Il Matto
Jedi
Programmes. Habitual ways of talking, of gesturing, of posturing, of responding to the rich tapestry of life circumstances. Most of us, if not all of us, have these to one degree or another; deeply ingrained programmes that run amok, until, that is, we learn to observe them, to identify them and perhaps even remove them from our system.
For my own part, there are occasional moments, both fleeting and infrequent, that bring certain programmes into focus. These are moments where, just briefly, I can observe a colourful range of odd idiosyncrasies, where laughable attempts to bolster a (very thin) veneer of being ‘knowledgeable’ or ‘interesting’ are laid bare, where I have a glimpse of the chasm that sometimes exists between how I think I am and how others may be experiencing me. I have come to think of these moments as precious, not just because they rare, but also because of the invaluable lessons they present.
So, how to experience more of these precious moments? For myself, the noble art of attempting to communicate in a language other than my native tongue has most often been the context for invaluable precious moments of awkward miscommunication and blushing .
I can’t help but find amusement when I recall my fumbling attempts at over-coming a language barrier, and the laughable feeling of indignation at being spoken to like a small child, only later to realise that of course I have to be spoken to in this way – I only have the language skills of a small child! There also seems to be something valuable in the necessity of having to think about the words that are about to come out of your mouth, the unfamiliarity of which brings idiosyncrasies of posture, gesture and tone of voice into focus. “Why on earth are you standing like that? Do you really think that wild gesticulation is helping? Are you really surprised by the blank look of incomprehension?” Somewhere, in amongst the embarrassment, is an important lesson in humility – if I could learn to welcome such feelings and observe them with amusement when they occur I may have made some progress .
Perhaps the most valuable part of this for me, however, is the effort it takes to voluntarily put myself in these situations. Each and every time a (socially acceptable) opportunity presents itself, I have to first overcome those familiar old programmes of not wanting to seem foolish or incompetent, and that threaten to keep me in the comfort of my own internal world and pretend others don’t exist (things at which many of my fellow Londoners are quite proficient ).
So, out of interest, what things do you use as a means of tackling those stubborn programmes? Do you also have to make efforts in order to welcome those precious moments of self-observation?
Many thanks,
Il Matto
For my own part, there are occasional moments, both fleeting and infrequent, that bring certain programmes into focus. These are moments where, just briefly, I can observe a colourful range of odd idiosyncrasies, where laughable attempts to bolster a (very thin) veneer of being ‘knowledgeable’ or ‘interesting’ are laid bare, where I have a glimpse of the chasm that sometimes exists between how I think I am and how others may be experiencing me. I have come to think of these moments as precious, not just because they rare, but also because of the invaluable lessons they present.
So, how to experience more of these precious moments? For myself, the noble art of attempting to communicate in a language other than my native tongue has most often been the context for invaluable precious moments of awkward miscommunication and blushing .
I can’t help but find amusement when I recall my fumbling attempts at over-coming a language barrier, and the laughable feeling of indignation at being spoken to like a small child, only later to realise that of course I have to be spoken to in this way – I only have the language skills of a small child! There also seems to be something valuable in the necessity of having to think about the words that are about to come out of your mouth, the unfamiliarity of which brings idiosyncrasies of posture, gesture and tone of voice into focus. “Why on earth are you standing like that? Do you really think that wild gesticulation is helping? Are you really surprised by the blank look of incomprehension?” Somewhere, in amongst the embarrassment, is an important lesson in humility – if I could learn to welcome such feelings and observe them with amusement when they occur I may have made some progress .
Perhaps the most valuable part of this for me, however, is the effort it takes to voluntarily put myself in these situations. Each and every time a (socially acceptable) opportunity presents itself, I have to first overcome those familiar old programmes of not wanting to seem foolish or incompetent, and that threaten to keep me in the comfort of my own internal world and pretend others don’t exist (things at which many of my fellow Londoners are quite proficient ).
So, out of interest, what things do you use as a means of tackling those stubborn programmes? Do you also have to make efforts in order to welcome those precious moments of self-observation?
Many thanks,
Il Matto