the righteous brew

My mind grows weary as each day I draw closer to the start of a new journey. Not so much a new journey, for we all are on just one adventure, just a new route. My excitement subsides when I contemplate the unforeseen financial stress that will soon plague me. There are too many options and at this point in my life, it’s difficult to land a course – to make up my mind and plan the steps.
I am anxious to open a new world that, due to my cultural/career binds, has been out of my reach. It’s easy to imagine, but hard to realize. My present job (which consumes all of my life) lacks benefit and atrophies my personality. The fault is all my own – but I don’t harbor regret. Rather, I understand that each new change is a reaction to the previous change. Since college, I’ve been known as a “reactionary” – now my efforts are directed at being the “reactor.” I’m beginning to realize that you are either the product of your surroundings or your surroundings are the product of you. Much of this thought I owe to the challenging writing of Ayn Rand. Her character, Peter Keating, in “The Fountainhead,” was a product of the culture. Howard Roark, however, refused the cookie-cutter mold – he was static which caused the culture around him to be dynamic in response. People wanted Peter to be something…a creation of their preference. He ended up as nobody and forgotten. Roark, however, though having the same pressure, remained true to his character and became more than a human – he was a philosophy, an ideal, a force that couldn’t be ignored.
Too often, we all try our best to please the parties around us. We become obsessed with earning the approval of colleagues, parents, friends, or strangers. We filter our thoughts and conversation. We long for a pat on the back and affirmation. We want to know that what we’re doing is appreciated and acceptable. Acceptable to who? I have found that when I seek the acceptance of others, I lose self-acceptance. I am not being authentic and true to my very own self.
Recently, I have learned the power of silence. Being a complete ass or a cocky, self-indulged loner does not foster any good – though it can be a fun trigger to induce reactions. I refer back to Howard Roark, from “The Fountainhead.” His words were always few- subtle and dry. His heart was never to cut anyone down – no matter how much he differed from them. His lack of words, coupled with his unwavering character, brought about more reaction. What’s more intriguing is that Roark never asked others to justify themselves to him, but for some reason (I believe his silence), they felt obligated. But here’s the thing – they weren’t! Their self-justification was a gut reaction to the fact that he didn’t have to justify himself. He silently listened and others couldn’t help but verge down the road of introspection.

I love it.