Sunday 28 April 2019

The quiet eye


Hello.

Something I have gradually noticed afflicts those of my acquaintance who have a competitive spirit, is that competitiveness fosters stupidity.

I don't like to show people up online, so it's hard to give examples! I'll try to describe what I mean.

Suppose (to give a fictional example), a woman were to say to her friend at church, "In thirty years of making cakes I've found that using fresh eggs and fresh baking powder gives you a better rise than using old ones." And suppose her friend has a competitive spirit and replies hotly, "Well, I've been making cakes for my family every week for nine years and mine are perfectly satisfactory, thank you!" 

She does listen, but what she hears is a competition starting up. She hears the other woman saying, "My cakes are better than yours." So that's what she responds to.

Except, that isn't what the woman is saying. She wasn't starting a competition, she was sharing a life lesson — which the competitive woman didn't benefit from because she missed it. She was too busy staying at the front of the race. She missed the point and she missed the opportunity to learn. All she ended up with was the reassurance of "I'm as good as she is."

A competitive spirit divides our attention three ways — how I'm doing and how she's doing (who's winning), and the subject matter in hand. It's hard to learn something new when there's clamour in your head, and hard to notice and evaluate accurately when you're tense and anxious.

Humility has a quiet eye — it observes thoughtfully and maintains the interior spaciousness to take new information on board. Humility is its own form of minimalism, preserving an uncluttered mind.

21 comments:

greta said...

an excellent point. and that final sentence is going up on a card in my kitchen. humility as emotional minimalism; love it. keeping that low, quiet stance in a world of 'me, me, me.' also, if you haven't read it, i have another book recommendation for you - 'knocking on heaven's door - the path to a better way of death' by katy butler. it's not always an easy read, sometimes infuriating and upsetting, but with so much to take to heart. we, here in the states, may well have less 'slow medicine' than you do in england. we must actively fight to die a more natural death. a dear friend, also a pastor, swears that she is going to have "DNR" tattooed on her chest. not a bad idea.

Pen Wilcock said...

Ha! I read about a man who had DNR tattooed on his chest, and when he was taken to the emergency room the doctors started up an argument over his unconscious form, "Did he really mean it? Was he drunk when he had it done? Did he mean it at the time but has he changed his mind since?" (fair enough, I suppose, but . . .good grief . . .)
I have not come across that book and will go and check it out — thank you! I had high hopes of Kathryn Mannix's "With the End in Mind: Dying, Death and Wisdom in an Age of Denial", but though it was well written and she seemed a really nice person, it was all about the deaths of people who had already been well chewed by the machinery of orthodox medicine, and I found it disappointing. Though it certainly reinforced my determination to stay as clear as I could from the arts and practises of modern medicine!!
On a different topic (and DMW if you happen to read these comments too, I think you'd like this book), I recently read and wholeheartedly recommend Martha Stout's book, "The Myth of Sanity". Really thought-provoking.

Rebecca said...

Once again, you've communicated a major truth in a beautiful way. "Humility has a quiet eye."

Pen Wilcock said...

:0)

xxe

Fiona said...

Thank you for this post, Pen. I'm increasingly discouraged by the amount of competition inherent in our education system, and the way in which children are trained to compete from such an early age, when it is in fact so detrimental in so many ways. I believe that Alfie Kohn is on to something when he says that the phrase "healthy competition" is a contradiction in terms.

Pen Wilcock said...

Yes! On the plus side, I think the whole idea of collaborative (rather than competitive) board games has become more of a thing.

Anonymous said...

Nicely put. I am in the throes of being in a family relationship with such a closed-mind person. How I wish it could be different for both our sakes. They say there is no cure for stupidity. Soldier on! M.

Pen Wilcock said...

I once heard of a buddhist method for solving disputes; a form of debate in which each person had to argue the other person's point of view. It reminds me somewhat of my mother's system for apportioning cake between me and my sister — one cuts and the other chooses. I think something like that helps open the mind considerably.

Suzan said...

I had a step that my children would sit upon and work out their differences. They hated it as it was eight feet wide and they always started out far apart. The talk about the step with some fondness. I agree that competition has risen to unrealistic proportions. Today I peeled a mass of vegetables to help out at the meals on wheels where my son works. He kept telling me how fast I was. I didn't know it was a competition. I wanted the task done and done well.

On the DNR thing I can well believe the doctors wanting to reverse the decision. As registered nurses we were often heavily criticised for following DNR orders, The young doctors want to practice their skills but I am sorry DNR orders must be respected.

Pen Wilcock said...

What an interesting approach — a step where you start out far apart. And how intriguing that they hated it at the time but look back on it with fondness now.

Julie B. said...

