06/06/2015

The Inklings: Chapter 46

By Anna

To read the story from the beginning go here.

Syafika was almost back home when she noticed that her mum was walking up the street towards her. Rose looked very cross.

“What’s wrong?” asked Syafika when she and Rose both arrived at the front gate.

“I’ve had to spend the last two hours listening to India talk about permaculture and aquaponics!” said Rose. She spat out the words “permaculture” and “aquaponics” in such disgust that Syafika guessed they must be awful things (but had no idea what they were). India was one of their neighbours. She had a worm farm in the front yard, wore sandals made from recycled tires and liked to tell people about all the poor people she’d met while on exotic holidays. She also annoyed Festus by parking her large car across their driveway. When Festus complained to India she complained back that it wasn’t fair that not all houses in the street had off-street parking spaces. That attempt at a barb only made Festus laugh though. He did enjoy parking his low class plumber’s van in their expansive driveway while the neighbours were forced to park their expensive lumps of cars on the street, where they were vulnerable to being vandalized by the gangs of small children that often roamed the streets.

Syafika started walking to the front door but Rose stayed in the front yard. She was looking at the driveway and front yard and muttering something about nutrient cycling.

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11/08/2014

Empathy Challenge

By Anna

This challenge has a purpose beyond personal improvement. I’ve heard it mentioned more than once that psychopaths have taken over (since those who are willing to do anything to succeed tend to get into positions of power more than those who have empathy and a sense of morality) and are destroying society and the world. As psychopaths are obviously very successful, what can non-psychopaths do to win back the power? What do non-psychopaths have that psychopaths don’t? Empathy!

Once before when I had become a particularly cranky person I stumbled on some blogs about how practicing empathy can help you solve relationship problems and I decided to try it. I spent a very short amount of time (no more than 10 minutes probably) thinking about how my son and husband were feeling – imagining being them. And I suddenly wasn’t cranky with them anymore. In fact I was more cranky with myself. I remember that for a while our house was very harmonious.

I’m not sure whether having harmonious homes could make ordinary people powerful enough to take on psychopaths but because of the relatively little effort it takes I think it would be worth trying. If we have one weapon that psychopaths don’t, why not try to develop it and find uses for it?

I can imagine that the commonly used divide and conquer trick would be less effective on a highly empathetic population. I also reckon we’d be better at cooperating, which is necessary when you don’t have the resources of the rich psychopaths.

Anyway, so my challenge is to spend 10 minutes a day feeling empathy. I will choose a different person each day and I can choose whoever I feel like choosing. Probably I will choose someone who has annoyed me that day. And I will write about what happens.

When I decided to try this challenge I imagined that I’d conclude what I already suspected. That empathy helps us get along better and maybe prevents some kids turning into psychopaths so that it is a bit like planting trees. Effort is highest at the beginning and rewards grow with time.

What I didn’t expect was that it would open a whole new world, or that it would take me such a long time to be able to gather these thoughts and attempt to articulate them. Or that just when I was on the cusp of being able to do this I would hear someone else explain much the same thing (as usual, someone else got there first!).

I empathised with people close to me, people I hardly know and with infamous people that I have never met but think I know a lot about. Although I never intended to only empathise with people who had made me angry, that was what I ended up doing. It was scarier to empathise with people who are close to me than with people I’d never met because it meant I’d have to look at myself from their point of view.

When I empathised with people in my family it was always prompted by me feeling angry that I carry too large a burden. It is true that my list of things to do never gets shorter despite my best efforts and sometimes when I’m tired I wish I didn’t have to be responsible for anyone else. I never wanted to be a “homemaker”, but I do most of the housework and that is probably the thing that makes me most cranky. Women and especially mothers are the default carers and cleaners – unless they can find someone who will do these jobs for them they end up being the ones who are left with them. If it weren’t that housework has been given a lower status than other jobs I might not feel like I’m being downtrodden. If I hadn’t been encouraged to think that doing things for others was a burden I might not feel angry either.

Applying a bit of empathy made me see that:

  • I only notice the jobs that are left for me to do – not the ones that other people always do.
  • I actually enjoy most of the jobs I do and perhaps I am the one who gets the most out of them. Housework gets you moving and is a good break from stressing out at a desk job.
  • I love my family and I want to do things for them.

If you fear becoming a doormat or look down on people who are doormats you may fear that empathy will make you weak, and because we live in a society where competition is the focus (rather than cooperation) we all want to be winners and fear being losers. The trouble is that in any competition there has to be losers (usually more losers than winners). You may not agree, but I believe that being able to help is real power – more powerful and more satisfying than forcing someone else to do what you want.

I found that the rewards of empathy are immediate, and they benefit me. If you don’t like being angry, try empathy. It makes anger disappear. It doesn’t matter if you get it wrong when you imagine what the person who annoyed you was thinking or feeling. The important thing is that you imagine being that person because then you will understand that they probably had a good reason to be the way they were – or at least as much reason as you have for the things you do.

