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My daughter Samantha has a friend named Holly. A couple of weeks ago Holly’s mom, Ann, came over to meet me before taking Sam somewhere, just so I’d know who my kid was with. My office is currently full of guitars in various states of repair, so she asked the obvious question, and I said, “I’m learning, and I’m in the middle of trying to rebuild my first, very cheap guitar, when I feel like it.”
She said, “I’ve always wanted to learn to play.” Usually I’m not very sympathetic to “I’ve always wanted to….” But I was like that with guitar for a long time, so I said, “I know. I didn’t think I could, but I finally just bought a cheap guitar and a DVD and jumped in. Then I bought a better guitar as soon as I could and realized I really wanted to keep playing. I don’t know very much, but I’m having a good time.”
I expected that to be the end of it, but last week I was sitting at my desk and I heard girls in the house, and looked up to see Ann standing in my office door. I invited her in and she said, “Where can I buy guitar strings here in town? It’s just for the guitar I bought Holly at Toys R Us, but I thought I’d pluck away at it and then buy a cheap guitar and look for some cheap lessons.” I directed her to Guitar Center for strings, with Amazon for later when she’s buying more at a time. I also pointed her to the library for books and DVDs to learn on her own. Next time I see her I’ll give her some pointers on what to look for and what to avoid in terms of beginner guitars.
Of course, I can’t tell her a lot about gear, except what I bought first and wish I hadn’t [a $60-including-shipping Huntington from eBay that was hard to play], what I wish I had bought first [a Jasmine by Takamine that goes on sale for $70 or $80 or can be bought used for that quite often], and what I bought next [a Dean Tradition Exotica with lacewood back and sides for $139 because it had a tiny chip in the headstock and then all clearance/used gear went on sale and I was watching for a deal].
Ann may decide not to play guitar after all, but she’ll make an active decision, and I’m glad to be a part of that. I’m glad to pass along the gift. I made my active decision after realizing that Denise Jones of Point of Grace, my favorite music group, recently learned to play guitar. I had always wanted to, but never really felt I could. Seeing her do it, I knew I could.
Now, I’m not planning to play guitar in a major band; Denise was already part of a successful group before she learned to play guitar. I just want to play guitar for myself, and that’s what I’m doing. That’s what her achievement convinced me I could do, and I’m glad I inspired someone else to at least think about it seriously.
I did not feel that way on another occasion when, after twenty years of honing my craft as a writer and building my career, I finally reached a major level of success. Someone told me I had “inspired” them and they were going to replicate my efforts by “writing a couple of articles and getting them published” so they would “have the credentials on paper” to “travel around the country speaking and have that travel paid for.”
Oh, sure. It only took me 20 years; you ought to be able to do it in two months. Why not? Write a couple of articles and get them published. Knock yourself out. It only took me about five years to get two articles published; it shouldn’t take you more than five minutes.
I’m flattered when someone is inspired by my actions and wants to take their own actions to get their own results.
When someone just wants my results without any work, and thinks if I can do it it must be easy…not so much flattery, more insulted and infuriated. You don’t get my results without my effort. And I put out prodigious amounts of effort on almost every project I pursue.
But I’m thrilled when I really do inspire someone and move them to see what their own efforts can produce. Whether that’s just plucking away on a Toys R Us guitar or actually taking lessons and learning to play well, it doesn’t really matter. I took up guitar to have fun and learn to write songs. Ann’s goal is probably just to have fun. And I hope she will.
I’m including a classic post that became a page on my website:
Are You the Angie Dixon Who…?
Maybe.
Here’s who I am not:
I am not “Angie Dixon 1993 graduating class of Bradford High School in Kenosha, WI,” #9 on Google at this writing. She’s younger than I am, and probably skinnier.
I am not “Download angie dixon pvc torrents. Download your favorite angie dixon pvc torrents at NowTorrents,” #11 on Google. I’m not even sure what “an angie dixon pvc torrent” is.
I am not “Angie Dixon’s Page on Eat the View: The White House Organic Garden Campaign,” who lives in Alton, Ill. I do, however, think the organic garden is a great idea if I do not have to tend it.
I am not “Take a Look Into My Life,” #15 on Google, but I really wish I had tweeted “I swear to GOD that people need to pray daily to the Lord to bestow some common sense on their DUMB ASSES!!!!”
I am not “Angie Dixon (St. Louis, MO),” (#18) although I did grow up in Missouri (but not in St. Louis)
I am not “Angie Dixon of Americredit Financial Services,” (#20) and the thought of my advising anyone else on finances is truly comical.
I am not “Angie Dixon. Director of Communications. 9Health Fair,” #21 on Google, although I have done pr writing in the past.
I am most definitely not “his ex-girlfriend, appellee Angie Dixon, filed a petition for the order based on allegations that Simmons had threatened her and her dog. …” (# 24).
