I feel like I need to write a response to my last post. Like an apology. I am in general strongly against venting negativity, and it shows how bad I'm doing that I not only felt so angry but let it pop out somewhere public. Normally when I'm angry I'll go and tree preach or write in a private journal or something and be done with it.
My general policy is not to put down anybody ever, and I have not been following my own policy recently, and I feel really bad about that. I think my close friends would agree that it's been pretty tame by normal world standards, but it's pretty low for my own. I don't think I need to apologize to anyone who reads this but perhaps just in general to anyone I may have spoken poorly about. I'm really fond of all my main teachers, from my masters, and from the Montessori training I'm doing, and I can't find any fault in the care and diligence they put into teaching my and my classmates and I'm pretty certain I wouldn't be able to do a sixth the job they did/are doing.
This doesn't change the fact that I'm frustrated with teacher training programs, but the problems are more systemic. Even really good teacher trainers end up severely limited in what they can do by time and money and applicants.
I talked with the lead teacher, and now have a better understanding of the purposes of the homework I'm doing, and so as I do it, I'm approaching it in a less careful and meticulous, but more useful way, and that feels a lot better. It has the definite purpose of preparing me for the exam, in that I'm creating study cheat-sheets, and am doing a first pass at memorization by reading it and then trying to recall it without looking back at it. The quiz and recall method that is far more effective than just reading something a while bunch of times.
In addition, I'm adding my own spice to it, by then looking over the handout and seeing what parts I missed, and adding them in with asterisks, reminding me of the parts I'm liable to forget or mix up the order on. That's all familiarizing me with the presentations in a useful way, it makes sense.
It's way too much, but the trainer admitted as much, and he didn't say it then, but I can guess that the reason is because we are trying to cram things in to a shorter time period than they deserve, because people can't afford to pay for longer schooling or take more time off. To do this right, it would be maybe a year and a half and then another half-year of practice, something like that. That would be more like the ideal rate to absorb things and not be unhealthy and overly stressful, which it certainly is. But it's not just about the ideal method of teaching, it's about the practicalities of life. It's expensive enough as it is, without tacking on more time. So while I think it's a bad idea, it might be one of those, "least bad" kind of answers. If the training were perfectly tailored for maximum learning, maybe 90% of the people who wanted to do it, wouldn't be able to, because of time or money.
So, I get it. I get it all. Here's the real problem:
I hate rushing, it's like poison in my system. When I feel rushed and worried about the time, I go from being really sweet and easy-going, easy to forgive, relaxed and understanding, to this fire breathing monster. The contrast is stark. Normally it's extremely difficult to get any kind of rise out of me, even if I find something reprehensible, I'm able to put myself in the other persons shoes and understand where they are coming from.
When I am rushed, when I feel like I've got a million things to do and they're all do in 4 days and I've got 6 days worth of work to do, I start getting pissed off at the most silly trivial things. Finally I understand road rage. That slow man crossing the road throws me into paroxysms of vitriol, technical difficulties that take extra time to solve become the devil incarnate, mocking and tormenting me. Each new irritation makes me more susceptible to the next, until I am seeing obstacles everywhere, and each of them makes me want to scream and curse.
I'm exaggerating only moderately. The other horrible thing about this state, is I just feel bad. I end up hating everything. The pleasures of the world turn to ash in my mouth. All I can taste is the bitter hot bile of my frustration and impatience.
It saps my energy, it saps the joy from my life, it makes the world grey. with splotches of red.
There are more issues with this rushing hurried state: I hurt myself more often, I make mistakes I never would otherwise. Talking poorly about others being one of the bigger one's I realized I was doing recently.
In any case, I've decided that I refuse. Nothing is worth that. I will work hard and long, and perhaps still curse my slave masters for the backbreaking, eye-strain inducing labor. But not seriously, because ultimately I signed up for it, I chose it and continue to choose it. Now that I have an understanding of the purposes, I can work on not doing more than is actually useful, and doing what is useful, in the most economically beneficial way. Understanding the purpose means I can do it for myself, not for some shadowy creature that demands random, torturous, incomprehensible actions of me, that feels a lot more empowering.
My dad suggested I just not do some of the work, or do it poorly. Sorry dad, I'm probably not gonna slow down much or get much more free time. Maybe a little bit. But I just don't like doing a poor job at things. It almost feels like I'm incapable of it, in some ways. If I'm gonna do something, I'm gonna do it well. Hopefully I'll be doing a bit less work because I'm working on focusing on just the effort that is useful. But I can't really short-change it, and still graduate. If I slack off now it means even more work later down the line. I can't control how much time it will take, beyond a small percent, but I can try and control how I'm spreading out that work, and the process of doing the work, and hopefully make that less stressful.
So much of our experience of life comes not from the direct experience, but from the story we tell ourselves while we do whatever we're doing. Am I getting my toe stubbed! Dang it! Anger! Am I getting cut open with knives for a surgical operation? Thank God for modern medicine! Anger or gratitude, depending on the story around it. So I'll try and tell a good story, and I'll try and do it in such a way that it is a good story.
OK, that's all.
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