Integrity

"What is it that I like so much about the house you're building for me, Howard?"

"A house can have integrity, just like a person," said Roark, "and just as seldom."

"In what way?"

"Well, look at it. Every piece of it is there because the house needs it -- and for no other reason. You see it from here as it is inside. The rooms in which you'll live made the shape. The relation of masses was determined by the distribution of space within. The ornament was determined by the method of construction, an emphasis of the principle that makes it stand. You can see each stress, each support that meets it. Your own eyes go through a structural process when you look at the house, you can follow each step, you see it rise, you know what made it and why it stands. But you've seen buildings with columns that support nothing, with purposeless cornices, with pilasters, mouldings, false arches, false windows. You've seen buildings that look as if they contained a single large hall, they have solid columns and single, solid windows six floors high. But you enter and find six stories inside. Or buildings that contain a single hall, but with a facade cut up into the floor lines, band courses, tiers of windows. Do you understand the difference? Your house is made by its own needs. Those others are made by the need to impress. The determining motive of your house is in the house. The determining motive of the other is in the audience."

"Do you know that that's what I've felt in a way? I've felt that when I move into this house, I'll have a new sort of existence, and even my simple daily routine will have a kind of honesty or dignity that I can't quite define. Don't be astonished if I tell you that I feel as if I'll have to live up to that house."

"I intended that," said Roark.

"And, incidentally, thank you for all the thought you seem to have taken about my comfort. There are so many things I notice that had never occured to me before, but you've planned them as if you knew all my needs. For instance, my study is the room I'll need most and you've given it the dominant spot -- and, incidentally, I see where you've made it the dominant mass from the outside, too. And then the way it connects with the library, and the living room well out of my way, and the guest rooms where I won't hear too much of them -- and all that. You were very considerate of me."

"You know," said Roark, "I haven't thought of you at all. I thought of the house." He added: "Perhaps that's why I knew how to be considerate of you."

--The Fountainhead

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Last summer, I started reading The Fountainhead and felt very frustrated with it. I did not like either of the main characters, seeing them both as crazy extremes of the way one is to approach life. This summer, I am reading it again and I find it to be an interestingly, wonderfully different experience. It's amazing how much a person can change in a year. Even subtle changes can inspire drastic growths in one's outlook on the world.

This particular segment of the book is one which I feel speaks directly to me and my learning experiences this past year, so I am sharing it with you. It speaks volumes of truth to me. I hope it does to you, too.

Conversation Of The Day

[I'm working in July as a substitute assistant teacher in a pre-school where my mother does physical therapy. Today was my first day. With about an hour left to the day, the music teacher came.]

Teacher: This is [my mom's name]'s daughter.

Music Teacher: Oh...you're the writer?

Me: Heh, yeah.

Music Teacher: Yeah, I had a whole conversation with your mom after graduation.* You know, soon after that I got an email from the father of one of the kids who thought I did such a good job with the graduation, and I saw that on the bottom of the email there was a link to a website. I clicked on it and saw that this boy's father is an author! A really big one.

Me: Oh, cool.

Music Teacher: Yeah, I thought of you. I don't know if you've heard of him or not...Gordon Korman?

Me: [thinking: did I hear that correctly?] Gordon Korman?! I used to read his books! Oh my gosh! That's so cool!

Music Teacher: Yeah! So I wrote him back and we're going out for coffee so I can pick his brain because I'm thinking about writing kids' books also. I'll mention it to your mom.

Me: ::starry-eyed:: Reeeaaally???

Gordon Korman...Jerry Spinelli...Louis Sachar...ah, childhood.

But how cool is that?!

*I went to the pre-school graduation a few weeks ago.

The Importance Of The Back And Forth

I wasn't sure how to begin this post, so I suppose I'll begin with myself. I don't like getting so personal, even though I have written some very personal things on here before, but I feel this is an important point to make.

It's very difficult to listen to other people's critical opinions concerning myself. I'm sure this is true for most people. When someone voices a criticism, it's as though that voiced criticism has a power ten times greater than anything going on in my own mind. So even if I previously believed I could do something, once someone verbalizes a doubt, I begin to doubt myself.

This is a bad thing. No one else's opinion about yourself should have that much weight. You should listen to that person's opinion, you should decide if you feel it is a valuable one, and you should take from it what you think reasonable. You should not in any way allow that person's opinion to define the way you think of yourself. Just because someone voices something does not mean that thing is accurate or true. And speaking something aloud does not give that thing any power if other people do not allow it to have power - if you don't allow it to have power.

On the other hand, an opinion expressed now has a life. It is up to you to decide if that opinion is silly, whereupon you can quash it with your own common sense, or if it has validity. If you determine it to be valid in some way, you can internalize those valid parts and use them to improve yourself.

Now let's extend this beyond the personal.

If someone criticizes an institution, does it mean that criticism is true? Of course not. It is one person's biased opinion - and opinions are nearly always biased. Everyone comes from his/her own point of view and each point of view is unique.

However, once that criticism is voiced, others may listen to it and agree. Or even if they do not agree, they may suddenly be considering that opinion. It is in their heads. It has a life.

This does NOT mean it is correct, nor does it mean the person voicing this opinion should be bashed for doing so. What it means is that someone who believes differently should voice his own opinion.

You see, before any opinions are expressed, they are believed. One person may speak them aloud, but many others are already thinking them in their heads. Keeping voices silent does not keep thoughts silent, and silent thoughts are almost more dangerous than ones verbalized in discussion.

Discussion is the key here. Without discussion, there cannot be real growth. Why do people learn in chavrusas? Because it is the discussion, the back and forth, that enables greater understanding. Otherwise, everyone should just learn on his own and keep his own thoughts to himself. That way they won't interfere with someone else's thoughts - right? They won't mess anything up for anyone.

Is that really an ideal way to exist? To have everyone think his own things in an isolated bubble of belief? How can we be one nation if we don't intellectually and religiously engage one another?

If there is a strong voice on one side, make sure you have an equally strong voice on your own side. There is nothing to be afraid of that way. Discussion is not to be feared. Without it, you would never get to explain to someone else why what you believe makes sense.

Someone of a different opinion would have no influence.

But neither would you.

Wave Over Wave

I really like this song.

Directions

I forge my way through brambling woods, a path crunching under my footsteps. Each step leaves its own imprint, joining in the trail of footprints behind me. Ahead, there is no path, for I have not yet tread beyond where I stand right now.

To say I don't know where the path leads is a misinterpretation of how I live. In my life, my footsteps create the path, like Hansel and Gretel dropping breadcrumbs along their way. I can turn around and look at the road I have paved with each small step I venture toward the unformed future. I can see the way it weaves, sometimes making sharp turns, sometimes going rigidly straight, but never in too predictable of a pattern.

I am my own person and so I make my own choices. I alone am the craftswoman of this path. I am the artist. I decide whether to go right or left, or diagonal, or circular. I make my own wrong turns and I find new ways to reach where I wish to go.

Sometimes I watch other people and their paths, trying to learn and understand which choices have certain results, which direction is rockier, which is smooth, which is an uphill struggle, which will let me slide easily downward. (Of course, perhaps it is better to struggle upward than to slide downward.)

And sometimes my directional choices take me far away from people who once tread nearby. They also bring me closer to others. But it's strange, the way that happens. I am used to certain scenery, certain company, and then gradually - too gradually for me to notice right away - everything changes. I end up somewhere else, somewhere new, somewhere wonderful.

But what about those whose paths used to be nearer to mine? What if my path does not naturally head in their direction anymore? Do I just leave them behind? Or do I try to force my feet in directions they do not wish to walk so I may travel closer to those the rest of me wishes to be near? What if that means turning back instead of going forward? Is there a way to turn back while still advancing in my own direction?