I am also not “Angela Mae ‘Angie’ Dixon, d 21 Jul 1911, b 24 Nov 1796,” #25 on Google, who’s been dead for 98 years and almost certainly does not have her own blog.
I’m not an appraiser, and therefore not Angie Dixon in Bellingham, WA (#26)
I’m not Angie Dixon the artist (though I am a photographer), #27 on Google, who does some really interesting stuff.
Who am I? Here’s the short version:
I’m a writer
I’m a photographer
I’m a very active thinker and entrepreneur
I do a lot of stuff.
If you’re not sure it’s me, ask me. If I know, I’ll tell you
I find it interesting that people (and I most definitely include myself in this) make up things that we believe will happen if we do or don’t do something, and then base our behavior on that completely imaginary consequence. “I will die within X number of years if I keep doing Y.”
Then we keep doing it, and eventually we decide we’re about to die, so we take some drastic measure, which may or may not be well-advised in general, but is probably not going to save our lives at that point, because we’ve been making bad choices all our lives.
However, we’ve set ourselves up. We’ve told ourselves and anyone who would listen and plenty of people who wouldn’t that we would die if we didn’t do Y. Now we’re at the point of no return. So we do Y.
And if we’re alive after X years, we decide we saved ourselves. If we die first, it’s our fault.
This is just an example I thought of because I’ve been struggling with some health issues (though mine aren’t related to anything that affects my life-span).
We also do it in every other area of our lives. We don’t do what we know we should do, but we make up these arbitrary conditions or deadlines or other threats to force ourselves to do it. Then we tell the world about them, and eventually everyone believes they’re real, even us. And then we’re forced to abide by them.
I wonder. What would happen if I, just me, just for myself, just stopped making up these things I have to do to convince myself, stopped all the drama, and just did what I know is right and best?
For starters, I might not have my next migraine. I think that would be a good place to start. I can deal with everything else tomorrow. Just getting through a week without a migraine, without having to make up “rules” or “threats” for myself, would be a good start.
I recently read something funny in an email newsletter from Tamara Lowe. She said that when she turned 40 she wanted to see what snowboarding is like. “Snowboarding is pain.” Then she said that in snowboarding, you go where your head goes. Her instructor told her something like, “If there is a big tree on the mountain, and you look at it, you will hit it and you will probably die.”
I read this right before I went in for major surgery, and I remembered it. I am horribly afraid of pain. I’ve lived with a lot of pain, and I don’t like it. I have a tremendous fear of pain, equaled only by my fear of needles. (Note to self: avoid any situation in which I might be tortured.)
I did very well, before my surgery, in focusing on what my life would be like after the surgery—how much better I’d feel, the things I’d be able to do, the freedom from the pain I was in before.
But since the surgery, I’ve struggled with unbelievable migraines, again, and in the last three weeks, I’ve had migraines unlike any I have had in my life—and I thought I’d had migraines. From just migraines, I’ve graduated to migraines accompanied by some of the worst muscle tension I’ve ever experienced in my back and shoulders.
Earlier this week, I was talking to my best friend, and confessed that between the pain and the fear of pain, I was just about at the limit of what I thought I could stand; I didn’t know what to do.
Fortunately, my best friend listens to me better than I listen to myself, and caught the “fear of pain” part.
She immediately started strategizing, suggesting a massage, yoga, and other methods of relaxing and overcoming the stress and the fear.
And once I realized that the fear was there, and that it was controlling me, I stopped looking at it. Because if you look at the tree, you will hit it and you will probably die.
That was a couple of days ago. My back still hurts a lot. I got a massage a few hours ago, so now my back hurts more from having the muscles loosened up, than from the tension, and that will be better soon (but not tomorrow). I’m seeing my doctor tomorrow for a referral to a neurologist, so there is real hope on the migraine front. I will also ask my doctor for muscle relaxers to help me rest if the back pain flares up, so there’s something to wave in the fear’s face
Don’t look at the tree. Look anywhere but at the tree. The sky is nice this time of year.
Note to Facebook Viewers: Click on post to read full blog post
I talk a lot about only doing what I want to do, and I think sometimes people get the idea that I have this frivolous, slothful life where I only do exactly what I want, and nothing I don’t want to.
I do, and I don’t. You see, right now I would really like to clean toilets, but I can’t.
Yes, clean toilets.
Not that I particularly enjoy cleaning toilets, but no one else in the house does it to suit me, and I enjoy having a clean toilet. But I had major surgery a little less than three weeks ago, and getting up and down out of the floor is still out of my reach. So, I’m going to switch chores with someone else (someone shorter than me, which limits my choices to one), and supervise her in getting the toilets reasonably clean. In return, her clothes will be reasonably folded and reasonably put away.