I dislike competition for the most part, and so am not interested in sports. My father was a basketball coach and I met my sports quota by the time I was 18. I enjoy swimming and walking and things that aren't competitive. I play Words With Friends (JulieBalm) with a couple of people, and am always surprised when they remark about the score in any way. I don't look much at the score, only how interesting our words are. I could lose 100% of the time and I'd still play. I realize you weren't writing about sports, but your words led my thoughts to competitiveness in that way. I love Suzan's step idea -- brilliant. And the older I get, the more I see arrogance and pride as the ultimate weaknesses, and humility and kindness and forgiveness as the ultimate strengths. I love your readers' comments, Ember. xoxo

Pen Wilcock said...

I love everyone's comments too — including yours! Yes — Scrabble (which I think is the same or similar) — I play it on a physical board with Tony sometimes, and he keeps careful score in which I am utterly uninterested. Like you, I just delight in the best words, and I'm happy to get a smaller score for a more unusual word.

greta said...

thanks for the book recommendation. alas, our local library doesn't have a copy of 'the myth of sanity' but i am in the process of tracking it down, either at a nearby used bookshop or on amazon. the synopsis and reviews make it sound fascinating! and another one for you, 'holy envy' by barbara brown taylor - she taught a world religions class to college students and learned some good life lessons herself in the process. it gave me such a sense of space and freedom within the sometimes confining world of religion!

Pen Wilcock said...

I have not read this book! I love Barbara Brown Taylor's work, though I've read only "Leaving Church". Looking up the one you recommend I see she has written others I've missed. I'm going to add them all to my wish list and come back for them later, because I have just bought a whole slew of books, starting with Katy Butler and working outwards . . . Isn't it wonderful when you hit a seam of really inspiring writing! You keep recommending books — I love your choices, you book hound you!

greta said...

i admit it. i am a book hound. you'll enjoy barbara brown taylor's 'an altar in the world.' it's a keeper. one of my recent realisations is that i don't need a 'box' to keep my religious experience in. i've always been a seeker, looking for the perfect match, but now i know that no matter where i find myself, god goes with me - from quaker meeting to a light filled mosque, monastery to zendo, my grandson's bar mitzvah to taking a walk down to the nearby fields - god is present. it's given me an open heart as well as a new delight and curiosity in life all around me. amen to that, right?

Pen Wilcock said...

Ah yes — this reminds me of the Godly Play story — the Desert Story — where Abraham sets out from Ur not knowing if God would be there in the desert, and gradually discovers that all of God is there in every place. x

Anonymous said...

Hi Penelope
I have come to understand that communication is in itself threatening, and unless we learn how to communicate in healthy ways, (which I've found is is not often taught in families and can feel really weird to learn as an adult), we too often get defensive or shut down when people talk to us about anything that isn't super neutral. I love the book "Feeling Good Together," by David Burns. It's a couple's guide, but has very valuable information on communicating, for any two people!
DMW

Pen Wilcock said...

Thank you, DMW — I'll add that book to my list! x

Anekha said...

Ah yes, I know that conversation well. It's the way all conversations ensue in my family. Particularly with my sibling, but also with my parents. My father is a lawyer so enjoys the sort of discussion where you best the person your talking to. But I get so tired (as the youngest) of the need to be the best. I admire the spirit within that drives them all to excel, but it doesn't leave any room for me. There is nothing I could do or say that they haven't done or said or learned before me. To the point that if I express an interest in something new I expect them to rush off and do it faster than me. In their minds its how they show interest in what i'm doing. But it's quite deflating. I tend to take my time exploring things and enjoy the journey. I am not rushing to mastery or perfection. I like the slower path of contemplation and mysteries unfolding. I know if it really matters to me to keep it to my self. I don't think they realise how intrusive I find this attitude, i feel rejection as I can't share something I have learned or a story from my journey of self-discovery. I have realised that the only version of me they want to know is the one that reflects them and their wisdom. It's a shame, because at times I feel I do have a lot to share and support them they never will accept because they have to get it right, be perfect and be the best... all on their own.

Anekha said...

On another note, we love cooperative board games! They are a family joy my husband introduced me to. Board games when I grew up were competive and showed how clever everyone else was. It took me a long time to realise that I was just as clever, just younger.
I also home school my kids and I enjoy the non-competitive aspect. They only feel compelled to improve themselves and take that journey at their own pace. Actually I find them very motivated in this, and I wonder if the pressure of competition is in fact counter-productive as it sow seeds of self-doubt. I excelled at school in the traditonal way, but find mystelf lacking in a lot of self-confidence and skills.

Pen Wilcock said...

I can indeed relate to all you say here, Anekha. One of the most painful experiences I ever had of that kind of deflation-by-competition was an occasion when, at a theology group I used to run, I shared with them an insight into one of the gospels — how it was structured as an instrument of teaching — that had taken me *twenty years* to perfect and put together. There were two people there who affirmed what I said. The others rushed to say "But the REALLY important thing about that gospel is blah blah blah . . ." or "But I think one of the other gospels is FAR more interesting in its teaching structure . . ." and so on and on. I hope I handled their comments with respect. I also never went back.