One Of Those Days. Or Two.

The past few days have all qualified as "one of those days." Between having to take care of every aspect of my life (someone normal to date, for one thing, since I don't think I've ever had a good date and the last guy I went out with was a horror story. And a place to live this coming year. And a job so I can pay for the place I'm hopefully living in. Etc.) and having to take care of more immediate things (how am I getting to Lakewood for a good friend's wedding? How am I getting back? Where am I sleeping? Etc.), it was just about the last straw when I had to get fingerprinted for a small summer job I have in July and, after being told to wait half an hour yesterday because everyone was out to lunch, and then being told to come back today because only one person was working there, I was then told today that I have to wait about half an hour to an hour because, again, "I'm the only one working here." Geez. You DO know it takes about two minutes to fingerprint someone, right?

(Phew! Long run on. Everyone take a moment and catch your breath.)

Anyway, while I was waiting, an Indian man came in - also to be fingerprinted - and he was also told to wait. So we talked a little bit. He was very nice. I forgot his name though - something like...Isal? Something like that. Anyway, he asked me if I was interested in business and finance because that's where he works. I said no. He told me he's licensed in 42 states and he's getting fingerprinted to be licensed in another one. I told him that was cool.

Anyway, I'm sure you're all fascinated by our small conversation. Point is, after about 50 minutes of waiting, they finally fingerprinted me. They kept asking me if I wanted to go and come back later, but I decided the only way they'd actually do it is if I sat there waiting for them. So I did.

After getting fingerprinted (again, which took only two minutes), I went to the parking lot of the police station to get my car. I got in the car. Then I started to pull out of the spot.

Now, this has never happened to me before. Ever. So it's just my luck that it would happen, suddenly, in a police station parking lot with a bunch of actual policemen milling around talking. I backed up a bit too far into someone else's car.

I could see the expressions on the policemen's faces. They cringed, as if saying, "whoa boy."

"You want to take this?" one said to the other with a tiny smirk.

The other grinned and said, "sure."

I got out of my car and saw that there was no damage at all to the car I had backed into. Just to mine (my dad's, really). It wasn't even so terrible, but it would have to be fixed.

"Hang on a minute, we're just going to find out whose car this is," the policeman told me. I said okay.

Moments later, a tall, good-looking, intimidating, uniformed man came over to me.

"Hi. That's my car."

I swallowed.

"Oh."

Figures it would belong to a police officer. I must have looked terrified - gosh, I felt terrified - like I was going to be arrested or something. But somehow, I think the officer was even more nervous than I was.

"This your car?"

"N-no, it's my dad's... I'm really, really sorry!"

"Oh, don't worry about my car! My car's good - it's perfect! It's just your car...you're not going to file a report, are you?"

"I...don't think so?"

"Why don't you call your dad and find out. I can talk to him if you want."

"Okay."

So I called my dad, but his phone was off. I called my mom and she said to get the officer's information just in case.

"So, um, my mom said probably not but I have to check with my dad, so can I, um, have your phone number...?"

"Oh, sure!" He handed me his card and I dropped it onto the seat beside me. "I'm working here the next two days, too, so feel free to drop by if there are any problems."

"Okay...thank you."

He left. And then I left. (Very Carefully.)

When I turned out of the parking lot and stopped at a stop sign, I glanced over at the card he left.

It said Detective.

...No way. An actual detective?!

Great. So I backed into a detective's car. And he was worried about me?

Anyway...it's been a stressful two days (/summer, because of all the bigger stuff weighing on my mind). I think I need a hug.

Time And Self

(Hat tip: Ezzie)

• "Lost time is never found again." --Benjamin Franklin
• "Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you." --Carl Sandburg
• "Until you value yourself, you won't value your time. Until you value your time, you will not do anything with it." --M. Scott Peck