Getting compliments feels like sugar-coating the child. I love compliments just as much as I find them questionable. That's where the child and the adult argue. HaHa!
Inferring the inside from the outside form, can you call that a habit to be neglected?

We used to call the old driving licences "rags" because after twenty years they had indeed become very ragged and supple because they were not made entirely of paper. I harbour nostalgic feelings here. It reminds me of how old I am.

I'll have a look at your book recommendation.

edit:

I read your book description. What a good story. The man did something that very few people dare to do. The platitude "life goes on" is not wrong, but we modern people seem to understand it as simply pretending that no one has died and that routine will catch up with life. I think after an experience that one experiences as traumatic and that is not intercepted by the community, one needs something like a walkabout, a journey into the inner self, a form of spiritual processing of what has taken a heavy toll on one. Some people then actually go on a journey, a pilgrimage.

The book also reminded me of another one: "Zen and the Art of Maintaining a Motorcycle", maybe you know it?

You've had your own blog for quite a while, I see. Shake hands :) - I gave mine up a very long time ago.