Today I came across this post on a feminist news site I often read: Baby Showers Suck and I clicked on it because I kind of agree. I had a bridal shower (against my will) and the baby shower will hopefully be avoided (through many veiled threats to my mom - j/k, but seriously, don't plan me one....or else). I do attend and participate because, for the most part, it usually seems as though the recipient of said shower really does feel honored (haven't run across a bridezilla or momzilla yet), which is a great human sentiment to share in. However, once I read this article, my agreement ended with the title. The author's snarky commentary was off-putting and, frankly, uncalled for. Some of what was written wasn't even true. For example, researchers have studied and found that there's no such thing as the forgetful "pregnancy brain" she mentions. Perhaps the people this author knows that are pregnant are thinking about way too many things at once because, you know, THEIR LIVES ARE GOING TO CHANGE GREATLY. Their brains are more likely in overtime trying to figure out how everything is going to play out in the next few months. It has nothing to do with their hormones being out of whack, which, as the author is a female, you would think would be an offensive "diagnosis" to her too, though she goes on with talking about it and essentially reworks the old, "ah, you're just being hysterical," line to put down other women.
If you have chosen to live a life of being child-free, there are perks that go along with that. Similarly, if you have chosen a life of being a parent there are an entirely different set of perks. Both sides also have their negatives. If you engaged in a parallel life where you somehow chose the opposite of your original selection, you would trade one for the other, and, surprise! there are benefits and drawbacks to both....see the logic here?
Being nearly 5 months pregnant, I can say that my choice to have kids has nothing to do with you, fair reader. In fact, it was a choice my partner and I made in our lives. I am still a teacher, friend, coach, wife, student, et al,, that I was before insemination. In fact, what I would truly prefer, but what seems to be impossible for most people to be able to do, is that I be treated by you in the same way that I was before you knew. I'm not talking about every moment of my pregnancy, not sharing sonogram photos, not signing cards with my future child's name on it, or anything that might overly alert you to the fact that I am indeed with child unless you're looking directly at me (and even if I were doing those things, can't someone be excited in a different way from you? It's not for me, but it's also not WRONG). Unless I am in physical distress, I wouldn't want to be treated differently. Pregnancy is not a disability. Maybe I take things too far, because it would be a dream for there to be no comments about my body or "condition" on a daily basis, as there are now, but I am dealing with it because this is the nature of humankind and I cannot change them.
Similarly, a while ago, a former student, who identifies as transgender, told me he really wished that he could be left alone to live his life as he chose. Instead, everyone, including the wider gay community, felt a need to weigh in to tell him that he was "doing it wrong" (the "it" being dependent on the particular group's definition). I absolutely agreed with him. We discussed why the hell so many people feel compelled to constantly impose their way of life upon others, to be offended by the mere thought that someone might have decided to do something a little different with their lives.
Maybe it's insecurity or uncertainty that drives so many to constantly prick at others, but throughout my teen and adult years, I haven't been successful at entirely figuring out why the personal decisions of others are so open for discussion. Sure, everyone judges everyone else all the time - we naturally look someone up and down upon meeting them, consider their clothing, hair style, how they present themselves, etc. But we all do not tear down other's life choices with vitriol. I say and truly believe in, "you do you, I'll do me," sort of attitude. It's not judging your way of life, in fact, it;s freeing you to make that life your own, free from judgment by me. Yet, I have been told that my aloofness and general carefree attitude toward other's choices leads them to think I am judging them because I am not constantly validating their choices. The validation part just isn't how I roll. Especially if you're an adult I know, but even if you're my student. I have no authority to validate your choices! Hell, I don't even know what I'm doing most of the time. And that's OK. The typical theme of my posts is getting to the point of being OK with the uncertainty and the unknown. Sure, judging the crap out of other people is a big known - others will join in, you can find solace and security in knowing you didn't do what that idiot did, but it's also addictive. Eventually, you will need to constantly tear down others to get validation that what you've chosen is right. But, in reality, your "destiny" is still a big unknown, no matter how dumb that person in the cubicle next to you is.
16 November 2015
25 October 2015
Impressions of Life
Last night I watched Moonrise Kingdom, a Wes Anderson movie set in Rhode Island in 1965. I know Anderson gets flack for his, typically, all-white casts, or the focus on the eccentric within the elite, but I do consistently like his films despite this. After a long discussion of the types of movies I like after watching, I realized that his films often fit into the framework of providing "impressions" of plot, time, places and characters, without much development in any of these fields besides what the viewer needs to know to follow the story. The viewer works to fill in gaps to string together a more coherent story while watching. But, just as in reality, there's very little that does make a complete, neat little story arc in our lives - we fill in the details for it to be so in our attempts to understand and make sense of a world that doesn't.