I’d even go as far as saying that empathy is a good substitute for religion for people who don’t like the idea of religion. What else is being left-wing really about anyway? Imagine if everyone in the world was really just the same “spirit” but inside different bodies and the different circumstances associated with that. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” seems pretty clear then.

When I am not spending my energy being angry I can use it to think about things clearly – to be able to see how the particular conflict fits into everything else. Is it trivial or important? When I’m not busy thinking about how wrong the other person is (though that is so tempting, and so satisfying in the short term) I can move on to thinking about how the conflict could be resolved. What outcome do I want? What outcome do “they” want? Is it possible for everyone to be satisfied? What’s the fairest compromise? How could the conflict have been avoided?

The thing I realise I cannot do very well (nor can most people) is work out what the core of the problem is and to be able to communicate it in such a way that I don’t just make people angry or defensive. It is easier to see how other people should have communicated to me than to be able to work out how I could have communicated better because my emotions get mixed in. When someone does something that upsets me or makes my life difficult I want them to know that I am annoyed. There is some satisfaction in telling them that they are wrong and being able to yell it out and for people to see that I am angry (and maybe look scared). But is that going to work? It will if they are scared of me. Otherwise it won’t.

An example of a conflict that could have done with a dose of empathy was one that I witnessed at a jumping castle. The lady in charge of taking money for the castle ($3 per child for 15 minutes of jumping) was telling a lady that her son had been on the castle for 30 minutes. The lady responded “What do you want me to do? Tell him to get off? You want me to tell him to get off?” and then she did tell her son to get off, and her other kid too, explaining loudly that the lady was wrong about him having been on there too long but that they were going anyway.

Then a man, who I assume was the father of the kids and/or partner of the mother, became involved. He told the lady running the jumping castle that the kids had only been on there long enough for him to go and get a Chai, which couldn’t have been more than five minutes, and then went on to say that the goodwill and community support she was losing by getting their kids to get off the castle was worth more than the cost of 15 minutes of jumping and that she was wrong. His voice was quite loud by the end and the lady in charge of the castle was repeating “Ok, I’m wrong” over and over, probably hoping it would make the argument end sooner.

After seeing that argument I realised how satisfying it is to be able to blame someone else for something that went wrong. Being able to personally convict someone of an offence and label them as a bad person (and having it on their record to influence future expectations) just feels like the right thing to do. And if everyone else is wrong, then it must make me being right even more special. But what about when someone does that to me? If one day I do something that isn’t nice (deliberately or due to thoughtlessness) would it be fair to be labelled as a bad person? Would I like people to say “Oh, but she’s just like that, what did you expect?”? If I annoy someone is it ok for them to say it was all my fault? Or to wish I hadn’t be born?

I can see the danger in someone who is being treated badly using empathy to let the abuser off lightly, and I’ve read how caring too much is the curse of the working class, so empathy is something to be used thoughtfully. It needs to be used more generously on those who deserve it than on those who do not. But if you have worked out that a person deserves empathy, I think it should be used on them. And it doesn’t stop there.

It was while listening to Bob Brown respond to criticism that he was just as able to play politics as others in parliament (http://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/lifematters/optimism3a-bob-brown/5646720) that I realised he’d already worked out that having empathy can make you stronger not weaker. In a funny way it makes you closer to the non-caring psychopath because when you can see through your anger to the facts you can be more ingenious and cunning – you become a more evenly matched opponent, but one that is fighting for something good.

One of the infamous people I spent quite a bit of time empathising with was Rupert Murdoch, because I am angry that he has such a large influence over politics as well as public opinion, and I think it is such a waste that such influence is used for bad instead of good.

I imagined a young Rupert Murdoch feeling looked down upon by the intellectual elite and thinking “I’m going to show you!”, and hasn’t he ever? Now money is a more powerful influence on political decisions than science or expertise. The intellectual elite are now all brains and no claws – able to know everything but do nothing.

I imagine the delight a kid who was not classed as intelligent by the kind of tests done at school when he grows up into a “bogan” who can afford a better house than a University Professor and I get cranky with the school system that focuses on competition, because that is not what life is about (it is about getting along with each other and getting things done TOGETHER) and because it means that most of the kids will end up feeling that they aren’t very smart.

No wonder there isn’t as much enthusiasm for limiting financial inequality as you’d expect. If you take away the potential for someone who has been excluded from the intellectual elite to become super rich then you are taking away the potential for them to climb the class ladder because they’ve been made to believe that you are either clever or you aren’t (and it can’t be changed), but that with hard work you can become rich. And you become sceptical of the motivations behind the quest for financial equality – it would mean that other kinds of inequality such as superior intelligence would become so much more influential.

Imagine if instead, science and other “academic” passions were more like gardening – open to anyone and embracing enthusiasm more than anything else. Maybe then Rupert Murdoch’s media empire would provide us with visions of utopia and practical ways to get there.

 

 

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17/05/2014

The Inklings: Chapter 45

By Anna

To read the story from the beginning go here.

