My 2012 "This I believe" essay
My neighbors in my cohousing community have a great tradition in which those who are moved to do so write essays on "this I believe" (an American public radio feature) and we read them to each other on NY day. I thought I'd post mine this year.
I believe, much to my surprise, in the Serenity prayer:
Grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.
When I was a child I often saw this prayer, on signs, in catalogs, on greeting cards, and most memorably in an embroidered version in the guest room of my grandmother’s house. It was always part of the cultural background of the early 70s, along with happy faces, brightly colored flowers and mushrooms, and the overuse of the words “creative” and “natural”. As a child I would repeat the poem to myself -- probably because I loved the word serenity -- but the poem itself had little meaning.
In the past year or so I find it comes to mind often, and for me interestingly it isn’t the first two lines I have trouble with: right now I can accept the things I cannot change, and when I am sure things need to change I do have the courage to change them. Most of these things are not major challenges right now in life -- my life has been steady for a number of years, and there are few huge life challenges I have had to face. Things just roll along week by week, in a bit of a rut, mostly making up a happy life with just a few periodic frustrations. I am fortunate.
The part of the poem that comes to mind so often is the last line: the Wisdom to know the difference. I often wonder if I should try to make a change in something, or if I should let things stay as they are. Should I be trying to get more research projects finished at work? Should I adapt some time management system, like blocking out two hours a day to write (I did try that for 2 weeks and it was sometimes excruciating)? Should I be adopting a new diet, or additional exercise routines beyond my current yoga practice? Should I be doing more for my family -- helping my stepson on getting a job, working on a craft project with my daughter, scheduling more play dates with my son?
There was a time in my life that the answer would have always been yes, of course I should try to do more. As a child I always had goals. I made a schedule for myself one year at the beginning of the summer in which I planned out everything I was going to do, hour by hour, including practicing clarinet, studying Latin, exercising, and other goals. I wasn’t very good at implementing this schedule, but it was my goal. In high school and junior high I took every advanced class offered at my school, several of them a year or two ahead of time. I started attending UCLA part time in 11th grade, and took 8 units a quarter, which I later learned was a half time schedule. If I had stayed after I graduated high school I could have graduated in just 2 years. But, I was ambitious, and it was off to Harvard I went.
In some ways it was exhilarating. My high school college counselor wrote in his admissions letter for me that of all the students my year I was the most “intensely intellectual” I loved that praise.
However, it also had a dark side. I was not kind to myself. I had trouble working at night because I was so exhausted after hours of school and extracurriculars, and would force myself to get up at 5 AM to do homework. My inner monolog when I wasn’t living up to my own expectations could be harsh. I also started to have bouts of depression, starting in spring of my senior year in high school, and continuing in college.
I took two years off between undergrad and grad school and decided when I started grad school that I couldn’t be as hard on myself. I deliberately stopped caring about grades. I refused to get by on limited amounts of sleep.
Now that I am in my mid-40s, a lot of the negative emotions have calmed down, and in some ways I feel like I could do more. I could focus better at work, be more effective, get more research done, be more likely to get future grants, etc. I know that I do not use my time effectively. I spend a lot of time on relaxation reading. I often take long mornings working leisurely from home, or come home in the mid-afternoon. But I am back to the serenity prayer -- is this something I can change, or should change, or should I accept where I am right now?
A quick trip to wikipedia earlier today found that it originated with the theologian Reinhold Neibuhr and is common in AA and other 12 step programs, though I was unaware of those sources. Amusingly, wikipedia quotes an earlier version from a 1695 Mother Goose rhyme. This one skips the whole wisdom section, and maybe that is what I personally need.
For every ailment under the sun
There is a remedy, or there is none;
If there be one, try to find it;
If there be none, never mind it.
I believe, much to my surprise, in the Serenity prayer:
Grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.
When I was a child I often saw this prayer, on signs, in catalogs, on greeting cards, and most memorably in an embroidered version in the guest room of my grandmother’s house. It was always part of the cultural background of the early 70s, along with happy faces, brightly colored flowers and mushrooms, and the overuse of the words “creative” and “natural”. As a child I would repeat the poem to myself -- probably because I loved the word serenity -- but the poem itself had little meaning.
In the past year or so I find it comes to mind often, and for me interestingly it isn’t the first two lines I have trouble with: right now I can accept the things I cannot change, and when I am sure things need to change I do have the courage to change them. Most of these things are not major challenges right now in life -- my life has been steady for a number of years, and there are few huge life challenges I have had to face. Things just roll along week by week, in a bit of a rut, mostly making up a happy life with just a few periodic frustrations. I am fortunate.
The part of the poem that comes to mind so often is the last line: the Wisdom to know the difference. I often wonder if I should try to make a change in something, or if I should let things stay as they are. Should I be trying to get more research projects finished at work? Should I adapt some time management system, like blocking out two hours a day to write (I did try that for 2 weeks and it was sometimes excruciating)? Should I be adopting a new diet, or additional exercise routines beyond my current yoga practice? Should I be doing more for my family -- helping my stepson on getting a job, working on a craft project with my daughter, scheduling more play dates with my son?
There was a time in my life that the answer would have always been yes, of course I should try to do more. As a child I always had goals. I made a schedule for myself one year at the beginning of the summer in which I planned out everything I was going to do, hour by hour, including practicing clarinet, studying Latin, exercising, and other goals. I wasn’t very good at implementing this schedule, but it was my goal. In high school and junior high I took every advanced class offered at my school, several of them a year or two ahead of time. I started attending UCLA part time in 11th grade, and took 8 units a quarter, which I later learned was a half time schedule. If I had stayed after I graduated high school I could have graduated in just 2 years. But, I was ambitious, and it was off to Harvard I went.
In some ways it was exhilarating. My high school college counselor wrote in his admissions letter for me that of all the students my year I was the most “intensely intellectual” I loved that praise.
However, it also had a dark side. I was not kind to myself. I had trouble working at night because I was so exhausted after hours of school and extracurriculars, and would force myself to get up at 5 AM to do homework. My inner monolog when I wasn’t living up to my own expectations could be harsh. I also started to have bouts of depression, starting in spring of my senior year in high school, and continuing in college.
I took two years off between undergrad and grad school and decided when I started grad school that I couldn’t be as hard on myself. I deliberately stopped caring about grades. I refused to get by on limited amounts of sleep.
Now that I am in my mid-40s, a lot of the negative emotions have calmed down, and in some ways I feel like I could do more. I could focus better at work, be more effective, get more research done, be more likely to get future grants, etc. I know that I do not use my time effectively. I spend a lot of time on relaxation reading. I often take long mornings working leisurely from home, or come home in the mid-afternoon. But I am back to the serenity prayer -- is this something I can change, or should change, or should I accept where I am right now?
A quick trip to wikipedia earlier today found that it originated with the theologian Reinhold Neibuhr and is common in AA and other 12 step programs, though I was unaware of those sources. Amusingly, wikipedia quotes an earlier version from a 1695 Mother Goose rhyme. This one skips the whole wisdom section, and maybe that is what I personally need.
For every ailment under the sun
There is a remedy, or there is none;
If there be one, try to find it;
If there be none, never mind it.