I'm calling this shot, "The Architecture of Despair". I'm not kidding. I'm feeling really horrible about this. I have been trying for the last 16 hours to get this tire onto this rim. Seriously. 16 hours. And I'm really afraid that I'm ruining the tire, for all my efforts.
There are a couple things I think I might learn from this experience. I mean, whenever I end up in a situation like this I try to comfort myself with the idea that it must be a life lesson. And these are my ideas about this one.
First, I might not be a person who can do this tire on this rim. If I believe this, then it would be a huge shift in the way I look at the world. I've always felt that anyone can do anything. I've thought that people are born with specific talents and capabilities, but that if someone put in the time and effort, that they can do what anyone else can do. I mean, I think some things aren't worth the effort of becoming, and as a kind of verbal shorthand we can say that is something we can't do.
For example, it is extremely unlikely that I would ever run faster than Usain Bolt. He's been born with talents and capabilities that I haven't. Theoretically, in my mind, I could do it. But since it is so ridiculously unlikely, I might as well just say I can't. And I've chosen that limitation, so I have to be held responsible for it. That's a huge thing to me. We're always responsible for the limitations we choose. I usually feel like it is a sin to choose a limitation, and that the chooser must be held responsible. Fortunately, I'm quite happy to be held responsible for not working to become faster than Usain Bolt. The only consequence I must suffer for choosing that limitation is that I run slower than some other guy that probably works really hard, but is also just naturally a lot better runner than I am. I don't care about running anyway. I don't feel compelled to run faster than anyone else, (or to run at all, if I'm honest), so it is a penance I can happily bear.
However, I've found this idea largely to be true in my life. I mean, everything I've set out to do I've either come to the point of frustration where I realize that the thing isn't worth the effort it would take to do, or I've accomplished it.
But what if that isn't true? What if there are things that some people can do that other people actually can't do? At all. Ever. I find the idea really disturbing. I know people are created differently, but want to believe they're basically equal. If there are people who can't do some things that others can then they're not equal. Maybe I'm overblowing the distinction. But it bothers me.
I guess I should like it as much as I dislike it. It would mean potentially that some of my attributes are uniquely valuable. But I think I've liked the idea of being no one for the last ten years. At least I've taken advantage of it. If I'm no one, I don't need to feel guilty about failing to distinguish myself. That was my primary motivation in life when I was in high school. But when it became obvious afterward that I was very unlikely to distinguish myself in any way, it became comforting to think that I wasn't anyone, but no one else was either.
Anyway, the second point was a little more positive, and it was a correlative. It's that maybe some things you can do for yourself are worth paying someone else to do. I've also kind of come to the point of feeling like that is sinful too. I tend to feel like if you can do for yourself, and you let someone else do it you are taking advantage of them. Which is wrong. And if you can do for yourself, but pay someone else to do it, you're lazy. Which is wrong.
But I've wasted two days on this that I can't really afford to waste, and I might be ruining the tire. Maybe it really is worth paying someone else to do it. Even if I can do it for myself.
Probably it's all irrelevant. I'd better get back to it.
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1 comment:
It is not sinful, and is in fact sensible, to pay someone with more experience and better tools to do some things.
You would not, I hope, give a shot at surgery on yourself.
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