Syafika gave up trying to sleep when she heard birds chirping outside. She reached out and opened the blind so she could watch the sky change colour as the sun came up. The excitement she’d felt the night before had given way to sadness. As she enjoyed the sunrise she couldn’t help crying. How was it that she only managed to appreciate the beauty in everyday things when she was feeling miserable?

A Noisy Miner landed on the window sill and looked judgmentally at Syafika. She couldn’t help asking “Did Vincent send you, little bird?” and in reply the bird flew away.

Then Syafika cried some more because she had finally realized that Vincent was not going to call her again.

“What am I going to do now?” Syafika asked herself. Then she realized that it was Tuesday and she was going to Fanta’s place for morning tea.

“How was last night?” said Rose when Syafika walked into the kitchen. She was a bit confused by Syafika appearing so early in the morning when she didn’t have to go to work. Then Rose looked a bit closer and noticed that Syafika looked really tired and had red eyes, as if she had been crying all night.

Rose rushed over to Syafika and gave her a cuddle and asked “What happened?”

“Vincent isn’t going to call me ever again, is he?” answered Syafika quietly.

“Don’t worry about that!” said Rose. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Syafika smiled and started to feel better. She decided to have a cup of tea.

A few hours later Syafika swished out of the front gate on her way to morning tea at Fanta’s house. She was wearing a pretty dress and carrying a bunch of jasmine.

Evan though Syafika was a bit worried that Fanta wouldn’t approve, the first thing Syafika did when she arrived at Fanta’s house was to tell Fanta about her date with Anthony. Fanta had never liked the sound of Anthony, but for some reason Fanta wasn’t particularly angry and seemed more concerned that Vincent still hadn’t called Syafika. John and D’arby arrived while Syafika and Fanta were discussing it.

“John! What can we do to make Vincent realize that he won’t find anyone better than Syafika?” asked Fanta

“He still hasn’t called?” asked John

“No” said Syafika. Despite the sudden change in topic from Anthony to Vincent, Syafika was feeling sad enough at being reminded that Vincent hadn’t called for tears to start rolling down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry! Leave it up to D’arby and me” said John

“What are we going to do?” asked D’arby.

“We are going to remind Vincent of Syafika” said John

“How?” asked Fanta

“Yeah, how?” asked D’arby

“Do you have a special song? A song that will remind Vincent of the times he spent with you?” John asked Syafika

“I don’t think so” said Syafika

“Nothing? Didn’t you share music? Didn’t you listen to music together?” asked John

“Yeah…Vincent did give me a CD.I took it to work with me but hardly listened to it. Wait! It’s in here somewhere” said Syafika and she started rummaging around in her handbag.

“Here” said Syafika, and handed a CD to John

“The Very Best of Cat Stevens!” said John

“Yeah, Vincent things he is great but I found it sort of boring” said Syafika

“I know this song – The First Cut is the Deepest” said Fanta

“Did Cat Stevens write that?” asked D’arby, looking at Syafika

“Don’t ask me!” said Syafika

“That’s a good song to play Vincent” said Fanta “But how are you going to get him to listen to it?”

“I have an idea, but I’ll have to discuss it in private with D’arby first” said John. “What I need to know is where Vincent lives, works and the places he likes to go in his spare time” said John

John and D’arby seemed to be pretty excited by their new assignment. Fanta thought it would be better if she didn’t ask what they were planning in case she disapproved. Syafika didn’t really care what they did. She’d be happy if Vincent called her again but she would also be happy if Anthony called instead.

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02/02/2014

If you take too long to decide you end up with no choice

By Anna

What would you give up to save the world? Hot showers? Chocolate? Alcohol? Make-up? Driving? Your reputation? Your freedom? I’m not asking because giving up these things would directly result in the world being saved. I’m asking to get a sense of how much saving the world is worth to you (whether for your own satisfaction or for your kids or for nature or your legacy). Your answer should give you an idea of how much effort you should put in, that’s all. Because we can’t expect to be able to save the world AND still have everything we’ve ever wanted. Just like you can’t expect to be able to balance your household budget and buy everything you like. Living within your means and living within your ecological means are similar.

What should we do when greenhouse gas emissions are changing the climate (and while we can’t be sure of how bad the consequences will be we do know that they won’t be good)? Should we try to keep the economy growing and see if we can reduce emissions a bit at the same time? Or should we aim to control emissions first while doing the best we can for the economy?

What should we do when worldwide electricity demand is anticipated to grow? Put all our efforts into meeting that anticipated demand (fulfilling the prophecy) or think about whether the cost is worth the gain?

What would you do if your kids wanted more and more lollies? Get a second job so you could afford to buy an exponentially increasing amount of lollies and be able to pay dentists to repair their teeth and doctors to fix their diabetes and personal trainers to take them running to lose weight? Or only buy lollies occasionally and learn to put up with some whinging?

Maybe it isn’t about having to make a choice – maybe the choices are already clear. Maybe it is just about admitting that we can’t have everything.

