I’ve been a Dutch Marine for 3 years. Thirty years ago, and I still feel it. I still feel it, but not in a negative way. If I talk to an old colleague about the old days, we often also talk about what we do now and how we both miss the time when teamwork meant teamwork. As a Marine, you don’t have to tell your buddy to cover your ass; you know he does, just like any other member of the team; they all know what to do and what is expected.
The reason why we trained so hard to reach that level of cooperation is, of course, the danger that can be part of the job. I understand that, but I feel it is still part of me after 30 years. I often had and have too high of an expectation of the teams I worked in or led. I know that danger is not coming from the door in the corner of the office, but why don’t they close it when they know it’s a fire door? It sounds like a tiny thing, but for me, it is still a principle: attention to detail; in a combat situation, neglecting what is expected can harm you and others. I also understand the people who wonder why I bother; they have probably never bothered about things just outside of their reach. I have learned over the years to care less, but it eats at me.
373 Arrogance. -There is nothing against which we should guard more carefully than against the growth of the weed that is called arrogance and that spoils all we reap; for there is an arrogance in affection, in signs of respect, in benevolent familiarity, in caresses, in friendly advice, in admission of errors, in pity for others, and all these beautiful things arouse repugnance if that weed sprouts among them. An arrogant person, that is, anyone who wants to seem more important than he is or is considered to be, always miscalculates. To be sure, he has a momentary success in his favor, insofar as those people in whose presence he behaves arrogantly generally pay him the degree of honor that he demands, whether out of fear or indolence; but they take a terrible revenge for this by subtracting exactly as much from the value that they previously ascribed to him as there is excess in the amount that he has demanded. There is nothing for which people make us pay more dearly than humiliating them. An arrogant person can make his genuinely great merit so suspect and so small in the eyes of others that they trample it into the dust.-Even a proud demeanor is something that we should allow ourselves only where we can be quite certain not to be misunderstood or to be considered arrogant, in front of friends or wives, for example. For there is no greater folly in our relations with other people than acquiring a reputation for being arrogant; it is even worse than not having learned how to tell lies politely.
Poetry is sane because it floats easily in an infinite sea; reason seeks to cross the infinite sea and so make it finite. The result is mental exhaustion. To accept everything is an exercise, to understand everything a strain. Gilbert K. Chesterton
487 The passion for things. -Anyone who directs his passion toward things (sciences, the public welfare, cultural interests, arts) takes much of the fire away from his passion for people (even when they are representatives of those things, as statesmen, philosophers, artists are the representatives of their creations).
Is it possible to ever let go? To untie yourself from yourself. To not think the way you always do. Turn a switch and change, even if only for a second or two.
Of course not. Every reaction has an action before it; change in your life does not happen in a vacuum and can not be commanded. It is impossible not to be yourself, and even if you take a leap, you will most certainly land on the other side as yourself again.
If you want to change, you could change your surroundings. Meeting new people is often an excellent way to confirm your choices or to get infected by new ones. And when you’re stuck in one place, alone, then read a book, one you wouldn’t usually choose, one recommended by someone you respect or who rubs you the wrong way.
Changing your mind takes work. When you are 16, you do it every week; when you are old, maybe just the second before you die. And if it is not your age that holds you from changing or changing too much, it might be your family, friends, the person sleeping next to you, or the country you live in.
But just moving to another country or divorcing is not the cure that brings you change. The things around you might change, but do they change enough? Do you fall in love again with that person you imagined you had met before? Do you wake up next to the same person because you see all of them like that? A thing.
Change is difficult, even if you want it. Not many people want to put in the effort, and we expect change to happen by demanding it from others or through shortcuts we want to believe. They say that we are formed for a large part in our early years. When you are three, change is happening all the time, and it just happened. You get moved around, presented with food you don’t know, and wear clothes you have never seen before. All this change was forced upon you and hopefully done with love, making you feel good. Now, you have to do it all alone, and you don’t know how and stick with what you know. Longing for someone who tells you, but most of the time, that is you; the choice is often between what you already know all too well.
It is like the free will problem. If we had it, we could all just change our minds and change. We are all stuck in a particular past and body, and these two determine for the most who we are. Making unexpected friends or reading a new book might notch you off, off your trajectory, but knowing that you encounter something new is the big challenge. You have to learn to recognize what is new, and the best way to do that is to keep it close and not at a distance.
Nochrisis 