Category: Where you are nobody

Monday, 29 September 1997

To feel good about yourself is to be motivated. To be motivated is to be active. To be active stimulates ambition. And if ambition is stimulated, things get done.

Money is not the only measure of success. There’s personal development, the way you look at the world around you, the way you look at yourself and your relationship with the world, and then to consider what you are capable of and how you can realise this potential. In terms of this, my time in Korea has been a great success.

Thursday, 18 December 1997

Criteria for a plan: mobility, environment, debt, but most of all – self-confidence. Self-confidence is everything. Without self-confidence I go numb, my legs go wobbly … I become sluggish and listless.

I need to keep going. I need an idea to believe in. I have to always work on something to keep my confidence afloat.

If I have confidence in myself, I am alive. Then I do things; I’m able to move forward. As soon as my faith in something withers, I tumble down like a bird shot through the wing.

Another a big problem is that money and self-confidence go hand in hand with me. To have money is to be able to exercise choices. And to want to do something plus to be able to do it equal self-confidence. To want to do something plus to not be able to do it because you don’t have money equal self-confidence nose-diving into the ground. It’s a simple equation.

______________________

Monday, 24 November 1997

I am an idealist, but I live in a world full of corruption, injustice and inequality, with unideal relations between people, between people and nature, and even between people and their own selves. In this world, I strive for perfect happiness, perfect love, a perfect life, even the perfect career for myself. This quest for perfection in a world so far from perfect inevitably leads to internal conflict – disillusion versus stubborn belief in the good and the possibility of something better.

Is perfect happiness attainable? Is it possible to achieve a perfect form of love? Is it possible to always, at all times, make the kind of impression on people you can subsequently describe as accurate according to the view you have of yourself? Is perfect faith an achievable goal that we should pursue? Are perfect relationships possible? Is it possible to always live up to your full potential?

I – the person asking these questions – am an idealist. My approach to life reflects a trend that would suggest “Yes” ought to be my response to these questions. What else should I do – give up on what I strive for, and just assume that perfection is an unattainable myth? Should I be happy with whatever is offered, or whatever I have at that particular moment?

The problem, whether I accept it or continue swimming upstream in denial, is that the world is overflowing with imperfection. This forces me to face an unpleasant fact: The position of an idealist in an unideal world leads, in many cases, to confusion, loneliness, isolation and depression. That such a person would display a certain lack of success in dealing with this unideal world, that he would display an inability to engage in a creative, productive, mutually beneficial relationship with the world around him, should come as no surprise.

One option for the idealist is to withdraw – to retreat to a “smaller”, more easily manipulated world where he would be more at ease; where his sensitive nature won’t be so easily afflicted by the occasional crudeness of life and the seemingly daily occurrence of injustice; where the dirty, contaminated hands of an unideal world won’t be able to reach him; where he would feel safe.

Some idealists take on the persona of the Loner – the solitary man or woman, but I reckon this is to a large extent only part of a cosmetic solution. The original problem remains: inner conflict brought on by the contrast between their expectations of how things ought to be, and how things actually are.

* * *

How does one deal with such a disturbingly imperfect world? Do you accept and submit? Do you flee into the waiting arms and warm bosom of fundamentalist religion where all answers are dictated to you, and if pre-packaged answers aren’t sufficient you are simply told, “God has a plan for everything” or “God is in control”? Do you become a fugitive perpetrator of violence as a conscious or spontaneous response to imperfection and to mock the humble efforts of ordinary people who try to cope in the only way they know how? Or do you pull into the driveway and collapse on the couch minutes later for an evening in front of the TV? Do you become Gandhi or Stalin? Jesus Christ or Julius Caesar? Do you quit or do you commit? Commit to what? I’m going to drive myself insane! Time for some tea and a cigarette …

———–

[For the idealist to take on the persona of the “loner” is more than just a cosmetic solution.

Being a “loner” often provides the person with a temporary refuge. It is a measure that enables the person to do what they ought to do – work out a meaningful, productive and hopefully mutually beneficial relationship with the world.]

______________________

Tuesday, 4 November 1997

Being an English teacher has its disadvantages, but considering that you can live in any of more than 25 countries, and do a job that can be quite satisfactory, you can’t but think of it as a decent career opportunity.