The sweetest thing is that once you have accepted that you can’t have everything, you realise you didn’t want everything anyway. We are more adaptable than we anticipate!

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03/08/2013

The Inklings: Chapter 44

By Anna

To read the story from the beginning go here.

“What an amazing orator!” said John after the strange robed man walked off. D’arby just grunted and said nothing. He hardly said anything for the rest of the day, no matter how hard John tried to prompt him. At first John managed to remain good humoured, but by night time he’d had enough.

“What is friggin wrong with you?” John demanded after 20 minutes of watching D’arby spin a pen around on the table.

D’arby rubbed his eyes and sighed. “That man we saw at the café this morning who was wearing a white robe and preaching is the same man who sat next to me when I went to visit Jinabu and who stole my draft plan for saving the world. And the notebook he had was red, just like the one I lost on the train yesterday. The things he was saying yesterday were not really part of my plans, but it is as if he is able to imagine what I am thinking, only he is better able to articulate my thoughts than I am, and he is a much better speaker. Imagine how you would feel if you came across a more effective version of yourself.”

“Ha, I get you” said John, thinking of his brother Tim, although John hadn’t fully understood the significance of the robed man having a red notebook that looked like D’arby’s. “But isn’t it good to find that someone else has the same ideas as you?” asked John.

“Don’t you understand? Or do you think I’m just being paranoid?” asked D’arby. “That man doesn’t have the same ideas as me, he STEALS my ideas! But then he does better with them than I do. He goes out and tells people things, while I just sit around stewing.”

John found what D’arby said a bit disturbing, and did start to think that D’arby might be a bit paranoid. Afterall, it is possible for two people to have the same opinion, and to have the same colour notebook. But John decided to humour D’arby and see if D’arby’s mood would pass on its own. “That’s good though, isn’t it?” said John. “I mean, if he is going around and preaching your ideas then you don’t need to do it yourself and have more time to think. Besides, I don’t think you’d really enjoy doing what he is doing.”

“I guess so” said D’arby, after thinking about it for a while. “But it is a bit creepy. I can’t help imagining that if I look out the window I’ll see him peeping in at us”

John couldn’t help himself and found himself turning to look out of the window, but he could see nothing worth noting except the last remnants of sunset.

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18/07/2013

The Inklings: Chapter 43

By Anna

To read the story from the beginning go here.

It had been over a week since Syafika and Vincent had their big fight and Vincent still hadn’t contacted Syafika. Syafika was feeling unloved and thought that Vincent was being very self-centred. Vincent was showing his stubborn side and it really was a stubborn side. Syafika had spent most of the week staring at the telephone, hoping that Vincent would call and then getting angry when he didn’t.

Syafika was angrily washing the dishes and thinking about how awful Vincent was being when she heard the phone ring. She stopped washing the dishes and listened as her mum answered then called her to the phone.

Syafika ran to the phone because she thought Vincent had finally decided to apologise and she wanted to get to the phone before he changed his mind.

“Hello” said Syafika

“Hello Syafika! Why are you breathless? Is it because it is exciting to hear from me?”

Syafika took a couple of seconds to respond. Her mind had to change gears.

“Syafika?”

“Anthony?” said Syafika, finally.

“Yes. Did you miss me?” asked Anthony

Syafika couldn’t believe she was in the sort of situation she had once spent all of her spare moments dreaming about and wasn’t able to truthfully say that she’d missed Anthony.

“At first I missed you, but then I just got on with life” answered Syafika.

“I missed you” said Anthony

“What about your girlfriend and baby?” asked Syafika. She hadn’t forgotten about that!

“I made that up” said Anthony. “They don’t exist”

“Why?” asked Syafika

“Because I needed an excuse to leave” said Anthony

“Why? Why couldn’t you just say you were leaving?” asked Syafika

Anthony was sick of the topic though, and he ignored the question.

“So what are you doing tonight?” asked Anthony

“I hadn’t thought about that yet” replied Syafika

“Let’s go out for dinner then” said Anthony.

Syafika didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what she wanted to do or what she should do. She’d been ready to spend the evening at home, waiting for Vincent to call.

“Well?” asked Anthony

“Ok” said Syafika and they arranged to meet in an hour.

When Syafika hung up the phone she was still justifying this date to herself. She decided it was going to be just a friendly dinner and that Vincent couldn’t have objected to that (although she was dreaming if she thought he wouldn’t) and that because Vincent hadn’t called her for a week Syafika could do what she liked. It was only when Syafika was satisfied with her reasoning that she realized she had agreed to meet Anthony in only one hour! Of course it was only going to be a friendly date, but it was still a date with Anthony. How could she make herself look perfect and get to the restaurant in less than an hour? She hadn’t even thought about what she would wear. She would be lucky if she even owned something nice enough for this special occasion and if she did there was no way it would be clean and ironed.

“Mum! Help me!” yelled Syafika.

