The Measure of a Man

Iwan Pietrowicz Pawlow's bust in front of Mosc...

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I am sitting in a class called behavioural assessment. The professor expounds. They want me to believe that I am the sum of the vectors around me. They want me to believe that I am the result of conditions, conditioning. They want me to be my behavior, and nothing more. This to me, is an unacceptable condition. We are not just Pavlovian dogs that drool at meat, we are more than just apes with a big craniums. I sense that at the root of it lies the struggle for culture, for something deeper.

We struggle to deal with the responsibility of developing our talents. Believing that we have it, because others won’t until you do. Getting past the point where you feel like it’s a car that sometimes won’t start. Trying to accept the fear that comes with setting goals. Trying to struggle to deal with limitations, to deal with the patience that it takes to sculpt the rawness of intent into form and substance. To wake up from your dreams and try to make them real, and not to feel them slip through your fingers. To give birth to your potential, to nurture it and feed it. To cut your fingernails and take out the trash in between it all. To get off the couch of your own mind and put paper to pen, either literally, metaphorically. To understand what the meta is for. Continue reading