Love, Purpose, Openness & the Lessons I’m Learning.

Posted on 10/15/2011 by Jane Devin

I loved you on purpose. I was open on purpose. – Ntozake Shange

Sometimes it feels like I have pocketfuls and pocketfuls of love, but nowhere to spend more than a penny or nickel of it at a time. As a currency, my love has always fallen short. I am a pauper. . .holding out an abundance of spare change—an embarrassment of coins—in a world of clean, crisp checks torn from a book I’ve never owned. – Excerpt from Elephant Girl

Could it have finally happened?

Have I have learned to love myself on purpose? To be open with myself and others on purpose, without fearing failure? To spend my pocketfuls of love wisely instead of tossing all my coins into a murky wishing well?

A few months ago, I surprised myself with the realization that, even though my life is as unsettled and uncertain as its ever been, I haven’t felt unhappy for quite a long time — not in a way that diminishes my sense of self or that shakes the foundational core of who I am — not in any significant way.

This revelation was surprising to me because the past two years have been filled with new challenges and life experiences, including a few that were painful, and that caused me to question my most deeply held beliefs about love, loyalty and relationships. There was a time that I nurtured, breathed, imagined and exalted those beliefs. I held onto them as if they were sacred ideals that would somehow, one day, tangibly fill a vacancy.

I cherished those beliefs and still do in some ways, but the difference between now and then is that beliefs aren’t all I have. The wide gap that once existed between my reality and my beliefs has narrowed considerably. I’m living the life I want to live, even if it’s sometimes difficult. Like children that have grown up and left home, wishes aren’t my sole focus anymore — I carry them in my heart, but they’re no longer my biggest reason for getting up in the morning. I’m excited about possibilities now — things that stand a chance of becoming real.

I’ve grown in the last two years, in the last few months, and even in the past few weeks. It seems I’m on a path of quick turns, slow transformations and gradual realizations. I’ve made some life-altering personal changes — too many to recount here (and reason enough to write another book) — and the ones that have come the hardest have also been the most gratifying. Here are three of them:

I’ve Let Go of My Expectations of Other People.

For years, I wasn’t secure about anything in my life. I never knew what tomorrow would bring and had great, big fears that my carefully patched together world would unravel at any minute. I think this is the reason I held tight to my expectations of other people. I felt like I needed some sort of anchor — something I could count on — and if it couldn’t be a stable home, a paycheck, or even my own life, then it had to be other people. I expected friends, family and even acquaintances to share my beliefs about loyalty, love, truth, respect and consideration. If they did, then I felt valued as a person. If they didn’t, then I felt defeated in a very personal way — as if I’d been betrayed or totally disregarded.

There’s no question that people can act poorly and be hurtful, sometimes in surprising ways. In the last year alone, I’ve been lied to and about, been the target of someone else’s need for internet drama and had someone I deeply care about show me how very little they cared about me. At one time, these hurts would have consumed me. My fragile sense of security with other people would have felt broken. And all that was truly good in my life — all those people that had shown love and support — along with all of my bright moments and achievements — would have faded into some distant background.

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment of change because the process was gradual, but my expectations of other people no longer exist on a grand, all-or-nothing, thought-consuming scale. If someone acts in a poor, dishonest, or unloving way, I no longer consider it a reflection of my own worth. If someone lies to or about me, I don’t wonder what it is that I have done to make them uncomfortable with telling the truth. If someone is disloyal, I don’t internalize it to mean that I failed to do something to engender their support. In other words, I stopped thinking that the choices other people make are really about me. They’re not — even when they think they are, they’re not. Character is character, caring is caring, and love is love. How other people choose to act, think and express themselves has everything to do with their own spirits, and not a thing to do with mine. It’s a lesson that took me 49 years to learn, but I’m finally free from the self-made burden of having my sense of personal value or security hinge on people’s actions or approval.

I’m Speaking My Heart & Then Consciously Moving On.

I used to debate interpersonal issues and argue for my beliefs — a lot. I’ve always been a very passionate person, especially where it concerns fairness, relationships, love, social structures, empathy, thought processes, politics — well, everything really. And it all felt so very important to me that I not only wanted to share my beliefs, but also to convince others that hey, I’ve given this considerable thought. . .and this is why you should agree with me.

The passion that has served me well in writing has worked against my personal relationships. While I’m very fortunate to have close friends who love me despite my occasional philosophical outbursts (or rants if you prefer), when it comes to the rest of the world I’ve realized that trying to change someone else’s already made-up mind serves no higher purpose: it’s simply an exercise in frustration and futility.

I’ve learned to speak my heart, share my feelings, and then consciously move on. It feels good now to say whatever is on my mind — to release my thoughts and emotions — and then choose not to dwell on the matter. After all, I know my passions inside and out. I know why I feel the things I do. I know how I’ve reached whatever thoughts I have. As I’ve become more self-aware and confident, it’s become less important to debate with others. I am who I am because of my own life, spirit and experiences and others are who they are because of theirs. Live and let live. It seems we all learn what we need to learn, when we want to learn it, and not before.

I’m Setting Boundaries & Realizing That Being an Open Book Doesn’t Mean Being Open to Everybody.

I’ve made some really bad decisions in my life, but I don’t think that being open about my life is one of them. As a blogger and writer, I’ve put the worst of myself out there as well as the best. I keep the book of my life open for the most part, because I believe that keeping secrets adds to a sense of shame. So I’m gay and out of the closet. I’m fallible and talk about my many mistakes. I’m a woman who’s had a lot of experiences and when I feel compelled to write about them, I do.

There’s a difference though between putting the stories of my life out there for public consumption and letting myself be daunted by the criticisms and beliefs of other people. For the most part, writing has been an affirmative experience for me. I have the privilege (often sacred) of hearing personal stories from other people, particularly women, who resonated with my work in some way. I am humbled nearly every day by my interactions with readers, some of whom have become good friends.

It wasn’t always this way. As in other areas of my life, whenever something “bad” thing happened with my writing, it overwhelmed the good. I used to pretty much cower when I was hit with harsh judgments or hurtful perceptions about my writing. My tendency was to absorb criticism rather than to consider its meaning and source. If someone told me I was a lousy writer or human being, part of me believed them.