Looking to other movies I also really enjoy, there exists the same pattern of impressions, rather than strict development. For the longest time, my favorite movie has been Amadeus.While not historically accurate, the presentation of Mozart as a flighty genius that burned too brightly and thus, too quickly, rings true. The narration by rival composer Salieri reveals all of our darkest feelings of jealousy, hatred and desires to control. Even though the viewer can clearly see how manipulative and selfish Salieri is, being privy to his thought process, we cannot help but empathize to some degree because we have all felt the same. And for Mozart, who is supposedly the main focus of the manipulation, our questions of who he was as a person and how he was able to write so prolifically are left unanswered. We see an impression of a troubled young man, clearly a musical genius, but with a penchant for drink and self-destruction. His inner thoughts are not accessible to us.
Much like anyone who is venerated for a great skill or feat, our conception of how they must be does not jive with how they are in actuality. In fact, as many celebrities will attest to, I'm sure, their most devoted fans (and stalkers) are suffering under a delusion that their heroes are infallible, when in fact, as the humans they are, they eat, sleep and shit, just like the rest of us. That's the funny tendency we have as humans - to venerate certain people that we admire for particular qualities that make up the myriad of those which we all possess. When we meet these stellar beings, our conception is wholly false, due to the fact that they are clearly NOT representative of reality or any real person. In an interview with Hunter S. Thompson, he remarked that people would always come up to him and wait in anticipation of him doing something "crazy" whether he was sipping coffee in a hotel lobby or on a drug bender.
These pressures extend beyond the famous - we often hold our loved ones hostage to conceptions we have of them, rather than facing the reality of who they are, which is their mundane, daily existence, the one we live through too. We would all benefit from living to learn in a less expectant way, but with a continual inundation of immediate gratification, it will be harder to do so without conscious effort.
Looking to other movies I also really enjoy, there exists the same pattern of impressions, rather than strict development. For the longest time, my favorite movie has been Amadeus.While not historically accurate, the presentation of Mozart as a flighty genius that burned too brightly and thus, too quickly, rings true. The narration by rival composer Salieri reveals all of our darkest feelings of jealousy, hatred and desires to control. Even though the viewer can clearly see how manipulative and selfish Salieri is, being privy to his thought process, we cannot help but empathize to some degree because we have all felt the same. And for Mozart, who is supposedly the main focus of the manipulation, our questions of who he was as a person and how he was able to write so prolifically are left unanswered. We see an impression of a troubled young man, clearly a musical genius, but with a penchant for drink and self-destruction. His inner thoughts are not accessible to us.
Much like anyone who is venerated for a great skill or feat, our conception of how they must be does not jive with how they are in actuality. In fact, as many celebrities will attest to, I'm sure, their most devoted fans (and stalkers) are suffering under a delusion that their heroes are infallible, when in fact, as the humans they are, they eat, sleep and shit, just like the rest of us. That's the funny tendency we have as humans - to venerate certain people that we admire for particular qualities that make up the myriad of those which we all possess. When we meet these stellar beings, our conception is wholly false, due to the fact that they are clearly NOT representative of reality or any real person. In an interview with Hunter S. Thompson, he remarked that people would always come up to him and wait in anticipation of him doing something "crazy" whether he was sipping coffee in a hotel lobby or on a drug bender.
These pressures extend beyond the famous - we often hold our loved ones hostage to conceptions we have of them, rather than facing the reality of who they are, which is their mundane, daily existence, the one we live through too. We would all benefit from living to learn in a less expectant way, but with a continual inundation of immediate gratification, it will be harder to do so without conscious effort.
06 August 2015
The Bridge
"Man is a rope stretched between the animal and the Superman--a rope over an abyss." - Nietzsche
Admittedly, I've never read any work by Nietzsche in full. Quotes, synopses, excerpts, analyses, but never a complete work. I probably should because whatever I have read, I've really enjoyed. In fact, I am also reminded of my own thoughts when I do, which is somewhat scary, and not because he was a secret Nazi (he wasn't), but because he went insane. Always a little eccentric, the story goes that he saw a man flogging a horse on the streets of Turin, Italy in 1889 and he ran to the animal, crying and throwing himself over its body to protect it. After this public breakdown and a series of strokes and other health ailments, he died in the summer of 1890. In that interim, his ability to communicate effectively with the outside world broke down to the point that it was incomprehensible.
This is not a piece of self-aggrandizement - I'm no Nietzsche. It's more of an inquiry into genius, insight, and madness in our own society.
Societally, how do we treat those who think differently? Do we lock them away? Medicate them? Let them run rampant? When I teach history, I like to ask these sorts of questions because it helps to shed light on what a culture was in a particular time. If you've ever see the movie Amadeus, the composer Salieri is placed in an asylum after slitting his own throat. He is incredibly lucid but the other patients (more aptly, inmates) seem to run the gamut from the psychotically deranged to the mentally retarded. This practice was not all that uncommon, even in the United States through the 1970s - children with severe learning disabilities or emotional disturbances were oftentimes shuttered away rather than being given an education suitable to their abilities (or even having their abilities, whatever they might have been, cultivated in some way to allow them the freedom to enjoy a life outside of a confined space). Luckily, with the advent of laws that protect the differently abled, many children are now afforded opportunities that most other "normal" children are given - to be around their peers, have access to enriching educational environments, participate in sports and clubs, etc.
In Art History class last night the professor was discussing Van Gogh. His life was, to put it bluntly, depressing as fuck (she didn't describe it in those terms, though that would have been ahh-mazing). She joked that if he had lived today he probably would not have produced his most famous works, like Starry Night, because he would have been so heavily medicated. In fact, art historians have noted that his signature style can be closely tracked with his departure off the deep end. And what if she is right? What if our current society's obsession with making sure people are on the right drugs to help them through the day, to "normalize" behaviors are actually killing off human creativity? Sure, Van Gogh lived a shitty life and died a horrible death, but at the same time, he became completely immersed in his work and has been immortalized through it. I don't believe in fate, but her comments made the wheels start turning - What if that sacrifice was a necessity for the progression of art? How would modern art be different without Van Gogh's contributions? What would be the impact on those that followed if his works had not been made to learn from and enjoy in its mere existence?
In France, ADHD isn't really a "thing" that kids have. It's just called being a kid. Parents there aren't as quick to medicate their children. Why? Is there something to be learned from struggling that we, as Americans, are afraid to do? Of course I see a lot of this at work - parents concerned about their child's grade when its not what they expected (an A). Their child never got lower than an A before, how could it be that they're not doing as well as they (re: the parent) had expected? That's something we all need to learn - how to be able to work within the parameters set to succeed. And those parameters are not always fair either - throw in institutionalized racism or sexism and a lot of people have to work doubly as hard to gain acceptance, let alone success. At times, that struggle will seem insurmountable; but then we also might really learn something about the system, ourselves, humanity, etc.
I see that desire to push humanity in Nietzsche as I do in myself. I can get pretty indignant about the apathy that most people express toward doing anything that would push them out of their comfort zone. In high school, one of my friends joked that if I kept up this pace of trying to right all of the world's wrongs, I'd eventually lose my mind. She prophesized I would be a babbling crazy person in the street (not too far off for Nietzsche, honestly). Well, I do actually think about that a lot because there sure are times where I know I can't run away to Montana, but if I continue on here, I will lose. my. shit. So what's a girl to do? There is not an easy answer. At least not one that I have come across yet.
Recently, I read a biography of another one of my favorite philosophers Albert Camus. His works are more literary that straight up philosophical treatises and he was criticized heavily for this throughout his life. Readers, including his own friends (like Sartre), expected a logical approach to a problem and got poetic imagery-laden text instead. In the rejection Camus faced, he never stopped addressing the whole. While others focused on the trees, he saw the forest. He internalized the quote from Nietzsche at the top - that we represent the bridge between what we came from and what we can be. Critical of both the French colonial forces AND the Algerian armed resistance movements, Camus refused to take sides, preferring to work with civilians on the ground who were stuck in between the cycle of violence perpetrated by both groups. Indeed, his commitment to a cause likely led to his demise as well, but he too left behind a legacy of ideas and actions for succeeding generations to consider.
In today's world of constant internet outrage, I can sympathize with Camus not wanting to take a side. It's easy to jump on the latest cause bandwagon and to vociferously state an opinion from the safety of your smartphone screen. But that's virtual. Sure, you support the cause by posting a meme, signing a petition, et. al, but what else will you do about it? It's a lot more difficult to walk outside and find someone who needs help. Especially when no one quite understands what you're doing (poor Nietzsche). I know I come off as a luddite many times, but there has to be a balance between how we can use technology to our advantage and what we rely on it for (no boredom, ever!!) Panem et circenses meet res ipsa loquitur - we're doing this shit to ourselves and it's only getting worse.
Admittedly, I've never read any work by Nietzsche in full. Quotes, synopses, excerpts, analyses, but never a complete work. I probably should because whatever I have read, I've really enjoyed. In fact, I am also reminded of my own thoughts when I do, which is somewhat scary, and not because he was a secret Nazi (he wasn't), but because he went insane. Always a little eccentric, the story goes that he saw a man flogging a horse on the streets of Turin, Italy in 1889 and he ran to the animal, crying and throwing himself over its body to protect it. After this public breakdown and a series of strokes and other health ailments, he died in the summer of 1890. In that interim, his ability to communicate effectively with the outside world broke down to the point that it was incomprehensible.
This is not a piece of self-aggrandizement - I'm no Nietzsche. It's more of an inquiry into genius, insight, and madness in our own society.
Societally, how do we treat those who think differently? Do we lock them away? Medicate them? Let them run rampant? When I teach history, I like to ask these sorts of questions because it helps to shed light on what a culture was in a particular time. If you've ever see the movie Amadeus, the composer Salieri is placed in an asylum after slitting his own throat. He is incredibly lucid but the other patients (more aptly, inmates) seem to run the gamut from the psychotically deranged to the mentally retarded. This practice was not all that uncommon, even in the United States through the 1970s - children with severe learning disabilities or emotional disturbances were oftentimes shuttered away rather than being given an education suitable to their abilities (or even having their abilities, whatever they might have been, cultivated in some way to allow them the freedom to enjoy a life outside of a confined space). Luckily, with the advent of laws that protect the differently abled, many children are now afforded opportunities that most other "normal" children are given - to be around their peers, have access to enriching educational environments, participate in sports and clubs, etc.
In Art History class last night the professor was discussing Van Gogh. His life was, to put it bluntly, depressing as fuck (she didn't describe it in those terms, though that would have been ahh-mazing). She joked that if he had lived today he probably would not have produced his most famous works, like Starry Night, because he would have been so heavily medicated. In fact, art historians have noted that his signature style can be closely tracked with his departure off the deep end. And what if she is right? What if our current society's obsession with making sure people are on the right drugs to help them through the day, to "normalize" behaviors are actually killing off human creativity? Sure, Van Gogh lived a shitty life and died a horrible death, but at the same time, he became completely immersed in his work and has been immortalized through it. I don't believe in fate, but her comments made the wheels start turning - What if that sacrifice was a necessity for the progression of art? How would modern art be different without Van Gogh's contributions? What would be the impact on those that followed if his works had not been made to learn from and enjoy in its mere existence?
In France, ADHD isn't really a "thing" that kids have. It's just called being a kid. Parents there aren't as quick to medicate their children. Why? Is there something to be learned from struggling that we, as Americans, are afraid to do? Of course I see a lot of this at work - parents concerned about their child's grade when its not what they expected (an A). Their child never got lower than an A before, how could it be that they're not doing as well as they (re: the parent) had expected? That's something we all need to learn - how to be able to work within the parameters set to succeed. And those parameters are not always fair either - throw in institutionalized racism or sexism and a lot of people have to work doubly as hard to gain acceptance, let alone success. At times, that struggle will seem insurmountable; but then we also might really learn something about the system, ourselves, humanity, etc.
I see that desire to push humanity in Nietzsche as I do in myself. I can get pretty indignant about the apathy that most people express toward doing anything that would push them out of their comfort zone. In high school, one of my friends joked that if I kept up this pace of trying to right all of the world's wrongs, I'd eventually lose my mind. She prophesized I would be a babbling crazy person in the street (not too far off for Nietzsche, honestly). Well, I do actually think about that a lot because there sure are times where I know I can't run away to Montana, but if I continue on here, I will lose. my. shit. So what's a girl to do? There is not an easy answer. At least not one that I have come across yet.
Recently, I read a biography of another one of my favorite philosophers Albert Camus. His works are more literary that straight up philosophical treatises and he was criticized heavily for this throughout his life. Readers, including his own friends (like Sartre), expected a logical approach to a problem and got poetic imagery-laden text instead. In the rejection Camus faced, he never stopped addressing the whole. While others focused on the trees, he saw the forest. He internalized the quote from Nietzsche at the top - that we represent the bridge between what we came from and what we can be. Critical of both the French colonial forces AND the Algerian armed resistance movements, Camus refused to take sides, preferring to work with civilians on the ground who were stuck in between the cycle of violence perpetrated by both groups. Indeed, his commitment to a cause likely led to his demise as well, but he too left behind a legacy of ideas and actions for succeeding generations to consider.
