Well, this week was an odd one, and the coming weeks are going to be weird as well, given that work is crazy, and there's a lot going on this summer.
Lots of good things happening, too, though. It's a time for change, I think.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Monday, July 15, 2013
TOW: Things will get better
I don't have a lot of musings on this topic this week; I just believe in it.
Monday, July 08, 2013
Sunday, June 23, 2013
TOW: Positive Thinking
Today's thought is brought to you by the power of positive thinking!
Or at least it would be, if I believed in such a thing.
I consider myself an optimist, but I wouldn't call myself a 'positive thinker.' Indeed, I think most of my thoughts are gloomy and concerned with worst case scenarios. Perhaps that's why, today, I feel the need to discuss the power, importance, and mythos associated with positive thinking.
Positive thinking is something probably coined by Tony Robbins, who has always been a proponent of positivity and the power that it has on the brain. For positive thinkers, "A positive mind anticipates happiness, joy, health, and favorable results."
Baloney.
Positive thinking is a lot of what I have had to deal with over the last couple weeks, and I have been trying to figure out whether it could be incorporated into my life in an authentic way. After spending some time with it, I can definitely say that it is not for me. Here's why:
1) Positive thinking does not solve life's problems.
Thinking something away, or even trying to put a positive spin on negative actions does not get to the root cause of a problems. Real problems require real solutions....everything else is background noise to what you should be doing....namely facing your fears, confronting and diffusing conflicts, etc.
2) Positive thinking ignores the facts/reality
You can't wish away cancer, baldness, and other things that most people wish to avoid. You can put a positive spin on things you detest and hate, but that doesn't make you love them. You can't trick yourself into being someone else who likes and dislikes different things than you. You are who you are, good and bad. You are not a happiness robot.
3) Positive thinking doesn't have a plan
Looking towards the future doesn't address the problems of the past, nor complete this moment we're in, which leads to the future. Thinking well about things doesn't make us come up with good ideas. In fact, pride, or hubris, as psychology has often proven, is a good way to fail. We cannot become good at what we do and we certainly can't plan a strategy unless we take a problem seriously. Positive thinking is about reducing what you feel, not facing it.
I do believe I'm an optimist...and most days, I think I'm an incredibly lucky and happy person. But that has nothing to do with my circumstances...those are separate from a kind of inner peace that takes time to develop. Circumstances are things which require an incredibly large amount of reality to be looked at, considered, and cared for. And those things require a certain sense of realism, and negativity. This negativity helps us cope, understand, and move on. Obliquely ignoring what bothers us can work for a time, but can never help us grow.
And I have (and I hope I always will be) interested in the grow of my self and being.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
TOW: Direction
Today I heard an amazing story told by one of my favourite priests in this city. I've quoted it in full below:
”I’m reminded today of Albert Einstein, the great physicist who this month has been honored by Time magazine as the “Man of the Century.” Einstein was once traveling from Princeton on a train when the conductor came down the aisle, punching the tickets of every passenger. When he came to Einstein, Einstein reached in his vest pocket. He couldn’t find his ticket, so he reached in his trouser pockets.
“It wasn’t there. He looked in his briefcase but couldn’t find it. Then he looked in the seat beside him. He still couldn’t find it.
“The conductor said, ‘Dr. Einstein, I know who you are. We all know who you are. I’m sure you bought a ticket. Don’t worry about it.’
“Einstein nodded appreciatively. The conductor continued down the aisle punching tickets. As he was ready to move to the next car, he turned around and saw the great physicist down on his hands and knees looking under his seat for his ticket.
“The conductor rushed back and said, ‘Dr. Einstein, Dr. Einstein, don’t worry, I know who you are; no problem. You don’t need a ticket. I’m sure you bought one.’ Einstein looked at him and said, ‘Young man, I too, know who I am. What I don’t know is where I’m going.”
Having said that Billy Graham continued,
“See the suit I’m wearing? It’s a brand new suit. My children, and my grandchildren are telling me I’ve gotten a little slovenly in my old age. I used to be a bit more fastidious. So I went out and bought a new suit for this luncheon and one more occasion.\
“You know what that occasion is? This is the suit in which I’ll be buried.
“But when you hear I’m dead, I don’t want you to immediately remember the suit I’m wearing.
“I want you to remember this: I not only know who I am. I also know where I’m going.”
__________________________________________________________________________
This homily was very relevant for my current life situation. I have accomplished many of the goals I set out to do in my life in the short, mid, and long term. And now, given this place in my life, I do not know where to turn next. And the consequence of uncertainty for me is a kind of anxiety I am learning to live with. It is an uncomfortable position for a millienial, since we are people who are given too much choice in general.
To me, the most important thing is a direction, a drive. These tasks are just upkeep, and upkeep is not growth. And I am someone who needs to be growing, moving forward. I don't want to stay as I am, I want to be better than I am. I enjoy my life on the whole...but I am in a place where I need to define the meaning that is in my life. I need to think a little harder about the direction of my life.