In the past couple of years, though, I’ve come to realize that the most wounding critics are those who don’t really read my stories (or other writer’s stories) at all. Maybe I was naïve, but I never knew that there were people who read articles on domestic violence just so they can tell women that they brought it on themselves with their poor choices. Or who seek out posts on poverty so they can rail against the laziness of the poor. Or who troll the internet for stories about obesity just so they can tell overweight people how gross and undisciplined they are. Instead of reading for understanding or knowledge, the wounding critics search in-between an author’s lines to find something to bolster their own preconceived beliefs and sense of superiority. If someone’s in pain they must have a victim mentality; if someone is sad or grieving, it’s because they don’t have the right attitude; if someone is sick it’s because they didn’t take care of themselves. All of which provides the wounding critics with a narcissistic ego boost that’s meant to convince themselves that they’ve done a better job at life than other people.

I realized I turned a corner in the way I view criticism when a reader of Elephant Girl wrote me to tell me that I’d gotten it all wrong. She was raped by a family friend when she was 15 and didn’t turn promiscuous like I did. She also found all sorts of support for healing when she screwed up her courage and told her dad about the rape. “Your book sends the wrong message to other survivors,” she reprimanded. At first, I didn’t know how to respond. The account of my rapes is factual — they occurred decades ago and I was a child — and the past is already done. Even if I could rewrite my history, I wouldn’t do it just to make other people feel better, or to make them like me more as a person or an author. Elephant Girl is my story and I own everything in it, even the ugly and uncomfortable parts. Other people’s stories, thoughts and experiences are their own.

I finally wrote the woman back. “Tell your story,” I encouraged her. “There’s room in the world for all experiences, including yours and including mine.” And with that, I was done. I didn’t dwell. I didn’t absorb her words, take them to heart, or feel like I had to apologize for her disappointment.

I’ve learned that being an open book doesn’t mean I have to be open to every judgment, perception, or criticism. It took me all these years to finally “get it” but this basic lesson has taken root. Take whatever is valuable, meaningful, and well-intended and leave the rest behind.

Much of my life has felt like a game of roulette. I’d bet on as many people and situations as I could afford and wait to get lucky. I’d give my heart, love, efforts and even possessions to anybody who expressed an interest in them and hoped that I’d win loyalty, love and care in return. I’d throw all of my chips into a game of chance and pray that at least one would hit the right number.

I’ve learned that the best odds of being happy don’t come by way of accident or luck, but by having a clear and strong sense of purpose. It’s late in the game, but I’m beginning to see the value of my own life and spirit, instead of relying on the words and actions of others to tell me what I’m worth. By loving myself on purpose, with a fully conscious mind, I can love others on purpose, with reason and intent, instead of haphazardly or by chance. I can love more fully, more openly, and with more just cause.

By choosing to be open with myself and others on purpose — instead of by accident, impulse or passion— I’m less likely to feel stung by hurt, rejection, or misunderstandings.

I’m owning my own life, bright and dark, triumphs and mistakes, scars and beauty. I refuse to be a pauper anymore.

Share this:

The Life-Changing Nature of Lies

Posted on 03/19/2011 by Jane Devin

I’m at a point in writing my memoir where I am admitting some really ugly truths. Those closest to me know what they are but I’ve never made them public. If I were to think about how other people might judge me for my past, I might never write this book at all. So I don’t think about writing in terms of possible consequences—I think instead about how even the worst truths aren’t as devastating as the best image-keeping lies.

The child in the Hawaiian print shorts is very likely my brother or sister. I tend to think brother, but there’s no way to know for sure. What I do know is that this picture was taken in June of 1959, on a Navy base—2 years and 7 months before I was born. The girl sitting on the floor is my eldest sister, Dawn. We look nothing alike. I look nothing like my other older sister, Dianne, either.

I look like the child in the flowered shorts and so does my son. Same coloring, hair, lips, eyes, and ears. Same face shape and expression when tired.

This picture was discovered and given to me after my mother died, but she wouldn’t have told the truth or given me a name even if she had lived another six decades. She was married when I was born, to a man that was so obviously not my father that it only took me about five years before I began suspecting the truth. It took 30 years beyond that to get her to admit her infidelity fully. Still, she wouldn’t tell me anything about the man who fathered me. I don’t know his name or his nationality. I don’t know one-half of myself and it’s a blank history I’ve passed on to my children. I suspect that the affair between my mother and biological father wasn’t short—that he was also married and stationed on the same ship and Navy bases that my stepfather was.

This post isn’t about unsolved mysteries, though. I’ve sadly reconciled to the fact that I have almost no chance of finding out who the child in the photograph is or who my real father is—my mother had no close friends and held onto her secrets tightly.

What I want to say—what I want to scream, really— is that this is why people should not lie. Not to their children and not to others. Lies are not contained in a neat, singular vacuum. They have far-reaching consequences, for the liar certainly, but even more so for the ones who have been told the lies.

My mother was ashamed of me and her husband resented me. I felt it, I knew it down to my bones, but I didn’t know why. I turned myself inside out trying to be better, trying to understand why I could never, ever be good enough. I was about seven the first time I ever thought about suicide. My child brain reasoned that since I was the source of her misery, my death would make my mother happy—and nothing makes a child feel so good as when they can please their mother. Over time, as my own pain grew, my suicidal ideation became a self-comfort. “If it gets too bad, I can end it.” I comfort myself during hard times with the same thought today.

Most people, even the very young, I think, can feel the truth of a matter even if they don’t know the finer details. If a person feels lied to, even if someone close to them is insisting that they’re telling the truth, then there’s probably some divide between the information that was wanted and what was offered. My mother, for instance, used to point to my birth certificate as “proof” that her husband was legally my father. Legally is not actually—it didn’t square with the truth I wanted—but to her it was close enough. As an older child, she tormented me with teasing games of misinformation when I pressed the issue, telling me my father was Rod McKuen, Warren Beatty, or some stranger she met in a bar. Later, she’d recant and go back to the birth certificate. I can laugh at some of the stories now, but it’s not a happy laugh. There will always be some part of me that craves the truth even if it’s almost impossible to find.

A woman I recently met felt that something in her twenty-plus year marriage had changed and that her husband had grown more distant. At first he denied her feelings and then he blamed work, tiredness, and even her—if she didn’t nag him about it so much, maybe he’d be happier and more interested. For two years, she wavered in a space of swallowing her own feelings for his comfort, hoping he’d recover, and rising up to ask for the truth, or counseling, or some clue that she could work with. In the end she found out that he’d been having an affair. It was a brutal revelation, more so because it came late and it didn’t come from him. When faced with the truth he admitted to it but now, a year or so after the fact, what lingers for her isn’t the infidelity, but the two painful years she spent living with a lie, desperate to reconcile what she felt with what she was being told.