Sixty five minutes later, Syafika arrived at the restaurant. Rose knew that Syafika and Vincent had been fighting but she had never known about Syafika’s obsession with Anthony and so she didn’t really understand what this date with a strange man was about. Nevertheless, Rose helped Syafika choose some clothes to wear and did her hair. Rose hoped that if Vincent was out of the picture the replacement was at least as handsome as him.

Anthony wasn’t there when Syafika arrived at the restaurant and so she immediately began to feel foolish. Why had she rushed? Now he would think she was keen to see him. Or what if he wasn’t coming at all? What would she do then? Would she have dinner by herself? Syafika wasn’t even wearing a watch so she couldn’t tell how late he was. She sat down at a table by herself and pretended to be looking at the menu while these thoughts floated around in her head. She was so worried about what to do if Anthony didn’t turn up that she forgot he might actually arrive.

When Anthony walked into the restaurant he saw Syafika staring intently at the menu, looking sort of worried.

“My lovely Syafika!” said Anthony, as he walked over to the table. Syafika looked up to see Anthony with such a big smile on his face that it was almost ridiculous. She couldn’t believe that he was so happy to be there with her, but that’s what it looked like.

“Hello” said Syafika. She was thrilled to see Anthony, but also worried about what would happen and she was feeling guilty because she wasn’t sure whether she was still in a relationship with Vincent or not.

Anthony sat down. “So what are you having? I saw you studying the menu carefully.”

“I don’t know. What do you suggest?” said Syafika, but she was just talking without thinking. She wanted to fill the space and make things feel a bit more normal because Anthony was still smiling crazily.

“It’s good to see you again” said Anthony. “I missed you”

Syafika couldn’t believe her ears. It was the second time in the same day she’d heard something that belonged in daydreams. Although things were different now and Syafika thought she still loved Vincent, she couldn’t help saying “I’m glad to see you again too”, although she didn’t add that she had missed Anthony, because that still wasn’t true. She had scarcely thought about Anthony since she met Vincent, but she knew that she would be thinking a lot about him now.

Syafika soon realized that Anthony had an agenda for the evening. He ordered some food (Syafika didn’t care what) and as soon as the waitress had gone he said “So, what have you been up to? I heard that you and Vincent broke up”. Syafika’s lies were coming back to get her. Anthony wasn’t talking about her recent fight with Vincent, but the story she’d made up about breaking up with her imaginary Vincent.

“Who told you that?” asked Syafika. Anthony must have been in touch with someone from work. Then their drinks arrived, so Anthony took the opportunity to avoid Syafika’s question.

“So, are you still single? Asked Anthony

At least Syafika had met a real life Vincent. It made it easier for her to explain what was going on now.

“I don’t know” said Syafika. “Vincent and I had a big fight and we haven’t been talking for a week.” As she said this, Syafika felt bad because she really didn’t believe that she and Vincent had broken up and she should have said so.

Anthony looked disappointed and confused. “So, did you and Vincent get back together again?” he asked.

“Yeah” said Syafika, extending her old lie.

“And now you have broken up again?” Asked Anthony

“I don’t know” said Syafika.

“Well you should work out what’s going on. It’s important” said Anthony. “Anyway, let’s talk about something else now.”

The rest of the evening was more comfortable. Syafika even managed to relax enough to be able to understand Anthony’s jokes (when she was nervous her brain didn’t work very well). At the end of the evening, Anthony walked her home, patted her on the shoulder, said he’d had fun and told her to take care of herself.

Syafika stayed awake all night, trying to work out what was going on. Three things were bothering her at once. The first was that Vincent still hadn’t called her and she didn’t know what that meant. She hadn’t thought that their fight would end the relationship and she didn’t want it to.

The second thing that bothered Syafika that night was whether it was right for her to have gone out for dinner with Anthony when she still thought Vincent was her boyfriend. Until she sorted out an answer to her first concern, Syafika couldn’t sort out the second.

The third thing that kept Syafika awake took most of her thoughts that night. She was wondering how much Anthony was interested in her and whether she had blown her chance that night. At first he’d seemed really keen. Remembering this made Syafika’s heart beat faster. However, after they had discussed Vincent, Anthony’s mood had changed and it had become less of a romantic date and more like dinner between friends. Even if Syafika and Vincent were still together, even if Vincent rang to apologise tomorrow, Syafika would still like Anthony to be in love with her, not just a friend. Of course if Anthony did tell Syafika that he loved her, Syafika would ask Anthony if they could just be friends (that’s if she decided that she was still with Vincent). Syafika was really disappointed that Anthony hadn’t tried to kiss her (not that she would have kissed him back, but just because she wanted him to have tried). Then Syafika thought about this a bit more and realized that maybe Anthony’s not kissing her was a good sign because it meant that he respected her too much to try when he wasn’t sure that she was single. Maybe it was a sign that he wanted to marry her! Maybe Anthony wasn’t sleeping either. Maybe he was lying awake and hoping that she and Vincent would really break up. Syafika didn’t rest on this thought though. If Anthony was awake, maybe he wasn’t thinking of her at all. Maybe he was out dancing and having fun. Maybe Vincent was out dancing too.

