Latest news with #selfreflection
The Guardian
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Helen Garner and Dua Lipa's interview caused a personal crisis. How can I be ‘quietly intelligent'?
Australian author Helen Garner offered a compliment to the unbelievably talented and beautiful Dua Lipa in a recent interview that has caused a somewhat personal crisis on my part. She described Lipa as 'quietly intelligent'. How can I be this? I worry now upon reflection that my intellect is too loud. I value intelligence and am, by a long shot, not the smartest in my family or friendship circle (which I love and think is very important), but there are oft times when I meet new people or have interactions with clients that I've thought, 'Ah, cripes, I didn't need to say it like that, it sounds like I'm showing off.' Eleanor says: I had a similar chat once with a friend who moved to the United States for her PhD around the same time I did. When we went back home and met new people, they'd say: 'What do you do?' We'd say: 'PhD in America.' They'd say: 'Cool, where?' And we'd wince about truthfully answering 'Princeton'. As though saying so came with a big studio placard: applause. Sometimes we'd pretend the question was about geography and say 'New Jersey' instead. But we both quickly realised that was weirder – like what, the news that we're moderately clever is so trying for strangers back home that it's only polite to conceal it? For heaven's sake, with ego like that, what use is politeness? Point of the story: letting other people see your intelligence isn't necessarily patronising. Carefully concealing it as a favour to them sure is. I think the heart of your question is how to reveal intelligence in a way that doesn't feel like asserting hierarchy. And I think the heart of the answer is unsticking it from anything much about you. There's a way of thinking about traits such as intelligence – or musicality, athleticism or anything we possess in different measures – as gifts that run through us, that don't really redound to our credit. This is not how we're taught to think about them. From when we're knee high we get on stage and clutch certificates rewarding us, such that 'aren't you clever' can feel synonymous with 'aren't you marvellous'. But these traits are largely heritable and the product of socioeconomic fortune. Hard work is involved, of course, but everyone with any kind of talent got it partly by being lucky. If you think of your traits as happy hits from the lottery stick, then it doesn't feel so wincey or rude to let them show. They're just gifts you happened to receive, and you can make life nicer and more beautiful by figuring out how to share them. Yo-Yo Ma doesn't refuse to play so as to avoid making other people feel bad. I think intelligence feels 'quiet' in the Dua Lipa, dignified way when it has this quality of generous sharing. It's about appreciating others' minds, and creating more beauty and interest for others. It looks straight through to an idea, to the world, not through a lens of: 'What does this say about me?' In contrast, intelligence feels noisy and show-offy when its bearer clearly thinks it's an exciting feature of them that they have it. That's when it feels like the gifted child deliberately saying a long word for the grown-ups. And that's why it can be every bit as condescending to conceal it as to reveal it: the show-off and the mealy mouthed downplayer are both making the same egotistical mistake. Maybe the conversation between Dua Lipa and Helen Garner that got you thinking about this is also a nice place to find an answer. Impressive women, sharing their intelligence with grace and generosity. Talent turned outwards for others, not angled in to shine mainly on its owner.
The Guardian
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Helen Garner and Dua Lipa's interview caused a personal crisis. How do I be ‘quietly intelligent'?
