Pride is a messy concept, and I guess it makes for a somewhat messy blog category too (Shame, Self Worth, Confidence, anyone?).
Top dog on the list of Cardinal Sins (7 Deadly Sins), we hear premonitions about how Pride will lead to your downfall, etc. No one likes an arrogant big-headed jerk unless they are one, right?
That being said, I think there are many things one can do to cultivate a sense of pride in oneself, and that taken together, these (sometimes very small) things can be a powerful antidote to depression.
With this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Pride, of which this is the introductory post, where I will share my ideas and tips on how to cultivate a sense of pride in oneself.
For today, though, I’d like to go off track a little, stay more in the realm of the general, and discuss Humility.
There may be some people who think of humility as the converse of pride – who think the two are diametrically opposed.
I strongly disagree (though of course the terms themselves are pretty broad, and at a certain point it might just come to semantics). Let me explain:
For a while now, I’ve recognized an element of humility that I approach all of my endeavors with. This is somewhat difficult to explain, because on the one hand I tend to approach most things with the belief that I can conquer them, at least to a significant degree (and given a lot of hard work and a lot of time).
What I mean to convey is that I hold a tremendous respect, a reverence even, for the challenges I take on. Take acting, for example, a new pursuit of mine.
When I think of myself as an actor, I don’t think of myself as merely someone who is manipulating his body and his voice to achieve a certain desired effect, although that technically could be one way to define what an actor does.
No, I think much bigger than that. As an actor, I think of myself as someone who has the chance to uplift humanity. You know that magical feeling you get when you’re sitting in the theatre and you experience on the screen a moment so real, so true, it hits you strong, deep past just your immediate visual/auditory senses?
As an actor, I think of myself as one of many hopefuls – hopeful to one day earn the chance to create that feeling of magic.
And I am enormously proud to have this opportunity.
But I recognize that all of it together – all that is “Acting” – is far greater than any individual’s prowess or ability. (Even the mad skillz of Daniel Day Lewis. Damn he’s good.)
I recognize this when I think of all the people for whom going to the movies/theatre is their one chance for relief from the hardship of life – their chance for fantasy, for solace from reality. I think of all the brave artists who paved the way for this art form, who worked hard and gave their lives to set up the acting studios and share their expertise through books – to nurture the hopefuls like me. And I think of all the other actors out there who stake their lives on a dream (and wait tables or write on the side). And so on.
When I think about things in this “big picture” kind of way, I experience a tremendous feeling of humility.
And I draw tremendous strength from this humility.
It seems there are a lot of big name celebrities (and other people) these days who are pretty caught up in themselves. Some of these people seem to think they’re a personal incarnation of God.
I don’t actually have any problem with these people – if it helps them perform better to be a conceited asshole, fine by me. I don’t really give a shit, to be honest.
But what does strike me as pathetic about the celebrity God-complex is how much these people seem to rely on the spotlight for their self-worth. What happens if their gift or ability to perform is suddenly taken away (freak accident, etc)? What happens when they get old? When people stop constantly shoving microphones in their face and kissing their ass? What then?
These people have over-inflated senses of pride, and like with all over-inflated bubbles, something will eventually (inevitably) burst (see “Super Bubble”: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=90328243). Consequences often aren’t pretty.
If you ground yourself in humility, however, you are invincible to this kind of weakness.
Seriously, if I lost a limb in a car accident tomorrow (and that would pretty definitively preclude me from most roles, I’d say), I’d be pissed, probably even devastated, but my sense of self-worth, my sense of pride – I’m confident all of this would stay strong for me and remain intact. And that’s because I’m aware that in the grand scheme of things, I’m just one more hopeful actor in a slew of them, all of us playing one infinitesimally small role in the vast and illustrious history of all of theatre.
So what if things don’t pan out for me in particular? Things will go on w/o me, and I’ll channel my talents elsewhere.
Knowing I can handle this truth gives me incredible strength.
Humility gives me incredible strength.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s hard to develop this kind of mindset (it took me a long time). And as someone with a pocketful of dreams (shoutout to Alicia Keys), I know very well what it’s like to feel like you’re constantly in revolution on the inside – to feel that explosive desire for the chance to show the world what you’re made of.
But coming to terms with my own insignificance, and my own humility – that has been a great source of strength for me.
And I take great pride in the fact that I’m able to do it - able to stay humble - day in and day out. In my mind, that alone makes me a sweeter human being than a lot of the self-absorbed (sometimes even talented) people out there.
Recently, I started reading Oscar Wilde’s “De Profundis.” When I get the chance to finish it, I’ll put up a post on it (lots of good relevant stuff). But for now, I suggest that you listen to Fort Minor's "Remember the Name" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ska8_JAtL8)
Despite the song’s title, note how even someone w/the ghetto mentality can channel pride into loyalty (to one’s clique) and artistry, rather than money and status.
Note humility for opportunity.
Note how being humble does not preclude you from striving, and how it can actually serve as a strength and a source of pride.
Check back in for more on Pride! Future posts won't be this abstract, I promise…
-David
Showing posts with label Introductions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Introductions. Show all posts
Monday, February 8, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
On Problem Solving – Intro (Constant vigilance, serendipity, and freelance writing)
The other day I was walking down Princeton’s (somewhat) famed Nassau Street when I ran into a friend’s mother (shoutout to Suzanne and David Kinsey, and to their ever-so-familiar green plates and couch).
We were both on our ways, but we did stop for a brief exchange of words and kindness. I asked about the state of their kitchen (currently under reconstruction). And she asked about the state of my ventures, at the end of which she offered me the following advice:
“Whatever you do, take notes, because at your heart you’re a writer.”
After we parted ways, I played w/that thought in my mind.
At your heart you’re a writer.
Let me tell you something about having little (or no) money: You never stop thinking about it. (At least for me, maybe I’m just a wuss)
You question every purchase – Was this really necessary? Could I have borrowed this from someone?
You veto most purchases in the first place – Alright, this vending machine iced tea is only 1.25, but if I buy this now and then do the same thing 2 other days, that’s like a whole buffet lunch! No, no, I can’t cave…
Then you start running cost-benefit analyses involving subjective things, like time, and things get way complex. (And often self-justifying)
It’s really amazing the number of times you can run through the mental math and still harbor the hope that you should be able to hold out longer than you’ve calculated. You really start to empathize and identify with “creative accountants.”
Slippery slope, no?
The point is, “the money issue” runs through your mind constantly, taking up valuable mental RAM.
Is this really a good thing, given how much other stuff one always seems to have on one’s plate?
Actually, yes.
There are myriad factors that precipitate and contribute to depression.
Each factor represents one challenge for you to take on. Sometimes the factors are intertwined, so that by tackling one challenge, you simultaneously tackle another.
The important thing is to constantly apply yourself to solving these challenges. It doesn’t always have to be a big heroic struggle, but every single day you should do at least one small thing to make the day a little better. Don’t let a single day pass without.
Overcoming depression is to some extent just an exercise in problem-solving.
Effective problem-solving requires unceasing attention to the problem at hand. Even if you’re not thinking specifics, meditation on the problem yields invaluable, if sometimes intangible, benefits.
In the words of Alastor Moody, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!
In the car, in the shower, on a run, in an uninspiring class/meeting/whatever – these are all times for you to meditate on the issues and challenges that are important to you.
Don’t think rigidly – be creative.
In “The Golden Compass,” when Lyra is learning to use the alethiometer, Farder Coram tells her,
“One thing I do know, Lyra, you mustn’t grasp at the answer. Hold the question in your mind, but lightly, like it was something alive.”
Your question is a live one, and so are you, so think and act like it!
If you get some absurd ideas, don’t be afraid to follow through on some of them. Try them out! You won’t always get the result you want, but sometimes what you do get turns out to be even more valuable than what you were originally aiming for. If nothing else, you’ll have learned something, and perhaps you’ll get a fresh idea from your new experiences.
Hit your problems from every possible angle with everything you’ve got.
At your heart you are a writer.
I’d thought about being an (out-of-work) writer before. It seems if one is going to try to make a living from “occupations” that seem to champion unemployment (like I am), one might as well be unemployed in all of them simultaneously.
Although I have zero formal training, with hard work I have a feeling I could probably become an okay writer, and I really do get satisfaction from crafting meaning with words.
No, it was never the “out-of-work” aspect that bothered me about writing for a living. It was more the inability to achieve mass meaningful impact, at least for most writers, and at least for the type of writing that you can actually make a living off of.
There’s a reason it’s said about the difference between journalism and literature:
“The difference between literature and journalism is that journalism is unreadable, and literature is not read”
-Oscar Wilde
But we all have to do things we don’t like sometimes. Compromise is the name of the game when it comes to getting paid.
That night, after running into my friend’s mother, I realized freelance writing is the solution to my money problem.
Sure, writing copy doesn’t often offer much in the way of creative expression, and sure it’s “going commercial” to some extent, but there’s low barrier to entry, and I can do it on the side from wherever I am.
Money. Flexibility. The chance to develop highly efficient writing skills and a broad knowledge base?
Problem solved.
You see how much there is to gain from holding the important questions in your mind at all times?
It prepares you for chance, whether chance takes the form of a random encounter, a few words read off a street sign, a song lyric, or anything else that could inspire a useful idea.
Keep the important questions alive in your mind. Parlay serendipity to do the answering for you.
Check back in for more thoughts and ideas on Problem Solving! I’m sure I’ll be doing a lot of it as I try to break into the freelance writing scene with zero credentials…
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
We were both on our ways, but we did stop for a brief exchange of words and kindness. I asked about the state of their kitchen (currently under reconstruction). And she asked about the state of my ventures, at the end of which she offered me the following advice:
“Whatever you do, take notes, because at your heart you’re a writer.”
After we parted ways, I played w/that thought in my mind.
At your heart you’re a writer.
***
Let me tell you something about having little (or no) money: You never stop thinking about it. (At least for me, maybe I’m just a wuss)
You question every purchase – Was this really necessary? Could I have borrowed this from someone?
You veto most purchases in the first place – Alright, this vending machine iced tea is only 1.25, but if I buy this now and then do the same thing 2 other days, that’s like a whole buffet lunch! No, no, I can’t cave…
Then you start running cost-benefit analyses involving subjective things, like time, and things get way complex. (And often self-justifying)
It’s really amazing the number of times you can run through the mental math and still harbor the hope that you should be able to hold out longer than you’ve calculated. You really start to empathize and identify with “creative accountants.”
Slippery slope, no?
The point is, “the money issue” runs through your mind constantly, taking up valuable mental RAM.
Is this really a good thing, given how much other stuff one always seems to have on one’s plate?
Actually, yes.
***
There are myriad factors that precipitate and contribute to depression.
Each factor represents one challenge for you to take on. Sometimes the factors are intertwined, so that by tackling one challenge, you simultaneously tackle another.
The important thing is to constantly apply yourself to solving these challenges. It doesn’t always have to be a big heroic struggle, but every single day you should do at least one small thing to make the day a little better. Don’t let a single day pass without.
Overcoming depression is to some extent just an exercise in problem-solving.
Effective problem-solving requires unceasing attention to the problem at hand. Even if you’re not thinking specifics, meditation on the problem yields invaluable, if sometimes intangible, benefits.
In the words of Alastor Moody, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!
In the car, in the shower, on a run, in an uninspiring class/meeting/whatever – these are all times for you to meditate on the issues and challenges that are important to you.
Don’t think rigidly – be creative.
In “The Golden Compass,” when Lyra is learning to use the alethiometer, Farder Coram tells her,
“One thing I do know, Lyra, you mustn’t grasp at the answer. Hold the question in your mind, but lightly, like it was something alive.”
Your question is a live one, and so are you, so think and act like it!