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10/06/2013

The things we do because we care

By thespaarrrk

I’m losing my faith in humanity.  I, like many of the stories I’ve read here, have some form of forward thinking where I see our destructive nature, our denial at our own hand in it, and the outright narcissism and hatred towards those of us who bear the weight of this knowledge and try to educate others, or battle injustice, disease, disaster capitalism, and social injustice daily.

My current dilemma?  I’m taking part in the American cancer society’s annual bike-a-thon in Philadelphia this year.  I participated last year also.  To do this, I “donate” a pretty sizeable fee to ride, and also try to get donations for my team.  The ACS doesn’t just throw money at junk medicine and science as many people seem to take pride in trumpeting about, but provide critical services to those who have cancer and need support, rides, and medical assistance.

I struggled last year with raising donations, and finally succumbed to asking people very directly and being pushy in a salesman-type way, which is not my way. It was an internal struggle, but I felt as if I had to be pushy and hated it.  This year, I’ve only posted on FB and asked people more generally for donations, and with only a 6 weeks before the ride, I’ve gained exactly $0 in donations.  One facebook post asking for donations resulted in someone ridiculing the ACS and discouraging others from donating.  These are supposed to be my friends?

I feel depressed that had any of them asked me for a donation to their cause, with very few exceptions, I would happily have supported their efforts.  I only give pause to the most known corrupt charities and always do my homework on who helps, and most really do help to great degrees.

So yeah, every attempt to raise donations has only resulted in my increased sense of loss- loss of people I thought were friends, loss of my feelings towards humanity, and loss of some self.  I often wonder how well I could do in this world had I only sheer ignorance, denial, and a fair amount of narcissism in me.  At times I wish I was a jerk like everyone else, but I’m not.  I can’t change who I am, but I’m terribly discouraged right now.

Caring can sometimes feel like a burden, or a losing battle, especially when the time comes to take action.  Those who feel genuine concern are the ones who are left to shoulder the less glamorous tasks of organizing, corresponding, following up, and raising funds, whilst the “trumpeters” are nowhere to be seen or heard.  I empathize strongly with your feelings of frustration and discouragement, and I would even go so far as to say that if my Spark capabilities allowed it, I would feel frustrated and discouraged myself.  In fact, you may find it a comfort to know that you are by no means alone in the world of despair and frustration when it comes to caring and wanting to make the world a better place. You can be sure that anyone who has ever made an impact on social justice or environmental issues has experienced a healthy dose of discouragement, depression and loss of self-worth through their many fruitless attempts to be heard or taken seriously. It takes a lot of courage, determination and perseverance to break through the seemingly impenetrable wall of complacency that surrounds you, in the form of “friends” and family, colleagues, acquaintances and strangers in the crowd. Knock-backs and indifference hurt, particularly when it’s directed towards a cause that you feel passionate about.

The important thing to remember is that the wall is not impenetrable, it is possible to have an impact, and every attempt to chip away helps. For every hundred people who don’t seem to care, there will be a precious few who will applaud you and value your efforts. This is what makes it feel worthwhile. But even if nobody recognizes or appreciates your commitment, pressing on and doing everything you can do, just to know that you did your best, is still important, because it matters to you and the things you feel strongly about are worth fighting for.

There are two parts to my advice, and depending on how the first part goes you might not need the second.

The first thing is to keep trying to raise donations, which will involve asking for them, but doesn’t mean you have to become a salesman. Use personal appeals to those who you think might be most receptive and spread the net wider to find people who are genuine and willing to support your cause. Maybe there are people and places you haven’t yet thought of approaching? You could ask others who are participating in the ACS ride how they are going with fund raising and see if they can offer you advice, or even just moral support.  It really does help. You could give your “friends” both in and out of Facebook a reminder. There may be some people who did like the idea, but just forgot.

The content of your appeals and reminders is where you can concentrate on not being too pushy, but bear in mind that some people might need you to explain why you think the charity is worthwhile. Others might be compelled if they knew how much it would mean to you if they helped you, or  they might need to know that even a very small donation is appreciated – that they don’t have to give more than they can spare. If you choose your words carefully it should be possible to make a respectable effort to raise donations without feeling you have been too pushy. Don’t feel you have to be someone you aren’t, but remember that you will more likely come across as passionate than pushy.

If your efforts to raise donations still leave you feeling depressed because certain people disappoint you, then the second part of my advice is to use your empathy to help you feel better.

Pick one of the people who disappointed you, assume that deep down they are a decent person and imagine being them. Try to work out why they behaved the way they did. For example, did the person who ridiculed ACS on Facebook think they were helping you by warning you? Or were they feeling envious because they don’t manage to do charity rides (but would like to)? Maybe they aren’t fit enough or can’t afford to make the donation required? Others might be going through some kind of crisis and haven’t got the energy to pay attention to you. It doesn’t really matter what the reason is, but if you put yourself in their shoes it will not only make you feel better but help you to work out how to be more successful in future campaigns.