Australian author Helen Garner offered a compliment to the unbelievably talented and beautiful Dua Lipa in a recent interview that has caused a somewhat personal crisis on my part. She described Lipa as 'quietly intelligent'. How can I be this? I worry now upon reflection that my intellect is too loud. I value intelligence and am, by a long shot, not the smartest in my family or friendship circle (which I love and think is very important), but there are oft times when I meet new people or have interactions with clients that I've thought, 'Ah, cripes, I didn't need to say it like that, it sounds like I'm showing off.' Eleanor says: I had a similar chat once with a friend who moved to the United States for her PhD around the same time I did. When we went back home and met new people, they'd say: 'What do you do?' We'd say: 'PhD in America.' They'd say: 'Cool, where?' And we'd wince about truthfully answering 'Princeton'. As though saying so came with a big studio placard: applause. Sometimes we'd pretend the question was about geography and say 'New Jersey' instead. But we both quickly realised that was weirder – like what, the news that we're moderately clever is so trying for strangers back home that it's only polite to conceal it? For heaven's sake, with ego like that, what use is politeness? Point of the story: letting other people see your intelligence isn't necessarily patronising. Carefully concealing it as a favour to them sure is. I think the heart of your question is how to reveal intelligence in a way that doesn't feel like asserting hierarchy. And I think the heart of the answer is unsticking it from anything much about you. There's a way of thinking about traits such as intelligence – or musicality, athleticism or anything we possess in different measures – as gifts that run through us, that don't really redound to our credit. This is not how we're taught to think about them. From when we're knee high we get on stage and clutch certificates rewarding us, such that 'aren't you clever' can feel synonymous with 'aren't you marvellous'. But these traits are largely heritable and the product of socioeconomic fortune. Hard work is involved, of course, but everyone with any kind of talent got it partly by being lucky. If you think of your traits as happy hits from the lottery stick, then it doesn't feel so wincey or rude to let them show. They're just gifts you happened to receive, and you can make life nicer and more beautiful by figuring out how to share them. Yo-Yo Ma doesn't refuse to play so as to avoid making other people feel bad. I think intelligence feels 'quiet' in the Dua Lipa, dignified way when it has this quality of generous sharing. It's about appreciating others' minds, and creating more beauty and interest for others. It looks straight through to an idea, to the world, not through a lens of: 'What does this say about me?' In contrast, intelligence feels noisy and show-offy when its bearer clearly thinks it's an exciting feature of them that they have it. That's when it feels like the gifted child deliberately saying a long word for the grown-ups. And that's why it can be every bit as condescending to conceal it as to reveal it: the show-off and the mealy mouthed downplayer are both making the same egotistical mistake. Maybe the conversation between Dua Lipa and Helen Garner that got you thinking about this is also a nice place to find an answer. Impressive women, sharing their intelligence with grace and generosity. Talent turned outwards for others, not angled in to shine mainly on its owner.
Yahoo
02-08-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
These WMass performers are honing their skills at CitySpace Easthampton
EASTHAMPTON — For Amherst native Hazel Kleinman-Eddy — known to most as 'Hazel Basil' — music is more than just sound; it's a form of expression and self-reflection. 'Music allows me to explore myself and understand myself in the world around me better,' Kleinman-Eddy said in a recent interview with The Republican. Kleinman-Eddy is a member of the 2025 Pay it Forward residency at CitySpace Easthampton, a program that provides Western Massachusetts performance artists with venue access for shows and events, rehearsal space, financial support and one-on-one coaching. She also will be the first from her cohort to perform for an audience at CitySpace, when she takes the stage on Aug. 24. Kleinman-Eddy said she's been making music for as long as she can remember. As soon as she was old enough, she joined her school orchestra. A few years later, she picked up the violin, which she played for eight years — after that, she picked up the bass, and finally, she settled on the guitar. The guitar, Kleinman-Eddy said, 'stuck with her.' A turning point in Kleinman-Eddy's music and life journey was coming out as transgender in 2022. 'Music has felt feminine to me in my life, and embracing my femininity and realizing that I was transgender allowed me to really just blossom into the music,' Kleinman-Eddy said. That moment of self-discovery prefaced Kleinman-Eddy's debut album, 'Herbs and Grains,' a five-song project released in 2023. She is now working on two albums — one of which will be entirely instrumental. She's also preparing for her upcoming show at CitySpace, 'Breathe,' which also will be a heavily instrumental show. 'The idea behind 'Breathe' is that I think we don't do enough of it,' she said. 