Thinking what’s the point of being afraid of criticism. They’ll do it no matter what. (Might as well get back my time.)
Criticism is one of the most peculiar inventions of human kind. It’s inescapable; it’s everywhere and everything’s a target. Only three people in the world at any given time don’t indulge in it (yes, that’s a guess). Even lovely, perfect people succumb, although they do it in their lovely, perfect way.
No matter how much I turn it over and spin it around (and I’ve done a lot of that, in the spirit of highly pseudo-scientific inquiry) , I can NOT think how it’s endured. If I don’t count ‘formal’ criticism – the kind that’s intended to improve performance and skills, with the express goal of development and refinement and betterment, then it’s not that useful, except as a way to announce our superiority in taste and style and intellect.
Oh. That might be the secret.
At any rate, there’s no escaping it. (If you’ve found a way that doesn’t involve a mountain top retreat or collecting seashells in the Seychelles, neither of which sound too bad but are not in the budget. I’d like to hear it). I’ve met a few people online who are doing their damnedest, refusing to even acknowledge it and creating a space where only love and adoration and hugs are allowed. I wish them well, but I had to wander away from the oppressive, almost desperate sugar.
See? Criticism. Barely concealed. It seems like avoiding all criticism is the flip side of the same coin and impossible to sustain. It reads like it’s motivated by a kind of fear of criticism – which turns criticism into a looming shadow that might pounce at any second.
Maybe the best we can do is accept it. Accept that it will happen and then practice thinking: so what? So. What. Really. How about a little focus on what’s good and right and shiny about us?
And if we can’t do that for others, can we at least do that for ourselves?