Every generation is more entitled than the previous one. Why? Let me explain...
If appreciative is the opposite of entitled... does that mean that all those people who are not appreciative are entitled?
Entitled 1 is a worldview. It is a ground-of-being phenomenon, invisible, like the floor. An unexamined truth. To you. But for the other, it is quite obvious... 2
So how do you know that you are not appreciative? that you are entitled?
This is how:
Even when you thank someone, they frown...
You may even be diligent in thanking someone, you may even feel a stab of thankfulness, but those thanks are the waves on the waters, not the bottom of the sea... The bottom of your sea is entitlement.
I am re-reading one of my favorite fiction books, Reamde by Neal Stephenson.
The book is slower than it was the first time. I saw only about 5% of it for the first time... But who I am and what I can see have changed subtly... I have two distinctions that I didn't have when I first read it. I'll share those two distinctions.
There are two characters in the book that manifest those two distinctions, Zula and Sokolov.
Honoring the timeless, what will never change... is one of the distinctions, and spending no, or only little time thinking of themselves.
Now, why these characters in a novel are worth reading is this: the normal person is not like them. They are someone to model after.
I should be doing some laundry. I have run out of socks... And anyways, I want to tame this beast of not doing my laundry.
I gather a load's worth of stuff, carry it to the washing machine... and the distaste, the disgust is so strong... I take a beeline... and sit down by my computer.
Distaste, eh? Yeah, says muscle test. Disgust? yes. Was it always there? No. Was it from when i was 3? later... from age seven.
What was happening at age seven? I went to school. We had a live-in help: my mother was working on her Masters Degree, coming home around nine every night. My brother was about a year old... and was probably driving the live-in help bonkers.
And I recoil from dirty laundry...
I sit really quietly. The fear joins the distaste. I feel terror. I feel being beaten. Screamed at. Wrapped in wet sheets... Can't breathe...
I must have wet my bed. I don't remember. My body remembers. The fear, the disgust, the gagging.
I have one student who actually is doing the work the way the work was meant to be done.
It sounds meager... but it is all I ever wanted... really.
If you have one student who actually does what you teach, you can tell if what you teach works or not. Or tweak what you teach to accommodate the difficulties they experience. And watch if the changes you made will make the results match what you intended to accomplish.
What do the rest of the people do? I mean the students in the same program? I am not sure. Apple polishing? Feeble attempts to fake me?
Humans live this fake, apple polishing lives, thinking that life should respond to their feeble attempts, to their intention, to their desire, or whatever the heck they were taught should change reality to what they want reality to be.