'Music, for me, is a breath. It is a moment outside of time, outside of all the pressures that keep me moving, in which I can rest and recharge and find a little bit of ground to stand on. And I want to share that with people.' The evening is being described as a meditative one — in-between songs, there will be the opportunity for audience members to write, journal and create art. Kleinman-Eddy's concert, 'Breathe,' will be held in the CitySpace Blue Room at Old Town Hall in Easthampton. Doors open at 7 p.m., and the performance begins at 7:30 p.m. Tickets, which start at $10 for general admission, can be purchased online at All proceeds will benefit the artist. Jazz roots Following 'Breathe,' another Pay it Forward artist — Chestina Thrower — will take the CitySpace stage on Aug. 30 for a night of soul and jazz. Doors open at 7 p.m. Thrower will be joined by their quartet: Kai Caban on bass, Jahian Cooper Monzie on drums and Matthew Mueller on piano. 'I feel like jazz has been the only space for African Americans to truly express themselves,' Thrower said. 'At least in the earlier times, that's how they got together, through improv and scatting.' Thrower was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, but moved to Springfield as a child, where they grew up. Thrower credits their father with nurturing a love of old-school music. 'We listened to a lot of doo-wop together,' Thrower said. 'And as I got older, I was exposed to Sarah Vaughan and a little bit of Miles Davis, and I think that just started me off, just having that in my ear.' Now singing jazz, Thrower said it's strengthened family ties, as well. 'Later, I was like, 'Oh yeah, I grew up on this. Let me try it.' So, I feel like ultimately, I have a stronger connection with my father, because it's the music of his time.' They've performed alongside a number of greats, including Western Massachusetts' own Charles Neville. Thrower performed onstage with Neville at the Springfield Jazz and Roots festival a year before Neville's passing. Thrower was 15 at the time. 'It was inspiring, just getting to work with this huge legend,' Thrower said. 'I remember when I told my mom, she was like, 'Oh, my gosh, you're playing with The Neville Brothers.'' Thrower also has performed at the Jazz in July All-Stars Concert at the University of Massachusetts Amherst and at Holyoke Community College. The show at CitySpace will be their first true headlining performance. 'I'm hoping to break a barrier with more alternative-looking people. You know, with all my tattoos and my piercings, I feel like a lot of people assume, 'Oh, you don't sing jazz,'' Thrower said. 'But I'm hoping to show people that, that has absolutely nothing to do with anyone's taste or their abilities.' Bringing CitySpace to those who need it most Zoe Fieldman, program director at CitySpace Easthampton, has overseen the Pay it Forward program for two years out of its four-year lifespan. The program was first launched by Burns Maxey, president of CitySpace. 'In our current culture, we view things like art and creativity as a luxury instead of a necessity, and a lot of people can't afford that luxury,' Fieldman said. 'So, what can we do to help bring this space to people who might otherwise need to forgo that part of their life because they can't afford to prioritize it?' It doesn't matter whether someone is just starting out in their journey, or if they've been creating music for years, or whether someone is 18 or 60, they are invited to apply to the Pay it Forward program. 'I like to say that for every connection that you make as an artist, you grow your network exponentially, because you might meet one person, but that person knows two people, and now you know three people,' Fieldman said. The complete 2025 Pay it Forward cohort includes: Muriel 'Monik' Johnson, of Springfield; Patric Madden, of Northampton; Chestina Thrower, of Springfield; Ricky Nixon, AKA The Heatmizer of LS Camp, a hip-hop trio based out of East Longmeadow; Mo Schweiger, of Greenfield; and Ailey Verdelle, of Holyoke. New this year is a 'punch card,' which Fieldman said is an initiative to encourage people to see as many Pay it Forward shows as possible. The punch card allows people to buy four or eight tickets at a time to Pay it Forward shows. 'We want audience members to see this more as a series and a collection of works instead of standalone projects, to encourage repeat audience participation,' Fieldman said. What does Fieldman love most about overseeing the program? 'Watching people grow,' the program director said. 'One example I like to give is, last year, the Grotesque Burlesque were a Pay It Forward participant headed by Lex Grotesque. After they sold out their show, they were literally crying, telling me about how they were so happy to not only be able to have paid all of their performers, but also to pay themselves for the work they did,' Fieldman said. 'They would love if they could do this for money, but that's just not the reality of being a performer, especially in this area these days.' Read the original article on MassLive. Solve the daily Crossword
Yahoo
24-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Husband praised for admitting he was ‘clueless' about gender roles in marriage: ‘Men can evolve and see the light'
