Very few people make decisions on pure principal. Even if they know something is right, or wrong, they say things like "well, I pick and choose my battles" or "I've got to do the sensible thing."
There's something to that, sure. But I rarely hear people say, "I'm scared and just back down from doing what I really feel I should do because of fear."
I never hear that, ever, but surely some people are stepping back out of fear. They comfort themselves by saying that they're reasonable people who pick and choose.
Maybe that's true. It's worth double-checking yourself when you start saying stuff like that though - could it possibly, maybe, just be fear?
I don't really have principles so I don't see any problem with not fighting battles. I can't remember the last time I actually believed I was right and the other guy was wrong and I had to "fight" in any way.
I can't say many of us would have handled this the same as Sebastian, but is your tone really necessary Anthony or are you just projecting some inferiority complex issues here?
You know what is stupid though? Defining every one of your personal issues as a moral fight, requiring a fearless white knight such as yourself to take a stance and save the world, while really you are just annoyed that something didn't work out the way you wanted it to work out. Maybe what you fear is realizing that you are human too, all things considered, and that you have to choose your own battles as well.
I think most of us follow a utilitarian approach. We put all the pros and cons on the scale and if a course of action has more pros than cons then we follow it. Fear may have something to do with it, but most of the time it's a strictly pragmatic thing. For example, take your recent feud with Cathay: most people would see the futility of the situation, file the complain, move to coach and later, if they can prove that they were right, get an upgrade for a future flight or some other concession from the airline. Some people are more interested in seeng their kids after a long trip than risking being retained or stranded indefinitely in a foreign place, orveven go to jail just to make a point. It's one of those low upside huge downside things that you talk about in your book. Strictly utilitarian: more cons than pros, so no go. I also believe in picking battles: for example, coming back to your particular situation, you have a big thing going on with the publishing company, and now this. How many dragons can you realistically fight at the same time?
OK, enough with the unsolicited advice. Take care dude, and keep putting out great stuff. The strategic tips and actionable advice in your blog and book are gold and have already made a big difference in my productivity and focus, as I'm sure they've done for many others.
It is the old flight or fight decision. Fear is your lizard brain saying that the smart min max strategy could be withdrawal. Don't underestimate the wisdom that "he who runs away, lives to fight another day" aka "pick your battles"
It's you that is the fool not CX.
CX should ban you from all their future flights. Such idiotic nonsense crap cannot be tolerated. Go and experiment this type of crap back in USA. You make zero sense. Leave the case as you will be a laughing stock. You already are on the Pilots Network site where you thought they would rally behind you but sorry to say that they think you are an absolute idiot.
I have a suggestion for you. Go dig a hole in the sand and bury your ugly face inside the hole and never come out. Your fucking dickhead.
The majority of "evil" -- or just nastiness -- I think is less due to malice, hate, or cruelty.
I think the majority of bad things people do happen because they're (1) afraid, and (2) they take the expedient course.
Fear is a mess, of course. Scared people do all kinds of idiot moves.
(Which isn't to say that fear is irrational. Maybe the fear is justified. But scared people do stupid and crazy things.)
But fear... fear is probably okay, even. If you work through it. If you understand it. If you take time and work at it.
I mentioned in yesterday's post that I've been on my own since I was 16, without saying very much about the circumstances. I don't plan to discuss much about the circumstances here, or possibly at all, other than to say that part of those circumstances not only caused my untimely emancipation but also a not so healthy case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
For the first few years after my escape, PTSD manifested itself primarily through avoidance, though possibly also through disruptive, destructive behavior, though I can't be sure that wasn't just part of my personality. But then, who really knows what was a natural part of my persona and what was PTSD or if they can even be separated. Maybe there's no manifestation of PTSD, but simply the way I've processed a rather horrific period of my life which happened to take place during the prime developmental time of adolescence, a way of being wired to survive that now needs to short circuit.
I said it originally manifested through avoidance , which basically meant I avoided everything that could have reminded me of my life before say, the age of 16. I stayed away from friends and family, I drank to excess every chance I got, and at first, dabbled in quite a few drugs, though I did pick and choose in that area and wouldn't allow myself to get into the really creepy ones...except LSD. I kind of liked that a lot. Not for the hallucinations but for the wildness and hilarity that usually ensued. I usually laughed a lot and I really needed laughter. I really needed anything that could help me forget what had happened and what was happening as I struggled to survive without support...except for from friends. I was fortunate to have supportive friends that tried their best to help me in whatever way they could, but hey, they were kids, too. None of us knew what was going on or what to do about it. My friends tried to help me keep a roof over my head I couch surfed from house to house for years, rarely staying anywhere for long and often never knowing where i'd sleep the next week. My friends gave me rides to whereever I needed to go, sometimes just handing me the keys to their cars. It was thanks to them that I made it through High School at all. Whoa. I didn't mean to go into all that, it's just hard to figure out, well, like painting a picture, it's hard to figure out how much paint different parts of the picture actually need. How much background info does this entry need to convey the place? I think that probably gives the lay person enough to get the idea.
Sounds like scary times, huh? You'd think so, and I admit that there were a few times that I was nearly paralyzed with fear, but for the most part? Well, I kind of remember having a whole lot of fun in all honesty. Thanks to other mental defense mechanisms like denial and disassociation, it was pretty easy to immerse myself in the present and my present seemed to be surrounded by fun, interesting people for the most part and like a leaf in a stream I went with the flow and either was extremely lucky or extremely well-looked after by God. I managed to survive that period without taking anything too far...just barely. Many girls in a similar situation think they have just one option, one tool: use their bodies to survive. I didn't have to do that. It was actually very important to me that I didn't.
Again, I digress, but that's what you get with stream of consciousness writing. I was actually planning to talk about some new developments with the PTSD. So I never really did get that taken care of. I went to therapy a few times, knowing that I must have this ticking time bomb of neuroses just waiting to drive me crazy, but for the most part, I was able to pull off a pretty spectacular life, eventually putting myself through college, finding a job that I loved, then a man that I truly loved and now I'm all snug and secure in my sweet little life where I get to still be who I am and still loved. Cue PTSD. We recently moved from a little mountain hamlet where I'd been blessed to have my car break down at the tail end of adolescence, and where I was able to lick my wounds, heal and do all of the cool stuff I just mentioned above. And something happened.