Ever since my last post, which started out about locked-in syndrome (inspired by The Diving Bell and the Butterfly), but which developed into a revisitation of a frequently discussed topic [on this blog] – "the need for approval … for validation … for appreciation … for mattering" – I’ve been attuned to validation in a variety of forms and forums.
The stream of comments that followed my initial post were incredibly engaging and validating – to know that two people I admire so much were touched by the post, as was another person who serendipitously stumbled upon it – and all of them helped draw me a bit deeper (and more broadly) in a followup comment into the topic(s) I’d touched on in the initial post … culminating in my revisiting one of the most validating poems I’ve ever encountered: "Love after Love", by Derek Walcott ("… You will love again the stranger who was yourself …").
However, another comment on that thread – and a number of other recent comments on a number of other posts – initially appeared validating, but upon closer inspection (and reflection), seem less so. In an earlier post, in which I was commenting on commenting, I explicitly named – and thus (I believe) alienated – a friend who had posted a validating comment which had a very similar syntactic look and feel to other comments which I labeled spampliments – thinly, though sometimes effectively (due to my incurable addiction to validation – online or offline), disguised spam compliments. Such comments appear to be primarily intended to add "google juice" to various web sites – by incorporating a URL in the comment itself and/or in the commenter self-reference. I’m tempted to delve deeper into this shadow – I tend to be very self-referential in both my blog posts and comments on this and other blogs – but given my perception that I lost a blog commenter (if not reader (if not friend)) last time I ranted about this, I think I’ll simply drop it, but not without first noting that validating comments that [initially] appear to be validating me (or my blog … not that I think the difference is significant (and therein lies the rub)) is an ongoing challenge. I do want to be very explicit, though, that I really do appreciate (and feel validated by) comments from people who are in some way moved by what I write. [Ironically, I recently noticed that the number of comments on my blog has superseded the number of posts … and that trend may reverse itself [now] … but I feel impelled to write what I think and feel.]
Anyhow, returning to the original thread, yesterday, during the 4+ hour drive down to MyStrands HQ in Corvallis, OR, I had an unusually long time for audio engagement. During the first portion of the drive, I listened to the audiobook rendition of The Four Agreements, by Don Miguel Ruiz. I’ve already written about his second agreement – don’t take anything personally (the same post in which I explored my shadow(s) about commenting on commenting) – and his fourth agreement – always do your best (about which I [still] feel strongly ambivalent). One of the things that jumped out at me during this particular listening experience was his description of how, as young children, the adults in positions of authority (parents, teachers, ministers) hooked our attention, and "domesticated" us by cultivating an addiction to future attention … resulting in, among other things, our willingness – and even desire – to [try to] be who we are not simply to please other people … i.e., just to receive validation (from others).
I then switched on the radio, to catch some NPR news … which was immediately followed by Terry Gross’ Fresh Aire interview of Sheryl Crow, one of my favorite artists (make no mistake). During the interview, entitled Sheryl Crow: Gracefully Navigating "Detours", she spoke – among other things – of her need to be accepted and appreciated for her music, not [simply] for her physical beauty. She said she intentionally dressed in a bedraggled style and used black makeup in the photo shoots for the cover[t] art on her first two albums – Tuesday Night Music Club and the self-titled Sheryl Crow (I always thought it odd to have a self-titled second album) – in an attempt to obscure her visual attractiveness, so that people would be better able to hear and appreciate her aural artistry. Well, at the risk of dating myself, and without delving too deeply into this shadow, her first two albums were my gateway into opening up again to popular music, after a nearly 20-year "dry spell". Her musical talents shined brightly (for me), and despite her attempts to hide her physical attributes, those too shined through pretty clearly (I’ll briefly note that Pink Floyd‘s song, "Shine On, You Crazy Diamond", was released near the end of what I consider the [last] golden age of rock and roll). Anyhow, the point I really want to emphasize here is that I find it reassuring that even an artist as immensely talented as Sheryl Crow still feels the need to be validated … which makes me just a wee bit less self-conscious and more accepting about this need in my self … perhaps enabling me to better love [myself] with a paper thin heart.
Comments
5 responses to “Commenting on Validation / Validating Comments”
Kia ora Joe,
Again you release many thoughts to ponder. Perhaps as we grow and escape those restraints cultivated in our youth and at least try to become the people we should actually be, or could actually be, we find validation still remains important, as a guide?, or measure? I guess if you are willing to put stuff out there it is not unreasonable to appreciate true response. No doubt there are a lot of people who will read your posts or mine, and never comment, such is life. My own feelings are, as you allude to, if I am moved, or your writing impacts my thinking of a subject, then I feel as if I should let you know it has impacted me.
