But on the bright side, I'm done with another book and am hoping to finish a required reading (aka papermaking text) this weekend before settling into an assigned one (Ben's helping w/email prompts and reading suggestions, which I am trying to speed through while he's here, though I have to be working on three other articles simultaneously). This was my favorite quote from the last book:
There are two words whose meanings reflect our somewhat warped attitudes toward levels of commitment to physical or mental activities. These are the terms amateur and dilettante. Nowadays these labels are slightly derogatory. An amateur or a dilettante is someone not quite up to par, a person not to be taken very seriously, one whose performance falls short of professional standards. But originally, "amateur," from the Latin verb amare, "to love," referred to a person who loved what he was doing. Similarly a "dilettante," from the Latin delectare, "to find delight in," was someone who enjoyed a given activity. The earliest meanings of these words therefore drew attention to experiences rather than accomplishments; they described the subjective rewards individuals gained from doing things, instead of focusing on how well they were achieving. Nothing illustrates as clearly our changing attitudes toward the value of experience as the fate of these two words. There was a time when it was admirable to be an amateur poet or a dilettante scientist, because it meant that the quality of life could be improved by engaging in such activities. But increasingly the emphasis has been to value behavior over subjective states; what is admired is success, achievement, the quality of performance rather than the quality of experience. Consequently it has become embarrassing to be called a dilettante, even though to be a dilettante is to achieve what counts most--the enjoyment one's actions provide.I know there are light and dark sides to everything, including the dangers of rabid amateurs (like dentists who are history buffs who think they are entitled to dictate the content of student textbooks while driven by very clear ulterior motives). But I still remember learning the real meaning of "professional." It's getting paid to so something, but has nothing to do with how you actually behave. After I figured that out, I lost interest in being a professional anything.
--Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Flow