Being what I want to see
I saw Austin Kleon's Be the weird you wish to see prints recently. And I'm writing the next part of my actual aunting experience which is very much about modelling behaviours. It also kind of ties into my average post. Indeed my first post on this blog was about how I wanted to make little and weird things.
What puts me off saying 'weird' explicitly here is I don't want to be all "I'm so mad, me. What am I like." I have a horror of drawing attention upon myself and any sort of performativity. 'Weird' feels like a big label to give yourself and probably the sort of label you can't give yourself (I have a whole theory on these.) I think the crucial difference here is an overdone buzzword: authenticity.
We all seem to agree the pendulum has tipped too far to the irony, apathy, and detachment side. We are ready for enthusiasm and earnestness to come back in style. We are rejecting cringe. It is not easy. We are not in a survival of the weirdest world. The ridiculous are not inheriting the earth.
My aesthetic blazes no trails - I dress like a generic The Sims character. Grey jeans, black t-shirt, and I say that with confidence because it's all I own. There are many entirely correct calls for people to dress with more personality, colour, and panache. I am not able to do that. My contribution is that I'm going grey and not dyeing it and have a pretty violent skin condition I don't cover with makeup.
So, conversationally. A lot of people are pushing back on defaulting to asking others about work. The reliance on "What do you do?" and "How's work?" as the standard conversational openers. "What do you do?" of course isn't technically about work at all and is easy to pivot. I've brushed off "How's work?" with "Well, I'm at a party right now." I practice having a real, interesting answer about other things I'm doing, or something exciting from my weekend, or that I'm looking forward to.
I always push the "How are you?" a little. Most excellent. Fantastic. Full of the joys of spring (from January, no matter the weather). I have been told this is refreshing. I do worry - because I worry about most things - it could feel a bit like rubbing it in people's faces. I interact a lot with people who are having very bad days - that's why they are there seeing me.
Then again, would you rather have someone who is feeling fantastic help you with your bad stuff or someone who is sighing "Oh, well, can't complain"? I like to think it conveys a can-do attitude that is hopefully reassuring. I've had no complaints.
My dad used to say stuff to his students like "Aren't we all so excited to be here on this wonderful Monday morning! A whole week of learning ahead of us!" and I'm sure they hated it but also I think it probably rubbed off on them too.
On the other side of the conversation, I will allow I'm a pretty good listener. I did three years of training basically on being a good listener, so I should hope so. I'm trying really hard to get better at asking people questions. But my wife said I'm good at asking people questions. So who knows.
If someone is willing to open up a goldmine about their hobbies or pastimes I am going to be very enthusiastic about it. At the community hub where I volunteer I'm trying to organise a hobby show and tell for people to show off their crafts or whatever.
My wife and her best friend are an inspiration to me because they have no concept of 'too much'. If they think something will make the other laugh they'll do it. They don't worry about it. I take people up on things like if they idly say "I should get that on a t-shirt" - I'll mock up a t-shirt. I get their quotes printed on mugs for their birthdays. Trying not to worry about it being 'too much'. Like the "how are you?" wouldn't I rather be known as someone who does too much than the bare minimum?
It's another overdone buzzword but I do like prepending 'radical' to things. Reminds me to really make an effort. Radical listening. Radical earnestness. Radical amateurism. [writing a book]. The 'radical' label makes it defiant and, frankly, being bad at something or caring 'too much' is kind of defiant. I'm trying.