Two years, thirty-five years, or a lifetime…lies cause far more pain than honesty ever could. Had I been told the truth as a child, I might have better understood the why of being treated differently than my siblings. I might not have internalized the shame and resentment. Today, being told the absolute truth, under all circumstances, even if it has to be dug out of rock hard ground, might not be so very important to me. Had the wife been told from the start that her husband was having an affair, she might not feel so bitter about the two years she spent feeling desperate, abandoned, and confused.

People lie for many reasons, but one of the major ones is to make themselves look good. Denying the truth of my father meant that my mother didn’t have to admit to being unfaithful. Other people wouldn’t think less of her. How she looked in the eyes of others was more important to her than the pain her lie caused me or even herself. It couldn’t have been easy for her to have and raise a child she did not want. Had she been willing to be more honest though, she might have given me up for adoption and saved us both from decades of turmoil. She might have looked bad to family and acquaintances for a while but the shame she felt would not have been as long lasting and the consequences not as heavy.

I’ve no doubt that the woman’s husband lied to look good, or at least better, too. He didn’t want to admit to an affair because that would mean that he was responsible for doing something unethical. It was easier for him to put the burden of their failing relationship on his wife because he could still look like the good guy. He wrote the story of an overworked, tired man with a nagging wife and wanted her to follow along until maybe, at some point in the future, when it was more convenient for him, he was ready to leave home and start a new life with someone else.

There are common lies of omission and less commonly, differing definitions. My ex-lover would insist that she loved me but her actions toward me didn’t match her words. In the end I didn’t feel loved, so the chances are that I was not—at least not in any way that would have matched my definition. Love invites in, it doesn’t shut out. Love is special and rare and not easily replaceable. Love is willing to fight for itself. Everyone has their own definitions of what love is and isn’t. Had I known that her definition was so far off from my own—had she told me that her feelings about love were, in fact, quite opposite, I might not have invested so much of myself into loving her, and the end of our relationship would not have been as fraught with confusion and anguish. I would have been quicker to forgive her for not being able to return the same kind of love I gave to her, and I would not still be working on healing months after our final goodbye.

Lies are not solitary, isolated events. They change people—mentally and spiritually—which means they also affect that person’s present and future—and never, it seems, for the better. Lies add pain to situations that are all ready painful. The truth is not always kind but at least what people might feel as the result of an unhappy truth is real. It’s not clouded with confusion, suspicion, and lack of knowledge.

A harsh truth might cut deeply, but only the first time it’s told. Lies, on the other hand, are like a continuous poison that can seep into years, even decades. It’s easier to heal from a swift truth than a slow, drawn-out lie.

For that reason I’m all for telling people, including my own children, the truth even if it doesn’t make me look good. I know I’ll recover faster and so will others.

Share this:

The Science of Being Human, Pt. 2: But Who Are We, Really?

Posted on 03/28/2009 by Jane Devin

“The study investigates the relation between people’s personality and the content and style of their writing…” – email from Washington University in St. Louis.

We Judge, and Hopefully Well

Eminem wasn’t the first person to shrug his shoulders in exasperation and say “I am whoever you say I am”. Humans have a long history of expressing frustration with other people’s perceptions of their character and personality. We warn each other not to judge — a book by its cover, lest you be judged, hastily — or even slightly because, after all, “who are you to judge?”

Yet it’s imperative that people judge each other, and that we do it proficiently and well if we wish to avoid the type of trouble that comes from failing to accurately assess another person’s character or intentions. The question isn’t why we judge, so much as how. What criteria, besides the obvious ones of intuition and appearance, do we use when forming opinions about another person’s personality and character?

In day-to-day life, we have the opportunity to study one another’s general way of existing in the world. We watch actions and reactions, and ask each other questions in a give-and-take sort of way. Our impressions are usually not based on answers alone, but also on tone and expression.

Popular personality tests like the Big Five O.C.E.A.N test (an acronym for openness, conscientiousness, extroversion, agreeableness, and neuroticism), remove the eyes, ears, and experience from human study, and claim to offer an objective and accurate analysis of personality based on the types of scaled questions discussed in part one.

I wanted to test the accuracy of the Big Five test, not just against my own self-assessment, but against the impressions of my real life friends. I was also curious what judgments total strangers might form about me based on nothing more than my answers to a series of random questions. I wondered how much variation would exist between real-life impressions, the judgments of strangers, and test results. What I found was surprising.

But First, Let Me Tell You Why I Have A Problem With This…

Personality tests like the Big Five were originally devised as a therapeutic resource for psychologists. I have no issue with tests like this being used by psychologists and their clients as part of therapy, where there is face-to-face interaction and the give-and-take of discussion. However, personality tests have worked their way into the mainstream, most harmfully in the field of employment, where some companies weed out applicants based on nothing more than a short Q&A test — which can be highly misleading, if not in many cases wildly inaccurate.

Does a person who enjoys her solitude make a lousy customer service representative? Not necessarily. She may simply cherish being alone at night after a long day of work and mothering. Will a person who loves museums and art be open to a company’s continuous changes? Maybe not. Perhaps their appreciation for art is based on its traditions rather than its fluidity. Will a person who keeps their desk clean be the most conscientious employee? Or simply the office neat freak, who is more interested in color-coordinated paper clips than in the company’s bottom line?

Of course, many people who take these tests in the course of employment are familiar with what answers are expected, and fill in the blanks accordingly. Those who want a job aren’t likely to tell a prospective employer that they’re messy, uncomfortable around people, and easily stressed out. Yet, human resources offices around the country continue to rely on personality tests in order to help inform their hiring decisions.

A well-known coffee shop is one such employer. Their online application process includes a personality test. If you fail the test, your application will not be processed and your name won’t make it to the list of potential hires. I tested their system by filling out two applications with the information of real people. I answered one personality test truthfully, and one as I imagined a “perfect employee” might answer. The fictional “perfect employee” made the list. I did not.

Real Life Judgments vs. Test Scores

I believe that Washington University’s study would be more accurate if they simply asked writers to rate themselves on the Big Five scale of Openness, Conscientiousness, Extroversion, Agreeableness, and Neuroticism. The saying “no one knows you better than you know yourself” tends to apply when the people in question are generally rational and lucid. I know, for instance, that while I don’t mind talking to a lot of people at a party, I likely wouldn’t accept the invitation in the first place. I also know that while I procrastinate over chores, I’m one of the first people my friends call in an emergency.