I hear people say things like, “I don’t ____________ blank because it doesn’t interest me.” That’s one thing if _____________ is learning to rock climb; it’s another thing if it’s maintaining your living environment or your job skills or your mental or physical health.
There are many things that don’t interest me or that I don’t particularly enjoy in and of themselves. I’m not fond of putting gas in my car. In fact, I am fortunate that I hardly ever have to put gas in my car; I have someone in my home who does seem to enjoy the tank-filling ritual in itself. But if my tank is running low and I’m driving, you better believe I want to fill up that tank at the next opportunity.
Yes, I fill my life with things I want to do. Right now I’m finding things I want to do that aid my recovery from my surgery–reading, studying interesting things, learning to play the guitar–and that don’t take a lot of physical activity.
But I understand the importance of wanting to do things because I want the results.
I know we’re told “we can’t always just do what we want to do.”
Yes, I believe we can. “Have what you want but want what you have,” according to one of my favorite songs, “How You Live” by Point of Grace. I believe you can want what you have, and want to do what you need to do.
And when I do that, I can also figure out what things just don’t need to be done. For instance, right now the toilets need to be cleaned, but I think I can live with the dust on the back of the tank. Because I’m willing to fold her clothes, but I’m not willing to clean that room of hers for anything, and I’m not up to any more bathroom cleaning myself right now, either.
(Note: If you’re reading this on Facebook, click on the note to read the whole blog post)
I’ve been thinking lately about privacy, and just thought I’d share some random ideas and thoughts and stuff.
I found Google CEO Eric Schmidt’s comments interesting, after people objected to having Google Buzz automatically enabled and sharing their private information. If you missed it, he said, “If you have something you don’t want anyone to see, maybe you shouldn’t be doing it.”
While that sounds pretty good, there’s a big hole in that. For instance, I like to go to the toilet in private. And I generally like to keep my intimate life private. And I’m not really big on people knowing what kind of underwear I prefer. And for that matter…
My point being, we have an expectation, and a right, really, to choose what people know about us, not to have someone else decide what’s broadcast.
Earlier this morning I was reading an article about the erosion of privacy. The article had a lot of flaws and misstated a lot of research, but the comments were interesting, mostly because the vast majority were critical of people who choose to use social networking sites like Twitter and Facebook. Several even claimed that you forfeit your right to privacy by choosing to use such a site.
That, of course, is crap. You may forfeit your actual privacy, by giving up information you shouldn’t. But you don’t forfeit the right.
Personally, I enjoy Facebook, in limited quantities. But I look at it as a social gathering, and a public one at that. I give out very little information, and I try to behave as if I’m sitting with my friends at a party in the fellowship hall at my church. If I wouldn’t say it there, I don’t say it on Facebook. Because there is no such thing as privacy on Facebook; the privacy controls are too complex and too flexible.
I know this all seems kind of rambly, but I really am going somewhere. And that somewhere is, I do have a right to privacy, and I have a right to choose what I share online. But that right to choose is the important thing. I can choose to interact with groups of friends on Facebook, or not. It’s no one else’s business. I can choose to use Google Buzz, or not. I can choose to comment on blogs, or not. I can choose to write a blog, or not.
But it’s when someone else (Google, Facebook, or anyone else) decides what information the world needs to know about me, that I start having a problem. I didn’t turn on Google Buzz, and there wouldn’t have been much info in it anyway, but I would not have been happy to suddenly have all my private information shared, without my input as to whether to share it.
Sure, I probably would share that stuff if I used Buzz (I don’t). But I get to decide.
Okay, here’s the big secret I wasn’t going to share. For a shockingly long time, my favorite movie was Weekend at Bernie’s. Are you happy now?
I had a friend in college who intimidated the crap out of me.
She also impressed me with her intelligence, poise, humor, confidence and compassion.
Around the intimidating, that is.
Over the years (a lot of them) since leaving college, I’ve sort of molded my personality around who I thought my friend was. I say “sort of” and “thought” because, for starters, it’s been a long time, and also, we never really know another person.
Chances are I’m nothing like she was, or like she wanted to be. But that’s not really the point, you know? At a time when I really wasn’t happy with the life I had, I thought about what I wanted, and I saw, or remembered, someone I admired. I created an image of who I wanted to be, and that’s who I became.
And over time, that image became who I am.
It doesn’t really matter anymore if I am, or am not, like what’s-her-name; in the end I became who I really was. But I like to think she’d like the person I became.
Jim and I are celebrating our 18th wedding anniversary today. Well, so far we’ve each had a piece of streusel coffee cake.
Anyway, after 18 years, we still not only love each other, but really like each other, which to me is not only the important thing, but a real accomplishment.