I am starting to redefine where that drive is coming from, and also what it is that drives me in life. I have reached the point where I believe in myself, but I am still working on finding out how to turn my own beliefs into reality around me. And, that, perhaps, is the next step in my journey as an adult.
”I’m reminded today of Albert Einstein, the great physicist who this month has been honored by Time magazine as the “Man of the Century.” Einstein was once traveling from Princeton on a train when the conductor came down the aisle, punching the tickets of every passenger. When he came to Einstein, Einstein reached in his vest pocket. He couldn’t find his ticket, so he reached in his trouser pockets.
“It wasn’t there. He looked in his briefcase but couldn’t find it. Then he looked in the seat beside him. He still couldn’t find it.
“The conductor said, ‘Dr. Einstein, I know who you are. We all know who you are. I’m sure you bought a ticket. Don’t worry about it.’
“Einstein nodded appreciatively. The conductor continued down the aisle punching tickets. As he was ready to move to the next car, he turned around and saw the great physicist down on his hands and knees looking under his seat for his ticket.
“The conductor rushed back and said, ‘Dr. Einstein, Dr. Einstein, don’t worry, I know who you are; no problem. You don’t need a ticket. I’m sure you bought one.’ Einstein looked at him and said, ‘Young man, I too, know who I am. What I don’t know is where I’m going.”
Having said that Billy Graham continued,
“See the suit I’m wearing? It’s a brand new suit. My children, and my grandchildren are telling me I’ve gotten a little slovenly in my old age. I used to be a bit more fastidious. So I went out and bought a new suit for this luncheon and one more occasion.\
“You know what that occasion is? This is the suit in which I’ll be buried.
“But when you hear I’m dead, I don’t want you to immediately remember the suit I’m wearing.
“I want you to remember this: I not only know who I am. I also know where I’m going.”
__________________________________________________________________________
This homily was very relevant for my current life situation. I have accomplished many of the goals I set out to do in my life in the short, mid, and long term. And now, given this place in my life, I do not know where to turn next. And the consequence of uncertainty for me is a kind of anxiety I am learning to live with. It is an uncomfortable position for a millienial, since we are people who are given too much choice in general.
To me, the most important thing is a direction, a drive. These tasks are just upkeep, and upkeep is not growth. And I am someone who needs to be growing, moving forward. I don't want to stay as I am, I want to be better than I am. I enjoy my life on the whole...but I am in a place where I need to define the meaning that is in my life. I need to think a little harder about the direction of my life.
I am starting to redefine where that drive is coming from, and also what it is that drives me in life. I have reached the point where I believe in myself, but I am still working on finding out how to turn my own beliefs into reality around me. And, that, perhaps, is the next step in my journey as an adult.
I have internet again! Time to write.
I was without internet for nearly a week. If I didn't have it at work, I may have died from withdrawal. Just goes to show how much we rely on instant communication these days. Also helps a lot of the work that I do is based on social media.
Monday, April 08, 2013
TOW: Inspiration
You know, a lot has been said about inspiration. Probably my favourite long form speech about inspiration, especially for writers, has been said by one of my least favourite writers, Elizabeth Gilbert.
While I don't subscribe to Eat, Pray, Love (though that mantra, as a whole, sits well with me) I do believe in the words she says as part of her TED talk. Namely, in a more condensed form, that genius is 1 percent inspiration, and 99 per cent perspiration.
But Gilbert says it more kindly than that. Instead, she talks about a writer's muse. Because, any writer that has written more than ten words, knows that feeling of being possessed by something. An idea, a desire to continue, an almost inhuman want to write, and write well. Danielle Steel, as much as she might not be considered literature's finest...still understand the written process very well. And her process mirrors mine, I find *Excerpts taken from Danielle Steel's blog:
Very early in my career ( I only had one baby when I started writing), I figured out that if you wait for time and the opportunity to present themselves—it never happens, and you don’t get anything done. So I made writing my priority, and I turned down just about everything else. For about 30 years, I never had lunch with friends, never broke into my writing time. The only greater priority in my life was my family, my children and husband. They always came first—but after that, I turned down just about everything else so I could write.
My process is that first I have an idea, and it may only be a tiny kernel of an idea, something that intrigues me. It may just be a thought, a tiny piece of something about a person, a news item, something in history, or a philosophy about life. I start making notes, and do so for several months usually, as the story emerges in my head. Sometimes I sit for hours, just staring into space, pursuing the idea. And then about the characters to go with it. And then one day, I sit down at my typewriter and write the outline for the story. By then, I pretty much know the story. And the outline tells the story chapter by chapter. The outlines are anywhere from 40 to 70 pages long. And then I go over the outline, correcting it and making changes. And when I’m comfortable with it, I send it to my editor and agent, and they suggest some changes. I make those changes if I agree with them, without compromising the essence of the book, and then send the outline to my publisher. And by then, it is a total mess, with things crossed out, corrected, written over, full of asterisks ( my editors hate the mess I make!! and beg me to change my typewriter ribbon more often, which I forget to do, and when I’m excited about what I’m writing). And then my publisher suggests changes too, so I do another re-write on the outline. And whenever I write, I do nothing else. That’s all I do, so as not be distracted from the book.