The Big Five test I took for the University pegged me as being more neurotic than 63.3% of others, more open to experience than 82.3%, and more extroverted than 63.6% of others. According to the test, 82.7% of other people are more conscientious than I am, and 74.3% are more agreeable.

In other words, according to the Big Five, I’m a highly-strung, open-minded, gregarious person who can’t be counted on. I can’t think of an employer who would want that particular combination in an employee, can you?

Being familiar with my own strong points and shortcomings, I thought it would be interesting to see how others, strangers and friends alike, would rate me on the O.C.E.A.N scale. The friends part was easy — I simply asked three people who know me well to look at the definitions of the Big Five traits and assign me a score from 1-10, with 10 being the highest. Averaged, my friends rated me:

8.0 – for Openness
6.0 – for Conscientiousness
5.3 – for Extroversion
4.7 – for Agreeableness
5.6 – for Neuroticism

My friends tended to agree with the Big Five’s assessment of me as open but not highly agreeable — but they disagreed that I was more extroverted, far more neurotic, or far less conscientious than average.

Having strangers assess my personality was a bit more difficult. I questioned whether I should use the 60 questions from the Big Five test, but then decided no — I wanted to use the type of questions that real people ask in the day-to-day when they’re more interested in getting to know something about another person.

A psychologist would argue that the questions aren’t specific to the Big Five categories, therefore it would be difficult, if not impossible, for lay people to accurately assess O.C.E.A.N. traits from homegrown Q&A’s. My argument is that in real life people form impressions and make judgments not through pinpointed analysis, but through a much more diffuse and intuitive set of criteria. A question like, “Mayonnaise or Miracle Whip” may not work for the cause of clinical psychology, but in human interactions, answers like “mayonnaise, preferably homemade or organic” tell us something about a person. Some may think the answer indicates a person who is health-conscious; others may think the person is a snob; still others may think this is a person who puts way too much effort into making a sandwich.

It is as often the minutia of another person’s existence that informs real life judgments. The person to whom health is important may assign extra points in conscientiousness to the person who makes their own mayonnaise — while the person who thinks it’s a waste of time to make what can easily be bought may view the mayonnaise maker as more neurotic than most.

The larger question is — on average – are the resulting judgments made by strangers based on nothing more than a random series of Q&A’s, markedly different than the results of psychology’s Big Five test? How far off are the results of strangers vs. friends, or a self-assessed score?

Interestingly enough, only one person who was familiar with what I was doing doubted whether they could judge the Big Five traits based on random Q&A’s — and she’s a friend who majored in psychology. None of the five strangers who participated expressed any hesitation or difficulty in assigning O.C.E.A.N. scores based on my answers to 40 Questions Asked by Readers.

Here are the averaged scores assigned to me by strangers, who are not readers of this blog, were not informed that the answers were written by me, and who did not know the reason for this experiment. Their assignment of points is based on their own perceptions of my answers and a provided description of each of the five traits:

7.8 – for Openness
7.4 – for Conscientiousness
6.6 – for Extroversion
5.8 – for Agreeableness
6.0 – for Neuroticism

Looking back on how my friends rated me, I was surprised to find that perfect strangers — based on nothing more than a series of random Q&A’s — rated me similarly in every category. There was a difference of .2 in Openness, 1.4 in Conscientious, 1.3 in Extroversion, 1.1 in Agreeableness, and .4 in Neuroticism.

The University’s Big Five test would seem to agree with friends and strangers alike that I am more Open and Extroverted than average. Friends and strangers, though, both rated me significantly higher than the Big Five would seem to in the categories of Conscientiousness and Agreeableness, and roughly about the same in the category of Neuroticism.

My self-assessed scores (7.5 for Openness, 6.0 for Conscientiousness, 5.5 for Extroversion, 5.0 for Agreeableness and 6.5 for Neuroticism) were highly similar to the scores given to me by friends — so similar that there is not a full one point difference in any category. However, the assessments by strangers also come very close, with the only significant differences being that they gave me 1.4 more points than myself in Conscientiousness and and 1.1 more points in Extroversion.

My Judgment

While personality tests may have their place in psychology, I don’t believe they are accurate enough to use as a tool in studies like the one being conducted by Washington University, nor should they be used in guiding employment decisions.

When a group of perfect strangers can more accurately glean information about another person’s personality through a blind reading of random Q&A’s than a standardized psychological test can, it’s time to reevaluate not just the accuracy of such tests, but how they are being utilized, and to question the conclusions drawn from their use.

While inaccurate theories sprung from the Big Five test on subjects like the personalities of writers may be fairly innocuous, personality testing in other realms, such as employment, are not.

Had I taken Washington University’s test in the course of a job application rather than for a study, I likely would not have been hired by any company looking for conscientious, agreeable, non-moody personalities. Also, as previously discussed, according to recent theories, (Pt. 1) many geniuses — who are said to be largely introverted and somewhat hostile — would also find themselves unemployed.

While the coffee shop may not want or need a high I.Q. barista, few highly intelligent people start out at the top. Many work dead-end jobs to pay for college or to support themselves while working on other projects. There are also millions of people who fall in the spectrum between capable and genius. The artist who works in a factory. The banker who’s messy at home but proficient at work. The 21 dealer who spends his weekends meditating.

The ability to perform at a job well often depends much less on a person’s personality than on their basic abilities and desire to earn a living. I can give a pretty good speech, although it’s one of my least favorite things to do. I can — and have — cleaned up after horses, driven a frozen foods truck, soldered diodes to a circuit board, managed an office, bought media, created advertising campaigns, managed million dollar budgets, ghostwritten a book, and delivered mail. I’ve done all of these jobs proficiently, either utilizing parts of my nature and personality, or working around them.

Of course, it doesn’t take a genius to fake a personality test, but the point is that they are misused, likely to be inaccurate, and sorely out of place in human resource offices. They are simply too full of interpretive holes, too black and white, and too narrow in their definitions of what constitutes positive and negative personality traits.

Footnote: I would like to thank Kayce, Catherine, Kimberly, Allison, and Haley for taking me up on my offer to grade a stranger. They did not know who or why, and I appreciate their interest and participation.