I’m not saying I’m looking at the long-term at the moment, but as regards career opportunities open to me – taking into account my qualifications and experience, I’d have to say I’m seriously considering it. It will enable me to earn money, travel, and learn new skills, and it will keep me out of a place called middle-class suburbia.

* * *

I have eight months left on my contract before I go back to South Africa. Instead of thinking of another eight, long months … I’m starting to think about the fact that for another eight months I’ll still have a job, I’ll still be earning money, and I’ll have a place to stay. When I’m back in South Africa, at least for the first few weeks I’ll be unemployed, I won’t make any money, and I won’t have a place of my own.

It’s like a chasm eight months into the future. I can close my ears, close my eyes, and just start running – and hope time passes quickly, just to eventually realise that I don’t know how to cross the chasm; that I’m staring straight down a steep cliff.

The alternative is to start gathering material to build a bridge when I reach the gap – so it won’t be an anti-climax. It’s also important that I have to be ready for the “other side”. Preparation includes things like savings, language proficiency, early planning for academic courses, and so on.

The fact is that these eight months are going to pass, and it is up to nobody but myself what things will look like when I look back. Will I see wasted chances, and look ahead and realise I’m in trouble? Or will I be waiting at the airport in Singapore before flying to South Africa, feeling good about myself, thinking about everything I will have done over the previous eight months, and confidently expecting to cross the chasm?

It all depends on myself – right now. I have, hopefully, another eight months to prepare.

* * *

To achieve my goals, I need to change my lifestyle. Now, some time ago, I had this idea of a transformation, to do things in a radically different way. Since then, I’ve become aware of the risk of such idealistic ideas – the bubble can burst, or you can simply get bored with it (because it’s not really you), and then you’re back at the start.

I should instead look at areas where I can use my current lifestyle, current methods of doing things, and current preferences to get more done. For example, it’s better for me to work longer into the night than to get up early in the morning.

Simply put, I need to spend more hours each day working on my goals. I’ll have to discipline myself to not just sit around, and to keep myself busy as productively as possible.

Ultimately, it’s all part of a chain reaction – if you do something productive in the morning, the table is set and the ice is broken to be productive for the rest of the day. (Of course, it also works the other way around.) The more you do, the better you feel about yourself, and the better you feel about yourself, the more you do (and vice versa).

Fact is, it is in my own hands today whether I will leave here in eight months’ time as someone confused and uncertain about his future, or as someone with a plan.

______________________

[A few months earlier I had still considered identifying myself to the community of expats as one of them, with the benefits one would expect with inclusion in any group. However, by the beginning of autumn 1997, I began to ask: “Who are these people? Why should I identify myself to them?”]

———–

Thursday, 2 October 1997

The past few months I’ve been going through a significant phase of personal development. After a period of social interaction, I began to isolate myself again from mainstream currents.

Why? I don’t trust people’s judgment; I have no respect for their social agenda; their limited pool of standards and labels according to which they categorise and weigh you is laughable. Talk about sexual conquests and wild experiences doesn’t impress me. I’m tired of pretending to be one of them and to be exposed to their inability to judge people in a proper way.

I see no sense in either being accepted on their terms or to be merely tolerated. And to be rejected because I don’t fit into their social program and because I don’t make their limited world a little more interesting really makes no difference to my life.

______________________

Thursday, 10 July 1997

01:40: On the way to Seoul.

08:44: The last eight hours went as follows: I was on a train from Chonju to Seoul for four hours – I waited outside Seoul train station for an hour – I ran around like a crazy person with all my luggage for more than an hour in the subway tunnels – I scurried for two hours at Kimpo International Airport – and now I’m sitting in seat 33A, on a plane that will complete the first part of the journey that will take me home. This is indeed the truth.

14:31: Singapore. I’m going to walk around to see what I can spend my money on.

Friday, 11 July 1997

01:14: On the way to South Africa, and totally [exhausted]. I didn’t think it was humanly possible to stay awake for so long. Did you know the brain weighs more than the heart?

04:15 (SA time): For 54 weeks, I lived for this – for this day. Nine months eventually became weeks … weeks became “next week” … “next week” became “this week” … “this week” … “tomorrow” … “tomorrow” … “today”.

“Today” has now been reduced to in about one hour we land in Johannesburg. The fantasy of 54 weeks is quickly becoming reality …

---

______________________