Tag: words

povism – n. the frustration of being stuck inside your own head, unable to see your face or read your body language in context, only ever guessing how you might be coming across – which makes you think of yourself as a detached observer squinting out at a lushly painted landscape, though to everyone else you seem woven into the canvas.

That’s quite a definition. I know that many people aren’t aware of their body language or their expression. I know that watching myself in recordings has taught me to be aware of what I look like. However, before I did that, I didn’t realize how I reacted at times.

I see this often while coaching, and it can be hard to get players to realize their body language and expressions impact other players. Or the coaches.

I think I have some povism, and often would wish there were a monitor or mirror that helped me see what I look like. Easier to do on stage, but hard to do in life. Mostly, I can only reduce povism by asking my wife or kids to tell me when I am not projecting what I want.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

hiddled – adj.  feeling of loneliness of having to keep a secret to yourself.

I don’t know I am often hiddled. I don’t tend to keep secrets by myself. Often I do share with my wife, because it’s important to me to unload on someone, discuss something, or make them aware. That last one seems to be more important as I age.

That being said, if I didn’t share a secret, I would feel quite hiddled.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

bareleveling – v.  trying to improve yourself without anyone else knowing about it, afraid that they’ll think it’s silly or grandiose or unnecessary, or that they’’ll end up calling too much attention to your efforts, transforming a casual tweak into a flashy rebranding campaign.

I certainly engage in bareleveling. I bet a lot of you, especially musicians or singers, barelevel all the time. You practice and work, but don’t want anyone to know. I do that, though I’ve gotten better at playing my songs and not being too worried about how other perceive me. Having a guitar in the lobby of Redgate HQ has helped.

However, I’ve stopped short of traveling with a guitar. I might if it’s my wife and I, but if I have to present or visit a customer, I don’t want to be carrying a guitar around. Mostly I don’t want anyone to make a production or ask me to play when I might be focused on something else.

Hopefully you do some bareleveling in your career as well, though be sure you are getting some feedback from someone that ensures you’re improving in the ways that matter to you.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

vicarous – adj. curious to know what someone else would do if they were in your shoes, eager to watch another actor put their own spin on the character of YOU – carrying your body differently, speaking in a tone you never use, saying and doing things you didn’t even know were an option – a performance that might well end in disaster but would at least remind you that there are many different ways to play this role, even though you tend to assume you’re just reading the lines as written.

I am not an actor. I haven’t participated in theater or movies, though I have learned a bit about what it’s like from various presentations, promotions, and interviews I’ve done. While I’m always me, I don’t always feel as happy as I may appear.

That being said, I do think that I am just reading my lines by being me. My approach to life and work changes over time, somewhat like a rewrite of a character in a show, but these are the choices I make for a better life, career, relationship, whatever.

I don’t usually wonder how someone else might approach my life, though certainly I do wonder if others might perform better in things I do at work. Or coaching. I think about how another presenter might deliver my talk, or

I sometimes wish I were a better character in my personal life, but I don’t ever think about someone else would play my role. That feels too weird.

I mostly think about how I could learn to be better by watching someone else play their role.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows