Wednesday January 4, 2012
An attitude of gratitude
By NITHYA SIDHHU
Exploring words that end in ‘ude’.
IT was Aristotle who said that it is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.
Since Socrates taught Plato and Plato taught Aristotle, I wonder whether Aristotle came up with this maxim after having to listen too often to Plato’s platitudes that his ideas were the best? (I’m just joking, of course)
Anyway, my good old 5th edition Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary defines “platitude” as “a remark or statement that has been used too often in similar situations to be interesting”.
In other words, you could actually be called a “nag” if you repeatedly used the same platitudes.
Funny thing is, I like the sound of the word “platitude” just as much as I like the words “attitude, attribute, aptitude and altitude”.
All these words that end in “ude” certainly have their own distinction. Did you know that you can even put them all together, for instance, and still get them to make sense?
I like the fellow who came up with the following advice: “It takes the right aptitude, attributes and attitude to get you altitude in life.”
Truly, if one did not have the right way of looking at situations (attitude), admirable qualities of character or personality (attributes) or polished skills or natural ability (aptitude), how far could one expect to rise or what heights (altitude) could one expect to achieve?
Personally, I discovered years ago that if I wanted to be successful in life or at work, it did not matter which geographical longitude or latitude my family was located at or what the vicissitudes (fluctuations) of my daily life were. What mattered more was how I chose to look at events, circumstances and changes that buffeted my world.
I learned the value of gracious behaviour simply because it was the better way. In dealing with human relations, I chose, consciously, neither to be too much of a prude nor a person who was rude or crude.
This worked in my favour. As Ralph Waldo Emerson put it:
“What lies behind us,
And what lies before us,
Are tiny matters.
Compared to what lies within us.”
Even though I was merely in my 20s then and could easily have sounded out the platitude that I was overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of my responsibilities as a teacher, wife and mother, I knew with certitude even then that Emerson’s words were true.
My own father always believed that it is one’s inner fortitude that makes the difference between a person who succeeds and the one who doesn’t. He had a commanding nature, and he would often remind us that the strength you have inside does not come by practising lassitude or having a laid-back attitude towards tasks and responsibilities. He, for one, really worked us hard!
The way he brought us up certainly worked to denude me of any vision of being a rich man’s wife who could laze about doing nothing all day long.
I grew up instead to be a very focused individual with the attitude of an achiever. There was never an air of decrepitude about me or in the way I attacked tasks. At work, I did not let any conniving or selfish colleague occlude my vision. I knew I wanted to be respected as a true professional and I worked on my mission with exactitude and single-minded purpose.
I read good books and yes, I did seek the wisdom of those who were more knowledgeable and experienced than me. The only thing that has crippled me in my life has been my struggle with chronic nerve and back pain.
Yet, even with this, every painful interlude served only to teach me the power of contemplation in solitude. At first, I kept my pain hidden and did not let it obtrude on the life of my two daughters. Later, I realised that it brought more succour to them when they knew of my struggle. When I opened up to them, I found their moral and emotional support invaluable.
When I was first debilitated by pain, I used to ask “Why me? Why this? Why now?” but I soon realised that God gives, to each of us, a certain measure of strife and struggle. He does not exclude any man from this delivery. Like metal, we all need fire to bring out the best in us.
To become a person of true moral rectitude, I knew I too had to go through my own share of difficulty. I had to learn first, the prayer of gratitude before I could venture forth and teach well the children of others. If I was not thankful for what God had given me, how could I teach them to be grateful for their own gifts and abilities, no matter how scanty they were?
I must include, at this juncture, this fact. I learned a lot from the people who filled my life, and these included my family members, friends and even, my students.
In my conversations with close friends, for instance, I could not just allude to a bitter experience I had had. Neither did they like me to elude their burning questions. In my interaction with them, I could not preclude myself from being the object of their scrutiny and observation.
There were times, I could not even collude with my inner self to keep my episodes of personal pain and struggle a secret from them. Friendship thrives when sincerity and emotional support walk hand in hand.
Yet, through this mutual journey of interaction, bonding and learning, I grew as a person. Today, I won’t be wrong if I conclude that I am who I am due to the multitude of experiences I have had in my life.
As a mature adult, there is no disquietude in my heart because I know that even if I make a mistake, I can still make forgiveness as part of my spiritual evolution. For now, my most powerful prayer is that of gratitude.
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