Share this:

The Science of Being Human, Pt. 1: 40 Questions

Posted on 03/25/2009 by Jane Devin

After writing, The Invisible Jesus in Psychology, I had an idea I wanted to test. To help me do that, I invited readers to ask me any question they’d like. Nothing was off-limits. Here are the questions they asked, and my answers.

1. Do you have regrets? What is one? Do you believe that regrets have a valuable place in our life, or do they distract us from moving forward? – Danielle

I do. One of them is marrying at 19. There were years-long consequences to that, even though the marriage did not last long. Yes, I believe regrets are valuable. I think if we never regretted anything, we’d not only lack a conscience, but be more likely to repeat mistakes. I don’t see how having regrets would prevent anyone from moving forward, unless they stemmed from something long-term, such as having children or getting into a certain career, but even then we can only move forward.

2. Have you ever been attacked by cyber-bullies and how did you handle the situation? – Palestar

I have, and I didn’t handle it as well as I should have. I took it much too personally. In retrospect, I should have done more to ignore it and understood that as personal as people get on the internet, they have no way of really knowing you, or you them, on the internet.

3. If you could live your life over, choosing the location, your profession, etc., what would you change and why? – Debbie

I would have started with different parents, never left California, completed my degree, and remained a technical writer unless my literary career took off. In reality, a restless spirit, combined with some incredible hopes and a love for adventure, took me many places, some good, some not. Now that I’m older, I wish I’d managed to be a little fonder of stability in my 20′s and 30′s.

4. And for you: Pizza, steak, Mexican, or Chinese? – Laurie C.

Chinese food, steak, then Mexican food. Pizza way, way far down on the list.

5. If a person could read your tea leaves, and the tea leaves of others accurately without knowing you or them, how would you explain it? – Ann Parker

As a fluke or a set-up, because I don’t believe in such things and have seen too many other similar things, like astrology, seances and psychics, roundly debunked.

6. If you had no choice and could choose, which would you rather lose, your sight or your hearing and why? – Marcie

No doubt, my hearing. You can still “hear” people through their body language, expressions, and writing and you can “hear” things like wind and thunder through sensation…but it’s much harder to see people and things without vision.

7. What is your favorite aphorism? If you were given the choice to learn your date of death would you choose to know? Have you ever seen the movie School of Rock? – Elaine

“Highly developed spirits often encounter resistance from mediocre minds” – Einstein. This became a particular favorite this past election season. And yes definitely to #2, and yes oddly enough to #3 (I’ve seen about five movies in the last six or seven years).

8. If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be and why? – Tammie

Hawaii. It’s beautiful, warm, lush, surrounded by the ocean I love, and there are no slithering things.

9. I am a total foodie…so I need to know…what one comfort food do you turn to when you are blue? – Jeanne

Do I have to be blue? I’m a latte fanatic everyday. Chocolate is something I don’t eat often anymore, but I crave it when my energy is low. As far as a comfort meal, I’d have to go with chicken and dumpling soup.

10. Do you lust after the new Mac Airbook for just it’s beauty and style and wow factor and if so wouldn’t the new super slim Dell be just as cool, or are there other internal differences about the Macs you love? – Susan S.

I had a Mac a number of years ago and remember it as being intuitive, fairly problem free, and easy to remedy when there was problem, which has not been my experience with PC’s. I am frustrated by how long it takes to end a program that has quit working, and the number of times that happens even when the memory is nowhere near capacity. I’m frustrated by the updates that seem to almost always cause something else to quit working, and by Windows built-in preferences for its own substandard other services.

11. Why are you important? – Woodrow

I don’t feel I am in the context of self, or what I presently give to the world at large. When I was raising children whom I was solely responsible for, I felt important in the sense that other lives and futures depended on my own. My children see me as important to their lives even though they are grown and competent, and there may be others who find me important in their lives for other reasons, but I think if death was imminent, I’d be at peace knowing I’ve loved, nurtured, and given to my best capacity.

12. Do you have any true friendships with people who’s opinions regarding religion and politics strongly oppose yours? If you don’t, do you believe it’s possible? – Chris

Yes to religion and no to politics. I have among my friends a Lutheran, two Catholics and one Mormon, but none of them are staunchly, wholly conservative. I think my friends tend to take what’s best or most meaningful for them from their religion and apply it to their personal lives without expectation that others should do or feel the same. I have friends who are anti-abortion, for instance, but who wouldn’t want a law that denied abortion for others. They view religion as personal, not political. I don’t think I could be friends, or want to be, with neo-conservatives, because their beliefs are not just personal, but societal and often global. They want their beliefs, including their personal religious ones, to inform government, law, science and more.

13. What really pisses you off… makes you so mad you could scream…? – Theresa

Purposeful ignorance. Someone who is so intent on holding onto a certain belief, philosophy, or way of being that they absolutely refuse to process or understand any other information.

14. Why do you write? I know what rankles and activates you. What brings you: joy? peace? serenity? Describe your ideal Friday night. – Kate

I write for different reasons. Sometimes because I don’t understand something until I’ve laid out my thoughts and questioned them, sometimes because I’m excited, outraged, or heartbroken and sometimes, oftentimes, because I see or hear something I totally disagree with and I want my perspective put out there as a balance. What brings me joy-peace-serenity isn’t an absolute unless we’re talking about the well-being of my children. Where I’m at now, I take those things wherever and as often as I can find them. My ideal any-night is being “in the zone” and writing something that I think is meaningful and that others will enjoy.

15. My question: We all have defining moments in our lives. Moments that shape us, our ideas, our writing, our outlook. Name one defining moment in your life and how it shaped you. – Corina
& When did you know you were a writer? – Sharon

This is not a lovely answer, but true. It was when my mother choked me into unconsciousness when I was in the 4th grade. It was field day at school – we were given permission to wear shorts – but my mother wouldn’t hear of it, so I put the shorts on under my dress. She had been violent before, but never that deadly. I realized my own mortality then, and on some level finally understood that my mother’s violent outbursts and hatred had to do with something other than who I was or how I behaved. After that incident, I became less of an inward child and began to write in order to find my voice.

16. Who was your biggest influence and why? – LBJ

For better or worse, my mother. The one who gives us life and then nurtures — or not — is the one who sets the foundation from which all else springs. That’s not to say that we can’t build anything we want from there, but the influence from childhood is lifelong, even if it becomes our life’s work to do everything quite the opposite way.