Once the outline is set, I put it away, and let it simmer for a while. And I am usually working on 3 to 5 different books, in various stages at the same time. I work it all the way through to the end of the story, and then put it away for a while, and it continues to cook somewhere, in the back of my head.
When I start a book, it is like climbing a mountain. Brutal, exhausting, an endurance contest. I start the book and don’t leave my desk until the first draft is finished. I work from the outline, but the book just flows on its own (like a movie I see and hear in my head—and sometimes even I’m surprised at what I’m seeing and hearing!) I cry at the sad parts, laugh at something funny one of the characters said. My life becomes totally populated by the people of the book. I don’t talk to anyone (except my kids when they call me), don’t return calls, don’t see anyone, and don’t leave the house. I go from my bed to my desk, to my bathtub at the end of my workday, then back to bed, and then back to work. I work about 20 to 22 hours straight, sleep for 3 or 4 hours, and then go back to work. And I do that until I have told the story and the first draft is finished. Michelangelo called it ‘stealing it from the stone’, when he carved a statue. I’m almost afraid to stop working at night because I’m afraid I’ll forget where I was going with the story, but I don’t forget. And I keep on going until I’m through. That first draft is very rough, and full of mistakes. I read it many, many times afterwards, making corrections, and then when I’m satisfied with it, I send it to my editor (and agent), and then she sends me back a ton of corrections and changes she wants made. I do most of them and re-write it, and the book goes back and forth that way for many months, while I correct it and polish it. And between rounds of working on that book, I work on others. And each time I come back to a book, I see new things I want to improve, polish, or change. I usually re-write a book off and on for well over a year, even a year and a half. And if I need historical research, or about an industry, or geography, my researcher gives it to me (to read and digest) before, during, and after the book, and I weave it in where I need it. So as you can see, it’s a long, arduous process."
____
I find that I work best when I ignore absolutely everything else. And the best inspiration for me comes from working hard, not from magically creating something out of nothing in five minutes. Hard work inspires me. I have always known that, but it was something I was particularly taken with after going to the gym, getting a haircut, and walking half an hour in the rain with 50 pounds of groceries. (You have good thinking, I find, when carrying heavy things.) Now I am sitting, listening to the rain and thunder, and all I can think is how much harder I want to work, how much better I will feel, once I do some of the things I have been putting off, often while I was living my life and just getting on with it all.
To me, there is nothing more important than inspiration. To feel inspired means to dream. To dream means to have hope. With hope, I feel I can do anything. And more than anything, I want to put my hopes and dreams to good work, to create.
While I don't subscribe to Eat, Pray, Love (though that mantra, as a whole, sits well with me) I do believe in the words she says as part of her TED talk. Namely, in a more condensed form, that genius is 1 percent inspiration, and 99 per cent perspiration.
But Gilbert says it more kindly than that. Instead, she talks about a writer's muse. Because, any writer that has written more than ten words, knows that feeling of being possessed by something. An idea, a desire to continue, an almost inhuman want to write, and write well. Danielle Steel, as much as she might not be considered literature's finest...still understand the written process very well. And her process mirrors mine, I find *Excerpts taken from Danielle Steel's blog:
Very early in my career ( I only had one baby when I started writing), I figured out that if you wait for time and the opportunity to present themselves—it never happens, and you don’t get anything done. So I made writing my priority, and I turned down just about everything else. For about 30 years, I never had lunch with friends, never broke into my writing time. The only greater priority in my life was my family, my children and husband. They always came first—but after that, I turned down just about everything else so I could write.
My process is that first I have an idea, and it may only be a tiny kernel of an idea, something that intrigues me. It may just be a thought, a tiny piece of something about a person, a news item, something in history, or a philosophy about life. I start making notes, and do so for several months usually, as the story emerges in my head. Sometimes I sit for hours, just staring into space, pursuing the idea. And then about the characters to go with it. And then one day, I sit down at my typewriter and write the outline for the story. By then, I pretty much know the story. And the outline tells the story chapter by chapter. The outlines are anywhere from 40 to 70 pages long. And then I go over the outline, correcting it and making changes. And when I’m comfortable with it, I send it to my editor and agent, and they suggest some changes. I make those changes if I agree with them, without compromising the essence of the book, and then send the outline to my publisher. And by then, it is a total mess, with things crossed out, corrected, written over, full of asterisks ( my editors hate the mess I make!! and beg me to change my typewriter ribbon more often, which I forget to do, and when I’m excited about what I’m writing). And then my publisher suggests changes too, so I do another re-write on the outline. And whenever I write, I do nothing else. That’s all I do, so as not be distracted from the book.