If you get some absurd ideas, don’t be afraid to follow through on some of them. Try them out! You won’t always get the result you want, but sometimes what you do get turns out to be even more valuable than what you were originally aiming for. If nothing else, you’ll have learned something, and perhaps you’ll get a fresh idea from your new experiences.
Hit your problems from every possible angle with everything you’ve got.
***
At your heart you are a writer.
***
I’d thought about being an (out-of-work) writer before. It seems if one is going to try to make a living from “occupations” that seem to champion unemployment (like I am), one might as well be unemployed in all of them simultaneously.
Although I have zero formal training, with hard work I have a feeling I could probably become an okay writer, and I really do get satisfaction from crafting meaning with words.
No, it was never the “out-of-work” aspect that bothered me about writing for a living. It was more the inability to achieve mass meaningful impact, at least for most writers, and at least for the type of writing that you can actually make a living off of.
There’s a reason it’s said about the difference between journalism and literature:
“The difference between literature and journalism is that journalism is unreadable, and literature is not read”
-Oscar Wilde
But we all have to do things we don’t like sometimes. Compromise is the name of the game when it comes to getting paid.
That night, after running into my friend’s mother, I realized freelance writing is the solution to my money problem.
Sure, writing copy doesn’t often offer much in the way of creative expression, and sure it’s “going commercial” to some extent, but there’s low barrier to entry, and I can do it on the side from wherever I am.
Money. Flexibility. The chance to develop highly efficient writing skills and a broad knowledge base?
Problem solved.
***
You see how much there is to gain from holding the important questions in your mind at all times?
It prepares you for chance, whether chance takes the form of a random encounter, a few words read off a street sign, a song lyric, or anything else that could inspire a useful idea.
Keep the important questions alive in your mind. Parlay serendipity to do the answering for you.
***
Check back in for more thoughts and ideas on Problem Solving! I’m sure I’ll be doing a lot of it as I try to break into the freelance writing scene with zero credentials…
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Monday, February 1, 2010
On Therapy – Intro (It’s all about the people)
When I think about some of the enormous challenges facing the world today, I realize that I firmly believe the solutions for many of these challenges lay right before us, out in the open, absolutely within reach. (Forgive my youthful idealism)
I believe that for many of these challenges, we don’t necessarily need high technology or extreme sophistication.
Off the top of my head, depression (slated to become the world’s 2nd leading disease burden by 2020) and education (it’s pretty much universally accepted we’re in deep trouble) both immediately strike me as crucial areas where advanced science and technology serve a tangential purpose. (Blasphemy, eh?)
Sure, they help, sometimes in revolutionary ways (The internet rocks, man), and sure they’re impressive (Drugs that can correct the chemical imbalances in your brain? Dayummn…). But at a certain point a device is just a device. (Shoutout to Steven and Raphael for our conversation last night that brought some of this stuff to mind)
It’s really all about the people, when you think about it. Of all our resources, human capital is the most undertapped, and holds the most promise.
There’s no question in my mind – what we need most urgently to do is to bring out the best in people. After all, we are the jumping off point for everything else.
To do this, we need to lend wings to the fearlessly creative people who will innovate, and to the relentlessly determined people who will implement.
And innovation often just means throwing together “old” pieces of the puzzle in fresh combinations, and watching magic happen. (Ex – the shipping container is just a box, it’s one of the most important inventions of all time. See here: http://www.gizmag.com/go/5716/)
In the past, I have been critical of therapy as a long-term solution to depression (not that I’m in any credible position to judge, but still, that was my opinion). But the more and more I read about it, the more and more I think therapy holds enormous potential.
I’ve come to realize that my problem with therapy lies not in the theory, but in the implementation. A lot of this has to do with the negative experiences I’ve had with it. At some point, I may share some of these stories with you, so you know where I’m coming from.
The fact is, my world is narrow – I’m young.
As I explore the out-of-the-box alternatives that I think might hold great potential for helping people overcome depression, and as I imagine the day my team and I launch the pilot program for our social venture, I can’t help but think about some of the older, more experienced, more credentialed, more legit professionals who probably will look down on me with utter disdain.
What gives me - a "nobody" - the right to assume such responsibilities?
My response is one that I come back to time and time again:
"To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is true for all men – that is genius."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
I’m young, but I do have a good amount and variety of life experience, both when it comes to the challenge I'm dealing with and when it comes to other things. And though my experiences most definitely will not be applicable to everyone, I know that some people resonate with them. As long as there are these few people, I’ll keep on, knowing that it's likely there are more. And based on some of the responses we’ve gotten already, I’m fairly confident we’re on to something with our ideas.
Everything else I need to know, I'll work hard to learn along the way.
But all this being considered, it’s high time I started educating myself on some of the stuff that's already out there - specifically on therapy. Because judging by some of the books I’m reading, there is indeed some incredible work being done by therapists around the world, and I feel it’s highly relevant that I learn about some of it. Of course I won’t be able to acquire the same sort of first-hand experience that an actual practicing therapist would, but I'll still be able to vicariously explore their world and pick their minds for ideas.
And you know what? When you really think about it, therapy really is all about the people. It’s really supposed to just be a mano-a-mano learning session, a transferrance of wisdom from “therapist” to “patient.”
Take off the white coats, strip the elite diplomas from the wall, and remove all the other barriers of ranks and labels and titles, and therapy is really just about finding the best ways for one person to inspire another, or for one person to help another inspire him/herself. At least that's how I see it.
With all this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Therapy, of which this is the introductory post.
Check back in for my thoughts and ideas on therapy, as culled from my personal experiences, those of others, whatever literature I can get my hands on, and anything else that comes my way. Often, I will simply recap my findings without drawing connections at first, but I trust that the connections will start to forge themselves afterwards. And I promise to write in as non-academic and as accessible a way as possible. I firmly belive that even the most complex intellectual concepts can be communicated to the layman (or at least the thrust of those concepts). In fact, I imagine a world where everyone is a "therapist" in some way. We could all use a little wisdom and (self)knowledge every now and then, and I would love to a part of the effort to make "therapy" more accessible and relevant to us laypeople (read: if you ever wanted to learn about therapy through conversational language, read this series!).
The "Depression Epidemic" is a sign that human potential is just waiting to be unleashed. Therapy might well turn out be one of the most effective vehicles for unleashing it.
It might not, also, but who's to say?
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
I believe that for many of these challenges, we don’t necessarily need high technology or extreme sophistication.
Off the top of my head, depression (slated to become the world’s 2nd leading disease burden by 2020) and education (it’s pretty much universally accepted we’re in deep trouble) both immediately strike me as crucial areas where advanced science and technology serve a tangential purpose. (Blasphemy, eh?)
Sure, they help, sometimes in revolutionary ways (The internet rocks, man), and sure they’re impressive (Drugs that can correct the chemical imbalances in your brain? Dayummn…). But at a certain point a device is just a device. (Shoutout to Steven and Raphael for our conversation last night that brought some of this stuff to mind)
It’s really all about the people, when you think about it. Of all our resources, human capital is the most undertapped, and holds the most promise.
There’s no question in my mind – what we need most urgently to do is to bring out the best in people. After all, we are the jumping off point for everything else.
To do this, we need to lend wings to the fearlessly creative people who will innovate, and to the relentlessly determined people who will implement.
And innovation often just means throwing together “old” pieces of the puzzle in fresh combinations, and watching magic happen. (Ex – the shipping container is just a box, it’s one of the most important inventions of all time. See here: http://www.gizmag.com/go/5716/)
***
In the past, I have been critical of therapy as a long-term solution to depression (not that I’m in any credible position to judge, but still, that was my opinion). But the more and more I read about it, the more and more I think therapy holds enormous potential.
I’ve come to realize that my problem with therapy lies not in the theory, but in the implementation. A lot of this has to do with the negative experiences I’ve had with it. At some point, I may share some of these stories with you, so you know where I’m coming from.
The fact is, my world is narrow – I’m young.
As I explore the out-of-the-box alternatives that I think might hold great potential for helping people overcome depression, and as I imagine the day my team and I launch the pilot program for our social venture, I can’t help but think about some of the older, more experienced, more credentialed, more legit professionals who probably will look down on me with utter disdain.
What gives me - a "nobody" - the right to assume such responsibilities?
My response is one that I come back to time and time again:
"To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is true for all men – that is genius."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
I’m young, but I do have a good amount and variety of life experience, both when it comes to the challenge I'm dealing with and when it comes to other things. And though my experiences most definitely will not be applicable to everyone, I know that some people resonate with them. As long as there are these few people, I’ll keep on, knowing that it's likely there are more. And based on some of the responses we’ve gotten already, I’m fairly confident we’re on to something with our ideas.
Everything else I need to know, I'll work hard to learn along the way.
But all this being considered, it’s high time I started educating myself on some of the stuff that's already out there - specifically on therapy. Because judging by some of the books I’m reading, there is indeed some incredible work being done by therapists around the world, and I feel it’s highly relevant that I learn about some of it. Of course I won’t be able to acquire the same sort of first-hand experience that an actual practicing therapist would, but I'll still be able to vicariously explore their world and pick their minds for ideas.
And you know what? When you really think about it, therapy really is all about the people. It’s really supposed to just be a mano-a-mano learning session, a transferrance of wisdom from “therapist” to “patient.”
Take off the white coats, strip the elite diplomas from the wall, and remove all the other barriers of ranks and labels and titles, and therapy is really just about finding the best ways for one person to inspire another, or for one person to help another inspire him/herself. At least that's how I see it.
With all this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Therapy, of which this is the introductory post.
Check back in for my thoughts and ideas on therapy, as culled from my personal experiences, those of others, whatever literature I can get my hands on, and anything else that comes my way. Often, I will simply recap my findings without drawing connections at first, but I trust that the connections will start to forge themselves afterwards. And I promise to write in as non-academic and as accessible a way as possible. I firmly belive that even the most complex intellectual concepts can be communicated to the layman (or at least the thrust of those concepts). In fact, I imagine a world where everyone is a "therapist" in some way. We could all use a little wisdom and (self)knowledge every now and then, and I would love to a part of the effort to make "therapy" more accessible and relevant to us laypeople (read: if you ever wanted to learn about therapy through conversational language, read this series!).
The "Depression Epidemic" is a sign that human potential is just waiting to be unleashed. Therapy might well turn out be one of the most effective vehicles for unleashing it.
It might not, also, but who's to say?
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Friday, January 29, 2010
On Humor – Intro (Well-timed humor’s power)
I had lunch with my father yesterday.
Have you ever been part of a conversation where one person suddenly strikes upon a deep and unpleasant truth – unpleasant because it’s the truth?
The room freezes, it seems, suspended in stillness as the false silence of truth permeates the air. False because while vocal chords cease productive movement, internal voices rage on, hustling to prepare for conflict and defense should it become necessary.
Sometimes it never does.
The last thing my father said was “I don’t give a shit.”
Then silence took over, and save for a few brief exchanges with the waiter, it maintained hold.
I kept waiting to defend my assertion, but the need never arose. He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t care to either.
At moments like these, everything in the immediate vicinity seems fucking stupid. Irrelevant. Mere trivialities.
The distinct hues of Buffalo Wild Wings décor. The practiced courtesy of waiters and waitresses. Vacuous commentator talk on the flatscreens hanging from the restaurant walls (shoutout to the Australian Open).
All bullshit in relation to your world, in relation to the gripping of a nascent truth on your conscience.
Then my father, uncharacteristically, broke the silence. He, again uncharacteristically, told a funny story. (Will is my 6-year-old brother)
So the other day Will was really mad with me. I couldn’t figure out why. Then finally he said to me, “Daddy, I had a really bad day…I told my friend my secret – I told him I peed in my pants – and he told everyone. He is a bad person. He can’t be trusted.”
