Defrag Blues June 11 – August 21 2023

You know those dreams you have where you are back at school. Problem is that in the dreams you are your current age but have the insecurities and negative emotions that impacted you back then, this can be significantly disorienting as well as pretty confusing. Learning is essential for development, knowledge can give you power and help develop skills. The road to knowledge can be fraught with disappointment, occasional humiliation and failure. Dreams like this are like the gossamer of perfume, the smell lingers after the substance is gone.

What’s all of this got to do with anything? Well, I’m trying to knit together a meaningful and interesting beginning to a blogpost on my aversion to formal learning. I have a really inconsistent attitude toward formal education, although I love learning and I also seriously enjoy learning new skills but unfortunately usually the basics are enough to get me moving and getting results. That is both good and bad. Oh, and I can’t tolerate being tested or examined. Why do I say unfortunate? Well it’s like a joke I heard the other day, “You would make a great torturer but you are far too impatient”. Whether this impediment is a fear of failure or simply just vanity is open to question. But it’s a real thing for me.

I am secretly happy with my somewhat flawed logic although it has cost me during my life. On the other hand my clumsy method of learning has served me quite well and given me enough understanding of the basics of history, geography, art, philosophy, general knowledge, politics, religion, health, cooking, design, musical knowledge and skill to have a decent conversation with just about anybody on most subjects and to be relatively capable in many areas of life.

Underlying everything is that I simply want to get results without necessarily getting into all of the finer or technical details of any given subject. If I can make something work and get some sort of desirable result then that’s enough. I also suppose that I don’t want to be potentially humiliated or made to feel unnecessarily vulnerable or stupid.

If somebody asked me when this pattern first appeared I would go straight to early 1963, a whopping 60 years ago, when I was at the sensitive age of 11. It was during my final months at Toorak Central School just before our family was uprooted and moved to the deep suburbs, I was in Form 1. We had an art teacher who went by the name of Miss Cooper, she looked like she spent her weekends driving through the  ritzy backstreets of Toorak holding up a glass of champagne in a green M.G, very posh. As far as the rumours went she was having a relationship with a handsome one armed teacher who might have made it into a James Bond movie if he didn’t lack a limb. The gist of the story is that she had submitted paintings by all of her students into the Herald Sun Art competition of 1963. I have never fully put 2 and 2 together in regard to this before, totally forgetting that I had a deep love of drawing, calligraphy and l also had a secret profound but naive desire to become a “commercial artist”. My painting came 2nd in the Victorian under 12 category, all I can recall now after all this time is that it had a couple of clowns in it and wasn’t very large. I was as surprised as anybody that I had received this acknowledgement, not that it really mattered to anybody else apart from me at the time. I secretly felt proud of myself but at the same time had no idea what merits had stood out to get my painting chosen. All of that is fine and well. What happened next was what caused a profound effect on my creative future. I’d be lying if I said that I could remember Miss Cooper’s exact words but I can tell you with certainty that they were spiteful and bitter. The gist was “ Oh Collier, I have no idea what the judges saw in your painting!”. Whatever she said stabbed me through my fragile heart and shattered whatever happiness and pride that I had gleaned from my unintentional win. Even now, all of these years later I can feel a foreboding feeling of self doubt.

Back in the 1950s the Education Department in Victoria had a strange practise where they would randomly skip a whole year for selected students. I was one of these anomalies. Not only did I start school on my 5^th birthday but I also skipped Grade 1 which made me 6 as I entered Grade 2. I was so young by Grade 5 that I became the captain of the Grade 4 tunnel ball team! If I could get into a time machine now and return to 1958 I would advise my dear unwitting parents not to accept this seemingly prestigious offer for me to skip a whole year. The effects were socially devastating. From there forward I had to secretly prove a point to myself although I didn’t look at it like that back then.

The bottom line is that this was effectively the end of my formal learning. I wafted into my new high school, almost 2 years younger than most of my classmates and remained as invisible as possible. As a student I became anonymous.

Whether this is the true reason for my aversion to formal group education or even online courses could be open to question. I do know that it’s a thing for me.

None of this means that I don’t love learning about whatever takes my whim. I love finding out new bits of data. I love it when I learn something new and it slots in with some earlier knowledge broadening my understanding. I love not planning what I learn but just unwittingly coming across random bits of information that appeal to me at the time. I proved to myself that I can get serious about learning when I got a cancer diagnosis 2 and a half years ago. I dug in and pushed my boundaries to learn enough so I could take responsibility for my condition and effectively do something about it.  I don’t have cancer anymore by the way.

I am good enough at a lot of things to get by.