The Spark

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02/05/2013

The Inklings: Chapter 42

By Anna

To read the story from the beginning go here.

D’arby’s Christmas break was very productive. By the time he got back he had filled a whole notebook with ideas and plans for saving the world. D’arby was keen to show John his notebook and discuss some of the ideas and so he rushed home from the train station, hoping that John would still be awake.

Of course John was still awake. He’d been missing D’arby and couldn’t wait for his return. Spending Christmas with his family had made John more passionate than ever about doing “something”. He had been daydreaming about the next family Christmas, where it would be him, not Tim, who everyone was impressed with. John also couldn’t wait to show D’arby all the interesting gadgets that Tim had given him.

John boiled the kettle and put bread in the toaster as soon as D’arby came in the door. Normally D’arby just wanted to have a shower and go to bed after such a long trip, but tonight he started going through his bag looking for his special note book as soon as he got in the door. Before D’arby could find his notebook John had brought him toast, chamomile tea and a handful of tiny electronic things to look at.

“Oh thanks!” said D’arby in an appreciative tone. “I’m just looking for my notebook. I want to show you some of my new ideas” said D’arby and he began taking everything out of his bag so he could find the notebook, but after every pocket of the bag was empty the notebook still hadn’t appeared. D’arby let out a few swear words when he had to conclude that he must have left his precious ideas behind on the train.

“Don’t worry” said John. “You’ll remember them” but D’arby was so tired he couldn’t remember anything he’d written and was sure that something really good would be lost forever.

“Oh, did you have your name on the book?” asked John. “You could call the lost property number and see if they found your notebook” suggested John. D’arby hadn’t written his name on the book, but decided he’d call in the morning anyway. He wasn’t hopeful though, and went to have a shower without eating his toast or drinking his chamomile tea.

John sadly unfolded the sofa bed and tried to sleep. He decided he’d cheer D’arby up in the morning by taking him to a café for breakfast.

John’s plan to make D’arby happy with a café breakfast didn’t get off to a good start because D’arby’s favourite café was closed until the middle of January. They reluctantly decided to try their luck with the place a few doors down instead. John and D’arby sat inside, but right near the large front window that was wide open. After they had ordered their breakfasts they eavesdropped on the conversation of the people at the table directly outside the window. The two men at the outside table were dressed suitably for the café, which was the most expensive in the area and either was, or successfully pretended to be, the place where important people had their coffees – or at least the place where the most high maintenance people had their coffees. The men outside looked like they had just come out of a beauty salon. Even John and D’arby could tell that their neighbours were wearing fake tans, had had their eyebrows waxed and their teeth whitened. Their hairstyles were more ambitious than anything John or D’arby would ever contemplate and their clothes looked so new that John couldn’t believe they had ever been worn before. John was particularly amazed by the bright whiteness of the T-shirt of the man on the left. John’s whites were never that bright.

The man on the right wore a black T-shirt with the name of an expensive brand written across the front in sparkly gold letters. The man in the white T-shirt had been explaining how the council had rejected his development application because it exceeded height restrictions and the man in the black T-shirt responded “So? What you gonna do? You aren’t going to leave it at that are you? Don’t be a pussy! Tell them who your Dad is. Take the Mayor out to dinner and get him drunk” and as he said this he took the last piece of toast from his friend’s plate.

“Hey! I was going to eat that!” said white T-shirt man.

“The quick and the dead man, the quick and the dead” replied black T-shirt man.

Then a man dressed in a calf-length, off-white cotton robe walked up to the outside table. He had shoulder length brown hair and a neat beard. His robe was accessorized with a faded, geometrically patterned woven bag (worn diagonally across his body) and he wore sandals on his hairy feet.

“Gentleman” said the man in the off-white robe. “You don’t need to pretend to be loved and valued. You don’t need to preen and build tall buildings. Those things hinder you rather than help you in the quest for the good life. If you want to be happy you should work on relationships, not appearances.

Both men looked angry by the time the robed man had finished speaking but the man in the black was the quickest to respond.

“Fuck off! Have you had a look at your appearance lately? And what are you doing wearing sandals when your feet are in that condition?”

John, D’arby and the robed man all looked down at the robed man’s feet, which as well as being hairy had dirty toe nails that could do with a trim.

“So do you get many chicks in that outfit?” asked white T-shirt man and he and his friend started laughing.

“Get many chicks?” asked the robed man. “I don’t want to ‘get chicks’ like women are some sort of purchase. Wouldn’t you deep down like to have a proper relationship with a woman – one with mutual respect?”

“Oh piss off” said black T-shirt man and he started playing with his phone.

The robed man shrugged his shoulders and walked off with a slight giggle. When he was about 10 metres down the street he stopped and took a red notebook out of his bag. While he was leafing through the notebook D’arby and John could hear him say to himself “That man really needs a hug. Somebody give him a hug.”

