Time and again I realize that I am a mere beginner when it comes to understanding the way I act. In the ideal case, a human being is composed of several layers and knows this too.
Here are some definitions from the Oxford dictionary:
ASPIRE: verb
To direct one's hopes or ambitions towards achieving something
STRIVE: verb
To make great efforts to achieve or obtain something
From this what do I conclude? The difference between aspiring and striving lies in action. Actions can arise from various sources. For me personally when I am aware that an action will lead me to achieve something that I aspire towards, I know that I should perform it. But this means I need to first know what I aspire towards. Then I need to know which actions lead to this goal. All this is on a cognitive level. What about the more subconscious levels that lead to action? For now I will go into the details about when not to take action.
Take for instance the situation of buying a gift for somebody out of obligation. Somebody has called me to their home and I know them slightly but have not really got comfortable with them. However I assume that several benefits are going to ensue from getting comfortable with this person, though I have no clue as to my personal motivation. My mind does not associate any emotional reaction with this person. I am indifferent to this person. Now I hate to say this but such people do exist in my life. Then I decide to buy them their generic impersonal gift. I enter a shop, two hours before I have to go meet them. My attention is focused on what I will wear this evening or on why my friend said that inconsiderate sentence to me yesterday. Or, on another note, it might be focused on how fantastic the question was that I asked in class today morning. In any case the purchase of this present is a mechanical act that has nothing whatsoever to do with things going on in my mind.
At the same time, I want to be the most awesome person around this evening. I want to garner this host's attention and fool them into thinking that I am the visitor who cares most about them. Flattery is essential in order to gain their approval. Therefore my gift has to be something really specific and pertinent to the host's interests. It has to be the perfect "eierlegende Wollmilchsau" as you would put it in German, a creature which provides milk, meat, eggs and wool, all at once. So I start searching for this fantastic thing that has nothing to do with my current thoughts. There it goes. My bowels suddenly develop a life of their own and begin to wriggle inside as if they wanted to emphasize the autonomy of the nervous system governing them. Hey, my dear bowels, sometimes you know more about what I want than my brain does. When this occurs, sometimes I am fortunate enough to realize that I don't give a damn about the person I am visiting, and then I go empty-handed and take a smile instead and sometimes I might actually relax.
So much for not acting. This new bowel strategy has saved many an evening.
Take for instance the situation of buying a gift for somebody out of obligation. Somebody has called me to their home and I know them slightly but have not really got comfortable with them. However I assume that several benefits are going to ensue from getting comfortable with this person, though I have no clue as to my personal motivation. My mind does not associate any emotional reaction with this person. I am indifferent to this person. Now I hate to say this but such people do exist in my life. Then I decide to buy them their generic impersonal gift. I enter a shop, two hours before I have to go meet them. My attention is focused on what I will wear this evening or on why my friend said that inconsiderate sentence to me yesterday. Or, on another note, it might be focused on how fantastic the question was that I asked in class today morning. In any case the purchase of this present is a mechanical act that has nothing whatsoever to do with things going on in my mind.
At the same time, I want to be the most awesome person around this evening. I want to garner this host's attention and fool them into thinking that I am the visitor who cares most about them. Flattery is essential in order to gain their approval. Therefore my gift has to be something really specific and pertinent to the host's interests. It has to be the perfect "eierlegende Wollmilchsau" as you would put it in German, a creature which provides milk, meat, eggs and wool, all at once. So I start searching for this fantastic thing that has nothing to do with my current thoughts. There it goes. My bowels suddenly develop a life of their own and begin to wriggle inside as if they wanted to emphasize the autonomy of the nervous system governing them. Hey, my dear bowels, sometimes you know more about what I want than my brain does. When this occurs, sometimes I am fortunate enough to realize that I don't give a damn about the person I am visiting, and then I go empty-handed and take a smile instead and sometimes I might actually relax.
So much for not acting. This new bowel strategy has saved many an evening.
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