Shouts From Down Under

Once I told the children a Once Upon A Time story but Zzzzz.

Do you ever feel inadequate? Do you ever doubt stuff? Doubt yourself?

Oh, you DON'T? Well feel free not to.

But for everyone else, in my opinion (that's probably not that humble mostly), I feel it's not a bad thing to be a bit dubious of the old self confidence thing.

Talk about going around in circles in a paradoxical spiral that ends up your own subject prompt.

I remember telling our kids a story once, when they were little tackers, about a boy who lay in his bed, and while waiting to go to sleep he looked up at his bedroom ceiling. But the ceiling seemed to be lower. He sat up and saw that the walls had moved a little. No. Must be just his imagination. There was a scrape sound, and he glanced over, gasped in alarm. (The kids were displaying a little alarm themselves at the story by now) The far wall had begun to push the wardrobe towards his bed. The walls were moving!

The entire room was closing in. Every time he blinked the walls came closer, the ceiling lower. In panic he tried to stare so that no more shrinking of his surroundings happened, but you can't let your eyes sting forever can you? So he finally felt his bed being put under pressure from the walls and furniture that was now crowding his steel framed bed.
(When I tried to stop telling this story, realising that it could really create nightmares for our children, what do you know? They cried out and demanded more of "the awesome story, dad!")

Well, I can't exactly remember how the boy stopped the room from crushing him and his bed, but at the last second he did something that reversed the effect and now every time he opened his eyes the room got bigger.
The end of the story was obvious by now, but the children didn't realise at their age, that they'd been conned by another Dad Story of tall order.

Yes, when the boy did close his eyes, the room stayed just as it should now. And, as all parents know, kids with their eyes shut, lying in their beds, will eventually do one thing, and one thing only. ZZZZZzzzz...

There is nothing so effective at putting your excess self confidence in its place, as children and their innocent honesty.

So, this inadequacy thing.

How can you be confident in anything, if you aren't in yourself, for crying out loud in a wetsuit!

Well, sometimes it's a case of the greater they are the bigger they fall - Big wigs, the Arrogant, the Bossy, the Jumper Inners (where Angels fear to tread), and trousers. We don't want our duds to go thud.

There are different ratings for this unwelcome, but lets be honest, somewhat purifying and relaxing feeling of not being up to par. The inadequacy dribblies. Not the Dry Dribblies that were I think invented by my late cousin Adele.

Huh! Dictionary reckons (Autospell whatever!) there is no such word as dribblies, let alone Dry Dribblies. What would an electron know anyway? It's not even a Neurone. They are the edumacated ones with a DEGREE in sensitiveness.

Well, up at the most star ratings of inadequacy, I feel for myself, is when I open my gummy sleep gritty eyes to peer around this world we live in, as of June 11th is it? 2015, and realise that we are on the sloppy shores of an era where we seem only a few clicks away from the seven billion others of our species, and perhaps the same pseudoness away from those of other ilks, like pets.

I'm not sure if there are plants with Twitter Accounts?

Ok, I've googled it and well, this is a good example of what I'm talking about.

http://thoughtshift.co.uk/anything-tweets-thanks-to-twitter-even-plants-2/

Even plants tweet to twitter? There goes my idea of having a plant with its own Twitter Account. Might still do it though yet. Maybe it might have some good story prompts to tweet, like; Still germinating. Weather is great down here in the dirt. Anybody got the time?" And such like, from the view of a growing Grevillia.(https://www.google.com.au/search?q=define+grevilia&oq=define+grevilia&aqs=chrome... an evergreen tree or shrub which bears conspicuous flowers that lack petals, most kinds of which are native to Australia)

Just how fast is this world moving? You can't seem to think up something new, or its already been done, already been thunk, already been politicked, already been worn to stumps by now.

"You are not special. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else." (Tyler Durden- Fight Club http://www.imdb.com/character/ch0001854/quotes)

My mind can't even extend across looking for a Tyler Durden quote to remember what my point was before that.

Oh yeah, feeling inadequate.

When folks follow you, and vice versa, and you meet more and more awesome people, and average people, nutters, and aggressive folks with no sense of humour, all these and more, then you start feeling so inadequate. You are just one person with one set of hands, a limited capacity for worrying, and other sundry issues.

You can't address everyone's letters. You can't send cards to everyone. You can't reply to everyone. You can't keep up with it all. You can't address your inadequacies in social media, on websites, on forum posts, thanking people, admiring people, reviewing people.

You feel inadequate when people look to you for something. And I'm hardly known. It's ridiculous. How difficult must it be for those who are known, worldwide? Celebrities. Politicians. Leaders. Personalities. The skill enabled savants.

How creepy, scary, terrifying and miserable life must be for all of these sometimes and probably always, once they become famous.