Yesterday Jim wanted to read a book I’d checked out, a recent translation of The Iliad. I warned him it was difficult, but didn’t say anything else. After a few pages, he decided the epic poem style is not really for him. I recommended a two-novel epic I’d read, The Ilium and Olympos, by Dan Simmons, based on The Iliad, that I thought he might like better.
The important thing to note here is that he didn’t have to apologize to me for not liking a book I’d read, and I didn’t think he should like it because I did.
I have extremely eclectic tastes, particularly in books and knowledge. No one likes everything I do. And it would be boring if they did. I couldn’t tell anyone about anything new, and no one could tell me about anything I don’t know, because they’d be too busy with stuff I already know.
I don’t want a clone of me, and I don’t want to be a clone of anyone else.
And I find it really annoying when someone else tries to tell me what to like or do. Really annoying. We’ve all known people who think we should like something because they do, right? I once knew someone who refused to believe I didn’t like something, if she did. Whatever it was, if she was crazy about it, she’d load me down with books, food, magazines, or whatever, because “I know how much you love this.”"
“I don’t like this.”
“Yes, you do.”
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sure, it’s funny to you.
But the truth is, one of me is enough. And to bring us back to the original theme, I think the main reason Jim and I are so happy together after 18 years is that we’ve become more of ourselves, together, over 18 years. Right, dear?
I’ve been reading news and comments lately, since I haven’t been able to work much. I’ve been gobsmacked at the really stupid things people will say.
For instance, I read a really great article cautioning about the different ways credit card companies may increase rates or charge fees while complying with the new laws. A commenter started ranting about usury, and how credit card companies move from states with usury laws to states without (which is a reasonable, legal move on their part). Then he said, “Sure, they have a right to make a profit, but that doesn’t mean they have a right to make as much as they can.”
Actually, it does. As long as they comply with the law, they do have a right to make as much profit as they can. The government has a responsibility to insure that the law protects citizens, and people have a responsibility to understand the terms of the credit cards they use and to pay their bills. And credit card companies, like all businesses, do indeed have a right to make as much profit as they can.
I saw another one tonight. I’ve been following the story about the school district that allegedly spied on students with webcams. I know a lot about computers, and I know a lot about language. The school district’s stories, which have changed several times, don’t ring true.
So I was really interested to hear that the software company that made the "security software" the school keeps talking about, has basically called the school vigilantes and is issuing an update to the software (which is no longer updated, generally) to disable the webcam function).
The first comment on this article said, “So only our government is allowed to spy?”
Uh…yeah. If you don’t like the way our government uses its law enforcement powers, you’re free to lobby your legislators. But yes, only our government, and law enforcement officers, with appropriate authorization, can “spy,” as this commenter put it. And school districts have absolutely no law enforcement power. There is no way, under the Fourth Amendment, that a school district can enter and search a private home without the permission of the homeowner.
Why does this matter? Why can’t we just write these comments off as people who don’t know or care how to form an argument, or who don’t know or care about how the world really works?
Because these are the people who populate the world. These are the people who vote, who make decisions, who work with us and help us run our society. And sometimes, we are these people. We say things without thinking them through.
It’s easier to just say the first thing. It’s easier to say, “There ought to be a law to keep these companies from making so much money.” It’s easier to say, “Well, the kid must have been doing something or the school wouldn’t have needed to spy on him.”
But it’s important to think about the issues and form an argument. Not an argument as in arguing, but an argument as in, a complete thought, a complete answer to the question. Something that stands up. Something you can defend. And something you can amend if it turns out you’re wrong.
I’ve been ill for a few weeks, and have been pleasantly surprised by my ability to just rest and allow myself to recover. I’ve been basically in bed trying to get well for about a month. I’ve been suffering from severe migraines and problems related to that, including exhaustion and allowing myself to get really run-down and unwell.
We’re starting to get the general migraine problem under control, although other related problems are popping up. I’m getting some strength back, but still feeling basically rotten and unable to function most of the time.
This has been a very humbling time for me. For the first three weeks, I was unable to do much at all. I could read, for short periods, but had trouble remembering what I read, and couldn’t read non-fiction or anything that required complex thought or analysis. I couldn’t think about things or discuss or “process” thoughts the way I’m accustomed to.
Now I can think more, and my system has enough energy to spare some for my brain to play with, but I’m still not myself. I’m not back to normal, and I’m having to take things very easy. Something as simple as a trip to the store can turn into a grueling journey if I’m more tired than I thought.
The thing is, I’m really learning a lot from this. Learning how to say, “No, I’m not up to that.” Learning to lie down and rest. Learning to find ways to get the rest and the nourishment I need, even when I’m tired of resting and too tired to eat. And learning to be content to just sit quietly when I’m not interested in reading or watching a movie or even listening to music or an audiobook.
I’m learning, maybe for the first time in my life, how to do nothing.
For those who know me, you’ll understand what an incredible feat this is.
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