17. What are the things that have made your heart soar to unfathomable heights never reached before? – Tash

Three things: 1) The birth of my children – more than anything in the world. 2) Making love to someone I really loved – the second most-high experience. 3) An article I wrote that seemed to touch a lot of women, but this last one was kind of a fluke because it was something that was linked to from a celebrity site, and so it was her fans that commented. It made it difficult to know if they liked the piece on its own merits, or because she did. A famous person could start using a grocery bag for a purse, and many people would think that was cool. That doesn’t really make grocery bags cooler than they were before the celebrity started wearing them.

18. All that is left of the great artist is: A painting she has done of the cat and the cat itself. You must save one. Which will it be and why? – Laura

The cat, of course, because it is a living, feeling creature.

19. When are you gonna come for dinner and let me cook for you? Red or White…whats your fav kinda wine? – Loony

If I’m ever in that part of Canada, Shoeless Acres will be my first stop, and I’d love a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.

20. What is your favourite curse word? – Peggi Jean

Fuck. Hands down.

21. Miracle whip or mayonnaise? – Caron

Mayonnaise, preferably homemade or organic.

22. Why are people [so willing to ] turn over the control of their lives so easily to an unknown force? – Jeff

The world can be frightening, unjust, and unforgiving. I think people seek to give “control” to an unknown force because it not only lessens their fears and anxieties, but also gives them some hope for all that the unknown force usually promises — which is usually centered around blessings, redemption, and peace. Of course, the ultimate control is always an individual’s, but a belief that one will ultimately be rewarded for being good, and others will be punished for being bad, helps many people get through their days.

23. If you had to pick a single word to guide you through the next year, what would it be and why? – Sandi

Change. Obama’s campaign slogan is also mine — I would like to make and see many changes in 2009, none of them easy or easily accessible, but I’m going to push as hard as I can to make this year really count.

24. What’s your ultimate dream/goal/fantasy as a writer–meaning what would your ideal writing life look like? – V-Grrrl

One bestselling book that will buy me a small house in a beautiful place, and the rest of my years spent writing whatever I wanted with no concern about ever needing or wanting to sell it to a publisher. I think JD Salinger did it right. Unfortunately, it’s the rare writer who can now be both published and a hermit.

25. What do you wish people knew or understood about you that they do not? – Julia

That despite everything I have known and seen, I have a deep core of innocence, and am still easily amazed, affected, and moved by even small, simple gestures, words, and situations.

26. How is the you of 5, 10 years hence going to be different to the you of today? – Karen

I likely wouldn’t be much different 5 or 10 years from now, unless one counts having additional experience as a substantial change.

27. Why is it you, and other female writers, such as Annie Proulx and Amy Bloom, start out life as wives and mothers and then change their sexual orientation? – Carol

I can only speak for myself, but I was bisexual as a child, I just didn’t have a name for my attraction to girls. There were no discussions, no role models, no people I knew who were gay. When I was a teen, I went out with boys because that’s what all the girls did. I married when I was still a teen, at 19, and it was very brief. Afterwards, grown up and on my own, I felt freer to explore my feelings and be honest with myself. I realized that while physically I could be attracted to either sex for the short-term, my long-term desires, physical and in every other way, were for women. I would not say I changed, but grew more self-aware and more comfortable with who I was.

28. Do you believe in God? – Suzanne / What defines you as Jewish? – Neil

I suspect, or want to believe, that there was some intelligent force behind the creation of life, but I also believe the science for evolution is well-proven — which is at odds with the Biblical version of God. I have problems with the great leaps of logic apparent in all the the religions of men, because I believe that any force capable of creating life would not be illogical. Outside of a few very minor species, it takes a female and a male to procreate, meaning if there were a God he would have had to have a mother. It is irrational to believe that God would be born alone from the vapors of the Universe, yet a taboo question in religion is “who created God”. I also believe that human beings have the brains that we do so that we can evolve and reach our highest potential — something that organized religion often seems to want to undermine in favor of blind faith, dogma, and tradition. I find comfort in liberal Judaism not as much for the traditions but for the spiritual, emotional, and practical aspects, such as community, service, self and global awareness, progressive beliefs, inclusion, and a strong belief in education.

29. Huge fan of food network so….you’re given zucchini, pineapples, dried dates, maple syrup, and polenta, what would you make having to use all these ingredients? – Steve

I would make a mess! I was curious, though, so I googled your combination, and discovered that I could make a breakfast polenta of sorts, although the zucchini would be a rather odd ingredient.

30. Why is the desk in the room of your own vision great and big and mahogany? – Tre

I have absolutely no idea! I may have seen something like that as a child and been impressed, but if so I don’t remember where or when. Mahogany has always been my favorite color/grain of wood.

31. What is the one piece of advice, over all others, you would give to someone who wants to be a writer? – Lucie

To try to look at the people, situations, and circumstances around them as writer — a recorder of physical, factual, emotional, and contextual detail. I think most writers begin by writing through a self-reflective lens, which helps them explore hidden parts of themselves, and find their own rhythm and voice. The evolution is in being able to look at something through multiple lenses while not losing your individual vision.

32. What do you think is the next step for feminism? Or is this as good as it gets in a patriarchy? – Callie

First, thank you for acknowledging that we still live in a patriarchal society. I’ve been stunned by how many people deny this is true, despite the continuing imbalance of power. We still live in a time when language like “the state’s first female governor…” is spoken with peculiar pride or surprise. I believe feminism, as a self-sustaining concept, was lost in the mire of several other causes it attached itself to in order to gain more supporters, build solidarity, and present itself as a stronger political force. Those other causes, such as ending racism and gaining LGBT rights, have not been as inclusive of, or outspoken about, womens’ rights as the cause of feminism was to theirs. The brightest and most passionate feminist voices seem to have slipped away to the ivory towers of academia, leaving an entire global generation with only a dim knowledge of domestic inequalities, and the horrors that millions of girls and women face around the world. The only thing feminism can do to revive itself, in my opinion, is step back in the fight. Not with more studies, not with more panels — but as they did it in the glory days — by gathering the tribe, screaming into megaphones, expressing their rage at podiums in college auditoriums, picketing in the streets and demanding to be heard. Without that kind of passion, I don’t think feminism will evolve or be revived.

