About not judging a book by its cover or an apple by its colour - and on interviewees

I love sayings in general, such as "Don't judge a book by its cover", ie, don't judge by appearances; but even as I write this, I become aware that we often do and in certain circumstances, it can be an appropriate response. (This only goes to show that for every so-called 'rule', there's probably always a case for the opposite to be true!)

The trigger for this post was my morning apple. It looked a bit greenish and not very appetising to tell the truth but apple after porridge is the order of the day (or should I say breakfast) so it was consumed - and turned out to be delicious. Now, how often has the reverse been true! I've eaten many a beautifully red and luscious-looking specimen, only to be sorely disappointed. The proof of the apple, as of the pudding, is definitely in the eating. (Now there's a really good saying!)

As to interviewees, well I've known situations when the good interviewee is definitely not the man - or woman - for the job. Some people can 'talk a good job', as they say, but cannot come up with the goods; whereas others cannot seem to do themselves justice in the interview situation.

I once worked with someone who was an excellent deputy head but wasn't offered the headship when it became vacant, even though the school knew his abilities. Shortly afterwards, he was appointed as head of another local school where he was the second choice when the first choice withdrew. That school was not achieving brilliantly at the time. He totally turned it round and, in reputation and results, it eventually superseded his original school, which began to lose its former high status, I'd say.

Oh dear for them, and how very gratifying for him, I always thought. (How very naughty of me, I know.) They had a good apple in their hands but let him go. Here we are then back at books and covers - and apples - would you believe; sometimes dull beats flashy and greenish beats red, eh.

About 'funny ways' and 'wabi-sabi'

Could it be true that most of us are awkward and/or difficult in one way or another?
When I first moved to the area in which I have lived most of my adult life, I was much taken with a local saying; "We've all got 'us funny ways". This was good for me because I've always been over-conscious of, and embarrassed by, my funny ways. (Yes, I do admit I have a few!! Husband, of course has NO funny ways, although he will accept that he's not perfect, for which admission, I suppose I must be grateful!)

If only we could learn to accept our own imperfections - funny ways, if you like - and those of everyone around us and train ourselves to see our own and others' gifts and strengths, surely life would be so much easier - and happier. I've written a few posts about this topic so I suppose it must be dear to my heart. Maybe I'll never achieve that goal but I can hope that it helps to keep it in mind every now and again.

PS
In recent times, I've heard and read a little about a Japanese concept called wabi-sabi so I decided to look it up on google.
In Wikipedia, it is described as a Japanese world view, centred on the acceptance of 'transience, impermanence and imperfection'. It is an aesthetic of 'beauty that is imperfect, impermanent and incomplete'.
Briefly, 'wabi' is to be satisfied with a little ....... (of anything) and 'sabi',  'the bloom of youth'. Wabi people are 'free in their hearts' and  their ability to 'make-do with less' is revered.

These are just a few of the snippets I read. There is so much to chose from, some of it couched in lyrically poetic language. It really is a highly interesting and beautiful set of ideas to me and I'd recommend it to anyone else who might be interested.

Some more thoughts

My thoughts are like birds,
Flittering and twittering 
Around the branches of my mind.

Sometimes it seems to me that we are all 
The 'walking wounded' in the field-hospital of life.

Some more thoughts from my notebooks

For me, truth is the key in the lock of life.

Do we all need an editor? (I know I do.)

The salient point;
The point on which all things turn.

Mankind?  Man-unkind!

'On His Blindness' by John MIlton

This is my second favourite poem in all the world.
Like 'Everyone Sang', it was from our school syllabus and I have always loved it.

          On His Blindness

When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent 
That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts: who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait"


What is it about these words that makes them so moving? How can we even begin to comprehend this great poet's burning desire to create, to fulfil his talent, despite his failing sight and his anguish at the prospect of such a terrible loss? To need someone as his scribe, to amend and retouch by having to listen to someone else read his work to him over and over again must have been desperately hard for him to bear.

His thoughts, as expressed in the middle section, from the words "to serve therewith my maker" to "exact day labour", do not reflect my own picture of God, I must say. Much as I feel this desire to write my own bits and pieces and much as I believe in God, the God I believe in is neither a chiding nor an exacting God; absolutely the reverse in fact.

I'm not even sure about "who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best." I cannot visualise God as placing yokes upon us but see our trials and difficulties as coming from the vagaries of our individual circumstances and choices and many other complex and probably unknowable aspects of our lives.

My belief is that by just living our lives and doing our best as often as we can, we achieve what really matters, both for ourselves but, even more so, for God,  our all- and ever-loving parent.

The last line, of course, says everything; what an unbelievable consolation for us all but, let us hope, most especially for Milton.

About anchors - anchoring and being anchored

Wife to husband to wife

I am your anchor and you are mine.

Why create? Beethoven's dedication on his Missa Solemnis

Many years ago, I heard someone quote these words on the radio. I have never forgotten them.

Vom Herzen,
möge es wieder, zu Herzen gehen.

This reads, literally:

From the heart,
might it again, to the heart go.

My reading of it is this:

This comes from my heart.
Would that it might, in your heart, find a home.

Where does the desire to write, sculpt, paint, compose come from? Who knows!
All we can say, if we have that desire, is that it is there and longs to be fulfilled.

Our lives may be crazy, mixed up, certainly far from perfect in all sorts of ways, as was Beethoven's, but this does not seem to prevent us from wanting and being able, to some extent at least, to bring some small or large, or in his case, achingly beautiful, powerful and moving work of art into being.

I can think of no words that, for me, could possibly come closer to the heart of artistic creation than those of Beethoven's. He encapsulates, in eight short words, all that I could ever hope for; that is that words which have come from my heart could find their way into another's.