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14/04/2013

The Inklings: Chapter 41

By Anna

To read the story from the beginning go here.

In Syafika’s family the tradition for Christmas lunch was to have an early savory course, then open Christmas presents and then have dessert. Syafika liked that very much because the break between courses meant she could eat so much more – she didn’t have to save room for dessert. Syafika giggled to herself when she realized that now that Vincent wasn’t coming she wouldn’t have to worry about what he thought if she ate a lot.

When it was time to move to the lounge room to open presents Syafika was so blissfully full of perfectly roasted potatoes that she no longer cared what Vincent did or what her parents thought about her and Vincent. She didn’t even care when Ousman took the place next to her on the sofa.

Rose and Binta picked up presents from under the Christmas tree, read the labels and handed them to the right people. Everyone watched patiently and waited until all the gifts had been handed out before opening theirs.

When Rose or Binta found a present labelled “Amanda” or “Vincent” they put them aside without saying anything. Amanda was still in her room and unsurprisingly had refused to come out of her room for Christmas.

Syafika found that in her pile of presents was one from Amanda. It was a hair brush, which surprised Syafika because she needed one – hers had gone missing and she had been borrowing Rose’s hair brush for the last week.

Syafika looked at Ousman, who was being very quiet and noticed that he was delicately opening an envelope with a gold ribbon around it. Ousman took out a piece of paper and unfolded it. Syafika looked over Ousman’s shoulder and saw that it was a copy of a hand written letter. Ousman smiled as he read it, before turning to Syafika and saying proudly “Look! A letter from my Dad”. Syafika took the letter from Ousman and read it.

To my dear son Ousman,

You would not believe how happy I was to hear from you. I have recently been through an experience that no person should have to endure and am living in a place which offers only scraps of hope and comfort, but now that I know you exist I have a reason to continue.

If the circumstances were different in my country (which is also yours) then I would prefer you came to live with me there, but if it is really possible that we can meet then I would accept any way of doing that. I once promised myself that I would never return to your country but that was before I knew about you.

I hope your mother is well and that she appreciates how lucky she is to have you. You be a good boy and, god willing, we will soon meet.

 

With love from your Father,

 

Mamadou

 

The letter was signed in distinctly different handwriting to the rest of the letter and Syafika wondered whether Ousman’s father was illiterate. She thought it would be funny if he was.

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12/04/2013

The Inklings: Chapter 40

By Anna

To read the story from the beginning go here.

Emily picked John up on Christmas morning and John was very grateful. John knew his place was out of Emily’s way, plus he had so many presents to carry that he didn’t know how he would have managed if he’d had to take the bus, and John was feeling so scared about seeing all his relatives again that he didn’t want to arrive alone.

John had presents for Emily’s kids on hand when he squeezed into the back of the car to sit between their special booster seats. He’d bought a recorder for the eldest and a drum for the youngest and soon wished they hadn’t opened them in the car. Emily took many deep breaths but managed to stay calm. Her husband Greg wasn’t as strong and after 5 minutes of tooting and banging he fiercely told his kids to stop unless they wanted to get out and walk.

John couldn’t help feeling pleased with himself when he arrived at the Christmas party not only with presents for all but able to recognize everyone, even children he’d never met. This was thanks to Emily having used her photo album to show him what everyone looked like.

But then John’s brother Tim arrived. That was a surprise for everyone because Tim had been living overseas and hadn’t told anyone he’d be back for Christmas.

As John watched his relatives give his brother Tim a warm welcome he couldn’t help feeling jealous. Tim had brought everyone electronic gadgets as gifts that were made in his factory – the factory he had started in order to make the electronics he invented.

“That could have been me if I hadn’t stuffed up” thought John because he knew he’d once been just as smart as Tim.

Tim looked so happy, healthy and young for his age, while John had aged prematurely. One Aunt unkindly remarked that anyone would think that John was Tim’s father.

John was very glad that Fanta hadn’t been able to come with him. He imagined that Fanta would prefer Tim to him. All Emily had said about Tim was that he was a workaholic and single. “At least Tim doesn’t have any kids” thought John. “That would make me really jealous”.

Eventually Tim noticed John and came over.

“Hey!” exclaimed Tim when he realized who John was. Tim gave John a hug and John wondered what his parents had told Tim about him. Did Tim know he’d turned over a new leaf?

Perhaps John was just imagining it, but he felt that Tim was treating him with pity and John resented that. They’d once been equals, and good friends.

“It’s so good to see you!” said Tim. “I didn’t expect it. You look really well. How have you been?”

John didn’t open up and talk to Tim the way he would have liked to. He just gave brief answers to Tim’s questions and didn’t ask any in return. It wasn’t long before the very popular Tim was dragged off by one of their uncles to talk about the latest technologies. John sat down on the stone fence of the backyard and watched his relatives enjoying their Christmas like he wasn’t one of them.

“As if I could just buy my way back into the family with clever Christmas presents” thought John and he wished Tim had invented a remote control that would let John fast-forward the rest of the day.

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