Better Ways to Build Character

Last week, as I slowly started to climb out of a week-long depression, I resolved to write a blog post on things that are better ways to develop as a person than making myself miserable.  I thought I might mention some of the following, even though I have written posts on some of them before:

Keeping in touch with friends has been possibly the most worthwhile thing I’ve done during lockdown, as I scheduled times for phoning friends – and, more importantly, reminded myself to listen to them and not just talk.  Admittedly, I don’t always do this – but one great advantage of friendship over therapy is that if I’ve been ranting to a friend about something that bothers me, I can phone back later when I’ve calmed down and say, ‘Sorry about that.  Now, how are you?  What have you been doing lately?’

Keeping in touch with friends who are unresponsive is harder.  Since 2003, I have been a volunteer for Human Writes, a charity that finds pen-pals for lonely Death Row prisoners in America.  Walt, my pen-pal from 2003 until he was finally acquitted and released in 2020, often went through phases of not writing, either because he didn’t have a working typewriter, was busy working on proving his innocence, or was just too depressed to write – but he needed reminders that the outside world was continuing, so I went on writing.

Making things exercises the imagination – and oddly, I find that fanfiction does this best.  When I write original fiction, whether the main character is a fourteen-year-old girl or a were-dragon,  they wind up being self-inserts.  Writing fanfiction, perhaps inspired by Twelfth Night or Harry Potter or the Vorkosigan saga, forces me to focus on how a different person might think, feel, and behave.

Mending things is another way to be creative, and a reminder that things – and people – don’t have to be brand-new and pristine to be interesting and worth having.  Living in the country, many of my clothes have suffered rips from brambles or barbed wire, and needed to be treated with jeans therapy, or even jeans splicing.

Clothing manufacturers have tried to start a trend for artistically pre-ripped jeans (which fall to pieces faster, hence need replacing sooner).  Maybe we should fight consumerism by establishing a trend for artistically home-patched clothes, as our garments are honourably wounded in our service.

Learning something for the sake of learning it  One advantage of growing up is that learning is worth doing because the world is interesting, not to pass an exam.  Where once I had to do my recorder practice because the music teacher would check whether I’d learnt to play E flat, or had to revise German because I was trying to pass my GCSE, now I practise playing hymns on my recorder because I find it spiritually helpful, or read German fantasy novels because I want to enjoy the story.

Experiencing a book or music from an artist or genre that you’re not familiar with  Since the first lockdown, PDB11 and I started shopping for our neighbour, Doom Metal Singer, and hanging out with her outside her caravan for coffee and a chat.  Now that she’s fully vaccinated, and catching the bus to Wells to work at the Wells Museum and doing her grocery shopping on the same trip, I go round just to chat – and these days, she can invite me into her caravan to listen to CDs of some of the different bands that she has been in, and written songs for, over the years.

Appreciating the natural world  Every year, there is something new to notice, and this year, I am thankful to Doom Metal Singer for letting me watch the tadpoles in her pond.  I have spent more time appreciating tadpoles this year than any spring/summer in the past.  I notice how, instead of just being black blobs with tails, they are dark brown with golden flecks on top, with a lighter, mottled belly, and I can see their eyes. 

Another thing I’ve noticed for the first time this year is elm-seed.  I had taken it for granted that Dutch Elm disease was killing most of the elms before they grew old enough to reproduce.  But back in May, following a sharp April frost, PDB11 and I noticed elm-seeds fallen on the path. 

This wasn’t exactly good news for those particular seeds, but it has made me realise how many mature, fertile elms have survived, and how much seed is still in their branches.  

Walking is usually helpful.  Doing grocery shopping on foot where appropriate, to avoid unnecessary car use, teaches patience and commitment, especially when plodding uphill with a heavy rucksack. 

Exploring the countryside with a friend builds the friendship and educates us, as we point out to each other what we have noticed, whether elm-seed, an interesting bird in the sky, or a fallen tree that looks like a dragon.

The downside of walking with a companion is that I tend to fall into child-mode, letting the other person choose the route.  So, more than a year into the coronavirus pandemic, after being vaccinated twice, this week I decided to resume the project which I had briefly started in March last year of exploring more of Somerset on my own.  I wanted to write a post discussing the wonders of Ordnance Survey maps, and the way that solitary walking teaches self-reliance, self-confidence, and persistence.

Unfortunately, exercise, like meditation, giving up caffeine, and other things that are usually healthy, can have some bizarre side-effects on me.  I enjoyed doing a week-long sponsored walk in 2018, but by the end of it, when PDB11 and I were due to go off on holiday, my blood sugar was knocked way off-balance and I was in a miserable mood, which meant that the holiday didn’t get off to a good start.  Last Friday’s walk had a similar effect.

All the same, I don’t want to give up.  I want to keep on going for walks – not every day, but from time to time – until my body no longer reacts with shock.  And while it does, my mind needs to learn to recognise when my hormonal imbalance is messing around with my emotions, and not to take them too seriously.