Month: December 2020

In my last post, I wrote about feeling under appreciated, which ended with a statement about intrinsic value. In this post, I’d like to elaborate more about that.

To begin with, let’s define what intrinsic value is. Intrinsic value is something that is of a value in it of itself. To put it more simply, a thing has value independent of external worth (money, accolades, approval, etc.).

For example, a work of art or a song has intrinsic value despite its monetary worth because of the meaning and value it has for us. In this sense, doesn’t everything have an intrinsic value? Yes, in the subjective sense. If we go to a museum, certain paintings have more value to us than other ones. Also, certain types of art, such as modern or classical, having more value to us, broadly speaking. And this goes for products at stores, and types of colors, etc. All the nuances that go with intrinsic value depends on our preferences–what we assign value to.

But in the context of my last post, I was speaking of intrinsic value in terms of pursuits–which occupations, jobs, or hobbies we value compared to ones we don’t. And this leads into intrinsic and extrinsic motivation, which is a huge topic in it of itself. Intrinsic motivation means we pursue what we is meaningful to us, and extrinsic motivation means we pursue something for materialistic reasons.

To pursue something for its intrinsic value, we’re essentially pursuing our happiness–the love of the work itself. The extrinsic value could be practical–to have money, to acquire things we need for our daily lives (food, clothing, etc.). Both are important, of course. But the intrinsic value is where inspiration, creativity, and the passion for work lie.

One thing we’ve all experienced is feeling under appreciated. It applies in a social context such as work, family, and friends. When we feel under appreciated, it feels like the work and time we put into something is brushed off, ignored, or if it goes unnoticed. And if we take it personally (which is hard not to take it as), it’s as if our value as a person is diminished.

Why are we even helping or trying? we might ask. It’s the reason we separate work from our personal lives. It’s why we choose friends that appreciate us instead of the ones that don’t. It’s why we organize the lives the way we do, keep the company we do.

This feeling of “under appreciated” makes us acutely aware that our value doesn’t come from the people around us, because they may or may not appreciate us from day to day, or month to month. Instead, it comes from us pursuing what is a value to us–since it is why we pursued it in the first place. Whether that is writing a book, creating a painting, composing music, or building a bird house, intrinsic value cannot be taken away from us.

For all the books I’ve read and all the hours I’v put into reading them, I’ve retained such a small fraction of knowledge in comparison that it seems almost forgettable. Rather, the greater part of knowledge comes from first hand experience, practice and self-reflection. It’s as if reading merely exposed me to knowledge, but it was my use of the knowledge that determined if it stayed with me or not.

Whenever I read something for the sake of knowledge, that information stays in my mind for a short period of time. All the facts and dates I try to remember are useless unless I need to recite them or discuss them with someone.

The knowledge I’ve gathered from books, whether they are about history or science, are fuzzy and unclear. I remember bits and pieces, though the details have slipped away from my memory. I don’t remember any specifics with regard to where historical figures lived, nor what their family lineage was. None of it seemed important enough to remember.

I can recall which novels I’ve read, but not all of the characters in the books or what the plot points were. It’s as if that knowledge were pushed out for the next book, making room for it. The most I remember was the affect or influence it had on me.

As I look back at all of the books I’ve read, I’m acutely aware that I didn’t need to remember everything I read. No one is giving me a test on the books, let a lone asking me what I had read. It was all for me–for my experience to grow and to expose me to different ideas.

When I read a non-fiction book, I’m more interested in the ideas than of the all the facts in them. When I read a fiction book, I read it more for the pleasure of skillful writing, as well as the power of the narrative. Retaining every speck of detail isn’t really important. It’s what I took away from them that counts the most.

It seems that newspapers have become obsolete given how fast the news is being updated and how much news is out there. The news can be accessed on a cellphone, a laptop–on almost any electronic device. They’re not restricted to owning a paper copy. The digital world has made the news instantaneous–daily.

Years ago, I remember going to the bookstore and seeing a shelf full of newspapers from different publications. Now, we needn’t go to any store to read the news. It can be read online for free.

I’m sure some people still enjoy holding a newspaper in their hands and flipping through the folds of pages. When reading from a newspaper, they’re not distracted by ads or clickbait articles. Ads can be passed over with just a flip of the page. They can even circle things on the page, such as headlines, and fill in crossword puzzles if they wanted to.