Unraveling the Roots of My Discontent with Formal Learning

Have you ever had a dream where you find yourself back in school, but with the same insecurities and negative emotions that plagued you in the past? It can be disorienting and confusing, leaving a lasting impression even after waking up. Learning is undeniably crucial for personal development, as it equips us with knowledge and helps us acquire new skills. However, the journey towards knowledge can be fraught with disappointments, occasional humiliation, and failure. These dreams serve as lingering reminders of the impact these experiences had on us, much like the faint scent of perfume that remains when the substance itself is long gone. A Love-Hate Relationship with Formal Education : I find myself having an inconsistent attitude towards formal education. While I genuinely love learning and thoroughly enjoy acquiring new skills, I often find that mastering the basics is sufficient to propel me forward and achieve results. This approach has both its merits and drawbacks. Unfortunately, I struggle with being tested or examined. Is this aversion rooted in a fear of failure or perhaps mere vanity? It remains an open question, but it is a genuine challenge for me. The Comfort of Imperfect Logic : Despite its flaws, I secretly appreciate my somewhat flawed logic, although it has come at a cost in my life. On the other hand, my unrefined method of learning has served me well, providing me with enough foundational knowledge in various subjects such as history, geography, art, philosophy, general knowledge, politics, religion, health, cooking, design, and music. This broad understanding enables me to engage in meaningful conversations with people from diverse backgrounds and be relatively competent in various aspects of life. Results-Oriented Approach : At the core of my learning philosophy is a strong desire to achieve results without delving into the intricate technicalities of any given subject. If I can make something work and attain desirable outcomes, that’s usually enough for me. Additionally, I prefer to avoid situations that might potentially humiliate me or make me feel unnecessarily vulnerable or inadequate. The Turning Point : When reflecting on when this pattern of aversion to formal learning first emerged, I invariably go back to early 1963, a whopping 60 years ago, when I was just 11 years old. It was during my final months at Toorak Central School before my family relocated to the outskirts of town. At the time, I was in Form 1. Our art teacher, Miss Cooper, was an intriguing figure who exuded an air of sophistication. Rumours circulated that she was involved with a charismatic one-armed teacher who could have been cast in a James Bond movie if not for his missing limb. Unbeknownst to me, I had a deep passion for drawing and calligraphy, harbouring a naive desire to become a “commercial artist.” Miss Cooper submitted paintings from all her students to the Herald Sun Art competition of 1963. To my surprise, my painting earned second place in the Victorian under 12 category. While the significance of this achievement may have been lost on others, it held great importance for me. Yet, any joy and pride I felt were shattered when Miss Cooper, with spiteful and bitter words I can no longer recall precisely, expressed her disbelief in the judges’ decision. Her comments pierced my fragile heart and left me with a lingering sense of self-doubt that persists even after all these years. The Social Consequences of Skipping a Grade : In the 1950s, the Victorian Education Department had a peculiar practice of randomly allowing selected students to skip an entire year. I was one of these anomalies. Starting school onA  my fifth birthday and skipping Grade 1, I found myself entering Grade 2 as a six-year-old. Being significantly younger than my classmates throughout my school years had a profound social impact. From that point onward, I felt the need to prove myself quietly, even though I wasn’t fully aware of it at the time.

Conclusion :

This early experience marked the beginning of my disconnection from formal education. I entered high school, nearly two years younger than my peers, and chose to remain as invisible as possible. As a student, I became anonymous, and this may have contributed to my aversion towards group learning, including online courses. While the true reason behind my discomfort with these forms of education remains uncertain, what I do know is that it is a significant aspect of my life.

However, none of this means that I do not enjoy learning. On the contrary, I find great pleasure in exploring various topics that pique my interest. I relish the excitement of discovering new information and how it intertwines with my existing knowledge, expanding my understanding of the world. When faced with a cancer diagnosis two and a half years ago, I harnessed my ability to dive deep into learning, empowering myself to take control of my condition and take decisive action. As a result, I can proudly say that I am cancer-free today.

While my approach may be flawed, I have found that I am adept enough in many areas to navigate through life successfully. I embrace the journey of acquiring knowledge and skills, often sidestepping the intricate details to focus on achieving tangible results. Perhaps it is my desire to shield myself from potential humiliation or unnecessary vulnerability that influences this approach.

In the end, my aversion to formal education is entangled with my past experiences, from the cutting words of an art teacher to the social challenges of skipping a grade. Nevertheless, my love for learning remains undiminished. I am content with my unique path of self-guided exploration, embracing the joy of stumbling upon new knowledge and skill sets. It is through this individualistic pursuit that I continue to grow, evolve, and engage with the world around me.

Letter to Rachel

Hello Dear Rachel It’s nice to be back in touch with each other after our respective trips to far off places. You were so brave heading off to South Africa, our biggest problem/challenge was working out where to go to enjoy ourselves away from tourists and cooking our own meals, we ended up doing a pretty good job at both. 

Re my teeth, I’ve been wanting to do some implants (rear) for 15 years now and my darling mother in law has offered to help me out financially which makes it possible. I’m doing what I can to support my immune system so it can do it’s job to repair the trauma from the implants. So far, so good.

I’ve been writing my blog every day. Love finding out what’s going to come up each day. We have about 10 weeks in Melbourne and then we are off to Bali again for 2 months.

Your course looks super fabulous and I know from our talks that it would be highly beneficial for me but my financial situation at the moment just ain’t up to scratch so I’ll have to pass this time. I did a bit of goal setting this morning and realized that I have never really set a personal goal to “have money” so I’ve integrated that into my overall strategy.

I’d love to stay in touch when we both have time. So arrivaderci for now. Talk soon. Gary