This illness has also cleared my head about a lot of things. My priorities haven't changed much, but I don't want the excess, the burden, the fat anymore. No more polite small talk, no more fuss, no more worrying about nothing, no more acting like the guy who's always there to help, no more putting up with people I don't wanna see. I realize that this makes me seem a bit bearish, and I have indeed tended to see fewer people and go out less, but fatigue and my semi-broken car also have something to do with it. In short, I was never the kind of guy you would spontaneously talk to in a random setting, and now... it's only gotten worse.
WTF?
It also shed light on what I had and hadn't achieved so far, the pros and cons, the not-so-big deals, and made me want to write a few “self-centered” pieces. Mind you, I'm not pretending to be someone else, I'm not an author, not even a hack writer, but I understood and felt what writing about yourself can bring to the writer: you lay everything out on the table and, as my friend Martine would say, you reread it and discover yourself. It's interesting. For me, anyway...
It also helped me to see things differently. I have always accepted myself, with my strengths, weaknesses, and very weak points. I have always tried to seize opportunities when they arise, and this has often worked out well for me, but underneath it all, I have always been vaguely haunted by the infamous imposter syndrome, somewhere in the back of my mind. Why me? Can't they see that... this, or that? On a flip side, over the years and through my experiences in very different environments, I've realized that the expectations of those I'm talking to, the people watching me, or listening to me, aren't the same or are lower than my own expectations for myself. I know that what I consider to be “I did my best with what I had” often exceeds the expectations of those around me. As a result, I have never really suffered from the syndrome, but it can cross my mind fleetingly at any time. Now I accept it too: that's how I am, that's me. I could have been different, no doubt, but that's not how it turned out. I'm not one of those people who has a plan, who forces fate. No, I'm more the type to sit by the river for a long time and watch... what passes by. Until something tempts me, then I go for it. In my personal approach, I believe much more in positioning myself well, in being at a crossroads, at the crossroads of flows, in observing currents and in the joyful drift of good company, than in forced marching: “Full steam ahead and let's reach this goal whatever the cost.” March or die isn't my thing, I don't like either.
To sum up, I am both less critical and less gullible. Less critical of others and myself, less gullible because the falseness, the glitz, the superficiality that I could sense in a situation, an attitude, a speech, without being able to put my finger on anything tangible, now immediately jump out at me. I can discern more quickly and more acutely what is wrong with a person, a scenario, a project, or an organization. This inevitably reveals the ocean of emptiness, mannerisms, superfluity, stupidity, and ego trips that were being swept under the rug. It makes your head spin, but it also allows you to stay away from it.
I'm 62 years old and still don't have a Rolex. So what? Dumbass!