Six-year-old drama is hilarious. (Sorry, Will, for immortalizing yours)
After that story, I heard a bit more, something about how a girl has a big crush on Will, and how she always wants to sit next to him in class, and how she keeps asking him if he’s Jewish…
At all of this, I laughed in spite of myself. I stopped being righteous and just let go.
The thing about humor in these kinds of situations - it doesn’t change anything.
But it softens the harshness, and sometimes pain, of unpleasant truths. It creates brief moments of joy to fill the silences.
Call it a defense mechanism, a distraction, a weakness – call it whatever the hell you want.
Humor works. It helps you keep on keeping on.
With all this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Humor, of which this is the introductory post. I guess I have a lot of room for expression in this one…
Check back in for more!
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Have you ever been part of a conversation where one person suddenly strikes upon a deep and unpleasant truth – unpleasant because it’s the truth?
The room freezes, it seems, suspended in stillness as the false silence of truth permeates the air. False because while vocal chords cease productive movement, internal voices rage on, hustling to prepare for conflict and defense should it become necessary.
Sometimes it never does.
The last thing my father said was “I don’t give a shit.”
Then silence took over, and save for a few brief exchanges with the waiter, it maintained hold.
I kept waiting to defend my assertion, but the need never arose. He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t care to either.
At moments like these, everything in the immediate vicinity seems fucking stupid. Irrelevant. Mere trivialities.
The distinct hues of Buffalo Wild Wings décor. The practiced courtesy of waiters and waitresses. Vacuous commentator talk on the flatscreens hanging from the restaurant walls (shoutout to the Australian Open).
All bullshit in relation to your world, in relation to the gripping of a nascent truth on your conscience.
Then my father, uncharacteristically, broke the silence. He, again uncharacteristically, told a funny story. (Will is my 6-year-old brother)
So the other day Will was really mad with me. I couldn’t figure out why. Then finally he said to me, “Daddy, I had a really bad day…I told my friend my secret – I told him I peed in my pants – and he told everyone. He is a bad person. He can’t be trusted.”
Six-year-old drama is hilarious. (Sorry, Will, for immortalizing yours)
After that story, I heard a bit more, something about how a girl has a big crush on Will, and how she always wants to sit next to him in class, and how she keeps asking him if he’s Jewish…
At all of this, I laughed in spite of myself. I stopped being righteous and just let go.
The thing about humor in these kinds of situations - it doesn’t change anything.
But it softens the harshness, and sometimes pain, of unpleasant truths. It creates brief moments of joy to fill the silences.
Call it a defense mechanism, a distraction, a weakness – call it whatever the hell you want.
Humor works. It helps you keep on keeping on.
With all this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Humor, of which this is the introductory post. I guess I have a lot of room for expression in this one…
Check back in for more!
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Thursday, January 28, 2010
On Dance – Intro (Hip Hop w/Chio at Broadway Dance Center)
A week ago Wednesday I took my first ever dance class, at the Broadway Dance Center in NYC.
I’m pretty coordinated when it comes to sports, simply because I’ve played them (a lot of them) my whole life. But when it came to dancing, I’ve always felt just plain dumb (physically).
So, being that I want to learn to master my body as much as possible for purposes of being a good actor, I enrolled in a beginner’s Hip Hop class.
The thing about these kinds of classes is, you really need to have someone legit teaching them, or you run the risk of feeling stupid (at least that’s how it works for me).
Chio, our teacher, was bloody brilliant. She had skills, she had style, and she had a dynamite personality.
And she was one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met. Which, right away, is pretty much the first thing I look for when I try to get a sense of who someone is. I’m not very particular when it comes to this and that, but if you’re genuine, and you’re passionate, and you have the courage to trust in and be yourself, you’ve already scored mega cool points with me. But I digress.
Most of all, she loved dancing, and that showed through every second we were there. Even before class started, she was leaning in against the window to observe the previous class’ choreography, like a kid ogling ice cream flavors.
Her choreography wasn’t spectacularly dumbed down, I don’t think (can’t really say, given my zero prior experience).
Her teaching style: drill-sergeant dictatorial, but affectionately so, and in an incredibly encouraging way. Every once in a while she would make fun of us with an exaggerated caricature of an imitation to illustrate how ridiculous our moves looked sometimes, but she’d always follow with an, “It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay.”
With simple instructions (sometimes incorporating street analogies) and temporarily isolated body motions, she broke it down for us.
I’m not gonna lie, I still sucked. Majorly. Dancing is incredibly difficult for me, and I think it’s because I think too much.
I live too much up in my head.
The writer in me is constantly noticing everything around me. I pick up the vibes, the individual struggles and triumphs, the flow of the session. And so on.
But with dancing, at a certain point it’s not about intellectualizing things, or finding a rational explanation that underlies it all. That’s largely useless, in fact.
Just dance.
Trust in your body’s intelligence, your body’s smarts. Remember, we are creatures of the mind, yes, but we’re also just animals, to some degree.
“You and me baby ain’t nothin’ but mammals
So let’s do it like they do on the Discovery Channel.”
-Bloodhound Gang
Alright, the subject matter is a bit different, but the point is there. Actually, if you’ve seen “Shall We Dance,” you might then make this connection:
“The rumba is the vertical expression of a horizontal wish. You have to hold her, like the skin on her thigh is your reason for living. Let her go, like your heart's being ripped from your chest. Throw her back, like you're going to have your way with her right here on the dance floor. And then finish, like she's ruined you for life.”
-Jennifer Lopez as hot dance teacher Paulina
I mean, it was a pretty absurd movie, but JLo did give some pretty good advice to lawyerly Richard Gere:
“Leave it. Leave the light. Don’t say anything. And don’t think…And don’t move, unless you feel it.”
You see? Sometimes we should shut up (verbally), shut down (mentally), and just express ourselves.
I believe dance holds enormous potential for helping people overcome depression. With this in mind, I've decided to start a series of posts on Dance, of which this is the introductory post. Check back in for more in the Dance series as I explore this potential, and as I (hopefully) learn how to dance!
Status update: I went back for my 2nd class yesterday night, and I made exponential progress.
I still suck, significantly, of course.
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
I’m pretty coordinated when it comes to sports, simply because I’ve played them (a lot of them) my whole life. But when it came to dancing, I’ve always felt just plain dumb (physically).
So, being that I want to learn to master my body as much as possible for purposes of being a good actor, I enrolled in a beginner’s Hip Hop class.
The thing about these kinds of classes is, you really need to have someone legit teaching them, or you run the risk of feeling stupid (at least that’s how it works for me).
Chio, our teacher, was bloody brilliant. She had skills, she had style, and she had a dynamite personality.
And she was one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met. Which, right away, is pretty much the first thing I look for when I try to get a sense of who someone is. I’m not very particular when it comes to this and that, but if you’re genuine, and you’re passionate, and you have the courage to trust in and be yourself, you’ve already scored mega cool points with me. But I digress.
Most of all, she loved dancing, and that showed through every second we were there. Even before class started, she was leaning in against the window to observe the previous class’ choreography, like a kid ogling ice cream flavors.
Her choreography wasn’t spectacularly dumbed down, I don’t think (can’t really say, given my zero prior experience).
Her teaching style: drill-sergeant dictatorial, but affectionately so, and in an incredibly encouraging way. Every once in a while she would make fun of us with an exaggerated caricature of an imitation to illustrate how ridiculous our moves looked sometimes, but she’d always follow with an, “It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay.”
With simple instructions (sometimes incorporating street analogies) and temporarily isolated body motions, she broke it down for us.
I’m not gonna lie, I still sucked. Majorly. Dancing is incredibly difficult for me, and I think it’s because I think too much.
I live too much up in my head.
The writer in me is constantly noticing everything around me. I pick up the vibes, the individual struggles and triumphs, the flow of the session. And so on.
But with dancing, at a certain point it’s not about intellectualizing things, or finding a rational explanation that underlies it all. That’s largely useless, in fact.
Just dance.
Trust in your body’s intelligence, your body’s smarts. Remember, we are creatures of the mind, yes, but we’re also just animals, to some degree.
“You and me baby ain’t nothin’ but mammals
So let’s do it like they do on the Discovery Channel.”
-Bloodhound Gang
Alright, the subject matter is a bit different, but the point is there. Actually, if you’ve seen “Shall We Dance,” you might then make this connection:
“The rumba is the vertical expression of a horizontal wish. You have to hold her, like the skin on her thigh is your reason for living. Let her go, like your heart's being ripped from your chest. Throw her back, like you're going to have your way with her right here on the dance floor. And then finish, like she's ruined you for life.”
-Jennifer Lopez as hot dance teacher Paulina
I mean, it was a pretty absurd movie, but JLo did give some pretty good advice to lawyerly Richard Gere:
“Leave it. Leave the light. Don’t say anything. And don’t think…And don’t move, unless you feel it.”
You see? Sometimes we should shut up (verbally), shut down (mentally), and just express ourselves.
I believe dance holds enormous potential for helping people overcome depression. With this in mind, I've decided to start a series of posts on Dance, of which this is the introductory post. Check back in for more in the Dance series as I explore this potential, and as I (hopefully) learn how to dance!
Status update: I went back for my 2nd class yesterday night, and I made exponential progress.
I still suck, significantly, of course.
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Thursday, January 14, 2010
On Education – Intro (Tutoring Sean at Calvert House)
Today I would like to share with you an important memory of mine. It’s a memory that inspired me, gave me hope, and showed me what was possible. And it’s a memory that really gets to the heart of our social venture.
When I was still a student at the University of Chicago, one of my extracurriculars was tutoring Chicago youth. One of the organizations I tutored with was Calvert House, the Catholic Center at UofC. Once a week, for two hours in the morning, a small group of students (including myself) would tutor a group of “less-privileged” kids, ranging from elementary school to high school students.
“My” first kid was Aaron, a 7-year-old who was addicted to wrestling, violence, and naughtiness, and had quite a limited attention span. I tried my best, but I didn’t manage to connect with him. “Tutoring” him really sort of became just “babysitting” him.
Which is fine. I think a large part of the purpose of places like Calvert House is just to provide a safe and encouraging environment, several times a week, for kids who might normally not have such an environment.
In general, I noticed that many of the tutor-tutee relationships operated this way – more like hangout buddies or “Big Brother/Big Sister” type relationships, where kindness and camaraderie were placed as top priority.
For a large portion of my life, I operated under the same assumptions, believing that sheer kindness was the best way to help someone. For instance, as co-captain of my high school ultimate team, I remember on “running days” when we’d run a 3-mile loop along Dempsey St, I’d sometimes run at the back of the pack, with the “stragglers,” to try to pace them and offer them kind words of encouragement.
Then one day I read The Prophet by Khalil Gibran, one of my all-time favorite books. And this quote from the chapter “Good and Evil” struck me as remarkably true:
You are good when you walk to your goal firmly and with bold steps.
Yet you are not evil when you go thither limping.
Even those who limp go not backward.
But you who are strong and swift, see that you do not limp before the lame, deeming it kindness.
You are good in countless ways, and you are not evil when you are not good,
You are only loitering and sluggard.
Pity that the stags cannot teach swiftness to the turtles.
In your longing for your giant self lies your goodness: and that longing is in all of you.
But in some of you that longing is a torrent rushing with might to the sea, carrying the secrets of the hillsides and the songs of the forest.
And in others it is a flat stream that loses itself in angles and bends and lingers before it reaches the shore.
But let not him who longs much say to him who longs little, "Wherefore are you slow and halting?"
For the truly good ask not the naked, "Where is your garment?" nor the houseless, "What has befallen your house?"