33. With all that we have at our fingertips in the late-20th and 21st century I think we are lucky to live in the time we do, especially for women, but we do have a long way to go. If you could pick a time period (of the past, of course) to have lived, when would it be and why? – Shelley

I would have liked to have been born fifteen or twenty years earlier so that I could have been there when so many of the people I admire were at the peak of their expression. To hear Adrienne Rich or Gloria Steinem in person? Listen to the beat poets? To see Janis Joplin in concert or Joan Baez at a coffee shop? I would have loved that. I also would have loved to have lived in Berkeley or San Francisco then, and to have contributed something to that spectacular mix.

33. If you could produce a TV show, what would be the premise? Do you feel truly accepted? If you won the lottery, what would be the first thing you would buy for yourself? – Pat (was funny and asked 17 questions, I answered three)

1) I would like to see the return of a network Phil Donahue type show, or Oprah before she got the feel-good “discover your spirit” format. Serious issues that used to be given focused air time aren’t getting but a fraction of that now and when they do, they pile on the guests until the stories are diluted. 2) No. 3) A small, cozy house near the ocean.

34. How would your writing and life be different if the internet and blogging had never been invented? Would your writing be altered or take a different path? – Lisa

Given my minor publication history, and my lack of effort or interest in submitting work during the last few years, I can reasonably guess that without the internet my writing would be less public. I also think I would not have written on as many topical things subjects, such as current events and politics.

35. If you could have one super power what would it be? if you had one last thing to say to the world, what would it be? – Kris D.

The ability to be invisible because the possibilities in that are nearly endless. As for the last thing I’d say to the world, it would probably be a repeat of one of the first things I ever said, Why?

36. Favourite character on Happy Days? – T. Fraser

None! I really didn’t like anything about that show.

37. Do you fear death? – Nikki

No, only any pain that might lead up to death.

38. Do you possess enough rage to take a human life? – Doris

No, but I think if I needed to defend my life or the life of someone else, I wouldn’t hesitate.

39. What is your Meyers-Briggs type if you know it? – Melissa

The last time I took the test, which was about 1998, I was an INTP.

40. When you are feeling lost, and down, and depressed, and you don’t know what to do, and you can’t write, and it feels like everything is wrong everywhere in every dark depressing corner of your head … what do you read? What author do you pull off your shelf, knowing that it’s going to lift your soul? What can you read, over and over again, and just know that it’s going to inspire you, or at the very least make you laugh a little and realise that things aren’t that bad? – Tamara

It’s not a book I reach for, but cards and letters that people have given me over the years, including my daughter, who has written me beautiful notes since she could hold a pen. I’ve kept every card and letter that’s ever moved me, and when I need an infusion of sun or a way to revive my spirit, I open that box.

_ _ _

Part Two: What impressions might my answers give a group of strangers? How much might those impressions differ from the results of the personality test recently discussed on this site? Stay tuned! I also asked readers questions, and got some fascinating answers!

Share this:

The Invisible Jesus in Psychology

Posted on 03/18/2009 by Jane Devin

Universities in the “Show-Me” state of Missouri seem to like studying blogs and the characters of those who write them. Last year, the Missouri State University in Springfield asked me to participate in a student study on media ethics and the “Wild West” of the internet. Yesterday, Tal Yakoni and Dr. Simine Vazire of the Washington University in St. Louis sent me an email soliciting my participation in a personality test to help them study the link between a writer’s personality and the “content and style” of their writing.

I had my choice between a 10 minute, 100 question test or a longer 300 question version. I’m impatient, so I chose the option that took the least amount of effort. I’m pretty sure that psychology would give me a demerit for that, since its a subjective science that seems to use Jesus as a role model — and we all know that Jesus wasn’t a slacker.

As a school of thought psychology, like Jesus’s Christianity, seems to value a sense of altruism and sacrifice in its adherents. It advances a pseudo-religious creed of love for all mankind, unselfishness, and an unbridled spirit of empathy and compassion. It wants disciples who will strive to maintain a happy, positive attitude no matter how wretched or difficult a situation might be.

But are the ideals and expectations of psychology rational? Do the terms and labels employed by psychology work toward better understanding and social enlightenment, or are they simply a convenient way to exclude in some way those who don’t fit the mold?

One of the agree/disagree statements on the personality test was: “You have a good word for everybody”. This is a question meant to measure one’s level of “agreeableness” — the value an individual places on getting along with other people. The higher your score, the more “considerate, friendly, compassionate, generous, helpful, and willing to compromise” you are considered to be. In other words, you’re that much closer to Jesus.

The problem with the “good word” question is that it’s illogical. Jesus might say there’s no such thing as an illogical question, but how rational was a man who believed he could walk on water and rise from the dead? Jesus today would have been locked up or put on some heavy doses of anti-psychotic medication yet the school of psychology, perhaps unwittingly, relies on a role model very similar to Jesus to inform its beliefs on what constitutes the most positive and desirable individual traits.

As a rational person, I don’t have a good word to say about murderers, child abusers, rapists, suicide bombers, white collar thieves, war mongers, wife beaters, and baby slayers. Jesus might have felt a calling to dig into the dark souls of the wretched and pluck out a ray of light — but I don’t see the point. While it pays to understand the why and how of society’s predators so that we can work on prevention, I feel no particular compassion, empathy, or mercy towards the who that committed the crime. A person who can rape a child, beat a woman to death, kill dozens in a bombing — or who revels in the high life after stealing millions of dollars from others — does not, in my opinion, merit empathy, but disdain.

Another unqualified test statement was “You like to make people happy”. I know there are some people who might rejoice (such as neoconservatives and child abusers) if I never wrote another word, but I don’t really care about their happiness. I’m also sure it thrills my neighbor when I clean up his dog’s shit from the communal lawn, but I don’t do it to make him happy. I do it because I have a dog and don’t want the condo association to change its pet-friendly policies.

Jesus would probably clean up after the lazy neighbor as a good deed. Jesus liked to do good deeds even if they weren’t rewarded — but of course they usually were. In fabled stories, the wicked would see Jesus’s good example, have an epiphany, and fall to their knees in gratitude.

In real life, I resent picking up basketball-sized mounds of German Shepherd shit, and the only epiphany my negligent neighbor seems to have had, despite letters and conversations, is that someone else will eventually take care of the mess. I don’t delight in Sunday mornings hunched over piles of dog poop with rubber gloves, but I might feel quite differently if my neighbor was incapacitated or actually needed my help.