Once the outline is set, I put it away, and let it simmer for a while. And I am usually working on 3 to 5 different books, in various stages at the same time. I work it all the way through to the end of the story, and then put it away for a while, and it continues to cook somewhere, in the back of my head.
When I start a book, it is like climbing a mountain. Brutal, exhausting, an endurance contest. I start the book and don’t leave my desk until the first draft is finished. I work from the outline, but the book just flows on its own (like a movie I see and hear in my head—and sometimes even I’m surprised at what I’m seeing and hearing!) I cry at the sad parts, laugh at something funny one of the characters said. My life becomes totally populated by the people of the book. I don’t talk to anyone (except my kids when they call me), don’t return calls, don’t see anyone, and don’t leave the house. I go from my bed to my desk, to my bathtub at the end of my workday, then back to bed, and then back to work. I work about 20 to 22 hours straight, sleep for 3 or 4 hours, and then go back to work. And I do that until I have told the story and the first draft is finished. Michelangelo called it ‘stealing it from the stone’, when he carved a statue. I’m almost afraid to stop working at night because I’m afraid I’ll forget where I was going with the story, but I don’t forget. And I keep on going until I’m through. That first draft is very rough, and full of mistakes. I read it many, many times afterwards, making corrections, and then when I’m satisfied with it, I send it to my editor (and agent), and then she sends me back a ton of corrections and changes she wants made. I do most of them and re-write it, and the book goes back and forth that way for many months, while I correct it and polish it. And between rounds of working on that book, I work on others. And each time I come back to a book, I see new things I want to improve, polish, or change. I usually re-write a book off and on for well over a year, even a year and a half. And if I need historical research, or about an industry, or geography, my researcher gives it to me (to read and digest) before, during, and after the book, and I weave it in where I need it. So as you can see, it’s a long, arduous process."
____
I find that I work best when I ignore absolutely everything else. And the best inspiration for me comes from working hard, not from magically creating something out of nothing in five minutes. Hard work inspires me. I have always known that, but it was something I was particularly taken with after going to the gym, getting a haircut, and walking half an hour in the rain with 50 pounds of groceries. (You have good thinking, I find, when carrying heavy things.) Now I am sitting, listening to the rain and thunder, and all I can think is how much harder I want to work, how much better I will feel, once I do some of the things I have been putting off, often while I was living my life and just getting on with it all.
To me, there is nothing more important than inspiration. To feel inspired means to dream. To dream means to have hope. With hope, I feel I can do anything. And more than anything, I want to put my hopes and dreams to good work, to create.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
TOW: The worst thing that can happen?
The point of this blog post is something that I said to my dad while we discussed travel. My dad was making a not-so-surprising comment about my inability to have social limits, and I was commenting how some of the best experiences I've had were meeting strangers in odd places, and striking up a conversation with them. Travel is exciting when we put aside our worries, and go up to strangers and engage them, see what it's like to talk to someone, in a different land, maybe in a different language. For me, traveling is about ideas, and finding connections between your world and other places. The world is just so exciting when you think of it as a world of hidden friendship. Some of the most memorable moments are small conversations with strangers.
Because you aren't worried about your future with that person, the future that could be if you say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, act the wrong way. You feel worried sometimes in your regular life.
And, who doesn't know how much I love to worry about things? I worry about things that might happen, about things that haven't happened, about things that will happen, about things that will never happen. Sometimes I'm serious in my worrying. Sometimes it's an exercise in trying my friend's and family's patience.
But sometimes, it's something I have to work to get past. Because it stops me from living well. Because fear is not the way to finding happiness in my life. It's the road block on the way to things I want and need and cherish.
But fear is a strange thing. Too much or too little can harm us. Fear is meant to keep us safe from things that we don't yet understand that could be dangerous. But fear is also something to be overcome, so that we can showcase the power and strength of the human spirit.
Most people let fear dictate the limits of their happiness. Because to them, fear of the unknown, of whatever that thing they think is the worst....that scares them more than anything. And they let that fear rule their hearts. And their happiness.
And herein lies the point of this blog post, something that is supposed to be on a t-shirt, according to my dad: the worst thing that could happen is probably something good. When we travel, we we try new things, when we meet new people, it's nothing something bad. Most of the time, the worst thing that could happen is we could be surprised by our own happiness.
We always expect bad things to happen...but the best things happen when we don't expect anything at all, and let new experiences become something amazing.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
I'm sick
I think I overdid it this week.