The fact is, some people have more passion for life than others do. But everybody has some (see my earlier post On Entrepreneurship – Its health benefits).
How best to bring it out? How best to teach? To educate?
HOW BEST TO INSPIRE?
It’s not by “limp[ing] before the lame, deeming it kindness.”
Patience and kindness and camaraderie and sensitivity are essential, but they should be woven in alongside a genuine and even aggressive intention to inspire and to teach.
I believe there is no better way to inspire than by example. Show how to be strong by being strong and expecting the same.
One day, my kid Aaron didn’t show up for tutoring, and simultaneously another kid’s mentor didn’t show up.
So I was paired with Sean, a 7th grader.
If I were to abstract for a moment and pretend I were a teacher w/a class full of seventh-graders, each needing individual attention, and many w/priorities other than learning (priorities I had to discourage, for the sake of classroom order), I admit, I’d probably marginalize Sean as a “lost cause.”
Sean had nearly zero confidence. He dressed awkwardly, and it always seemed his clothes didn’t fit him. His breath always smelled, and his body language spoke of deep insecurity. He could hardly unzip his pencil bag with conviction, let alone hold a conversation.
I immediately identified. I was that same kid, just a few years prior.
The point is, Sean was deeply insecure and lacked confidence – he was the kind of kid you’d be most inclined to immediately “buddy up” with and be ultra nice to.
I chose to avoid that route. Because frankly, it may be easy, and it may be nice, but it’s not very effective.
Instead, I treated him with expectation. I chose to believe in him. And I refused to accept less than what I thought he was capable of.
Looking from the outside, it may have appeared I was being too aggressive, too stubborn, and too unreasonably expecting. Alec, the senior who oversaw everything, definitely gave me some strange looks. I didn’t care (partially because I could tell he was only doing it for his resume, as evidenced by his constant discussion of said resume).
We were working on mixed fractions. I figured out a way to explain them by drawing pizza diagrams, and successively dividing slices into smaller and smaller fractions by halving them, then adding together the new slices, the freshly divided ones now representing new units, new fractions.
At one point, Sean managed to solve a fairly difficult problem on his own using the method I taught him. And I’ll never ever forget the change I saw in him, just in that one moment.
I swear, he sat up straighter in his chair, his body no longer slouched, and he gave off an entirely different vibe. It wasn’t confidence. No, it was far more nervous than that, and far more premature.
I’m fairly certain he terrified himself. I watched his hands tremble in excitement, and his speech stumble as he clumsily, but correctly, explained his logic in solving the problem.
What was it?
It was his recognition of his own potential.
Seeing the concrete evidence with his own eyes – his ability to solve that problem on his own – fundamentally changed him.
I have no idea how Sean is doing today, and I’m not naïve enough to think that one session, with one small success, will turn a life around.
But it might.
And if you keep at it, with the same mentality of belief and expectation and guidance from the teacher, coupled with belief and discipline and hard work from the student, and over an extended period of time, I think it’s likely.
I believe it is these moments of inspiration, of recognition of one’s own potential – one’s own genius – that should be the primary aim of all education.
Not the memorization of facts and theories that can be used to impress and woo at interviews or cocktail dinner parties.
Did I contradict Khalil Gibran by pushing Sean? NO.
The fact is, I pushed him, but I pushed him at his level.
I was doing basic algebra in the 5th grade. He was doing basic fractions in the 7th grade. It doesn’t fucking matter.
I saw potential in Sean, and I saw in him a willingness to embrace that potential. So I encouraged it. Aggressively.
I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, partly because I don’t have time, and partly because some people are so utterly closed-minded it would take forever to help them. I’m not saying it’s impossible, but it’d be hard as hell.
Furthermore, it’s not my business to help people. Not unless they want to be helped. For that reason, most often I try to withhold judgment on people I don’t have a good reason to judge. In fact, the people I judge most, and most harshly, are usually the people I care about most, because I know my friends can take my critiques in the right spirit.
The thing about our social venture – we hope to target a very specific subset of people who struggle with depression: college students who know they are depressed, who want to get better, and who are willing to take action to do so.
These are the people I admire, whom I identify with, and whom I want to help unleash their potential.
You are good when you walk to your goal firmly and with bold steps.
In your longing for your giant self lies your goodness: and that longing is in all of you.
***
When I was still a student at the University of Chicago, one of my extracurriculars was tutoring Chicago youth. One of the organizations I tutored with was Calvert House, the Catholic Center at UofC. Once a week, for two hours in the morning, a small group of students (including myself) would tutor a group of “less-privileged” kids, ranging from elementary school to high school students.
“My” first kid was Aaron, a 7-year-old who was addicted to wrestling, violence, and naughtiness, and had quite a limited attention span. I tried my best, but I didn’t manage to connect with him. “Tutoring” him really sort of became just “babysitting” him.
Which is fine. I think a large part of the purpose of places like Calvert House is just to provide a safe and encouraging environment, several times a week, for kids who might normally not have such an environment.
In general, I noticed that many of the tutor-tutee relationships operated this way – more like hangout buddies or “Big Brother/Big Sister” type relationships, where kindness and camaraderie were placed as top priority.
***
For a large portion of my life, I operated under the same assumptions, believing that sheer kindness was the best way to help someone. For instance, as co-captain of my high school ultimate team, I remember on “running days” when we’d run a 3-mile loop along Dempsey St, I’d sometimes run at the back of the pack, with the “stragglers,” to try to pace them and offer them kind words of encouragement.
Then one day I read The Prophet by Khalil Gibran, one of my all-time favorite books. And this quote from the chapter “Good and Evil” struck me as remarkably true:
You are good when you walk to your goal firmly and with bold steps.
Yet you are not evil when you go thither limping.
Even those who limp go not backward.
But you who are strong and swift, see that you do not limp before the lame, deeming it kindness.
You are good in countless ways, and you are not evil when you are not good,
You are only loitering and sluggard.
Pity that the stags cannot teach swiftness to the turtles.
In your longing for your giant self lies your goodness: and that longing is in all of you.
But in some of you that longing is a torrent rushing with might to the sea, carrying the secrets of the hillsides and the songs of the forest.
And in others it is a flat stream that loses itself in angles and bends and lingers before it reaches the shore.
But let not him who longs much say to him who longs little, "Wherefore are you slow and halting?"
For the truly good ask not the naked, "Where is your garment?" nor the houseless, "What has befallen your house?"
The fact is, some people have more passion for life than others do. But everybody has some (see my earlier post On Entrepreneurship – Its health benefits).
How best to bring it out? How best to teach? To educate?
HOW BEST TO INSPIRE?
It’s not by “limp[ing] before the lame, deeming it kindness.”
Patience and kindness and camaraderie and sensitivity are essential, but they should be woven in alongside a genuine and even aggressive intention to inspire and to teach.
I believe there is no better way to inspire than by example. Show how to be strong by being strong and expecting the same.
***
One day, my kid Aaron didn’t show up for tutoring, and simultaneously another kid’s mentor didn’t show up.
So I was paired with Sean, a 7th grader.
If I were to abstract for a moment and pretend I were a teacher w/a class full of seventh-graders, each needing individual attention, and many w/priorities other than learning (priorities I had to discourage, for the sake of classroom order), I admit, I’d probably marginalize Sean as a “lost cause.”
Sean had nearly zero confidence. He dressed awkwardly, and it always seemed his clothes didn’t fit him. His breath always smelled, and his body language spoke of deep insecurity. He could hardly unzip his pencil bag with conviction, let alone hold a conversation.
I immediately identified. I was that same kid, just a few years prior.
The point is, Sean was deeply insecure and lacked confidence – he was the kind of kid you’d be most inclined to immediately “buddy up” with and be ultra nice to.
I chose to avoid that route. Because frankly, it may be easy, and it may be nice, but it’s not very effective.
Instead, I treated him with expectation. I chose to believe in him. And I refused to accept less than what I thought he was capable of.
Looking from the outside, it may have appeared I was being too aggressive, too stubborn, and too unreasonably expecting. Alec, the senior who oversaw everything, definitely gave me some strange looks. I didn’t care (partially because I could tell he was only doing it for his resume, as evidenced by his constant discussion of said resume).
We were working on mixed fractions. I figured out a way to explain them by drawing pizza diagrams, and successively dividing slices into smaller and smaller fractions by halving them, then adding together the new slices, the freshly divided ones now representing new units, new fractions.
At one point, Sean managed to solve a fairly difficult problem on his own using the method I taught him. And I’ll never ever forget the change I saw in him, just in that one moment.
I swear, he sat up straighter in his chair, his body no longer slouched, and he gave off an entirely different vibe. It wasn’t confidence. No, it was far more nervous than that, and far more premature.
I’m fairly certain he terrified himself. I watched his hands tremble in excitement, and his speech stumble as he clumsily, but correctly, explained his logic in solving the problem.
What was it?
It was his recognition of his own potential.
Seeing the concrete evidence with his own eyes – his ability to solve that problem on his own – fundamentally changed him.
I have no idea how Sean is doing today, and I’m not naïve enough to think that one session, with one small success, will turn a life around.
But it might.
And if you keep at it, with the same mentality of belief and expectation and guidance from the teacher, coupled with belief and discipline and hard work from the student, and over an extended period of time, I think it’s likely.
I believe it is these moments of inspiration, of recognition of one’s own potential – one’s own genius – that should be the primary aim of all education.
Not the memorization of facts and theories that can be used to impress and woo at interviews or cocktail dinner parties.
***
Did I contradict Khalil Gibran by pushing Sean? NO.
The fact is, I pushed him, but I pushed him at his level.
I was doing basic algebra in the 5th grade. He was doing basic fractions in the 7th grade. It doesn’t fucking matter.
I saw potential in Sean, and I saw in him a willingness to embrace that potential. So I encouraged it. Aggressively.
I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, partly because I don’t have time, and partly because some people are so utterly closed-minded it would take forever to help them. I’m not saying it’s impossible, but it’d be hard as hell.
Furthermore, it’s not my business to help people. Not unless they want to be helped. For that reason, most often I try to withhold judgment on people I don’t have a good reason to judge. In fact, the people I judge most, and most harshly, are usually the people I care about most, because I know my friends can take my critiques in the right spirit.
The thing about our social venture – we hope to target a very specific subset of people who struggle with depression: college students who know they are depressed, who want to get better, and who are willing to take action to do so.
These are the people I admire, whom I identify with, and whom I want to help unleash their potential.
***
You are good when you walk to your goal firmly and with bold steps.
***
In your longing for your giant self lies your goodness: and that longing is in all of you.
***
Embrace your longing for your giant self, and be bold in doing so.
Learn.
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Sunday, January 10, 2010
On Details – Intro (The little things)
One “symptom” of depression is an overwhelming feeling of “emptiness.” We feel like our entire lives have meant nothing – that we are nothing.
I believe that part of the battle in fighting depression is filling in the details. Being able to see the beauty in every day detail, and learning to take joy from and focus on that beauty, rather than on pain.
I was once hospitalized at one of the “best” clinics on the East coast. Among the activities we were encouraged to attend was “Art.”
Frankly, it was bullshit – infantilizing, demeaning, and ineffective. And the person who led the session did not at all grasp the nuance of what it’s like to struggle through the day with severe depression (granted, I’m sure it’s a highly variable experience). There were also 2 premed students joining us to “observe” – they seemed quite utterly detached from the group, and rather self-absorbed, which made me strongly question their future ability as doctors. But I digress.
Still, being a team player, I played along, if only half-heartedly.
Many of my fellow inpatients were dual diagnosis – in addition to depression, they concurrently struggled with (and were diagnosed with) disorders like alcoholism, narcotics addictions, etc.