Like most people, I also enjoy making those I love, admire, or otherwise value happy. There’s gratification in giving to friends and family members, as well as to those whom I see as deserving but less fortunate. So do I like to make people happy? It depends on who they are and whether or not their happiness is important to me.

The test asked if I agreed or disagreed with the statement: “I am not interested in abstract ideas”. Again, it depends. I met a philosophy student once who insisted that a Pepsi can only existed because I thought it did. He did not believe that material reality could exist outside of one’s own beliefs. I wasn’t interested in his abstract (nonsensical) theory at all. Carl Sagan, though, has put out some abstract theories that are fascinating — and so did Jesus — which is what I believe is at the root of psychology’s odd mix of mysticism and studied rationales.

The “think positive” movement is a prime example of mixing magical thinking with academic study. “Think it and be it” and other reality-defiers are buoyed by massive studies that lead to such sterling conclusions as “happy people are happier”.

The feeling of happiness, despite the reality of circumstances, (think Job, think Jesus on the cross) has, in tides and trends, been sold like a mandate to the masses, and this mandate has diluted even our language — there are no obstacles, only challenges. We don’t have problems, but issues. We don’t have realities, but perceptions. What would Jesus do?

Jesus likely wouldn’t have invented electricity, the telephone, the automobile, or the MacBook Pro that I covet. While I disagree with much of the criteria that psychology professor Dean Keith Simonton used to define genius in his recent book, I agree with his general conclusion that geniuses tend to be “open to experience, introverted, (and) hostile. . .”. In other words, not very Jesus-like at all.

What label, besides “hostile”, does psychology put on those who are emotionally reactive and therefore more likely to experience “negative” feelings such as anger and frustration? Psychology calls them neurotic. The old testament God would have scored very high in this category but the softer, gentler Jesus would have scored low. According to psychology, the mythical God, creator of the world — the one who was emotionally reactive, moody, and easily irritated – would have a diminished ability to “think clearly, make decisions, and cope effectively with stress”. Jesus, by contrast, would be “calm and emotionally stable”.

If Simonton’s personality theory of genius is to be believed, then shouldn’t we be concerned with how much potential is being thwarted in classrooms when non-conforming smart children, who are easily bored and irritated, are taught a curriculum that’s geared towards the average and not the exceptional? What about adults with above-average intelligence who find themselves frustrated by slow thinkers, outdated methods, and irrational beliefs?

The Jesus-model of psychology would have everyone believe that they are special and unique — but no more special or unique than anyone else – which really gives “special” a whole new meaning, one that’ s not quite sameness, but more like same worth. To feel that you may have more intrinsic or social worth than someone else, (no matter how base, unethical, or irrational that someone might be), is considered by psychology to be arrogant, narcissistic, grandiose – even delusional. It’s just not very Jesus-like.

Jesus died on the cross for the sins of others, and didn’t whine enough about it to be considered a martyr or someone suffering from persecution complex, therefore it stands to (psychology’s) reason that people should be selfless enough to see the positives in their own adverse circumstances. It’s not what happens to you, it’s how you feel about it. You choose your own feelings. No one else and no other circumstance can dictate the way you feel — it’s a choice — so think positive.

Try to keep that in mind the next time someone slams your finger in a car door or empties your retirement account. What would Jesus do? He’d forgive, of course, and then find a way to make it a positive, life-affirming experience because, after all, happy people are happier. And happier people are just a whole lot more fun to be around than those who are always questioning reason and authority and letting themselves be bugged by facts or circumstances that are not in their milieu or immediate power to change.

Yet no change occurs in a vacuum, and every grassroots social cause begins with disgruntlement or unhappiness over a certain situation — whether or not it is our own, or even on shared soil. Positive changes, in other words, often stem from “negative” feelings and thoughts. While joy is certainly a preferred feeling for its euphoric qualities, this doesn’t lessen the validity or rationality of other emotions, such as frustration, anger, or sadness. That some people might feel these “negative” emotions more often than others might not indicate neuroses, but a heightened sense of awareness of the world outside their own front door.

Another flaw in personality tests is that questions are often asked in slightly different ways in order to measure truthfulness, but for many people, including myself, a change in wording is a change in meaning. “Do you feel that you have had more bad experiences than most other people” is, to me, a totally different question than “Do you feel that you are cursed”. One may be an arguable fact, while the other indicates a belief in the mystical concepts of blessings and curses.

The storied Jesus, while hanging on a cross, went through a range of emotions, at first blaming his father for forsaking him, then believing that he was being tortured so that others could be forgiven. I believe Jesus’s MMPI scores would have fluctuated dramatically given the day. In the end, though, it’s the feel-good story of Jesus — as a simple, self-sacrificing, loving, humble, calm, altruistic forgiver of all wrongs — that seems to inform psychology’s definition of social harmony and mental health. There is no doubt that many people, particularly the religious, find this not only acceptable but somehow perfect. After all, who wouldn’t want to be more like Jesus?

There’s a disparity between Jesus and mere mortals, though, that many seem to forget. Jesus could turn water into wine, heal the sick, stop a storm, and drive the evil spirits out of the wicked and possessed. Is it any wonder he was such a calm, affable guy? I know I’d be much less stressed out if I was capable of pulling off a miracle or forty-seven. I’d definitely be a lot more agreeable.

If psychiatry is to psychology what science is to art, (and I believe there’s truth in that), but both rely on the Jesus model to some degree, then both would seem to be less rational, less tolerant of difference, more bent on conformity, and ultimately much more limiting to the advancement of humanity, than they make themselves out to be.

How many employers are now using personality tests to decide who gets a job and who doesn’t? How many “introverted” people or “hostile” geniuses are being excluded from consideration due to these supposedly undesirable traits? In schools, how many extraordinarily bright but “easily frustrated” children are being labeled with ADD or personality disorders? How many potential “beautiful minds” have we lost by insisting that they are not socially harmonious or agreeable enough for our schools, our workplaces, our institutions?

How many potential Galileos and Van Goghs would the modern day world of psychology have us abandon to the mythical, invisible role model of Jesus?

Footnote: The results of the personality test I took determined that I am more neurotic than 63.3% of you, more open to experience than 82.3%, and more extraverted than 63.6% of you. However, 82.7% of you are more conscientious, and 74.3% of you are more agreeable. Which makes most of you much more Jesus-like than me. I’m also an INTP according to Meyers-Briggs, a confirmed caffeine addict, and neurotic enough to believe that most of you won’t have had the interest or patience to read this entire essay.

Share this: