Sunday, July 16, 2006

NOSE JOB

My entire life I have had this problem. I came by it honestly; it's in my DNA. My father has it. My mother has it. From time to time, I see glimpses that suggest I have passed it on to at least one of my children. Is it psoriasis? No. The consumption? No. An overdeveloped sense of moral legalism? Hell no. Dyslexia? On. Body odor? Ew. Liberalism? Eh. A taste for Russian vodka? Nyet. Surrealism? The fish. No, it's none of these.

I have the pokey nose. I am predisposed to poking my nose into things that are none of my damn business.

Most people suffer from the opposite disorder: snub nose. Most people--or at least many people--live life afraid to get involved, fearful of the risks and dangers of drawing fire or attracting responsibility, inspiring an apathetic monotony in their lives. Or, maybe most people just live with an intelligent dose of wisdom that prevents them from enduring a lifetime of grief. They go about their business with noses tucked neatly into their own affairs. I, on the other hand, don't have enough of my own problems; so I create more by meddling. It comes in handy when someone is being dealt an injustice, or there is a need for bold or decisive action. But, most of the time there is no Bat signal beckoning me, no need for a superhero. Too much of the time, I just make trouble for myself.

The symptoms of nose-pokism may include -

1) using phrases like:
"My advice is..."
"I know you didn't ask for it, but my thoughts on the matter are..."
"I couldn't help but overhear..."
"What she needs to do is..."

2) an overdeveloped sense of obligation to be "my brother's keeper."

3) an abundance of expectations and responsibilities, because everyone is happy to let pokey-nose do it, if he is going to act like he knows everything.

4) less serving of others, and more doing for others. (They are not the same.)

5) a prevailing sense of guilt if you are not solving everyone's problems.

If you experience two or more of these symptoms, you may choose to follow my lead (I'm not trying to tell you what to do...really). I have resolved to do something about my nasal aggression. Eventually it may take the influence of prescription medication, but for now I am attempting to change through mindful behavior modification, a bit of a rhetorical rhinoplasty. My nose job does not require a retreat from active involvement in relationships: the world does not need another passive spectator paralyzed by relational inertia. But it does require that my default settings change from heedless action to a more reflective method of existence.

For instance, some neighbors of ours are thinking about moving. I don't want them to move. I heard a rumor about a great house on our street being remodeled, potentially for resale. It would be perfect for them. The old me would rush over the neighbor's house to give them the news and try to broker the deal. Make it happen. It is likely that the rumor would have turned out to be false, the neighbors would have resented me for putting them in an awkward position, and getting their hopes up. The owner of the house would have been a little put out that I was prying into their business, and, apparently wishing they would move away, etc., etc.

The new me--with the nose job--recogizes that it's none of his business, and further sees the wisdom in filtering out those times when intervention is not useful or important.

I suppose my absence from the blog lately has been motivated partly by this newly developed desire for self-censorship, and an effort to measure out my talk in more deliberate doses. Bad news for blog readers, I know. Our culture, particularly blogging communities, draw their life from nose-pokers. I realize that were it not for the pokers, most of us would just have to sit at our desks and get work done. Well, have no fear: I am not going away, and I am NOT turning into a coward, unwilling to speak his own peculiar brand of truth to power, or unwilling to comment on a heretofore overlooked phenomenon. I'm not going to become a humorless, passionless dullard. I'm not giving up blogging for knitting any time soon (even though knitting is very cool right now), I'm just going to work harder to recognize those moments when my intervention, my advocacy, my creativity, or my criticism may be useful. Otherwise, I'm going to shut up. Don't want to be no Cyrano.


I owe thanks to my wife and our friend Sarah for working out some of these thoughts with me. If you are ever in Portland, Oregon, you need to go to Sarah's chocolate shop.

10 comments:

RDW said...

Ah yes... a wife. The best nose job a poker ever got.

I have nothing substantive to say. I just wanted to butt in and be the first commenter on this blog. So here I am. Commenter number one.

Is there such a thing as a butt job?

Anonymous said...

Where were you when I was spending far too much / not enough money on therapy and addressing this very issue? Sheesh.

I learned that the best thing for a pokey nose is to become a journalist. Then you get paid for digging around in other people's business. Of course, by "paid," I mean receiving a lifetime supply of rotten tomatoes.

By the way, looks like I'm moving to your town. Assuming I find housing that doesn't look like it will chew me into tiny, mushy pieces.

Anonymous said...

I hope that your new perspective revitalizes you and gives you the results you're after. It can be exhausting doing all for all. One struggles to not lose heart. Of course, I find the micro easier to manage than the macro...but it doesn't necessarily resolve my restlessness of spirit. Anywho...it's only life after all...we can only follow the cairns...to be the first one free.

Anonymous said...

You know I cruise up and down your street looking for a house all the time, don't you? Did the rumor mention that they wanted to sell for a ridiculously low price? That would be sweet. MMMMMMMMMMM.

Hey Jeff.

Anonymous said...

Jay,

Funny story. The rumor wasn't true. Ha. Well-played, if I do say so myself.

Jeff,

What are you, a gypsy scholar?

Jen,

Apparently, there will be a house for sale near us real soon.

Coreman,

Wouldn't it be cool if your name started with J?

Anonymous said...

Sometimes people are gifted with the ability to be nosey. While some may view it as a spiritual gift from the "dark side," I see it as a prophetic voice from the non-dark side.

You are familiar with what happened to Jonah when he decided he didn't want to stick his nose (or any other body part for that matter) into Nineveh, are you not? My point is this, nose-sticking is simply a matter of perspective. Most of the folks to whom Jeremiah, Elijah, Jonah, et al, spoke would have felt they (them there prophets) were just being nosey, when, in fact, they were speaking for God.

So, I guess it is not so much a matter of nose-sticking, but a matter of whose nose you happen to be sticking into other people's business. If it's yours, perhaps a rhinoplasty is in order. If it is God's nose you are sticking in, maybe an "other-people's-business-plasty" is in order.

Then again, maybe you're just a holy booger.

Anonymous said...

"j"oreman, they offer PAXIL. If it weren't for that miracle drug, I'd be on OCD rampages 90% more than I am currently =0)

Reacher, put a rumor out that I'm paying top dollar for houses. No, wait, I'm a journalist. . . they'll never believe that.

Anonymous said...

But see, if everyone else was just as smart and insightful as we pokey folks are, we wouldn't have to solve their problems for them all the time. It's not us, it's them.

Sheesh.

Anonymous said...

The neighbors are so aghast that you picked this instance to mind your own. Was it a great house? Did it have room for unborn children? Was it a house payment that wouldn't cause stomach pains?

Well-written blog and all but I like you better as a meddler.

PS: If it's not too late on the house, please stick your nose in our world soon.

Anonymous said...

Should I change my handle from Reacher to Meddler? Hmm.

Yeah, everyone loves the Meddler, until he meddles in the wrong stuff at the wrong time. It's a dangerous and fulfilling avocation.

So, it turns out that the house rumor was untrue, Stacy. KK is apparently fixing it up to move back in himself. At least, that's the rumor!

I am growing tired of the meddling, but if can ever be of help to you or your unborns, I'll stick my nose where angels fear to tread.