Several made reference to their drug addictions in their art. One girl drew the street crossing and chicken joint where she met w/her dealer to purchase heroine. An older man (proudly) drew a horse, also in reference to heroin.
Some just scribbled on paper, with no particular aim at all.
Not knowing what to do, and never having been particularly artsy in terms of drawing/painting, I grabbed some colored pencils and a big blue plastic alphabet stencil off the ping-pong table (we actually used a ping-pong table as the table – the art room became the rec room later at night).
I folded in half a blank white piece of 8.5 by 11” printer paper, then stenciled out a word on the left half. I’m straining but can’t remember exactly what word (I could probably find it if I sifted through old boxes). I’m pretty sure it was just my name.
D A V I D
The letters on the stencil were pretty big, in terms of stroke width, so that there was room for me to trace the inside of each letter on the stencil w/a colored pencil and still have the interior of the letter still stay empty (white). I remember this pretty well - I think the stencil was originally designed for markers.
But then I grabbed another stencil, also made of dark blue plastic, from the ping-pong table. This one didn’t have any letters at all – it was just patterns. There were flowers, big and small, and the level of detail was astonishing, at least for a stencil.
On the right half of my piece of paper, I traced out a few of the flowers, again w/colored pencil, using different colors for the different parts of the flower. It came out really pretty, and not at all due to any artistic ability on my part – the stencil simply had very intricate detail.
Then I looked at my piece of paper, and thought about how I was going to present it to the group (we were supposed to talk about our artwork at the end of each session).
And then it hit me.
To some degree, I initially was really just bullshitting. Drawing whatever tenuous connection I could find b/w whatever things happened to be on the paper, just so I’d have something to say. (This is an essential survival skill that all students who go through today’s education system develop, and usually by the time we make it to college, we’ve got it pretty well honed)
But I took one look at the big empty letters on the left half of the paper, and then at the intricate flowers on the right half, and I knew exactly what I was going to say. It came out something to this effect:
“The left half of my paper embodies the emptiness and nothingness I feel when I think about my life. The right half is my hope for the future – where one day I’ll be able to fill myself up and learn to appreciate the small details again.”
They – famous architects, and wise people, and Chinese restaurant fortune cookies – say that God is in the details.
To some extent, I believe this – I find that many of the most miraculous things in life are things you wouldn’t notice unless you really paid attention.
With all this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Details, of which this is the introductory post, where I will point out some of the every day (and not so every day) details that inspire me.
I guess this is really a subcategory of my series of posts on Joy, but it’s separate enough to merit a new category.
Hopefully you’ll learn to (start?) pay attention to some of the little things in life, and to find (create?) joy in doing so.
The little things - they’re some of the greatest gifts anyone could ever give or receive.
And they’re free.
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
I believe that part of the battle in fighting depression is filling in the details. Being able to see the beauty in every day detail, and learning to take joy from and focus on that beauty, rather than on pain.
I was once hospitalized at one of the “best” clinics on the East coast. Among the activities we were encouraged to attend was “Art.”
Frankly, it was bullshit – infantilizing, demeaning, and ineffective. And the person who led the session did not at all grasp the nuance of what it’s like to struggle through the day with severe depression (granted, I’m sure it’s a highly variable experience). There were also 2 premed students joining us to “observe” – they seemed quite utterly detached from the group, and rather self-absorbed, which made me strongly question their future ability as doctors. But I digress.
Still, being a team player, I played along, if only half-heartedly.
Many of my fellow inpatients were dual diagnosis – in addition to depression, they concurrently struggled with (and were diagnosed with) disorders like alcoholism, narcotics addictions, etc.
Several made reference to their drug addictions in their art. One girl drew the street crossing and chicken joint where she met w/her dealer to purchase heroine. An older man (proudly) drew a horse, also in reference to heroin.
Some just scribbled on paper, with no particular aim at all.
Not knowing what to do, and never having been particularly artsy in terms of drawing/painting, I grabbed some colored pencils and a big blue plastic alphabet stencil off the ping-pong table (we actually used a ping-pong table as the table – the art room became the rec room later at night).
I folded in half a blank white piece of 8.5 by 11” printer paper, then stenciled out a word on the left half. I’m straining but can’t remember exactly what word (I could probably find it if I sifted through old boxes). I’m pretty sure it was just my name.
D A V I D
The letters on the stencil were pretty big, in terms of stroke width, so that there was room for me to trace the inside of each letter on the stencil w/a colored pencil and still have the interior of the letter still stay empty (white). I remember this pretty well - I think the stencil was originally designed for markers.
But then I grabbed another stencil, also made of dark blue plastic, from the ping-pong table. This one didn’t have any letters at all – it was just patterns. There were flowers, big and small, and the level of detail was astonishing, at least for a stencil.
On the right half of my piece of paper, I traced out a few of the flowers, again w/colored pencil, using different colors for the different parts of the flower. It came out really pretty, and not at all due to any artistic ability on my part – the stencil simply had very intricate detail.
Then I looked at my piece of paper, and thought about how I was going to present it to the group (we were supposed to talk about our artwork at the end of each session).
And then it hit me.
To some degree, I initially was really just bullshitting. Drawing whatever tenuous connection I could find b/w whatever things happened to be on the paper, just so I’d have something to say. (This is an essential survival skill that all students who go through today’s education system develop, and usually by the time we make it to college, we’ve got it pretty well honed)
But I took one look at the big empty letters on the left half of the paper, and then at the intricate flowers on the right half, and I knew exactly what I was going to say. It came out something to this effect:
“The left half of my paper embodies the emptiness and nothingness I feel when I think about my life. The right half is my hope for the future – where one day I’ll be able to fill myself up and learn to appreciate the small details again.”
They – famous architects, and wise people, and Chinese restaurant fortune cookies – say that God is in the details.
To some extent, I believe this – I find that many of the most miraculous things in life are things you wouldn’t notice unless you really paid attention.
With all this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Details, of which this is the introductory post, where I will point out some of the every day (and not so every day) details that inspire me.
I guess this is really a subcategory of my series of posts on Joy, but it’s separate enough to merit a new category.
Hopefully you’ll learn to (start?) pay attention to some of the little things in life, and to find (create?) joy in doing so.
The little things - they’re some of the greatest gifts anyone could ever give or receive.
And they’re free.
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Friday, January 8, 2010
On Acting – Intro
As someone who aspires to be an actor one day (in truth I see myself as an actor already, it’s just a matter of getting training under my belt, and a job), I’m very excited about the potential acting/acting training holds for changing the individual, and for changing the world – and thus for solving depression.
Here’s an excerpt of an email I sent to my team a few weeks ago, when the idea first took root in my mind (it was a very rough idea then, and remains so now):
“Hey guys,
So I've been reading a lot of acting books lately, and I'm getting really excited about the prospect of ACTING TRAINING becoming a mainstream cure for depression.
As an actor, you identify with the need of the character you want to portray, then use your body as the instrument to portray the motions appropriate to this need. In doing so, you must utterly remove yourself from everyday reality and learn to lose yourself in the real life dream you are creating as an actor. You become hyperaware of your body and mind and you learn to master them.
What better way to train oneself to escape the mental loops and mind traps of depressive thinking? And to weld that with taking concrete action when you least feel like doing anything at all? And to build confidence and a sense of self-worth while doing so?
Actors who take their craft seriously realize that they are acting every second of every minute of every hour of their lives, and this type of mindset will provide a sort of constant vigilance for depressed people to guard against suicidal/negative thinking. And acting is all about physical and mental exchange with fellow actors - that will put a check on isolation (both physical and mental).
Just a thought - and an example of how something seemingly disparate could become extraordinarily relevant.”
Since then, the idea has only grown on me. I see enormous possibility. I intuitively see that acting is all about THINKING BIG, IMAGINING BIG, and most of all, ACTING BIG! This kind of mentality is exactly what‘s needed to help someone overcome depression.
And not only does acting hold enormous possibility – the products of acting (movies, plays, culture) wield enormous power for change too! For instance, check out this article:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/04/world/middleeast/04iranfilms.html?partner=rss&emc=rss
In general, I think fame could be leveraged more effectively to create positive change in this world, beyond just publicity trips and charity concerts, etc. There must be a better business model to accomplish this, in a society where unfortunately fame’s the name of the game, to a very large degree. But that’s another discussion for another time…
With all of this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Acting, of which this is the introductory post, where I will present my ideas for how acting training can help people overcome depression. Some of these ideas you may see in the section on Action, but others you will see here.
I’ve been accepted to a weekend program w/the Stella Adler Studio for Acting in NYC (8 hrs/day on Saturdays and Sundays), and I look forward to sharing with you some of the things I learn!
Check back in for more in the Acting series! My classes start January 16th!
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Here’s an excerpt of an email I sent to my team a few weeks ago, when the idea first took root in my mind (it was a very rough idea then, and remains so now):
“Hey guys,
So I've been reading a lot of acting books lately, and I'm getting really excited about the prospect of ACTING TRAINING becoming a mainstream cure for depression.
As an actor, you identify with the need of the character you want to portray, then use your body as the instrument to portray the motions appropriate to this need. In doing so, you must utterly remove yourself from everyday reality and learn to lose yourself in the real life dream you are creating as an actor. You become hyperaware of your body and mind and you learn to master them.
What better way to train oneself to escape the mental loops and mind traps of depressive thinking? And to weld that with taking concrete action when you least feel like doing anything at all? And to build confidence and a sense of self-worth while doing so?
Actors who take their craft seriously realize that they are acting every second of every minute of every hour of their lives, and this type of mindset will provide a sort of constant vigilance for depressed people to guard against suicidal/negative thinking. And acting is all about physical and mental exchange with fellow actors - that will put a check on isolation (both physical and mental).
Just a thought - and an example of how something seemingly disparate could become extraordinarily relevant.”
Since then, the idea has only grown on me. I see enormous possibility. I intuitively see that acting is all about THINKING BIG, IMAGINING BIG, and most of all, ACTING BIG! This kind of mentality is exactly what‘s needed to help someone overcome depression.
And not only does acting hold enormous possibility – the products of acting (movies, plays, culture) wield enormous power for change too! For instance, check out this article:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/04/world/middleeast/04iranfilms.html?partner=rss&emc=rss
In general, I think fame could be leveraged more effectively to create positive change in this world, beyond just publicity trips and charity concerts, etc. There must be a better business model to accomplish this, in a society where unfortunately fame’s the name of the game, to a very large degree. But that’s another discussion for another time…
With all of this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Acting, of which this is the introductory post, where I will present my ideas for how acting training can help people overcome depression. Some of these ideas you may see in the section on Action, but others you will see here.
I’ve been accepted to a weekend program w/the Stella Adler Studio for Acting in NYC (8 hrs/day on Saturdays and Sundays), and I look forward to sharing with you some of the things I learn!
Check back in for more in the Acting series! My classes start January 16th!
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Thursday, January 7, 2010
On Action – Intro (Part I)
At the heart of our social venture is the belief that action is the key to overcoming depression.
I love words and the incredible transformative power they hold, but in my heart I truly appreciate that no words I can put down on paper or say out loud will ever match the right action, taken at the right time, with the right intentions behind it.
At risk of sounding like a broken record, I’m going to repeat Leonard Schlesinger’s prescient words:
You can act your way into new ways of thinking.
Just to be clear, we do not at all condone the sort of condescension that says, “Get up off the couch, you bum.” No, that is not at all what we advocate. In fact, being that sort of a disciplinarian to yourself often backfires, though it may work for some people.
But before you can take meaningful action, you must believe in yourself.
This belief can be flimsy and tenuous and utterly pathetic, but it must be there, at least to some degree. Otherwise you’ll just be moving muscles, and expending ATP (energy). You’ll just be going through meaningless motions.
But so long as this spark of belief exists, you must begin to take concrete action to uplift yourself.
And you must take this action with the right thought and intention behind it.
It is thought and preparation and intention that lend action its power.
If done with the proper mindset, your action should help you believe in yourself, and that should inspire further action, and stronger belief, and so on, in a powerful positive feedback loop.
It doesn’t matter if the action you took “failed” or didn’t achieve the exact desired effect. As long as you took action with the right mindset, and having put in significant thought and preparation and intention, it will move you forward.
With all of this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Action, of which this is the introductory post, where I will give you ideas for concrete actions you can take to overcome depression, and more broadly to change yourself .
This will be perhaps the most important category of this blog, at least from the perspective of taking action to overcome depression.
Some of my ideas may sound ridiculous. Know that they are just that – ideas.
Whether or not you try them is up to you. Whether or not they work is also up to you.
Whether or not you can overcome depression, or whatever other difficulties you may face in the course of your life, is ultimately up to you.
Ideas hold powerful potential, but they are useless unless someone uses them – puts them into action.
Just keep in mind that even if a particular idea sounds stupid or doesn’t work for you, that’s perfectly okay. Don’t get discouraged.
But it’s crucial that you keep an open mind and be willing to try things out, because you never know what might work. Keep on trying, and keep on keeping on. And if something doesn’t achieve its desired effect, I guarantee you’ll still learn from it if you pay attention.
I wish you all the best as you take action to overcome the important challenges that face you, and come out stronger and better for it.
Read the continuation post for my first idea. It will be an unusual one – it comes from a memory of an important experience of mine.
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
I love words and the incredible transformative power they hold, but in my heart I truly appreciate that no words I can put down on paper or say out loud will ever match the right action, taken at the right time, with the right intentions behind it.
At risk of sounding like a broken record, I’m going to repeat Leonard Schlesinger’s prescient words:
You can act your way into new ways of thinking.
Just to be clear, we do not at all condone the sort of condescension that says, “Get up off the couch, you bum.” No, that is not at all what we advocate. In fact, being that sort of a disciplinarian to yourself often backfires, though it may work for some people.
But before you can take meaningful action, you must believe in yourself.
This belief can be flimsy and tenuous and utterly pathetic, but it must be there, at least to some degree. Otherwise you’ll just be moving muscles, and expending ATP (energy). You’ll just be going through meaningless motions.
But so long as this spark of belief exists, you must begin to take concrete action to uplift yourself.
And you must take this action with the right thought and intention behind it.
It is thought and preparation and intention that lend action its power.
If done with the proper mindset, your action should help you believe in yourself, and that should inspire further action, and stronger belief, and so on, in a powerful positive feedback loop.
It doesn’t matter if the action you took “failed” or didn’t achieve the exact desired effect. As long as you took action with the right mindset, and having put in significant thought and preparation and intention, it will move you forward.
With all of this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Action, of which this is the introductory post, where I will give you ideas for concrete actions you can take to overcome depression, and more broadly to change yourself .
This will be perhaps the most important category of this blog, at least from the perspective of taking action to overcome depression.
Some of my ideas may sound ridiculous. Know that they are just that – ideas.
Whether or not you try them is up to you. Whether or not they work is also up to you.
Whether or not you can overcome depression, or whatever other difficulties you may face in the course of your life, is ultimately up to you.
Ideas hold powerful potential, but they are useless unless someone uses them – puts them into action.
Just keep in mind that even if a particular idea sounds stupid or doesn’t work for you, that’s perfectly okay. Don’t get discouraged.
But it’s crucial that you keep an open mind and be willing to try things out, because you never know what might work. Keep on trying, and keep on keeping on. And if something doesn’t achieve its desired effect, I guarantee you’ll still learn from it if you pay attention.
I wish you all the best as you take action to overcome the important challenges that face you, and come out stronger and better for it.
Read the continuation post for my first idea. It will be an unusual one – it comes from a memory of an important experience of mine.
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
On Camaraderie with Strangers – Intro
So much of our venture hinges on social connections, and that’s because social connections are crucial to happiness, and to both mental and physical health.
Some people are blessed with a strong social environment – they have close-knit families, a group of supportive friends, and coworkers who share the same passions. These things go an incredibly long way to promote wellbeing.
But many of us don’t have quite so many people supporting us. You hear terms like “Loneliness Epidemic” tossed around these days, and really it’s abundantly clear on its own, w/o journalists having to declare it, that too many people struggle to find companionship.
Let me be clear: To be alone for any extended period of time, whether physically or mentally (or both), can cause real pain.
This is not a weakness – it is simply a product of human nature to desire and seek out company.
And while being alone can teach you volumes about yourself, and can give you great strength, ultimately it’s not good for you. We can’t all be expected to be Zen, and frankly it’s just not necessary. The desire for rapport should and must be expressed.
In just a few days, I’ve already seen this very strongly in the modeling world. Many models seem to have an irrepressible desire to connect – to bond with each other, if only briefly. Outside in waiting rooms, we share small talk and sometimes life stories and well wishes, and we comfort each other when we’ve been treated coldly by the people who hold the purse strings. (Of course, many models also seem to be utterly cutthroat and self-absorbed, and won’t even look at you)
Yesterday, after one swift rejection, I randomly bumped into another model who’d been rejected right before me, out in the street.
“Well that was brutal, huh?” he joked.
“It happens.”
“You going to the other one right now? There’s one in 20 minutes, we can walk together.”
“Which one? Oh you mean ReQuest? I already went to that one, they let me go early. Good luck man.”
Outside an agency in Boston, I met a 16-year-old triple threat (shoutout to Tori and best of luck) who also figure skated for the Hungarian Nationals team. This girl, her mother, and I talked for about 15 minutes while waiting for the director of the agency to see us. Over the course of the conversation, I discovered they were from Deep River, CT. Coincidentally I’d been in Deep River for the first time just days before our meeting. They were shocked to hear I knew about the Cumberland Farms and the Da Vinci’s pizza place there – Deep River’s (ever-so-modest) claim to fame. Before we parted ways, the mother offered me free room and board anytime I was in Deep River.
I’ve come to realize the incredible value of connecting with strangers, if only briefly.
It fills the emptiness that can loom and threaten to crush you if you’re taking a path that’s outside of the mainstream.
And it really inspires and refreshes your faith in humanity.
With all of this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Camaraderie with Strangers, of which this is the introductory post, where I will chronicle the brief connections I make with random people that cross my path.
I hope to show you just how good most people are (despite an overwhelming pessimism I encounter in many people who seem to believe that most people suck), and to show you how you can enrich your life by stepping outside your comfort zone and introducing yourself.
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Some people are blessed with a strong social environment – they have close-knit families, a group of supportive friends, and coworkers who share the same passions. These things go an incredibly long way to promote wellbeing.
But many of us don’t have quite so many people supporting us. You hear terms like “Loneliness Epidemic” tossed around these days, and really it’s abundantly clear on its own, w/o journalists having to declare it, that too many people struggle to find companionship.
Let me be clear: To be alone for any extended period of time, whether physically or mentally (or both), can cause real pain.
This is not a weakness – it is simply a product of human nature to desire and seek out company.
And while being alone can teach you volumes about yourself, and can give you great strength, ultimately it’s not good for you. We can’t all be expected to be Zen, and frankly it’s just not necessary. The desire for rapport should and must be expressed.
In just a few days, I’ve already seen this very strongly in the modeling world. Many models seem to have an irrepressible desire to connect – to bond with each other, if only briefly. Outside in waiting rooms, we share small talk and sometimes life stories and well wishes, and we comfort each other when we’ve been treated coldly by the people who hold the purse strings. (Of course, many models also seem to be utterly cutthroat and self-absorbed, and won’t even look at you)
Yesterday, after one swift rejection, I randomly bumped into another model who’d been rejected right before me, out in the street.
“Well that was brutal, huh?” he joked.
“It happens.”
“You going to the other one right now? There’s one in 20 minutes, we can walk together.”
“Which one? Oh you mean ReQuest? I already went to that one, they let me go early. Good luck man.”
Outside an agency in Boston, I met a 16-year-old triple threat (shoutout to Tori and best of luck) who also figure skated for the Hungarian Nationals team. This girl, her mother, and I talked for about 15 minutes while waiting for the director of the agency to see us. Over the course of the conversation, I discovered they were from Deep River, CT. Coincidentally I’d been in Deep River for the first time just days before our meeting. They were shocked to hear I knew about the Cumberland Farms and the Da Vinci’s pizza place there – Deep River’s (ever-so-modest) claim to fame. Before we parted ways, the mother offered me free room and board anytime I was in Deep River.
I’ve come to realize the incredible value of connecting with strangers, if only briefly.
It fills the emptiness that can loom and threaten to crush you if you’re taking a path that’s outside of the mainstream.
And it really inspires and refreshes your faith in humanity.
With all of this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Camaraderie with Strangers, of which this is the introductory post, where I will chronicle the brief connections I make with random people that cross my path.
I hope to show you just how good most people are (despite an overwhelming pessimism I encounter in many people who seem to believe that most people suck), and to show you how you can enrich your life by stepping outside your comfort zone and introducing yourself.
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
On Rejection – Intro (New York Model Management)
Many problems that revolve around self-worth (among them depression) seem to stem partly from the inability to deal with rejection in a constructive way.
From the words you read on this blog, I may come off as confident and determined and able to brush off anything, but you should know that for the overwhelming majority of my life, I was quite possibly the most insecure person I’ve ever known.
Again, it is very important for you to understand that although I now have the strength and the willingness to put myself in very uncomfortable situations for the sake of getting things done, at one point in my life I was painfully unsure of myself.
A lot of that had to do with perfectionism and the intimately related fear of failure, and for several other reasons too, but for now I will focus on the inability to handle rejection.
Rejection-sensitivity, whether in the form of fear beforehand or a negative reaction afterwards, is one of the biggest inhibitors to success. This is the case when it comes to personal successes, yes, but also the more tangible successes, like making money, for instance.
If used properly, rejection should educate you of your shortcomings while simultaneously fueling your desire to succeed.
That is, it first gives you some of the tools you need to succeed (self-knowledge and awareness), and then the motivation to succeed (“I will prove wrong everyone who doubted me, even myself if necessary”).
The only costs to making full use of rejection are courage and the willingness to suspend your ego.
Both of these can and must be practiced.
You could probably, if you tried hard enough, artificially create the psychological circumstances that would allow you to practice the skill of commanding rejection. But I’d strongly advocate you skip the training wheels and just put yourself in real situations right away. Why slow the process down?
To illustrate a little of the kind of mindset I’m talking about, let me go personal-anecdotal for a moment:
Late Monday afternoon, I finally procured my comp cards from Model Club Inc., the modeling agency that represents me in Boston (a comp card is sort of like a photo resume). For the first time, I finally (I guess) earned the right to meet the director of the agency. He told me I shouldn’t have too much trouble finding jobs in Boston because I can pass for a wide age range – from late teens all the way to late twenties.
Well, given that I’ll be spending at least my weekends in NYC for the next few months, I figured I’d take my comp cards to modeling agencies in NYC and try to model there too. On the DL, of course, although it’s actually allowed according to my contract, since as a model I’m technically considered “self-employed” even though I (and the agency) have certain obligations.
Anyway, immediately after I drove back from Boston, I checked online for open calls in NYC. It turned out New York Model Management would be holding one the very next day from 10:30 to 11:30 AM.
Not one to wait (time = jobs = money), I called up a friend (shoutout to my good friend Andrew), asked if I could crash at his place, then drove the 5 hours back to Princeton, arriving late at night and bone-tired from the day and the commute.
Bright and early next morning, I was on a train to NYC. About twenty minutes before 10:30, I got to New York Model Management on the 7th floor of 596 Broadway, and rather quickly I realized I was out of my league. I knew this because according to some of their literature, they represent Sports Illustrated Swimsuit models and lay claim to the #1 male model in the industry (whatever that means).
Needless to say, I was rejected. I did make it farther than some of the (much better dressed) models, though. People w/o comp cards were straight out turned away, and frankly some of these hawt guys were just too arrogant for their own good.
But I didn’t even make it through the opaque glass walls, to the area where you could hear the VIPs were contentedly chatting about what sounded like absolute horseshit.
That’s one thing you may be interested to know about hot shot modeling agencies: to cover up what sounds to the objective outsider like a bunch of elitist assholery (maybe there’s more to it when you peel the onion), they hire the nicest guy possible as the front-man. That guy was nice…softspoken, and polite, and brotherly, and the antithesis of what the other people seemed to be like.
But I digress.
The very kind front-man went in with my comp card and my application, and ten seconds later came out with my (rapid) rejection, blunted ever so slightly by his softspoken voice. He then repeated this exact same process with 4 other models – only one of us made it through, at least during the first minutes of the open call, and I have no idea if he actually made any progress beyond that. (Judging by the photos that lined their walls, they were going more for either dangerous hipster, or Euro-sophistication w/Nordic features…that kind of feel…no Asians in sight)
But here’s the important part: after our rapid succession of rejections, he offered to give each of us a list of legitimate modeling agencies in NYC, and their numbers.
Some of my fellow rejects rejected this peace offering. Others took it (seemingly) lackadaisically, glanced at it, then shoved it away.
I looked at this thing like it was a big nugget of gold.
Alright, it wasn’t that precious, but it really was a lot more convenient than having to individually research agencies online. Turns out there are some bogus agencies out there, and sometimes they even purchase real estate and hire people to set up a front and con people. It would be a pain in the ass to have to check the Better Business Bureau for the legitimacy ratings of every single agency you stumble upon.
So in short – HOW I HANDLED MY REJECTION:
I stood just outside the waiting room of New York Model Management and called up every single modeling agency on the list (36 of them), and found out the dates and times of their open calls (many don’t do open calls, and many don’t represent men).
It’s 6:30 AM right now, and in half an hour or so, I’ll be in my car, on my way to Princeton Junction to catch a train to New York Penn Station.
And I’ll be doing this every single day for the rest of the week.
Do I really care about modeling? No.
I hardly ever treat my pursuits this lightly, but in the long run I honestly don’t give a shit about modeling (what blasphemy). In the short run here and now, I badly need the money, but to some extent, I even vehemently resent the whole industry for what it represents and for what it encourages, both in its models and in society as a whole.
Still, I recognize that it’s an art form, and that some people derive value from creating it or from looking at/wearing its products. I see modeling as an opportunity to make some much needed money, to network with people who might one day help me, and to possibly gain attention that I can leverage to my advantage. Above all, I see it as a chance to learn – to acquire a deeper understanding of myself, to better understand other people, and to apply this knowledge to our venture and anything else I will ever choose to pursue. You never know whom you might meet, or what you might learn, that will give you an epiphany of understanding, or an incredible opportunity. So don’t nix those chances by fearing rejection, or handling it negatively.
The point is, I embraced my rejection and turned it into opportunity, and eventually into a story.
After it's all said and done, that's what everything becomes - just a story.
And at the end of the day, that’s all you’ve got – your memories. Strip away everything I have, and I’ll still have my memories to keep me company. Throw me in solitary, and I’ll try my damn hardest to cling to my memories as an anchor to keep me sane. That’s how Sirius survived Azkaban, is it not? (sorry, but my generation = Harry Potter)
Some of the best stories come from rejection. Rejection stories are battle scars, and you can learn from them and even use them to entertain.
So with all of this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Rejection, of which this is the introductory post, where I will chronicle my (sure to be) many rejections and draw out the humor and insight in them.
Hopefully you’ll learn a bit about what it’s like to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and go at it again…and again…and again…and again.
Keep in mind that through time and practice (and to some extent necessity), I’ve fully 180ed my strong innate tendency to doubt myself. At some point, I will almost certainly share with you more stories from my past, to fully illustrate the full extent of this reversal.
And I absolutely am nothing special – anyone can do the same.
So check back in for more of my rejection stories! Feel free to share your own stories too!
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
From the words you read on this blog, I may come off as confident and determined and able to brush off anything, but you should know that for the overwhelming majority of my life, I was quite possibly the most insecure person I’ve ever known.
Again, it is very important for you to understand that although I now have the strength and the willingness to put myself in very uncomfortable situations for the sake of getting things done, at one point in my life I was painfully unsure of myself.
A lot of that had to do with perfectionism and the intimately related fear of failure, and for several other reasons too, but for now I will focus on the inability to handle rejection.
Rejection-sensitivity, whether in the form of fear beforehand or a negative reaction afterwards, is one of the biggest inhibitors to success. This is the case when it comes to personal successes, yes, but also the more tangible successes, like making money, for instance.
If used properly, rejection should educate you of your shortcomings while simultaneously fueling your desire to succeed.
That is, it first gives you some of the tools you need to succeed (self-knowledge and awareness), and then the motivation to succeed (“I will prove wrong everyone who doubted me, even myself if necessary”).
The only costs to making full use of rejection are courage and the willingness to suspend your ego.
Both of these can and must be practiced.
You could probably, if you tried hard enough, artificially create the psychological circumstances that would allow you to practice the skill of commanding rejection. But I’d strongly advocate you skip the training wheels and just put yourself in real situations right away. Why slow the process down?
To illustrate a little of the kind of mindset I’m talking about, let me go personal-anecdotal for a moment:
Late Monday afternoon, I finally procured my comp cards from Model Club Inc., the modeling agency that represents me in Boston (a comp card is sort of like a photo resume). For the first time, I finally (I guess) earned the right to meet the director of the agency. He told me I shouldn’t have too much trouble finding jobs in Boston because I can pass for a wide age range – from late teens all the way to late twenties.
Well, given that I’ll be spending at least my weekends in NYC for the next few months, I figured I’d take my comp cards to modeling agencies in NYC and try to model there too. On the DL, of course, although it’s actually allowed according to my contract, since as a model I’m technically considered “self-employed” even though I (and the agency) have certain obligations.
Anyway, immediately after I drove back from Boston, I checked online for open calls in NYC. It turned out New York Model Management would be holding one the very next day from 10:30 to 11:30 AM.
Not one to wait (time = jobs = money), I called up a friend (shoutout to my good friend Andrew), asked if I could crash at his place, then drove the 5 hours back to Princeton, arriving late at night and bone-tired from the day and the commute.
Bright and early next morning, I was on a train to NYC. About twenty minutes before 10:30, I got to New York Model Management on the 7th floor of 596 Broadway, and rather quickly I realized I was out of my league. I knew this because according to some of their literature, they represent Sports Illustrated Swimsuit models and lay claim to the #1 male model in the industry (whatever that means).
Needless to say, I was rejected. I did make it farther than some of the (much better dressed) models, though. People w/o comp cards were straight out turned away, and frankly some of these hawt guys were just too arrogant for their own good.
But I didn’t even make it through the opaque glass walls, to the area where you could hear the VIPs were contentedly chatting about what sounded like absolute horseshit.
That’s one thing you may be interested to know about hot shot modeling agencies: to cover up what sounds to the objective outsider like a bunch of elitist assholery (maybe there’s more to it when you peel the onion), they hire the nicest guy possible as the front-man. That guy was nice…softspoken, and polite, and brotherly, and the antithesis of what the other people seemed to be like.
But I digress.
The very kind front-man went in with my comp card and my application, and ten seconds later came out with my (rapid) rejection, blunted ever so slightly by his softspoken voice. He then repeated this exact same process with 4 other models – only one of us made it through, at least during the first minutes of the open call, and I have no idea if he actually made any progress beyond that. (Judging by the photos that lined their walls, they were going more for either dangerous hipster, or Euro-sophistication w/Nordic features…that kind of feel…no Asians in sight)
But here’s the important part: after our rapid succession of rejections, he offered to give each of us a list of legitimate modeling agencies in NYC, and their numbers.
Some of my fellow rejects rejected this peace offering. Others took it (seemingly) lackadaisically, glanced at it, then shoved it away.
I looked at this thing like it was a big nugget of gold.
Alright, it wasn’t that precious, but it really was a lot more convenient than having to individually research agencies online. Turns out there are some bogus agencies out there, and sometimes they even purchase real estate and hire people to set up a front and con people. It would be a pain in the ass to have to check the Better Business Bureau for the legitimacy ratings of every single agency you stumble upon.
So in short – HOW I HANDLED MY REJECTION:
I stood just outside the waiting room of New York Model Management and called up every single modeling agency on the list (36 of them), and found out the dates and times of their open calls (many don’t do open calls, and many don’t represent men).
It’s 6:30 AM right now, and in half an hour or so, I’ll be in my car, on my way to Princeton Junction to catch a train to New York Penn Station.
And I’ll be doing this every single day for the rest of the week.
Do I really care about modeling? No.
I hardly ever treat my pursuits this lightly, but in the long run I honestly don’t give a shit about modeling (what blasphemy). In the short run here and now, I badly need the money, but to some extent, I even vehemently resent the whole industry for what it represents and for what it encourages, both in its models and in society as a whole.
Still, I recognize that it’s an art form, and that some people derive value from creating it or from looking at/wearing its products. I see modeling as an opportunity to make some much needed money, to network with people who might one day help me, and to possibly gain attention that I can leverage to my advantage. Above all, I see it as a chance to learn – to acquire a deeper understanding of myself, to better understand other people, and to apply this knowledge to our venture and anything else I will ever choose to pursue. You never know whom you might meet, or what you might learn, that will give you an epiphany of understanding, or an incredible opportunity. So don’t nix those chances by fearing rejection, or handling it negatively.
The point is, I embraced my rejection and turned it into opportunity, and eventually into a story.
After it's all said and done, that's what everything becomes - just a story.
And at the end of the day, that’s all you’ve got – your memories. Strip away everything I have, and I’ll still have my memories to keep me company. Throw me in solitary, and I’ll try my damn hardest to cling to my memories as an anchor to keep me sane. That’s how Sirius survived Azkaban, is it not? (sorry, but my generation = Harry Potter)
Some of the best stories come from rejection. Rejection stories are battle scars, and you can learn from them and even use them to entertain.
So with all of this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Rejection, of which this is the introductory post, where I will chronicle my (sure to be) many rejections and draw out the humor and insight in them.
Hopefully you’ll learn a bit about what it’s like to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and go at it again…and again…and again…and again.
Keep in mind that through time and practice (and to some extent necessity), I’ve fully 180ed my strong innate tendency to doubt myself. At some point, I will almost certainly share with you more stories from my past, to fully illustrate the full extent of this reversal.
And I absolutely am nothing special – anyone can do the same.
So check back in for more of my rejection stories! Feel free to share your own stories too!
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Monday, November 30, 2009
On This Blog - Intro (Statement of Intent)
When you start a new venture, it’s always good to formulate in your mind what it is you’re trying to do.
Even better than formulating it in your mind is writing it down. Putting words on paper forces you to see whether or not you’ve thought things out to the extent that you think you did, and to the extent that you definitely need to have.
It forces you to be real with yourself.
This is not to say that things won’t change. In fact, they should change – if they don’t, you’re doing something wrong. Because no one is so brilliant they can conceive in their mind the perfect flawless plan.
