... Firstly as far as questions you find in research- these (if done properly) are from scientifically proven questionaires. In other words you have to use them so that your results have some credibility when publishing the material.
Wait ... so, you're saying that the questions on the questionnaire are
themselves derived from yet
another questionnaire? And where pray tell do
those questionnaires come from -
other questionnaires?!?
I feel like I'm falling up an Escher staircase here ...
Who made the
first questionnaire? I realize this may be treading upon theological grounds, but ...there
must have been a point of origin ... was it Wilhelm Wundt? Freud? Bob Newhart?
So sorry if they can be painful at times.
Ahh - the usual apologia of science! They used to tell me the same thing at my ECT sessions -
"Sorry, Phil - these can be painful at times". Precious little consolation for having to use copious amounts of Max Factor on a daily basis to cover the burn marks ...
Also when considering whether you feel areas are covered that you would like which aren't, consider how individual we all are. It is difficult to convey all our needs in one heap, rather as research attempts there is greater understanding by focusing only on a few aspects.
Very simple - just use Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs - that should cover all the bases.
Finally I have appreciated your opinions and the fact is there is only one way in this world and that is by growing older but let's at least do it wiser.
My humble thoughts
I'm not sure that growing old is the wisest choice - maybe Dylan Thomas had the right idea:
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
