Sunday, March 13, 2016

How the X Factor Makes Me a Better Person

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The following is a guest post from a good friend of mine, Keith Clarke.

Like me he’s a Limey so I apologize for his outrageous use of the letter ‘s’ in words where he should have used a ‘z’ – bloody Brits.

I’d recommend you click on the link in his bio and go and grab a copy of his ebook ‘Gen X Marks The Spot: How To Be The Hero In Your Own Story”. I’ve read it and it’s really rather very good.

How the X Factor Makes Me a Better Person

I’ll be nice. I detest the X Factor.

It’s the false sincerity, the encouraged and sought out humiliation, and the force-feeding of old and repetitive mainstream only paint-by-numbers music, for starters.

From a musical standpoint it isn’t my cup of tea. Nor is it any other kind of refreshing beverage.

I grew up as one of those pompous and overly precious musicians that looked down his nose at anything that wasn’t real music. But you probably guessed that already.

My daughter on the other hand has fervently watched the ‘X Factor’ for years. She enjoys the entertainment of it.

Make It Happen

I realised many years ago that if you want to have quality time with the people you love, you have to make it happen.

Life is a steamroller that mercilessly flattens good intentions and wishes if you don’t ruthlessly demarcate and make a space for things to happen. Our life really is made up of the choices we make.

In order to make this happen with my children I agreed that they would each get a special hour with me every week, where they get to choose whatever it is that we do for that hour (both are now teenagers and the tradition continues).

This hour has seen me engage in activities that otherwise would be as welcome as Volkswagen at an environmentalist convention.

One such experience, to make a point, was watching the full One Direction movie from start to finish (my night terrors have now stopped and I think I have made a full recovery, fingers crossed).

An hour may not seem like a lot, but this started at a time when I was working a job full time, going to college two nights a week, and studying for my degree in the time in between: and this was over a four year period.

What this did do was set a tradition.

Those hours these days often turn into two or three, or on occasions it can be a whole evening or even a weekend.

The X Factor

I knew it was coming, but I was helpless to do anything. She asked in that voice, with that look that only a daughter can give a father, “Daddy, for my hour this week, can we watch the X Factor?

Like a deer frozen in the headlights of a rambunctious driver with his taste buds intent on a venison dinner, I accepted my fate.

When I sat down for that first show, at first I resisted. What would people think?! What do I think? This is going to be torture. My mind raced.

I refused to allow myself to see any good in it, because if I did that wouldn’t fit with the story of who I am. I may stray into poor musical taste or judgement. I wasn’t one of those people!

After the first few episodes (it was never, ever only going to be one, was it?) I realised what ‘The Borg’ from Star Trek meant when they stated with absolute conviction, “resistance is futile”.

But it wasn’t the music or the show that changed me. It was my daughter.

We were having conversations. Not transactional parent-child conversations, but real engaging adult conversation.

When she talked about the music and the people in the show, contestants and judges alike, she was telling me so much more than her thoughts and opinions on the show.

She was telling me who she was, what she cared about, and what interested her in her life. And she would excitedly text me results to continue that shared experience even when I wasn’t with her.

These days, my resistance a distant memory, I sit and watch it with her and we discuss it, on its merits. I don’t try to change her mind, and there is no endeavoring to persuade, cajole, or to redirect her musical tastes.

That is telling her she is wrong and I am right, that my way is better. It would be invalidating. All because of a stupid TV show.

What Truly Matters

What isn’t stupid is the time I have with my daughter. She is growing up. I won’t always have the chance to sit on the couch with her in the way I can now.

I am interested in what she is interested in because of how I feel about her. It’s not about me changing her to fit my tastes. It’s about me accepting her for exactly who she is.

You see, what is important in these dedicated pieces of time isn’t what we are doing.

Getting hung up on the activity and our story of what we like or don’t like is the great obstacle to connection.

One of the things I embrace as I get older is the realisation that letting things fall away – those intangible and subjective beliefs I cling to – only increases the possibility of making, growing, and retaining rich connections.

It’s the same with your children, your partner of choice, and your closest friends. It’s not about rolling your eyes or looking down on what they do.

It’s sharing their experience, for them, and for you. It’s about spending the time with them and immersing yourself in those moments.

Two Important Factors

So I constantly remind myself that it is the time that is important and who I am with. Those two factors are what matter most, with the activity being merely the vehicle to allow meaningful experiences to happen.

The first step is to make the time.

Life gets in the way. Stuff happens so quickly that you can find yourself being so busy you never really stop, breathe, and look at a loved one and really see them. It’s about realising that you get caught up.

And that’s where making the time comes in. It takes the pressure off trying to remember and it avoids the mental self-flagellation that follows the realisation you haven’t spent any quality time with the people you love. And it sends a message that a person matters.

I know that in a few years my kids are both likely to be off at college or travelling or doing something that doesn’t see them spending the time with me that they do now.

There will be a day when I would gladly sit through a hundred One Direction movies with them. Thankfully, at this stage my daughter would prefer to spend our time watching American Horror Story than the X Factor.

The second step is to use differences in likes to better understand people. Learning what my daughter enjoyed about X Factor helped me to get to know her better. I

t helped open doors for other conversations. If you want to have conversations with people about deeper matters, they are always easier to have if you are already talking: whatever you are talking about.

You Lose Nothing

I’ve realised that watching the X factor doesn’t contaminate me (caveat – I still wouldn’t risk this alone, I believe my daughter acts as a vaccine).

I still retain my free will and my pristine and carefully nurtured musical taste remains untainted (my pompousness and overly precious judgement of all the worlds music is still intact, too).

In those moments when I watched X Factor with my daughter, I lost nothing. Instead I gained more than any piece of music or TV show could ever give me alone: a stronger bond with what really matters, a realisation that it is more important to focus on the person I am with than what we are doing, and a greater understanding of my daughter.

What activities have you been avoiding with loved ones that you could use to connect more? Let me know in the comments below.

Authors Bio

Keith works with fellow members of Generation X helping them get the most out of their relationships and careers. He is a Certified Business & Life Coach and lives in Ireland. He is the proud father of two teenagers and he sings and plays guitar in his band in his spare time.

You can learn more about Keith at www.lifecoachx.com 

 

 

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