A Lesson in Opposing Viewpoints: On Appearances and First Impressions

Don't trust too much in appearances.

Quintillian, Ancient Roman Teacher and Writer (c. 35 - c. 100 C.E.) 

Clothes make the man.

Recorded by Erasmus, Counter-Reformation Writer, and Scholar (1466 - 1536 C.E.) 

N.B. The phrase is found in Multiple Babylonian, Greek, and Latin Sources. Even Polonius in William Shakespeare's Hamlet says it: "The apparel doth oft proclaim the man."

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

Two Ideas About How One Ought To Present Oneself

     Here is a set of dueling philosophies — one based on suspicion of outward appearance — and the other, an appraisal of appearance's worth in civilized society. Which one rings more true?

     I want to trust in the idea that appearances do not tell the entire story of a person. However, I read once that the average person takes X seconds to make a judgment about a person they just met. Do I think you should dress appropriately for a job interview? Yes. But getting the job, keeping it, excelling at it, and growing as a person — will take more than appearances. So maybe the lesson is that you show the world what they want to see and hope they can see who you really are once you get your foot in the door. However, I am tickled by this notion that if we did not judge by appearances — as much — wouldn't the world be a better place. I am thinking of internalized racism — the idea that society is infused with systematic racist beliefs that undermine everyday people's ability to be successful. I had a boss that said, "Dress for success" and "Fake it till you make it," but I think she also told us in a work meeting that she says those things because we live in a world that does judge by appearances. One has to rise up to the occasion — but what about when we meet oppression and resistance to our goals because of our appearance?

The Moral Dilemma of the Two Television News Anchors  

     I think of a dilemma I once read: two television news anchors apply for a competitive job at a cable news station. The job requires facetime on-air every day during primetime television. The first candidate has a degree in media broadcasting, but they have a missing front tooth. The second candidate has a degree in English, but they score well on visual appeal (according to an internal poll). Is there a moral problem in hiring the second candidate based on visual appearance, only? This dilemma bothers me because most people I present this problem to will say, "Hire the candidate with the most experience and the best background for the job" — but I see on social media how people will degrade media personalities for the way they look. There is cognitive dissonance in our society.

Can We Have Our Cake and Eat It Too?

     On the one hand, we want to celebrate ability and prop up a meritorious system based on skill and aptitude — but we are held back by our biases and what we deem "normal." How do we break the cycle? Let me know in the comments. 

Sources: 

• Erasmus, Desiderius, and Barker, William Watson. The Adages of Erasmus. Canada, University of Toronto Press, 2001.
• Stone, Jon R. The Routledge Dictionary of Latin Quotations: The Illiterati's Guide to Latin Maxims, Mottoes, Proverbs, and Sayings. The United Kingdom, Routledge, 2005.

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On Whiskey Bottles, Trail Mix and Walker Percy

In this post, I recount a story of when I found a bottle with a message tucked inside of it.

Shaking Off a Feeling of Emptiness

   Do you ever get this empty feeling you just can’t shake?  It’s like the person who pulls up to their house, sits in their car and lets the engine run when they get home from work, to breathe again, before easily letting go of the ignition, sighing as the car dies.  Not that the person hates his life.  He just needs to breathe.  Again.

This reminds me of Walker Percy, a writer who searched out answers to the odd questions of everyday life – like, “what do I do with myself?” He won the National Book Award for The Moviegoer in 1961, about Binx Bolling, a disconsolate everyman in New Orleans who ostensibly has a good life, a girlfriend, a steady well-paying job, but nevertheless feels this emptiness inside the pit of his gut that he just can’t shake. One day it occurs to Binx to embark on a “search,” to discover what is missing in his life.  

As A Monk I Would Walk in the Woods
The summer of my first year in the monastery, I was twenty-two years old. I was on a search.  I escaped the monastic schedule to hike with a fellow monk who had joined the community at the same time as me. Our plan was to climb the fence along the cemetery to reach a tiny creek, full of white sand, like an ocean's front, that meanders to the Bogue Falaya River. I think we did this once or twice: took off our shoes and socks and donned a bathing suit, crinkling our toes gingerly over rough patches of pine needles and dried up Water Oak leaves until we reached the banks of the creek. A soda for each and a bag of trail mix from the house – one for each – drank 'em and nibbled on fleshy banana bits and salted cashews on the banks, on a Sunday afternoon, when the everydayness gets heavy. We knocked back a few dried apricots into your mouth; take a swig of Orangina, to reduce the despair of the early twenty-first century. The water was cool, even in the summer, and the sand was supple, sinking a few feet past our ankles, making it difficult to walk, careful to avoid the odd shard of glass or roping water snake that patrols the shallow waters. When the bag of trail mix emptied and the sodas had gurgled in our bellies, we hurried back to the monastery to attend evening prayer. To enter back into the rhythm of monastic life. On days like this, as a friend of mine told me once, you feel on par with existence.
Walker Percy's Empty Bottle 
Coming out of the woods, I spotted an empty bottle next to Walker Percy’s grave. He is buried in our cemetery. Usually, there is a flowerpot on the edge of his grave: WALKER PERCY 1916 - 1990. So not to see the usual flowerpot, but an empty bottle struck me as peculiar. At first, I thought that it could have been leftover by rowdy teenagers from the neighborhood, but on closer inspection, I saw that it was an Early Times whiskey bottle, Percy’s favorite brand; an admirer had left behind a note stuffed inside. This intrigued me. 

Why would someone come to a Benedictine monastery to leave behind “a message in a bottle”?  What search were they on?  Did they find themselves at a difficult time in life, seeking answers? Or was it an inside joke, a jocund sentiment left for a friend? Or a prayer left unanswered? Coming out of the river and finding someone else’s message situated me at a crossroads, a place of tension where the monk meets the world – a place where my disconsolation and anxiety struggled with a sense of place and meaning – for I was very much not at ease all the time, in my skin, in my monastic habit, in this place I called home – and the questioning of another seeker confirmed for me that we are both searchers on this planet, seeking and groping for answers.  For aren’t we all searchers? Aren’t we all castaways on an island? For Percy, “to be a castaway is to search for news from across the seas.”

The Self as a Castaway
I think this is the self in any generation: a castaway on an island, searching for news from across the seas, salt in his face and hair, thirsty and desirous. But at every juncture, we are not at ease in our skin, with our station in life. We do not know how to sift through the avalanche of information that bombards us, not knowing the difference between the Good News and the Daily News. Coming out of the woods is a messy business. We emerge as castaways, hoping to decipher a message in a bottle.

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Opinion Poll: Do Saint Thérèse of Lisieux and Virginia Woolf Look Alike?

For all you Virginia Woolf fans out there, here is a nice picture of her in youth. And then there is a photograph of Thérèse of Lisieux, the Catholic Carmelite saint. Am I the only person who thinks Woolf has an uncanny resemblance to Saint Thérèse of Lisieux?

Photograph of Virginia Woolf as a Child

Thérèse of Lisieux dressed up as Joan of Arc

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Text Book: How to Text to Your Blog

I am Texting This Post to My Blog, Y'all!

"London Calling"

I just started this texting your blog thing. I thought it would be fun to text my thoughts on Blogger and Facebook. I read that in Japan "text books" are a big deal. A woman started texting from her cell phone these so-called text novels. Whenever she was waiting or taking the subway she would text the next plot point. Started out free but now the trend has caught on and people are texting like crazy. 

Where Am I When I Texted this Post: I am at Heavenly Ham with my mom!

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