Doing too much again, now I am just completely exhausted! =(
Sigh. These things happen, but still, it's rough. =/
Doing too much again, now I am just completely exhausted! =(
Sigh. These things happen, but still, it's rough. =/
Monday, March 11, 2013
Family
My family life is a bit stressy this week, so while I do have some thoughts about things....I can't think about them. I'm too busy feeling distracted. =(
So, with that in mind, I love my family, both the family around me I choose, and those who are my family by familial relation. But dang it, sometimes I wish it was easier to fulfill your obligations without those obligations stressing you out all the time. =/
So, with that in mind, I love my family, both the family around me I choose, and those who are my family by familial relation. But dang it, sometimes I wish it was easier to fulfill your obligations without those obligations stressing you out all the time. =/
Monday, March 04, 2013
TOW: A Single Adult
You know, being a single person in a big city is very different than anywhere else. More often than not, your life turns into the local cable network version of Sex and the City. You should have cute friends that are interesting and yet shallow at the same time, and yet at the end of the episode, things never quite work out the way you planned.
You have the option to be any kind of person as an adult, but I think most of us end up falling into one of two or three categories. Somewhat balanced, barfly, or recluse. It seems to me that you either have nothing better to do than make your life one giant party (barfly) or you can't be bothered with anyone your age because they annoy you too much (recluse) or you vacillitate between the two options depending on how you're feeling (which is, I think, somewhat normal).
Being a single adult is an interesting experience. In your 20s, it's somewhat exciting. You never know what's around the corner. As someone almost 30, it's a little different. You start to think about the rest of your life, and what it might look like. You wonder if you will have all your hair, or if parts of your body will sag. And you wonder, if you are the kind looking for a life partner, whether the same person you dreamed would find you attractive in your 20s will find you attractive in your 30s...or 40s.....50s? Will you be successful in your career, or will you live in your parents basement for the rest of your life?
Single adults have to constantly be doing 'something' because everyone else is so caught up with making family units (or being in the process of destroying them). I think that's why I tend to err on the side of a life that's a giant party than one that's reclusive. I did that for a year and a half here, and I was miserable....but once I let go of some of my inhibitions, life was something really special. Because it made everything old new again, and everything new, better. I might not have liked all the results from my choices in life, but I certainly liked the experience, and what I learned from it. Even bad things, very bad things, have become something worthwhile. Because, as a single adult, the more bad things you get out of the way early, the easier 30s and 40s will be as you surmount them.
There is no easy way to be an adult, period. And I don't think married people, or people with children have it easier. However, love is something that you can never take for granted, and being a single adult, you have to know where to look for love, and where to find it. Most importantly, you need to know the difference between love and wanting attention, and knowing what sates your needs, and what only exacerbates your neediness.
Because this single adult would like to live a rich life, and not a poor one. And while financial poverty is just fine for me (I make bag ladies look good!) emotional and spiritual poverty/depravity is not.
The only person who cares for a single adult is themselves, and, by extension, their other single friends, and sometimes their families, when/if their families aren't too busy. But thankfully, most of us, by time we're 30, learn how to love ourselves...because without it, a single adult can't hope to be more than a shadow self that belongs simply in one of three labels: barfly, recluse....or somewhat normal.
You have the option to be any kind of person as an adult, but I think most of us end up falling into one of two or three categories. Somewhat balanced, barfly, or recluse. It seems to me that you either have nothing better to do than make your life one giant party (barfly) or you can't be bothered with anyone your age because they annoy you too much (recluse) or you vacillitate between the two options depending on how you're feeling (which is, I think, somewhat normal).
Being a single adult is an interesting experience. In your 20s, it's somewhat exciting. You never know what's around the corner. As someone almost 30, it's a little different. You start to think about the rest of your life, and what it might look like. You wonder if you will have all your hair, or if parts of your body will sag. And you wonder, if you are the kind looking for a life partner, whether the same person you dreamed would find you attractive in your 20s will find you attractive in your 30s...or 40s.....50s? Will you be successful in your career, or will you live in your parents basement for the rest of your life?
Single adults have to constantly be doing 'something' because everyone else is so caught up with making family units (or being in the process of destroying them). I think that's why I tend to err on the side of a life that's a giant party than one that's reclusive. I did that for a year and a half here, and I was miserable....but once I let go of some of my inhibitions, life was something really special. Because it made everything old new again, and everything new, better. I might not have liked all the results from my choices in life, but I certainly liked the experience, and what I learned from it. Even bad things, very bad things, have become something worthwhile. Because, as a single adult, the more bad things you get out of the way early, the easier 30s and 40s will be as you surmount them.
There is no easy way to be an adult, period. And I don't think married people, or people with children have it easier. However, love is something that you can never take for granted, and being a single adult, you have to know where to look for love, and where to find it. Most importantly, you need to know the difference between love and wanting attention, and knowing what sates your needs, and what only exacerbates your neediness.
