Monday, April 6, 2015

Further Thoughts on my Detachment

Another benefit of this detachment that I have been on for a few month is that I see things in a broader context and have slowly begun to lose the panic that often drove me in the past. I can now not only count my blessings but also see that I have more things going for me, and have more allies than those who line up against me. This is important because we often fear, lose courage and melt away during times of conflict because we do not see what is arrayed on our side, and how much experience we have against the usual enemies and how often we've succeeded against comparable foes. Contemplation and detachment can make us more willing to accept that some things won't change the way we want them to, and the pain and struggle that we go through is a necessary partner in our journey through this life. It doesn't necessarily make it easier when we go through difficult times but it does provide us hope and the expectation that things will go better.
We can take those student evaluations, reviews of our work, professional gossip, readers' indifference, and ideological criticism for what they are: the package deal that comes with being alive and being engaged in things that we like.
While rarely overreacting I have always been sensitive to harsh criticism. My sensitivity does not drive me to lash back but often that hesitancy is more of fear of continuing the conversation than because I'm turning the other cheek. I don't think that I will ever completely lose that sensitivity but I think that more and more--and this time has helped tremendously--I am learning to shift my emotional, spiritual and mental weight in ways that I can better handle the blows that come with life. I am learning to "bob and weave" like a good boxer, but more importantly I'm relearning that humility is the best attitude.
When I was in the military and I was sick and barely able to keep up with the challenges of training, I opened my small scriptures and took time to read them every break I got and to pray and then to let things come. While a protective shield this approach to the training challenges was also an acceptance that "things happened" and I had to simply roll with the punches. I did the same thing at Valley Forge Army Hospital and in the Can Tho, Viet Nam dispensary's emergency room. But while that worked for me I did it more often as a defensive mechanism rather than  as a way of life and this has meant that I've had to "relearn", "repolish" and recycle strategies out of fear or necessity and not because they flow as smoothly from my core. I have always tried to be a good person and to prepare for the challenges of life and my current situation indicates that I've done pretty good, but as I reflect on this life I realize that my responses to life have not always flowed smoothly from me. That is to be expected, it is human, but it is also a burdensome process to polish off and get those strategies in place every time there is a need. The people I most admire, famous and unknown, powerful or meek, all seem to fight their battles from their core. They don't have to outwit, out work or overpower others. In fact, they don't even have to "win" to be satisfied with their response to the challenges they face. They act with all the power, brilliance and maturity of their core principles and that often leads them to succeed against the challenges they face. This doesn't mean that they don't prepare hard or outwork others but only that they are whom they seem to be in battle, because it is what they are when they are being peacemakers or when they deal with families and friends. What we see is what they are, and much more.
I've started to dig deeper within me, to discard some habits that have never served me well, and most of all I've called a truce with myself. This doesn't mean that there aren't things that I have to change or that I struggle with but only that I am not the enemy. I am my best ally and with myself the journey of self-discovery which I'm on provides me joy even in difficult times, when I sweat, hurt or find myself seemingly "running in place".
As a writer and scholar it has been good to look at things I've done from a distance. I see the whole in a better way and have found the crevices in my work and the road that is still possible to take as I enter my mature years. I also find that I don't have to be burdened, as I was in the past, over the things that need to be done but aren't likely to get done in the near future. Because I was committed to my scholarship, my field and the people who are my community, I use to fret over the incomplete picture, and make mental notes to undertake multiple "projects" so that Mexican American/Latino history not remain incomplete. I knew I could never fill all the holes but I remained burdened by them. Call it arrogance or naiveté but it was real and while it led to many great projects and some books, it remained a thorn on my side. I don't see things that way anymore. I see myself as only one of many--some so much better than I--and it provides me a perspective on time, meaning there is a time for many things and for everyone who really matters to me. I still worry that there are not enough of "me" doing what needs to be done, but it is not a reason to be lamentful all the time. The beauty of life and scholarship is that we can be part of something important. The beauty of perspective is that we don't have to do it all or spend too much time lamenting what is not done. In some ways, this detachment has taught me that if I really am worried about something then I should do something about it. If it is not feasible, then I need to move on. And that frees me to do more of the things I actually can do well.

No comments:

Post a Comment