I like to think its ok for me. If I happened to become well known globally, instead of relatively anonymous, I wouldn't care what people thought of me. They could go whistle Dixie for all I care. I don't have to conform to fashion, or "say the right thing" or "measure up", or keep on being SOMEONE. I'm a nobody and don't care if I stay a nobody. I don't want fame!

But that, I get a sneaking feeling, is not how it would be.

Sometimes you read that the paparazzi and public driven media cry out about folks who demand privacy and say "well they chose public life, they chose fame, they chose big publicity, they chose that so suck it up sunshine. Let us pry into your personal private places, let us be justified in taking sneak photos of you, let us molest your every tiny detail of every move you make and every breath you take. Don't moan about it, because you chose this!

Really?

Nah. I disagree. Sure, there seems a good argument for expecting big things from them seeing as they've absorbed adoration and fandom credits. Now they should pay up with everything they've got, cause us Joe Publics made them what they are today. No need for talk about the hard yards of acting, the lonely work they did when they were out of sight, the perseverance before they GOT famous. Don't mention all that stuff because then we might feel guilty taking those nasty front page shots of them picking their nose or giving their kid a much needed tap on the backside to teach them manners. We might feel guilty, us paparazzi, for getting a fat payout for that incriminating photo.

Yes, where does it all end? Where does my inadequacy end and COPING begin?

I think it's healthy to feel a bit of doubt in yourself, even at the best of times. At one time you feel you know stuff for sure. You have it nailed. You're swaggering with certainty of where you stand, what you stand for, and who you can't stand. You place 100% faith in your motorcycle stand.

Then a nice little tap on the bottom comes, and it's YOUR turn to be fixed up. Your turn has come to be corrected, to be realigned, be brought down a peg or two, like we all do.

Ever notice that people who cause the most problems for the rest of mankind, would have been different people if their total up themselves-ness had been curbed before it got out of control? But then it becomes too late, and they really believe in their own infallibility. They think they are Arnold Schwarzenegger, but in reality they are just a lame version of The Hulk. Except they don't get any bigger, or go green, when they get angry, they just THINK they do.

One sign that someone is not "inadequate" enough, is when they think friends can be bought, purchased, traded, chosen, or forced to be their friend.

This is something I've had to nut out in my job as a support worker in the disability game. (There CAN be winners in this game)

Clients begin to think you are their friend, or "mate" after a while. It's a temptation to allow this to continue, even though it isn't advisable, or wise.
But where do you draw the line, and where do you refuse? Where do you run to, to hide from needy folks who don't realise you are most inadequate at being a false friend? A PAID friend. And yet not only should you not be their friend, but you should be invisible. You are there to support them in what THEY want to do, not what you think they should do.

As I said. It, life, is like a spiral sometimes, like a cyclonic vacuum cleaner bin full of dust particles that are whizzing around and around until you are dizzy with inadequacy.

Is it any wonder that half the developed world is on medication to suppress being pumped up too much, or to life up artificially if depressed too much?

Do people understand that you try only so much and then reality brings you to a sober conclusion. You can only do so much. You have to prioritise your time and energy. You have to work out what is important, who is important, and what you will choose to do next.

Because if you feel inadequate, the last thing you want is to show it, much less BLOG about it.

It's not showing confidence. It's showing weakness.

When it comes to clients, seriously, I find it pays to appear weak and less than with it. This stimulates them to try more, to feel they are helping you, rather than you supporting them.

Let's move on to writing adequacy. Grammar. Punctuation. Editing. Characterisation. Ambience. Dialogue. Realism. Plot. Description.

Let's not. I don't feel adequate for dat.

The point of this blog entry, in the beginning when I first began typing, was to express how inadequate I feel at thanking people. Folks on writing dot com, folks here who help us out in our real lives, folks who buy me tickets and do stuff for me in competitions or whatever.

I want you to know that I do think about this. But I just have to do what I can, relax about the rest, and hope that people understand. It's not always that I don't have the time. It can simply be that I can't remember. Or that I can't cope with learning all the stuff you do to buy people tickets and send them this, send them that, do this and do that. I just can't retain it.

Inadequate feelings can be fought if its important enough, and you can bring things to a happy conclusion without risking health and life.

But I think inadequacy can also be a tool to force us to take time and rest. We are not machines. Nor snowflakes.

AND, Tyler Durden, we are special. Every last person is special. There doesn't have to be anyone present, doesn't have to be a reason, doesn't need a witness, doesn't even need Schroedinger's Cat.

People are special even when they ARE inadequate. Special because they are inadequate.

The kitten rubbing around my neck said so. Inadequate = at home alone = warm on a cold winters night= cat purring.



Sparky