Because this single adult would like to live a rich life, and not a poor one. And while financial poverty is just fine for me (I make bag ladies look good!) emotional and spiritual poverty/depravity is not.
The only person who cares for a single adult is themselves, and, by extension, their other single friends, and sometimes their families, when/if their families aren't too busy. But thankfully, most of us, by time we're 30, learn how to love ourselves...because without it, a single adult can't hope to be more than a shadow self that belongs simply in one of three labels: barfly, recluse....or somewhat normal.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Monday, February 18, 2013
Saturday, February 09, 2013
This seems pretty accurate
 |
I took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test! ""Seeking an escape from the things that are bringi..." Click here to read the rest of the results. |
I guess I am ready to do some bigger and better things? I feel like this was a pretty accurate description of life thus far.
Wednesday, February 06, 2013
TOW: Compassion and Jesus
I have had a couple people in my life experience some high-highs, and some lows-lows lately...and it's a little weird because normally I'm the one in the gutter. (No really, I was starting to think I lived there.)
Whenever I see people down, I think about whether I should be compassionate. And when I think compassion, I mean it in the Christian way.
Christian compassion is a very specific kind of charity.
To take a biblical example, as Jesus was apprehended by the Jewish authorities, a discple cut off the ear of a nearby guard. Jesus put the man's ear back on, healing him. The very people who would take him away and eventually condemn him to death, Jesus decided he cared more about what other people were doing to each other than the social judgment that was about to be passed on him.
Sometimes in life we experience things around us that suggest we should be worse people. We should let bad things happen to bad people. We should let good things happen to us. But from a Christian point of view, this is one of the worst kinds of evil. What tyrant wouldn't want only good things to happen to them, and bad things to happen to others? Indeed, inside of all of us, is a demon wishing the worst on every other living being, and the wishing the very best things for us. Such a thing, sad as it is, is an integral part of being human. The banality of evil is that we accept is much more if it is not happening to us. As long as we can keep bad things away from us, we think we are good.
But goodness is not about the removal of what is considered, socially or otherwise, evil. Goodness is about making difficult decisions that don't always mean that we are doing the best things for oursleves, but that we are trying our best to live our lives as servants of Christ. And that means to be a servant-leader to others as well.
Christianity, for all its weaknesses is special, and Catholicism especially, because in no other religion does one see a need, a desire, and a commitment beyond life or death to care for the young, the poor, women, and the downtrodden. Roman-Greco society, so easy to put on a pedestal, made its gains off of slavery. They killed babies they didn't want by smashing the baby's head on a rock, especially if they thought it was afflicted with any kind of special need or disability. In other words, atheist and other theist societies often killed off the weak.
Let's not kid ourselves thinking Christians and Christianity have not done bad things or excesses. But the mission of Christianity is compassion. True compassion, to all people, not matter how good, or how bad.
And that's what I've been thinking about this week.
Whenever I see people down, I think about whether I should be compassionate. And when I think compassion, I mean it in the Christian way.
Christian compassion is a very specific kind of charity.
To take a biblical example, as Jesus was apprehended by the Jewish authorities, a discple cut off the ear of a nearby guard. Jesus put the man's ear back on, healing him. The very people who would take him away and eventually condemn him to death, Jesus decided he cared more about what other people were doing to each other than the social judgment that was about to be passed on him.
Sometimes in life we experience things around us that suggest we should be worse people. We should let bad things happen to bad people. We should let good things happen to us. But from a Christian point of view, this is one of the worst kinds of evil. What tyrant wouldn't want only good things to happen to them, and bad things to happen to others? Indeed, inside of all of us, is a demon wishing the worst on every other living being, and the wishing the very best things for us. Such a thing, sad as it is, is an integral part of being human. The banality of evil is that we accept is much more if it is not happening to us. As long as we can keep bad things away from us, we think we are good.
But goodness is not about the removal of what is considered, socially or otherwise, evil. Goodness is about making difficult decisions that don't always mean that we are doing the best things for oursleves, but that we are trying our best to live our lives as servants of Christ. And that means to be a servant-leader to others as well.
Christianity, for all its weaknesses is special, and Catholicism especially, because in no other religion does one see a need, a desire, and a commitment beyond life or death to care for the young, the poor, women, and the downtrodden. Roman-Greco society, so easy to put on a pedestal, made its gains off of slavery. They killed babies they didn't want by smashing the baby's head on a rock, especially if they thought it was afflicted with any kind of special need or disability. In other words, atheist and other theist societies often killed off the weak.
Let's not kid ourselves thinking Christians and Christianity have not done bad things or excesses. But the mission of Christianity is compassion. True compassion, to all people, not matter how good, or how bad.
And that's what I've been thinking about this week.
Monday, January 28, 2013
So, I have re-entered the scary world of online dating
There.
I said it.
I did it.
I'm doing it.
It's SO bloody time consuming.
But I'm kinda glad I am.
