I was given an assignment by my therapist to write down some of my core values. Being, at heart, a diligent student, I have worked hard on the task, and have come to the conclusion that it was a very smart and sneaky assignment. The process of thinking through these things has really helped me readjust my outlook and let go of the awful "dog" of depression that so plagued me at the end of the summer.
In the process I've discovered that I'm a moderate....my writing sounds like the "This above all, to thine own self be true" speech of Polonius in "Hamlet". I kept coming up with words that were little fulcrum spots between extremes. Words like "tidy", rather than clean vs. messy. "Thrifty", rather than cheap vs. spendthrift. Maybe moderation and balance are qualities that become more appealing with age? I used to be so hard on myself, with so little tolerance for anything less than perfection. I still have no use for fools, misspellings, pomposity, bad pitch, people who wear medical scrubs in public, ads for prescription drugs, nonsensical rules, the editorial content of the Wall St. Journal, invasive thorny vines, most popular music, middle management, telephone trees ("press 1 to report a problem"), over-familiarity, and too many other pet peeves to detail here.
But I have a weakness for anyone who sings when they work; those who are kind to old people; anything that makes me stop and take notice (like the display of pomegranates in the grocery the other day); attention to detail in otherwise unimportant things. I like punctuality. I'm a big fan of courage, especially when paired with a smidge of braggodocio, as when John Hancock signed his name to the Declaration of Independence so large that the King could see it without his glasses. Make me laugh and I'm yours forever. A good argument is a wonderful thing--but the emphasis here is on "good", where points are argued with vehemence and conviction, from a place of knowledge and passion, and never descends into the personal.
People have often asked Arturo, "How did you decide to be a musician?", and his response is always, "I didn't decide. It picked me." I am a total, drop-dead fan of people who fall into that category in any pursuit, and have nothing but pity for those who just muddle along. I am acutely aware that as an educated, healthy, white, upper-middle-class American, I am disproportionately blessed with advantages, but I surely have seen many similarly blessed who squander their assets. Give me passion above all!! Otherwise, why bother living?
In the process I've discovered that I'm a moderate....my writing sounds like the "This above all, to thine own self be true" speech of Polonius in "Hamlet". I kept coming up with words that were little fulcrum spots between extremes. Words like "tidy", rather than clean vs. messy. "Thrifty", rather than cheap vs. spendthrift. Maybe moderation and balance are qualities that become more appealing with age? I used to be so hard on myself, with so little tolerance for anything less than perfection. I still have no use for fools, misspellings, pomposity, bad pitch, people who wear medical scrubs in public, ads for prescription drugs, nonsensical rules, the editorial content of the Wall St. Journal, invasive thorny vines, most popular music, middle management, telephone trees ("press 1 to report a problem"), over-familiarity, and too many other pet peeves to detail here.
But I have a weakness for anyone who sings when they work; those who are kind to old people; anything that makes me stop and take notice (like the display of pomegranates in the grocery the other day); attention to detail in otherwise unimportant things. I like punctuality. I'm a big fan of courage, especially when paired with a smidge of braggodocio, as when John Hancock signed his name to the Declaration of Independence so large that the King could see it without his glasses. Make me laugh and I'm yours forever. A good argument is a wonderful thing--but the emphasis here is on "good", where points are argued with vehemence and conviction, from a place of knowledge and passion, and never descends into the personal.
People have often asked Arturo, "How did you decide to be a musician?", and his response is always, "I didn't decide. It picked me." I am a total, drop-dead fan of people who fall into that category in any pursuit, and have nothing but pity for those who just muddle along. I am acutely aware that as an educated, healthy, white, upper-middle-class American, I am disproportionately blessed with advantages, but I surely have seen many similarly blessed who squander their assets. Give me passion above all!! Otherwise, why bother living?
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