Bunting vs. swinging away: A life in baseball cards

I recently got done reading "Cardboard Gods" by Josh Wilker. He's about 4-5 years younger than me. He pens a memoir of childhood and early adulthood based on different baseball cards from his childhood. It's an interesting concept, though the book could be even more deeply biographical than it is.

Anyway, Wilker played Little League, albeit not very well by his own admission, through his childhood. In the last game of his last year, in Babe Ruth-level play, the manager on two separate at bats gave him a bunt sign. Wilker followed through the first time, and said he could accept it, but the second time, saw no strategic reason for it, and so he swung away.

An interesting thought. Bunting, even for a base hit rather than a sacrifice, is a "safe" move, versus swinging away. It's a metaphor for life that I'll hold on to for a bit longer. This is about "security."

I first thought of the jobs world, but, unless one is a deliberate risk-taker, "bunting" is wise right now. But, other issues? Hmmm ...

Welcome? to 2011

It's a new year, and I turned a year older by the calendar last week.

I'm hoping to continue to improve in acceptance of the outside world, self-acceptance, resilience, and what I can learn about myself, among other things, in the months ahead.

I am hoping to learn more about self-awareness of others' critiques of aspects of me, to distinguish critiques from criticisms and more.

I am hoping to "move forward" in other ways in life too.

I am hoping to improve job-hunting/networking skills if I don't "land" something new relatively soon.

The Donner Party, struggle and motivation

California was a land of lore and lure even before John Marshall found gold traces in 1848.

Farming, ranching, mild climate and vast unclaimed, untamed acres all called across the Sierras to Americans, even before the land had been wrested from Mexico.
Among those listening?

Jacob Breen and family. George Keseberg. And, the eponymous Donner family.

Unlike the Founding Fathers, these people had no fortunes to give. But they did give most of what money they had to make the trip. And, they certainly, in cases such as Jacob Breen, had honor, whether sacred or not, to pledge to their fellow travelers.
While on vacation recently, I visited some Donner Party sites. Though I had driven I-80 before through the area, I had never gotten off the freeway at the Donner State Party site. And, since I had come from the north, on a California state highway site, about 7-8 miles north of the interstate, I saw the Donner Meadows, where the Donners themselves wintered in 1846-47.

I asked myself, rhetorically, what would I be willing to do to get to California today? How much work would I be willing to expend? How much of my current “baggage” would I be willing to discard? What is my goal in getting to California — am I moving to something or just away from something?

I haven’t pondered those questions too much yet. Maybe I’m deliberately avoiding them a little bit. Maybe, like many other things in life, I want a surer goal before committing to them more.

That said, let me look at the Donners more. Yes, they knew about California the potential agricultural paradise. But, gold had not yet been discovered. They were simply looking for a better life, not to get rich.

Beyond that, how much am I willing to surrender of my old self for change today, in general? As I get older, do I get more attached to what I already have? Less willing to take risks?

How much is pain in my current life, combined with hope for the future, going to be a motivator?
And, by the time I had gotten back home, or soon afterward, I had at least one additional question for myself.

Is the desire to move to California a search for a “geographic cure” for issues that need help in other ways?

All good questions. To some of them, I don’t yet consciously know the answers, though I may have partial answers in my subconscious. Others I can answer more fully right now.

As for a geographic cure? No. I’ve been interested in moving to California for years.
As for pain as a motivator? It may continue to grow, and maybe I need that.

And, “surrender,” or another term? How much am I willing to let go of old attachments, such as what job or career path I should or should not follow, how much anxiety I can tolerate in daily life and more? At least at the conscious level, I don’t have answers here, though I suspect that I have more letting go to do — letting go of preconceptions about myself, letting go of attachments to old emotional patters, and things like that.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Donner_party

A reply to 'Invictus'

Am I indeed the captain of my soul?
I find it hard to believe that is so.
Translating the individual “I”
To the global core of humanity
I think that it’s well-nigh impossible.
The individual human psyche,
Convoluted and self-referential,
Means the “I” is not quite that simple.
As for that “master” subroutine inside,
The one that supposedly masters “I”?
The king always faces peasant revolts.
If not that, a master can go haywire.
And, when that happens, then who masters it?
– April 2, 2009

INVICTUS, by William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.

An insight from William Glasser about two elemental needs

From “Reality Therapy”:

We want to love and be loved, and we want to feel worthwhile to ourselves and others. Sounds like good psychology in a nutshell.