I mean, once you get past all the shots of people trying to look sexy, here and there you meet interesting people.
I've decided I'm going to try and meet several cool people, and hope it goes well. I'd like to be able to make friends, and maybe even have a couple dates from it. Dates would be nice.
Well, we'll see. I'm not sure why I want to do this, but it'll be an adventure anyways. Maybe I'll even catalogue a few here.
I said it.
I did it.
I'm doing it.
It's SO bloody time consuming.
But I'm kinda glad I am.
I mean, once you get past all the shots of people trying to look sexy, here and there you meet interesting people.
I've decided I'm going to try and meet several cool people, and hope it goes well. I'd like to be able to make friends, and maybe even have a couple dates from it. Dates would be nice.
Well, we'll see. I'm not sure why I want to do this, but it'll be an adventure anyways. Maybe I'll even catalogue a few here.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
TOW: Knowing What We Want
"Knowing others is wisdom, knowing yourself is Enlightenment."
Lao Tzu
You know, there are a lot of books written about knowing what you want.
But the only person who can know the 'you' inside of you is you. And knowing you is the first step to knowing what we want.
I have many things in my life that I want. But I only know I want these things because I know a little bit about who I am, and who I want to be.
I can't say I have everything figured out, down to the last item, but I'm kind of glad I haven't done that yet. I used to be very much that way, but I've learned that life can change so quickly, that it's best to change with it. Being the same person forever....that's not for me. I want to be a better person than I've been in the past.
And to do that, I have to know what I want, at least in a general sense.
And to do that, I have to know me.
Lao Tzu
You know, there are a lot of books written about knowing what you want.
But the only person who can know the 'you' inside of you is you. And knowing you is the first step to knowing what we want.
I have many things in my life that I want. But I only know I want these things because I know a little bit about who I am, and who I want to be.
I can't say I have everything figured out, down to the last item, but I'm kind of glad I haven't done that yet. I used to be very much that way, but I've learned that life can change so quickly, that it's best to change with it. Being the same person forever....that's not for me. I want to be a better person than I've been in the past.
And to do that, I have to know what I want, at least in a general sense.
And to do that, I have to know me.
Monday, January 14, 2013
TOW: People Suck
My friend Liz and I have been have an ongoing, slightly amusing (for me) slightly stream-of-consciousness-faux-rage-induced-in-the-moment (for her) argument about whether or not 'People suck.'
First, Liz's argument: "People suck. I like individual people, but people as a whole, suck. They're stupid."
There might be more to this argument, but as far as I can tell, I've heard this particular line several times. (Please also note that the latest iteration of this argument happened while looking for a parking stall at IKEA on a Sunday.)
So the question must be: do people, in groups of certain kinds, fail to perform as well as individuals? Do people 'suck' while a singular person, as bad as they might be, is still be better than an average mob of dummy denizens?
Everyone has, at one time or another, heard the term herd behavior or herd mentality. Freud studied it. Nietzsche was famous for describing it. And anyone who has gone to a Walmart during peak hours has experienced it.
Herd behavior, simply put, is the individuals acting together without a planned direction. Demonstrations, riots, and mobs are all examples of this. But even when groups are planning, they still don't accomplish very much. Watching people drive around in circles for a parking stall is a good example. This activity is often fruitless, and even when it is, someone always manages to make another person angry with bad driving, talking on their cell phone, or by causing an accident. Two or more people have activities which cause them to experience friction...stress. And yes, in that moment, people seem to suck. Why? Because from our viewpoint, whenever we discover people acting without thinking, they are often doing so without considering how they might make others feel. These people are rude, inconsiderate, and quite frankly, often ignorant of the pain they cause.
From this perspective, \Liz is right. People do suck. Such behavior is sad at the best of times.
Perhaps the fact that being in public means being in a highly uncontrolled space full of individuals who are only partially aware that you exist, and therefore only partially care if they cause you any injury. But as humans, we can't help it. We can't help but look at what's most tantalizing or most distracting.
And yet, much can be accomplished by these masses of non-individuals. Student demonstrations, hippy marches, heck, even people protesting gay marriages with signs, they're all trying to accomplish something. They're trying to make their feelings known, as a group. And people coming together intentionally, even if they all arrive there for different reasons, is something that I can't help but admire.
People, in public spaces, will always frustrate us. But people in small groups, at a pub, that's a group of friends. Running into a gaggle of strangers that you get to chat with for an hour, that's special. It's often that we do want to lean on the negative side of things when we think of unorganized groups of individuals, but many of those groups are very life-affirming, and necessary, even if they frustrate us at the same time.
First, Liz's argument: "People suck. I like individual people, but people as a whole, suck. They're stupid."
There might be more to this argument, but as far as I can tell, I've heard this particular line several times. (Please also note that the latest iteration of this argument happened while looking for a parking stall at IKEA on a Sunday.)