Perhaps it’s just a matter of preference as to how a person reads the news. Newspapers are printed each day, but like with everything today, paperless communication is becoming more prevalent. And with that being the case, information is free–so long as there is internet access.

To read between the lines is to search for the meaning behind something that’s not apparent on the surface. I find that I read between the lines when something doesn’t make sense, when something sounds like a contradiction or is completely false.

I might pause and then double back to read the passage again. And if I catch something that sounds like a euphemism or sarcasm, I’ll read the book more closely–search for the underlying meaning in the work.

I find that this happens more often than not in non-fiction books rather than in fiction. In fiction, I’m not questioning the validity of the story, rather, judging the story on its own merits. The message of the story is told through the narrative itself, which boils down to the conclusion. Whether I agree with it or not isn’t the point. The point is that the message (or moral) is clear, and so I’m not reading really read between the lines.

But in a non-fiction book, I’m analyzing it more closely because the writer is proving an idea, making the case for an argument. They might list a page full facts to make their case, but does it follow that their conclusion is valid? Or is there a flaw in their premise, and therefore, the conclusion isn’t true?

When we read between the lines, we have to look at the subtleties–the underlying message behind the words. It’s easy to be mislead if we’re not reading closely. Reading between the lines really means knowing what’s going on.

Habits can be positive or negative, depending on how they affect our wellbeing and health. For example, getting up at a regular time is a good habit, but unhealthy foods is not. Habits can take a lot of effort to establish (such as writing on a regular basis), or be easy (watching hours of TV throughout the day).

We define the routines of our lives by our habits. It could be a habit to wake up a certain time of the day, to exercise, or to eat at a certain hour. Living by habits is efficient to keep us on schedule and to keep work patterns consistent. At the same time, bad habits can hold us back, keep us from growing or maturing (i.e. anything that inhibits responsibility).

But what happens when put the habit(s) on hold? What happens we try something that is, perhaps, random or spontaneous? It’s said that it’s good to try something new, such as to try a new foods, or visit/travel to new places. What if we broke the pattern?

Spontaneity, in this sense, can be good, since it broadens our knowledge and experience. Habits can stifle this aspect of our lives if we stick to them too rigidly. If we regularly eat the same food at the same restaurant, why not try something new? Why not step outside of our habits every now and then–outside our comfort zone? Maybe we’ll find something better–something we had no idea existed.

Solitude can be positive in our lives if it helps us be creative and productive, but negative if it’s holding us back from social interaction. In the latter sense, solitude is a state of misery, something that we want to get rid of. Solitude in this sense brings about a feeling of isolation and distance. We are social beings. Therefore, we need to talk and share our ideas with people–collaborate with them and learn from them.

On the other hand, solitude can be beneficial if it fosters creativity, productivity, self-reflection, reading, etc. Thus, solitude is something we need, as well as something we need to set aside. We need it to create, reflect, and imagine, but we also need to set it aside to be in the company of people.

Also, we must learn how to be in solitude–to be present in the moment. When we’re present in the moment, we can concentrate and focus with crystal clarity on our thoughts, feelings, and memories. We can reorganize them, shuffle through them, even make sense of them.

If we’re alone and we tune in to the TV or social media nonstop, we’re not allowing ourselves the opportunity self-reflect or to brainstorm. Spending time in silence can slow down everything, put things into perspective. The noise of the world will quiet down, and we can enjoy being still–even finding peace in that.

Solitude can be a good thing if we need that time to be creative and productive. Solitude is often seen in a negative light, because it implies that someone doesn’t have friends, or that they don’t have anyone to talk to. But in reality, solitude is what is needed to create art, to write, to read, and to work on ideas (unless it is in collaboration with people).

Even at work, some people prefer to work alone so that they can focus and get things done. It’s nothing personal against anyone. It’s how they operate–function. They need it to get into the headspace of ideas, and for novelists, that mental space where stories and characters come to life. If someone is an artist, they need solitude to draw, paint, and to fix or improve the minute details of their work.

Of course, absolute solitude is not ideal. There are times where we need a break, to talk with others, to learn from them or to relax in their company. Solitude is something we need to balance in our lives, something that we need to reflect on our goals, ideas, and projects. We can’t work 24-7, of course. We also need to enjoy life with family and friends as well.