my departure, each passing moment as if lost in an endless scramble to get things done without crushing myself into insanity. Now I am relaxed. I was so terrified of failure that being faced with it feels good, takes the pressure off.
I say I don't know what to do next, but deep down I think I do.
I'm just afraid of making decisions that will cost me more money, and force me to make decisions that will affect those I try to work with.
It's easier to work for someone else, with other people, than to be the one who decides.
It's easier to say "I tried and failed" than to face the fact that I simply didn't try hard enough yet.
I have very little tools to deal with the discomfort I experience when faced with the global injustice that pervades our world. It is a personal sense of injustice that is based on my upbringing, and that seems normal to so many. Why do I care so much, when so many couldn't care less?
I've tried to make everything I do either explicitly about me, or then explicitly not about me. In my meditative days, it was all about me and my sense of connectedness to the universe at large. I felt I could see through people, feel their pain, and engage with things that were way beyond my self. In those days, I felt good as soon as I simply retreated from the world, withdrawing into my personal space, my private aloneness.
But I stepped back out into the world, feeling there was still something I had left undone - something I should do in this lifetime.
And I let this project enter my blood flow, slowly taking me over from within, slowly permeating each part of my being as one more day passed by. I look around me and am divided by two very different sets of emotions: one admires each person I encounter for the things they have done in their lives, for what they have achieved, for their courage, their determination, their life, no matter how insignificant it may appear to be. That is the fundamental approach I cultivated during my meditative days.
Then there is the other side of the coin. On that opposing spectrum I am appalled by how little people actually care, know, dare, see, hear. I am angry with the state of the world because I know somewhere deep within me that if we just tried a little bit harder, everything would be so much better. If we listened a little bit more, if we were a little less self-centered, if we cared just that bit more, then, certainly, we wouldn't live as we do, as if we were entitled to the things that happened to be around when we happened to be born on this planet that happens to support life in a universe that happens to exist.
I swing between absolute Love towards each and every being, and utter contempt towards all of humanity.
I look around myself and see shoddy work everywhere, people getting by by doing the least possible and caring only about their own personal umbilical cord. I am frightened of them, their judgement, their power over the course of my Life, their whimsical decision-making, and their ignorance.
So I try to pass unnoticed. It worked for me in school, high-school, and then wherever I worked after that. If you do as you are told and don't make a fuss, people will let you do whatever you would like to do. Or be kind, considerate, and gentle, and people will not see you as a threat and will let you get on with whatever it is that you were trying to do. It's been the only way I've known how to manage life. In fact, it still is the only way I know how to manage Life.
Every time I get angry, bad things seem to come out of it. So I try to see the options, the opportunities, the lessons to be learned from every situation that may otherwise seem impossible, unjust, unhealthy, unmanageable.
And I try to listen to my own, very personal sense of well-being. I've trawled through enough bad relationships kept up only to fit into a societal norm to know that it is of no use to go against one's own sense of well-being. Going against your own self only leads you astray, into trouble, into making the wrong decisions, into forcing you to face situations that were never considered as desirable.
I like to think I try hard, no matter what happens in my Life. I try hard not just to do what needs to be done, but to be a good person, to listen to that internal sense of justice, of what is fair, what is good, and what is to be avoided. I regret and feel bad about mistakes I do, bad judgement calls, rushed decisions. I feel bad for being angry, for losing sight of what lay ahead of me, of my options, and the opportunities that each situation presents.
And so I sit here, wondering what to do next.
I feel responsible, through and through, about the Mongolians failing to get their visas for the UK. There is not a hint of doubt in my mind that it was my fault, completely, totally, and utterly. I underestimated how difficult it would be for Mongolians to get a visa (not only to the UK, but to Chile, and Peru). How could I have been so stupid to think it was just a question of applying and hoping for the best?
I am ashamed of how unprepared I was for what was needed to help them in the process, ashamed to believe that my simple letter of sponsorship would be enough, ashamed that I wasn't able to get the flight tickets in time, nor book accommodation to give them a more viable address.
As much as I could be angry at the entire system that randomly lets ones born in certain countries travel and others not, I am, in the end, angry with myself for having been so naive as to trust that my goodwill would carry things forth, when I have 31 years of experience of the contrary.
You can't let one hiccup lead to the death of something that's been living within you for years - that's how I see the situation. One set of visas refused? Oh well, there's still plenty to go for, right?
So, I pour more money into the whole, say, and apply for the next visas, appeal this decision, and then still don't get a visa? Then what? Then I've spent yet more money into doing something that isn't even guaranteed to succeed - except in my mind.
This isn't even my area of expertise! What was I thinking? Thrusting myself into a project everyone seems to think is a good idea just because I have (had) the financial means to?
So, I want to give up. Raise my hands in the air, and say "you do it" ...
And then what?
And then I sit in my garden, planting things, weeding others, watching the seasons fly by, while knowing I tried to do something I really cared about but gave up at the first hurdle? I can't do that.
But how do I know what is the next right step?
My gut feeling seems to shift with every piece of information - I am floating in the middle of an ocean of options and I have no compass to help me. I don't know where I am going and I don't know how to get there.
The sense of relief that came over me when they didn't get their visas was unexpected.
I suppose it tells me at least one of two things: that I was stressed and not sure as to how things were going. I wish I had more help. I wish I was tougher, able to make decisions without worrying how they affect those I am dealing with. I wish I cared less.
I was frantically counting down the days to my departure, each passing moment as if lost in an endless scramble to get things done without crushing myself into insanity. Now I am relaxed. I was so terrified of failure that being faced with it feels good, takes the pressure off.
I say I don't know what to do next, but deep down I think I do.
I'm just afraid of making decisions that will cost me more money, and force me to make decisions that will affect those I try to work with.
It's easier to work for someone else, with other people, than to be the one who decides.
It's easier to say "I tried and failed" than to face the fact that I simply didn't try hard enough yet.