Here’s a clip of what Randy Komisar has to say on business plans (check out his book, “The Monk and the Riddle,” and also “Getting to Plan B,” they’re great reads for everyone, not just entrepreneurs):
“Plans are too often a straightjacket for innovation. They are built on dreams and assumptions. Without more, they are likely to fail…”
That being said, it’s still necessary to have a Plan A. So here goes. This is how I now (at this moment in time) envision this blog, and here are the goals I have for it:
1 I will use it to establish myself as a major voice in the arena of youth (motivated) depression
2 It will force me to incrementally write portions of my book (more on that to come in a later post)
3 Soon (I know the content is heavily personal so far) it will provide resources for those who suffer from depression – all with my own personal twist, of course. For now, I’m thinking almost SparkNotes for available depression resources, but more entertaining.
4 I will use it as a platform to carry out brainstorming for my social venture
5 Perhaps my greatest hope for it: Through this blog, I will assemble a mastermind alliance of people – sufferers of depression, friends of those who suffer from depression, health professionals, entrepreneurs, innovative thinkers, etc – who together will solve the challenge of helping the motivated depressed defeat their depression and unleash their potential upon the world. (read Napolean Hill’s “Keys to Success” for an understanding of the term mastermind alliance)
6 And lastly, I will use it to chronicle my journey and enrich my life.
So there it is!
And now that I’ve formulated Plan A, I can metaphorically crumple up the plan, and with an elegant flick of my wrist (I'm an ultimate player), toss it out.
Any real entrepreneur knows that business is more about rolling up the sleeves and doing things than talking about them and planning to do them, right?
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Even better than formulating it in your mind is writing it down. Putting words on paper forces you to see whether or not you’ve thought things out to the extent that you think you did, and to the extent that you definitely need to have.
It forces you to be real with yourself.
This is not to say that things won’t change. In fact, they should change – if they don’t, you’re doing something wrong. Because no one is so brilliant they can conceive in their mind the perfect flawless plan.
Here’s a clip of what Randy Komisar has to say on business plans (check out his book, “The Monk and the Riddle,” and also “Getting to Plan B,” they’re great reads for everyone, not just entrepreneurs):
“Plans are too often a straightjacket for innovation. They are built on dreams and assumptions. Without more, they are likely to fail…”
That being said, it’s still necessary to have a Plan A. So here goes. This is how I now (at this moment in time) envision this blog, and here are the goals I have for it:
1 I will use it to establish myself as a major voice in the arena of youth (motivated) depression
2 It will force me to incrementally write portions of my book (more on that to come in a later post)
3 Soon (I know the content is heavily personal so far) it will provide resources for those who suffer from depression – all with my own personal twist, of course. For now, I’m thinking almost SparkNotes for available depression resources, but more entertaining.
4 I will use it as a platform to carry out brainstorming for my social venture
5 Perhaps my greatest hope for it: Through this blog, I will assemble a mastermind alliance of people – sufferers of depression, friends of those who suffer from depression, health professionals, entrepreneurs, innovative thinkers, etc – who together will solve the challenge of helping the motivated depressed defeat their depression and unleash their potential upon the world. (read Napolean Hill’s “Keys to Success” for an understanding of the term mastermind alliance)
6 And lastly, I will use it to chronicle my journey and enrich my life.
So there it is!
And now that I’ve formulated Plan A, I can metaphorically crumple up the plan, and with an elegant flick of my wrist (I'm an ultimate player), toss it out.
Any real entrepreneur knows that business is more about rolling up the sleeves and doing things than talking about them and planning to do them, right?
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
On Motivation - Intro
If you’ve ever experienced depression, you realize pretty quickly that finding motivation becomes a primary challenge in everything you do.
First, there are the physical hurdles: loss of energy, lethargy, problems sleeping (for example, sleeping excessively and the inability to rise from bed), feeling fatigued or weak, problems with sexual function, all of the bodily aches (and headaches), and just in general a feeling of malaise that inhibits motivation.
Many of us also experience the psychological hurdles. We get a sense of futility and hopelessness and think, “Why does that matter? Why does anything matter?”
We see how bleary reality is, and wonder why the rest of the world doesn’t understand that they spend the overwhelming majority of each day thinking and talking about absolute horseshit.
OMG guys, did you hear about Miley’s nip slip?
Even when we’re with friends and the topic of discussion proves to be more substantial than celebrity gossip, conversations often wind up becoming contests of wit, with each contestant aiming more to impress and overpower than to articulate and learn. And while this can sometimes be enormously fun, especially if things get a little bawdy, the depressed person sees through this veneer of braggadocio with all the superhuman ability of, well…Superman.
The point is, nothing seems worthwhile, and motivation goes vamoose.
So with this in mind, I’ve decided to start an ongoing series of posts on Motivation, of which this is the introductory post. Check back in soon for more!
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
First, there are the physical hurdles: loss of energy, lethargy, problems sleeping (for example, sleeping excessively and the inability to rise from bed), feeling fatigued or weak, problems with sexual function, all of the bodily aches (and headaches), and just in general a feeling of malaise that inhibits motivation.
Many of us also experience the psychological hurdles. We get a sense of futility and hopelessness and think, “Why does that matter? Why does anything matter?”
We see how bleary reality is, and wonder why the rest of the world doesn’t understand that they spend the overwhelming majority of each day thinking and talking about absolute horseshit.
OMG guys, did you hear about Miley’s nip slip?
Even when we’re with friends and the topic of discussion proves to be more substantial than celebrity gossip, conversations often wind up becoming contests of wit, with each contestant aiming more to impress and overpower than to articulate and learn. And while this can sometimes be enormously fun, especially if things get a little bawdy, the depressed person sees through this veneer of braggadocio with all the superhuman ability of, well…Superman.
The point is, nothing seems worthwhile, and motivation goes vamoose.
So with this in mind, I’ve decided to start an ongoing series of posts on Motivation, of which this is the introductory post. Check back in soon for more!
-David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Introductions - This shit is getting more and more like Good Will Hunting
Alright, I’m not a genius. I don’t have a photographic memory. And I’m not hot on a Matt Damon level.
But that’s where the dissimilarities end! Because I do live near Boston, I am skeptical of the value of formal education for most individuals (at least from the perspective of trying to learn things), and I do love learning in my spare time – technically all the time now that I’m a college dropout and don’t have “real” obligations.
But I should rewind…
This being the first blog entry of my first ever blog, I’m not so sure I know what I’m doing, really. But one of the best things in life is learning on the fly, because that’s when you get that shot of productive anxiety and your brain starts to fire on all cylinders! So here goes! Here’s a little bit about me, culminating in a fuller explication of the title of this blog entry:
My name is David Hu. If you were involved in the NJ high school ultimate scene, you may have known me as Dbacks, #13. I enjoy biking (though I don’t own a bike right now), stories, playing sports (not watching, not discussing, nor any of the other inferior substitutes), learning, reading, thinking, people, and taking action.
I do not enjoy putting myself in the tidy little boxes that are categorizations, which makes this intro entry somewhat more difficult. But here’s a WAY CONDENSED timeline of my life (I hope I’m not boring you silly with my self-centeredness):
I was born in Milwaukee, WI.
Grew up in Princeton, NJ in 5 different neighborhoods.
Hated high school.
Went to college for a little over a year at the University of Chicago.
Dropped out to battle severe depression.
Acquired fairly in-depth first-hand experience with the mental health industry.
Went to China and self-medicated with alcohol for a few months.
Returned to the States in the worst state of my life.
Hit rock bottom, but survived.
Found hope, clung to it like a motherfucker, and defeated said depression.
Enrolled at Rutgers for a month.
Dropped out to stop wasting my time and start pursuing my dreams.
Dropped in on the school of life.
Packed and drove to Waltham, MA, where my close friend goes to Brandeis.
Stumbled upon the Olin-Babson-Wellesley complex, just 5 miles south of Brandeis.
Befriended some Oliners, and through them heard about Fan Bi, an incredible guy and successful college entrepreneur (check out the sweet website for his company: http://www.blank-label.com/).
Met with and learned from Fan Bi for several hours a few afternoons ago, at the end of which he suggested I start a blog and find a job at a place where I’d have access to smart people who could help me do what I’m trying to do (start a social venture that will help college students – and others – overcome the debilitating adversity that is depression).
Realized that I’m pretty much gonna try to be Will Hunting and hang around med schools and other such credible organizations where there’s a plethora of smart people just waiting for their brains to be picked (ideally), sometime in the very near future.
Wrote this blog entry.
I’m going to end with a quote:
“When you go through times in your life that are quite a bit testing, and you come out, you find a strength that is unassailable, and you don’t know where you get it from, but you do…”
-Nerina Pallot
I’ve found this unassailable strength within me, and it’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.
I hope that I can help you to find the unassailable strength in you.
And that’s all I’ve got for this first entry. Check back in later! And feel free to introduce yourself!
Your friend,
David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
But that’s where the dissimilarities end! Because I do live near Boston, I am skeptical of the value of formal education for most individuals (at least from the perspective of trying to learn things), and I do love learning in my spare time – technically all the time now that I’m a college dropout and don’t have “real” obligations.
But I should rewind…
This being the first blog entry of my first ever blog, I’m not so sure I know what I’m doing, really. But one of the best things in life is learning on the fly, because that’s when you get that shot of productive anxiety and your brain starts to fire on all cylinders! So here goes! Here’s a little bit about me, culminating in a fuller explication of the title of this blog entry:
My name is David Hu. If you were involved in the NJ high school ultimate scene, you may have known me as Dbacks, #13. I enjoy biking (though I don’t own a bike right now), stories, playing sports (not watching, not discussing, nor any of the other inferior substitutes), learning, reading, thinking, people, and taking action.
I do not enjoy putting myself in the tidy little boxes that are categorizations, which makes this intro entry somewhat more difficult. But here’s a WAY CONDENSED timeline of my life (I hope I’m not boring you silly with my self-centeredness):
I was born in Milwaukee, WI.
Grew up in Princeton, NJ in 5 different neighborhoods.
Hated high school.
Went to college for a little over a year at the University of Chicago.
Dropped out to battle severe depression.
Acquired fairly in-depth first-hand experience with the mental health industry.
Went to China and self-medicated with alcohol for a few months.
Returned to the States in the worst state of my life.
Hit rock bottom, but survived.
Found hope, clung to it like a motherfucker, and defeated said depression.
Enrolled at Rutgers for a month.
Dropped out to stop wasting my time and start pursuing my dreams.
Dropped in on the school of life.
Packed and drove to Waltham, MA, where my close friend goes to Brandeis.
Stumbled upon the Olin-Babson-Wellesley complex, just 5 miles south of Brandeis.
Befriended some Oliners, and through them heard about Fan Bi, an incredible guy and successful college entrepreneur (check out the sweet website for his company: http://www.blank-label.com/).
Met with and learned from Fan Bi for several hours a few afternoons ago, at the end of which he suggested I start a blog and find a job at a place where I’d have access to smart people who could help me do what I’m trying to do (start a social venture that will help college students – and others – overcome the debilitating adversity that is depression).
Realized that I’m pretty much gonna try to be Will Hunting and hang around med schools and other such credible organizations where there’s a plethora of smart people just waiting for their brains to be picked (ideally), sometime in the very near future.
Wrote this blog entry.
I’m going to end with a quote:
“When you go through times in your life that are quite a bit testing, and you come out, you find a strength that is unassailable, and you don’t know where you get it from, but you do…”
-Nerina Pallot
I’ve found this unassailable strength within me, and it’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.
I hope that I can help you to find the unassailable strength in you.
And that’s all I’ve got for this first entry. Check back in later! And feel free to introduce yourself!
Your friend,
David
[nsn_quick_feedback]
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