One of the particular memories I had as a child was when my parents asked me to select a doll, one that I didn’t mind missing for a while. They were going to pack it in box for the basement. At the time we lived in an older two-story house. Our basement did not have paneled walls or a linoleum floor. In fact I am not even sure it had a concrete floor as it was not the kind of place where I and my siblings ever went to play. I remember going down there once with my mom and seeing the lone bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
I watched as they packed cans of food and bottles in card board boxes, placing blankets on top along with a few items of clothing and the toy each own of us were willing to spare. It wasn’t until I became an adult that I realized these were “survival” items, packed in preparation for possible nuclear missile strike. Photos from a U-2 spy plane that flew over Cuba had shown evidence of mid-range offensive missiles being transported, and the Cuban missile crisis had begun.
Now, it is laughable to even contemplate engaging in nuclear war and expecting to win. However, at that time the elementary school sported black and yellow signs with three triangles within a circle, indicating a fallout shelter. I was not afraid of atomic bombs. My parents had grown to adulthood during World War 2 when it was considered almost unpatriotic to create fear concerning the United States and war. As a child I don’t recall hearing much discussion of the cold war and nuclear proliferation.
Shortly after that time we entered the spy craze on phase on TV. Shows were a kind of fantasy that portrayed suave, quick witted agents successful battling a diabolically evil organization that never could be completely defeated. I decided a few hours a week of watching fictional spies on TV was not enough excitement, and started checking out books on spies from the local library. Then, I got one that told true stories, the grim, deceitful trading of information for money, unsavory and unreliable sources, and a hefty dose of blackmail. There seemed to be no clear cut heroes.
The “Cold War” seem to fulfill our desire for a common enemies to vilify. But the first world and second world countries did not suffer as much as the third world, underdeveloped ones did. We poured advisers, weapons and often young soldiers into these hot spots were war was anything but cold and civil. In this way the increasing government money poured into military technology kept our economy growing, while contributing the the civil wars that crippled many of the thirst world nations. Of course some of these places became the hot spots that still threaten us today. “Cold War” was a misnomer, even though we were never foolish enough to use the highly destructive nuclear weapons at that time.
The cream of the crop students sat in an International Baccalaureate high school history class. They listened attentively to a teacher who had come back from retirement just to teach such a group. Strolling back and forth in front of a map bedecked white board he inquired loudly. “Does anyone know what happened in the United States between 1963 and ‘68? There were a number of good answers that they could have given for the turbulent times of the civil rights movement and Vietnam war that were so influential in the coming of age for many baby boomers. But in 2013, the students just sat there mute.
In 1966 my parents decided it was time to take a grand tour of the country. For three weeks we traveled west of the Mississippi, camping most of the way, hopping from national park to national park (Thank you Teddy Roosevelt, the parks were and still are an excellent idea.). Halfway through the trip we ended up in San Francisco. Dad wanted to see Golden Gate Bridge, Mom wanted to see Fisherman’s Wharf, and I wanted to ride the cable cars up and down the thrillingly steep streets. My older brother, who had just started to high school, wanted to visit Haight-Ashbury.
As the facilitator circled the table asking the typical questions, such as “Where are you from?” and “What do you do?” I felt like I was being a bit oppositional. If I admitted to being born in Indiana, anyone who had even visited the state would ask me about it, and as my parents moved to another state when I was six weeks old and never returned, I was basically clueless about life in Indiana. So I answered “I’m from nowhere,” and explained my dilemma.
Much of what I’ve perused recently on self-awareness tout the benefit of meditation in increasing self-awareness. This has led to a boom in meditation instructors providing both classes and retreats for mastering the techniques. Search for meditation on the internet and you will find hundreds, perhaps thousands of instructors willing to teach this skill for a fee. Many practitioners insist that you cannot learn to meditate properly without this kind of guidance and support, warning that students will not learn to overcome initial pitfalls and move on to a higher level of awareness.
Recently I was reading research about grammar police, the people who notice every misspelling and usage error in your writing and assume that you are ignorant based on these errors. Evidently they are disagreeable–certifiably disagreeable.
According to the original meaning of self-awareness over 99.9 % of humanity qualify for this trait because people are aware of their existence. So, this is not enough to be considered special. However, self-awareness has a new meaning along with a new claim that it distinguishes leaders from others, according to Daniel Goleman.
Whenever I see “problem solving” listed as a component of emotional intelligence, I tend to regard the rest of what the author says on that subject with skepticism. Typically problem solving is a combination of creativity and logic to generate an innovative idea and put it to practical use. Creativity hardly seems related to emotional intelligence, judging by the character of creative people. In fact researchers have found that one recurring trait of this creative group is a lack of regard for social skills. They tend to be less considerate, more likely to find fault, less agreeable and more rebellious than the average person.
Imagine that you are sitting down to holiday dinner at which a number of friends and family have gathered. The host, Micaela is young, a bit nervous, rushing about trying to please the guests. Timidly she offers a plate of brown patties, with a fine grain in plate of broth. When asked “What is it?” she responds smiling, “Pate foie gras… goose liver paste.” Sandy, sitting across the table momentarily curls up the side of her mouth in an sign of contempt.
Write about what? 