Maybe it's not too little, too late. A husband took to social media to share his realization of things he did wrong in his marriage of 20 years, specifically regarding gender roles — and the internet is praising him for it. Josh Fisher has posted several videos to TikTok under the series name, 'Chronicles of a Clueless Husband,' where he self-reflects in his car on many of his wrongdoings and shortcomings as a husband. In the first video of the series, Fisher specifically spoke on how he would often channel 'main character energy' in his marriage. 'Early in our marriage, my partner and I say, we'd be going on a trip. My partner, at that point in time, would be doing the laundry, vacuuming the house, making sure the dishes were done,' the middle-aged man explained, which is a scenario so many couples can relate to. 'I would think, 'Well, you don't have to do that, that's you wanting to do that.'' He further explained how his wife would always have a long to-do list of things to get done before their trip — while Fisher nonchalantly packed his bag, grabbed the books he wanted to read while on vacation and would show up 'ready to go on the trip.' Talk about a division of labor. 'Looking back, how could I possibly think that was okay?' the now self-aware man in his 40s empathetically said in his video. Of course, once kids came into the picture for Fisher and his wife, this selfish routine didn't stop — it only got worse. 'I saw my own father do this quite a bit, where he would take care of his own needs, so I know I didn't learn it from nowhere. But I also had to unlearn it,' the husband and father continued. Unfortunately, this warped way of thinking regarding gender roles is common in many marriages — and the thousands of comments on this viral video proved that to be true. 'I assure you I have NEVER done laundry, vacuumed, or washed dishes because I WANTED to.' 'And then he will get mad when you are stressed, overstimulated, short fused.' 'What's my insane takeaway here is that so many men say shit like women 'want' to do all that. Nobody 'wants' to do housework. It just needs to be done to live a healthy life.' Plenty of commenters also praised Fisher for finally taking accountability. 'You have opened your eyes, wonderful.' 'At least you're aware of it now. It's exhausting being the one carrying the mental load.' 'Wonderful to see that men can evolve and see the light. There's a glimmer of hope!' 'Thank you for your vulnerability. It takes a lot of guts to look at yourself and admit your wrongdoings. You are doing the work. Good on you.' Another way to keep the peace in a marriage is by avoiding giving these two specific compliments to your loved one. 'How are you always so calm?' should never be said because it can alter a person's personality. 'When emotional suppression is praised in adult relationships, it reinforces the message that your worth lies in being agreeable and low-maintenance,' psychologist Dr. Mark Travers explained in Psychology Today. The second one is telling your partner: 'You're the only person I can talk to.' According to Travers, this sounds nice, but in reality, it can signal emotional dependency rather than intimacy. 'This diversity in emotional support leads to greater well-being, because no single relationship is overloaded with the task of holding it all,' Travers explained to the outlet. Solve the daily Crossword
Yahoo
14-07-2025
- General
- Yahoo
13 Reasons Sitting Alone With Your Dark Thoughts Is A Bad Idea
It's the thing you never say out loud—you hate being alone with your own mind. The quiet feels suffocating, the stillness unbearable. You reach for your phone, turn on the TV, scroll endlessly—anything to avoid sitting in the raw, unfiltered chaos of your inner world. But why? Here are 13 dark, unspoken reasons you can't stand being alone with your thoughts—and what they're really trying to tell you. Silence strips away distractions and forces you to face the uncomfortable truths you've been trying to outrun. That relationship isn't working. That job is crushing your spirit. That version of yourself you're clinging to isn't real anymore. According to Psychology Today, solitude often reveals the parts of ourselves we're too busy to acknowledge. Being alone with your thoughts forces you to confront the reality you've been avoiding. You numb yourself with scrolling because the truth demands change. Change feels overwhelming, even when necessary. Avoidance becomes a form of survival, not healing. But avoidance only delays the inevitable reckoning. When it's just you and your mind, the voice inside gets louder—and it's rarely kind. It replays every mistake, amplifies your flaws, and whispers that you're falling short. This relentless narrative becomes so ingrained it feels like fact. You stay busy to drown it out because the silence lets it in. Stillness turns into a battleground between who you are and who your critic says you should be. Your inner critic thrives in the quiet where self-compassion fades. You avoid solitude because it magnifies every insecurity. Distraction feels safer, even if it's unhealthy. The silence doesn't create your self-doubt—it exposes it. And that's why you run from it. When you're alone, there's no one to reflect back who you are. No likes, no feedback, no applause to validate your existence. Without external affirmation, you feel hollow and unsure of your worth. Psych Central notes that people who rely heavily on external validation often struggle with identity when left alone. You begin to question who you are when no one's watching. This dependence on others leaves solitude feeling unbearable. Without constant connection, you fear disappearing. You chase validation to feel alive, but it's a temporary fix. True self-worth isn't mirrored—it's built within. Until you believe that, silence will always feel like abandonment. The modern world thrives on constant stimulation—notifications, playlists, headlines—and you've become hooked. Silence feels like withdrawal, and you panic when there's nothing to distract you. You convince yourself you're 'staying informed' or 'keeping busy,' but the truth is you can't bear to sit still. The quiet demands you to feel things you've buried deep. And feeling, to you, feels like drowning. You fill every space with noise to avoid meeting