Dereko-chan

My love is not boundless,
(As some men profess theirs
to be,) like the infinite sea.
It's easily charted,
Circumnavigated,
And kept under close watch of me.

My love is not deep,
Like REM sleep,
With room for whimsy and play.
It's shallow and squalid,
With dream lurkers horrid,
That'll bite you if you turn away.

My love is not clean,
Like a fresh mountain stream.
It is muddy, complex, and impure.
Yet so strong and so rich
That when it hits your lips,
Be it bitter, you will surely want more.

Once pristine and unbounded,
'Twas on lovers squandered,
Who drank without thought to quench me.
Thus my love is rare,
Scarce without compare,
And this cupful I give to thee.

Whenever things go balls-up wrong, someone trots out the above pearl of wisdom. The assertion is that we can all 'learn' something, with the implication that blame is shared. If you weren't at fault then you wouldn't have anything to learn. You have something to learn, therefore you are partly to blame. Fault and loss of face is distributed.

But this quick distribution of blame is not always accurate. Blame is not always able to be shared. It often lies fairly and squarely on a single person's lack of preparation, poor execution, or conflicting goals. Furthermore, it is unfair for everyone else to cop the guilty party's share of self punishment.

For example, send your kids on a camp with inadequate equipment. They catch a cold. The children have learned to be tougher.

You don't want to stop too often on the freeway. As a consequence, you run out of petrol. Everyone else in the car can learn not to distract the driver.

It is often a race to declare tragedies of error to be 'learning experiences' because from that point on any learning that impugns the declarer's competence appears paradoxical. "You learned a lesson," "Yes, I learned you were wrong." Just doesn't work. The person who first calls the bollocking a 'learning experience' thus protects themselves from censure.

To resolve this, recognise the motive for calling something a 'learning experience'. You may then accept that you did learn a lesson, just not the one that they wanted you to learn.

This chestnut comes from my father. He would often use it to stop us kids from making excuses for failures, and to encourage us to take responsibility. People who spout this cliche often want to deflect blame away from their direction. Unfortunately, it overshoots the mark and can be damaging to people who have a tendency towards self blame.

The problem with the quote is that failure is often caused by a myriad of factors, rather than just one constant fault. To continue the trade analogy, the weather may have been unsuitable, or the materials defective. The tools may in fact have been inadequate.

Taking personal responsibility for failure is not always appropriate and can mask the real cause of failure. The truth in the proverb comes from the tendency for the 'poor workman' to continuously blame one thing - be it his tools or whatever - without taking time to find out the real cause. A workman who continuously blames himself is also a poor workman, and one who will have a very short career before the weight of all the blame causes him to quit.

A good workman will not be afraid of blaming his tools. A good workman will find where the blame really lies rather than placing default blame on himself. A superlative workman will have no fear of exposing the fault.

"Think about it" means "I want you to think that:" means "I want to believe that:"

"... you don't have to go through the pain that you did learning through your previous experiences. I think there's easier and better ways out there. Life should be more enjoyable than just slogging away. So think about it, dig deep, don't be stubborn, be open, and enjoy yourself."

Being dissed like that hurts. Yes, it is a gloating underhanded diss. Translation of the above:

"You were wrong. You chose the hard way. You didn't listen. You were too 'stubborn' to change."

Well, I hope you're proven horribly wrong, you smug yuppie cosckucker. I hope your 'easier and better way' leads you to spend years in the wilderness with no option but to do the slogging that you try so hard to deny. I'll be there to tell you that you should be more 'open'.

"Or do ye think that ye shall enter the Garden of Bliss without such trials as came to those who passed away before you?" Koran 2:214

People who tell you you're living in the past invariably want you to forget something they did to you.

As temporal beings we have 3 possible foci:

1. To dwell on resolving past events, putting present and future on hold;
2. To avoid both past and future and concentrate on producing the most pleasurable present;
3. To simplify past and present to maximise future returns.

Living in the present is considered enlightened. Living for the future is considered diligent. But living in the past is almost considered a mental illness. Why? When it is the only choice that does not require any self-deception.

Whether you approach your path through reflection, therapy, or physical revenge, you come closer to resolving it. However, it inconveniences people who have a vested interest in your past. And so they throw you chestnuts like 'let go', or 'forgive and forget'.

If Joseph 'forgave and forgot' then his 12 backstabbing brothers would not have learned a valuable lesson. Likewise, Job would not have forced God to show his hand had he simply accepted his friends' interpretation of his past misfortune.

Living in your past is only bad for the other people living there.

Thanks, Mum.