So the question must be: do people, in groups of certain kinds, fail to perform as well as individuals? Do people 'suck' while a singular person, as bad as they might be, is still be better than an average mob of dummy denizens?
Everyone has, at one time or another, heard the term herd behavior or herd mentality. Freud studied it. Nietzsche was famous for describing it. And anyone who has gone to a Walmart during peak hours has experienced it.
Herd behavior, simply put, is the individuals acting together without a planned direction. Demonstrations, riots, and mobs are all examples of this. But even when groups are planning, they still don't accomplish very much. Watching people drive around in circles for a parking stall is a good example. This activity is often fruitless, and even when it is, someone always manages to make another person angry with bad driving, talking on their cell phone, or by causing an accident. Two or more people have activities which cause them to experience friction...stress. And yes, in that moment, people seem to suck. Why? Because from our viewpoint, whenever we discover people acting without thinking, they are often doing so without considering how they might make others feel. These people are rude, inconsiderate, and quite frankly, often ignorant of the pain they cause.
From this perspective, \Liz is right. People do suck. Such behavior is sad at the best of times.
Perhaps the fact that being in public means being in a highly uncontrolled space full of individuals who are only partially aware that you exist, and therefore only partially care if they cause you any injury. But as humans, we can't help it. We can't help but look at what's most tantalizing or most distracting.
And yet, much can be accomplished by these masses of non-individuals. Student demonstrations, hippy marches, heck, even people protesting gay marriages with signs, they're all trying to accomplish something. They're trying to make their feelings known, as a group. And people coming together intentionally, even if they all arrive there for different reasons, is something that I can't help but admire.
People, in public spaces, will always frustrate us. But people in small groups, at a pub, that's a group of friends. Running into a gaggle of strangers that you get to chat with for an hour, that's special. It's often that we do want to lean on the negative side of things when we think of unorganized groups of individuals, but many of those groups are very life-affirming, and necessary, even if they frustrate us at the same time.
Tuesday, January 01, 2013
TOW: Togetherness
In The Alchemist, Santiago goes in search of his personal dream and goes through many places, meeting many people. Eventually, Santiago and the Alchemist are captured by bandits. The Alchemist promises the bandits that Santiago is actually a great alchemist, and that Santiago turn into the wind in three days. \
For three days, Santiago contemplates the desert, and on the third day, he goes to a cliff, where he will be killed, or he will turn into the wind, and he will be let free from bandits.
Santiago speaks to the desert, who in turn tells him to speak to the wind. Santiago tells the wind he needs to become the wind because Santiago has a personal legend he must fulfill and that he can be the wind, because love can do anything. The wind tells him he is too different. The wind tells him to speak to the hand that wrote all. Santiago turns to the sun, and asks him to help him become the wind. The sun does not know how to do this, and Santiago says when something realizes its Personal Legend, it must change so it can acquire a new Personal Legend, for this is how alchemists turn lead into gold. The sun says that Santiago should speak with the Soul of the World.
Santiago goes to speak with the Soul of the World, but instead of speaking, listens, and then prays. The Soul of the World speaks to him, and becomes one with Santiago, and with the love that the Soul of the World has, Santiago knew he could perform miracles. And so, Santiago becomes the wind.
All I have been thinking about lately is about how Santiago became the wind. Not because he was one person, special, but because he was someone valued others, and placed his trust in them. It was asking, desiring, and words that made a miracle happen. The bandits that day thought Santiago was a great alchemist. But, being together with others was what made Santiago the wind. Not power. Not money. Not fame. Not expertise. But togetherness.
For three days, Santiago contemplates the desert, and on the third day, he goes to a cliff, where he will be killed, or he will turn into the wind, and he will be let free from bandits.
Santiago speaks to the desert, who in turn tells him to speak to the wind. Santiago tells the wind he needs to become the wind because Santiago has a personal legend he must fulfill and that he can be the wind, because love can do anything. The wind tells him he is too different. The wind tells him to speak to the hand that wrote all. Santiago turns to the sun, and asks him to help him become the wind. The sun does not know how to do this, and Santiago says when something realizes its Personal Legend, it must change so it can acquire a new Personal Legend, for this is how alchemists turn lead into gold. The sun says that Santiago should speak with the Soul of the World.
Santiago goes to speak with the Soul of the World, but instead of speaking, listens, and then prays. The Soul of the World speaks to him, and becomes one with Santiago, and with the love that the Soul of the World has, Santiago knew he could perform miracles. And so, Santiago becomes the wind.
All I have been thinking about lately is about how Santiago became the wind. Not because he was one person, special, but because he was someone valued others, and placed his trust in them. It was asking, desiring, and words that made a miracle happen. The bandits that day thought Santiago was a great alchemist. But, being together with others was what made Santiago the wind. Not power. Not money. Not fame. Not expertise. But togetherness.
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