yourself. You tell yourself it's harmless, even necessary. But busyness doesn't heal—it numbs. The fear isn't in the stillness itself but in what it might reveal. Silence forces you to listen, and that terrifies you. When the world quiets, the ghosts come out. The mistakes you made, the people you hurt, the things you left undone—they circle like vultures in the silence. Psychology Today highlights that unresolved guilt resurfaces during solitude, making stillness feel unbearable. It's easier to outrun them with distraction, but they wait just beneath the surface. They thrive in the dark corners you refuse to illuminate. Being alone means confronting the weight of your own regrets. Distraction keeps them buried, but not gone. Avoidance is a bandage, not a cure. The silence asks for accountability, not shame. But until you face them, peace will feel impossible. You can't stand still because stillness feels like failure. If you're not doing, achieving, or producing, you feel worthless—like you're falling behind in a race you can't define. Every moment must be filled, every second accounted for, or your value feels diminished. This belief isn't just draining—it's destructive. It convinces you that rest equals weakness. Productivity became your metric for self-worth. Slowing down feels like surrendering. You fear irrelevance if you're not in motion. But worth isn't measured in output. Until you believe that, the quiet will always feel suffocating. Boredom feels like a void—and you'll do anything to avoid it. The Guardian reports that modern society's obsession with avoiding boredom has become a widespread epidemic, fueled by the constant dopamine hits of technology. Beneath that fear is something deeper: the terror that stillness will expose emptiness. You fear what boredom might reveal about your purpose, your desires, your loneliness. So you keep moving, talking, scrolling, anything but stopping. Stillness feels dangerous because it demands reflection. In boredom's silence, uncomfortable truths whisper louder. You fear that without constant stimulation, you'll unravel. Busyness becomes a shield, not a solution. Until you face the void, peace will remain elusive. Grief has a way of waiting quietly in the corners of your mind. Whether it's a person, a dream, or a former self, loss lingers until you have no choice but to face it. The silence invites those tears you've fought to suppress. In solitude, grief surfaces, raw and unforgiving. And once it starts, you fear you won't be able to stop it. This is why you stay busy, stay loud. Stillness threatens to unearth what you've buried deep. You fear the weight will crush you if you acknowledge it. But grief demands space to heal, not avoidance. Running only prolongs the ache. There's anger in you you've been swallowing for years. Rage at the unfairness, at the betrayals, at the silent disappointments you've tucked away. Admitting it feels dangerous, like lighting a match in a room full of gas. So you keep busy, keep moving, keep pretending you're fine. Stillness lets the fire rise, and you fear its heat. Avoidance feels safer than confrontation. You believe acknowledging it will make you explode. But unspoken anger festers in silence. Running only fuels the burn beneath the surface. Facing it frees you, even if it's uncomfortable. Being alone with your thoughts can feel like being trapped with a stranger you don't trust. You fear what memories might resurface, what emotions might ambush you. So you avoid the quiet, convincing yourself that constant motion is safer. But true emotional safety isn't found in distraction—it's built through facing discomfort and learning resilience. Trusting yourself means sitting with the discomfort without fleeing. The silence won't destroy you, though it feels like it might. Strength is born from staying, not running. Emotional security grows through patience and compassion. Discomfort is temporary; avoidance makes it permanent. Peace lives beyond the fear you're avoiding. Reflection reveals how much is beyond your control—people, circumstances, the future. Acknowledging this powerlessness makes you feel vulnerable, exposed, small. So you keep moving, keep striving, pretending you're steering the ship. Stillness strips away the illusion of control, and that terrifies you. You fear what happens when you finally admit you're not in charge. This truth is hard but liberating. Acceptance softens resistance, invites peace. Fighting it only creates more chaos. Control was never promised, only how you respond. Surrender isn't weakness—it's wisdom. Solitude mirrors back the loneliness you pretend doesn't exist. You tell yourself you're fine, that independence is strength. But the silence whispers the truth you won't say aloud. It reminds you of the connections you crave, the intimacy you miss, the touch you long for. The ache grows louder when there's nothing left to distract you. You avoid it because facing it means admitting vulnerability. But loneliness is part of being human, not a flaw. Ignoring it doesn't make it disappear. Connection starts by acknowledging the need. You can't outrun emptiness forever. Deep down, you've tied your worth to struggle for so long that peace feels like cheating. Rest feels unearned. Stillness feels like laziness. So you sabotage your own calm with noise, busyness, and chaos. You keep moving because you don't believe you deserve to stop. But peace isn't something you earn through exhaustion—it's something you choose through healing. Your worth isn't measured in pain. Stillness isn't a punishment; it's a sanctuary. You don't have to prove your value to deserve rest. You've been worthy of peace all along.
