tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780883886833984523.post8705846493521609103..comments2023-04-13T02:09:28.201-07:00Comments on Oh No, Jenny O!: Fair WitnessJenny Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07788776090007720482noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780883886833984523.post-64688246091320101312016-07-05T06:35:54.276-07:002016-07-05T06:35:54.276-07:00(And I'm sure you can't tell that I wrestl...(And I'm sure you can't tell that I wrestle a lot with ambiguity -- in people, in words, etc -- to the point that it's what motivates most of my writing in some way or another. But I still don't know why I had to write a whole blog post at you in the comments... sorry about that. =/ My only defense is that I'm pretty sure I was procrastinating on doing some other writing.)Tim Wolfehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09305853671056709395noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780883886833984523.post-3105795396535934612016-07-05T06:17:45.764-07:002016-07-05T06:17:45.764-07:00<3 Thank god for cat-like people!<3 Thank god for cat-like people!Tim Wolfehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09305853671056709395noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780883886833984523.post-26160778403462615472016-06-30T19:20:23.400-07:002016-06-30T19:20:23.400-07:00We had more talks about it and are totally cool no...We had more talks about it and are totally cool now. It's actually led into more (and more interesting) discussions, and I think they finally, FINALLY believe me when I say that me mentioning to people that I'm "gifted" (in the neurological sense) is not me bragging- it is me legitimately trying to warn to them that my mind is wired a little differently.<br /><br />But yes, people ARE a lot of work. Which is probably why I like cats. And Nathan. Who is people, but a very cat-like people.Jenny Ohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07788776090007720482noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1780883886833984523.post-85359719895137697672016-06-29T09:28:57.897-07:002016-06-29T09:28:57.897-07:00Oof, that sucks. I'm so sorry for you (and for...Oof, that sucks. I'm so sorry for you (and for your friend). I don't think you were self-centered though -- I think this is a good point to be kind to yourself on. It's just that you were each speaking out of different, deeply felt needs. And obviously you're perfectly capable of perceiving what she was looking for; you're just frustrated that people can be so much work. You're... not wrong about that. (Trust me: you're a good person!) =D<br /><br />This was such a thought-provoking reflection on the problem though, that I hope you don't mind if I complicate it a bit further. I do agree that precision absolutely matters -- without it as a guiding principle, the world devolves into subjective mayhem! -- but I think it's a mistake to contrast a literal approach with painting the world in broad, easy strokes. I'd submit that literal-mindedness can itself be one expression of the essentially human desire for things to be simpler; namely (and I think we all have at least a bit of this) for discourse and perception to be idealized and rationalized.<br /><br />The difficulty is, of course, that even the way people see literal <i>things</i> -- even the side of a house or, say, a blue and gold dress -- is highly individual. So when you go all the way to the other end of the spectrum and talk about metaphysical things like good and bad, trying to be literal completely breaks down (it's pretty understandable the question sent the rational part of your brain into a tailspin). Such things are so deeply shaped by our experiences, our self-awareness, our level of exposure to different ideas from our own, etc.<br /><br />The catch I think is that human interaction is as much an emotional experience (as another part of your brain was realizing at the same time) as a rational one. Obviously there's a basically utilitarian side as well, but we are all emotional beings -- even the rational part of you was upset and frustrated with the exchange, with realizing you were effectively speaking different languages. <br /><br />We all want to be understood, and to understand, so it's a pretty reasonable ideal to want language to be completely accurate (ours; theirs) but unfortunately that's not how we actually use. Even with the best intentions our words get loaded and shaded with everything from our own life histories to how our day is going so far -- and of course so are everyone else's, which means interpretation (ours; theirs) is a huge part of the process. (<i>For instance</i>: having been brought up in a fairly sensitive, passive-aggressive family I absolutely love the people in my life who say exactly what they're thinking. That doesn't mean I don't sometimes have knee-jerk responses to them as if they may have meant something else, just because of how I've been conditioned. Even the most precise language can run afoul of such invisible tripwires with which our whole society is laced.)<br /><br />So what I'm saying is neither that precision <i>isn't</i> important, certainly, or that the whole project of human communication is doomed and we should just give up and nuke it from orbit. Obviously a big part of the gap I'm exposing is where empathy comes in -- getting to know people as individuals, recognizing what they mean regardless of what they say, etc. But I think an essential aid to empathy is, while we hold precision in one hand, to hold ambiguity in the other. Ambiguity often gets a bad rap, but it can be a humbling (even scary) concept to grapple with, and I think it is intrinsic to the human experience: there isn't always one right answer; people (ourselves included) are emotionally complex and frequently paradoxical; and all dictionaries aside, the same words can mean a lot of different things.<br /><br />Also, people are a lot of work. So it's essential for all of us to have people to retreat to who speak <i>our</i> language, more or less, and can be relied upon to take the things that come out of our mouths in the most loving possible way. =)Tim Wolfehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09305853671056709395noreply@blogger.com