By the way, I genuinely look forward to reading, or listening, to your increased interaction with music. I remember well times at Ripon listening to music for hours in one dorm room or another, and you, along with Jeff had a huge impact on my still developing musical taste.
In any case, keep writing, and I’ll keep reading – and commenting.
Have a great day.
Ka kite,
Robb
Joe
Ditto your feelings about spamliments. I just got a request via email to link to my site from a sunglasses vendor! Unfortunately my distinctive reply was returned to me because the vendor’s account is “over quota.” I bet by a lot.
Joe, I was again touched by your statements about appreciation and validation, the vulnerable expressions of your “paper thin” heart. It makes me want to write a post on the nature of woundedness (if only to explore this within myself) and the evolving awareness of the wounds we carry or that carry us. What I find again and again is that for me the ancient pain of my own heart is like a Zen koan — an emotional koan rather than an intellectual one. It can’t be answered in the usual way; it seems stamped onto me and won’t let me go; and it drives me toward some form of awakening. I take bits and pieces of awareness everyday from the pins and needles and terrible jolts of the world. Call it validation, or appreciation, the need for approval, the hunger for acceptance or love, those feelings — when I really let them — take me toward despair or toward someplace spiritual from which I must define myself and act. I feel that in your post, too. And I don’t believe it is the same for everyone. Gender, race, culture, ethnicity, family conditioning, personal experience can all play here and develop into wicked problems for human beings, holding the potentials for all kinds of different pain, misunderstandings, and compensations — including as one example Sheryl Crow’s make-up because the wound for her contains being judged by her physical beauty than her actual work. In a larger sense, it is our wounds, individual and collective, that cause us to go to war with one another, create our art, find community, or gradually deepen us into a genuinely compassionate spirit that holds and mends our experiences. On any given day, I may be one place or another, but its only being visited by the last of the four that gives me a true sense of wholeness.
And where would such a compassionate spirit come from? Well, you tell me. That has always seemed to be the door to the mystery, to the other side. Some say it’s angels or helpers or totems or simply an ecstatic vision of the world. I’m not a mystic, so I’m guessing that what this means is that you can’t escape the primacy of the wound without being drawn into different experiences of reality. Perhaps that’s the shaman’s way, since it’s said that a shaman cannot help heal in others what he or she has not experienced personally.
Robb & Dan: thanks for the comments – and the validation :-).
Robb: I appreciate your invocation of appreciation, and I agree it is reasonable (and perhaps even advisable) to appreciate comments … the key (for me) is to not be attached to comments, or the lack thereof.
Funny you should mention Jeff; I was thinking of him as I wrote that Sheryl Crow is “one of my favorite artists”, as he used to enjoy ribbing me about the large and ever increasing number of “favorite” artists (and songs) I seemed to enjoy – and so being “one of” such an increasing set became decreasingly noteworthy.
Dan: thank you for sharing your insights into and experience with woundedness. Due in part to my ongoing re-engagement with music, this reminds me of some lyrics from Leonard Cohen‘s song, Anthem (available on last.fm), which I first encountered via Oriah Mountain Dreamer‘s audiobook, Your Heart’s Prayer: Following the Thread of Desire into a Deeper Life:
I’m also reminded of observations made by the poet David Whyte in his book, The Heart Aroused: Poetry and Preservation of the Soul in Corporate America:
I’ll look forward to reading what [more] you will write about woundedness on your blog!
Kia ora Joe,
A most interesting point you raise about not being too attached to comments or lack thereof. A view I had not considered, or perhaps have without my realizing it. After all it could be argued that any written words contains a large portion of ego, particularly when we then post it in the cyber world for virtually anyone to read, so part of us perhaps desires that feed back from others. I guess when we become too attached to that, as you say, or need to be validated by others that the slope gets a bit slippery. I had initially started my own blog as a way to communicate with family and friends obviously far away, and perhaps stimulate some “conversations” amongst people I care about and rarely see. I will be honest and admit my disappointment when that did not develop. Yet slowly what did was a small group of expat Kiwis with a connection to the mountains here began to find me, and occasionally encourage me to continue. I have found that interesting. I also found Dan’s comments on woundedness extremely hard hitting for me personally. certainly something I have battled, and still do. Amost interesting turn to your original post. How cool. Have a fantastic day Joe.
Ka kite,
Robb
Robb: I’ve noticed how many previously unknown visitors post comments on your blog – I think it’s great how you’ve created a well-spring of serendipitous connections with others who share your passions, and inspired them through the combination of shared experiences and unique insights. Blogging is, for me, a fabulous practice of letting go of expectations of others … and [thereby?] opening up to unexpected gifts … like this thread :-).