It’s as though bringing something to your attention just destroys your whole world. Once the pity party has commenced, there’s just no breaking through. Of course, you have recovered from it in practically no time, but we — we Melancholies — have not. The issue is still on the table. There is an imbalance and an injustice until it can be determined, and you acknowledge, that the criticism is valid and that you appreciate it.
Yes, that’s right. You should appreciate it. As Mike Brady once said, “People like being corrected.” We correct you because we love you. It is a gift, an offering of generosity. You should accept it as you would accept a gift made out of gold. We take upon our shoulders the thankless task of putting the world in balance. The very least you could do is cooperate, even if you don’t appreciate it.
On the off-chance that some random Phlegmatic will be edified by this, I thank you on behalf of every Melancholy everywhere. If you will identity yourself, I will even reward you with words of affirmation.
Sure, and I agree. But consider this scenario. Suppose you see someone take down a coffee cup, pause, think better of it, and put the cup back. But when they put it back, they leave it such that the angle of the handle is discernably different from the angles of all the other handles which, of course, are at thirty degrees to the right from dead center. It isn’t just an aesthetics issue either, as that angle affords the most efficient access to each individual cup. Wouldn’t you feel compelled to say something? It isn’t just the balance of the cups. It’s also immensely edifying for the person when they’re told how to do something the right way. They then can belong. They can be a contributor — a facilitator — rather than an obstructionist. That way, it’s happy-happy all around!
Incidentally, you’ve been around a long time. We don’t frequently encounter one another. It’s good to hear from you.
Ok, well I found a free online test and the highest scores I got were 30% Phlegmatic and 30% Sanguine. And in the scenario you outlined if I were the one who had placed the coffee cup incorrectly and you gave your constructive criticism, I would most likely silently turn all of the cups to different angles and leave. I don’t know if that fits the profile for Phlegmatic or Sanguine or what. But I do know that if I want advice I’ll ask.
No, you’re telling them how to do it *your * way, not the *right * way. There is no right or wrong, it’s a preference.
If you were offering advice on something that has a right or wrong way (for example, a comment to someone looking confused at the gas pump as to how to get the pump back into its station) the person might be appreciative but I would hazard a guess that for simple preferences the person getting the advice would not appreciate it nearly as much as you seem to enjoy giving it.
Hmm. I suppose it would depend. If it was someone I live with, I guess I would mention it (if I noticed). Or rather, I’d mention it after fixing it myself a few times. In someone else’s home or a public place I wouldn’t say anything.
I think it has to do with how close I am to the person, and consequently how much consideration I can expect from him.
Thanks! I actually took about a year off, though I’d be truly stunned if anyone noticed …
Even if we stipulate that the cups in and of themselves are unimportant, there remains the issue of the mindset that gives no heed to balance and proper order. It may be only cups this time — and granted, the Meloncholy can correct the wrong after the Phleg has left the room. But what are we to do? Follow behind every one of these disorganized creatures, correcting everything they put askew? I mean, that’s what we attempt to do now. And no one ever thanks us. The task is simply too huge.
Think on a larger scale. After the coffee cups…
Bedspreads with uneven sides
Drapes opened with a larger space in one than the other
Clocks with time-settings different by as much as a minute
Cars pulled into the garage different distances from the doors
[…shudder…] Pictures hanging tilted from vertical
Must I go on? Are these consequences with which you are prepared to live?
But I don’t know how well that sites meshes with what Lib is saying. The site kinda takes an equal but opposite view and Lib seems to regard Phlegmatics as inferior. I feel like I am missing a piece of the puzzle.
ETA: Unless he is being tongue in cheek. Which based on his last post seems rather probable.
But how much of this has to do with temperment, and how much just with … neatness? Is a great craving for orderliness a cornerstone of Melancholy-ness?
I just took some absurdly long temperment quiz. Came up a Melancholic/Phlegmatic (55%/45%). Apparently I’m doomed to forever straighten-up my own misaligned coffee cups.
That’s 'cos the people expected to be appreciative…aren’t. We/they (to a degree I follow both lifestyle choices) who put things askew do so not to twist your nuts, but because we/they don’t really give a shit.
If I have or leave something the way I like it, or it’s something I don’t really care about, and someone comes along and “fixes” it, I’m not going to thank them for doing it the way they want it done. I’m more likely to think they’re an anal-retentive control freak than anything else.
Personally, I truly don’t give a shit about any of that sort of thing. Is your life so carefree that these present major obstacles to you? If so, I envy you, sir.
Welcome to the dark side. Just between you and me, ours is by far the superior temperament. We are the ones who bring order to chaos, who understand everything on a level far deeper than the riff-raff, who shoulder the responsibility for keeping the world on schedule. We do not do this for the accolades, though accolades are deserved. We do this because it would not be right to do otherwise. You know that when you’ve touched that fourth finger twice in a row to your palm that the balance of all finger-touches must then be restored. Otherwise, God only knows what could happen.
I wouldn’t say that they’re inferior. Not per se. They’re just… problematic. They have no sense of the world around them. They just float along on the lilly pads of life, hopping randomly from one to the other with a reckless disregard for order and pattern. Yes, they are laid back and hip. But at what cost to those of us who must tend to what they leave in their wake?