In today's world of constant internet outrage, I can sympathize with Camus not wanting to take a side. It's easy to jump on the latest cause bandwagon and to vociferously state an opinion from the safety of your smartphone screen. But that's virtual. Sure, you support the cause by posting a meme, signing a petition, et. al, but what else will you do about it? It's a lot more difficult to walk outside and find someone who needs help. Especially when no one quite understands what you're doing (poor Nietzsche). I know I come off as a luddite many times, but there has to be a balance between how we can use technology to our advantage and what we rely on it for (no boredom, ever!!) Panem et circenses meet res ipsa loquitur - we're doing this shit to ourselves and it's only getting worse.
19 July 2015
Do You Have To Use So Many Cuss Words?
I don't like too many movies. I have blogged about a few on here, true, but in general, I prefer television to film. The format of tv shows is more akin to chapter books, allowing for development of character and plot in a much more elaborate way than most movies are able to capture in their short amount of time.
That being said, my favorite movie of all time is actually about nothing - The Big Lebowski (I alluded to characters in The Big Lebowski in a previous post, but I would like to expound on the philosophy of that movie in more detail). Why do I say it's about nothing? Well, there are nihilists and they "belieef in nussing," but the movie on a whole is also about nothing in particular. When someone says, "what is it about?" and I try to describe it, the plot sounds terribly blase, or if I go into detail, incoherent. It's about a kidnapping? And bowling? And a rug? And a guy who drinks White Russians? And feminist art? And pornography? AND nihilists? Well, yes, it is about all of those things, but in no particular way. In fact, as the viewer, you are dropped into the world of "The Dude," aka Jeffery Lebowski, a washed up former hippie who does not seem to work, but likes to smoke pot, drink and go bowling. But you really don't know too much about him beyond what you see - his back story is hazy, his friends are an odd collection of misfits and he seems to try to do the right thing, but mainly he wants to be left to do what he wants. With this guy, The Dude, as our guide throughout the movie, it's hard for it to be about much of import when you first watch it. If watched once, the viewer would likely think, "That was ridiculous! I laughed, it was funny....blah blah." But, it's a grower of a film. With there being no real purpose for much of anything that happens in the plot, and in fact, even when the main characters plan for a particular outcome, it's botched somehow; the deeper meaning is that it mirrors the course of our lives.
Three characters, in particular, are avatars for aspects of our own being, which I will relate to Freudian terms of id, ego and superego because I think most of us have a general understanding of what is meant by each of those. The Dude is our baseline desire or "id", The Stranger is our "ego," and Walter is our "superego." Our lives are strung together by us, represented by the Stranger (Sam Elliot). He introduces us to The Dude and the story, and sums it up at the end. We do that for ourselves all of the time, furthering the narrative of what is "us" versus someone else. The ego is what we present to the world, and thusly, the Stranger presents to the viewer a coherent storyline and sensibility to the entire plot.
The Dude, as aforementioned, represents our desires. He's a lazy hedonist - not willing to really work for some pie-in-the-sky dream of jet-setting worldwide or owning a lot of expensive material items - but most definitely desirous of being able to continue to partake in that which he enjoys on a most basic level without any effort. His chill vibe is unyielding and in the midst of any sort of obstacle to him being able to just "be" actually ends up with him being annoyed and frustrated to the point of being at a loss for words. It is only when he is met with the harsh reality of knowing that his status quo chill will never be reobtained UNLESS he deals with the problem at hand that he actually begins to figure out how to solve the problem.
The third avatar of all of our personalities that appears is Walter, the Superego. He's an energetic absolutist who touts the rules that he holds near and dear to him. He is always reminding everyone of the "right" way to be. When you think about that nagging inner voice that tells you to make sure you exercise or go to church or not steal someone's lunch from the refrigerator at work, that's the "fault" of the superego. It represents the internalized values that form the principles by which we all stand by. In fact, in this movie, Walter actually calls out the nihilists as being bullshit because they do not have an ethos and are not to be feared because their own lack or suppression of a superego will lead them to inaction or even destruction in the end.
I have written much about our general desire for control over our lives when in fact we have very little. The illusion of control is strong and stability helps to cultivate that further, but in reality, everything we hold dear could end tomorrow (bus accident, asteroid, some other "act of god" scenario). So why not side with the nihilists? I come back to this point quite often. Maybe Walter was wrong and their belief in nothing mattering is the best course of action because it would potentially free the actor up to do whatever with no consequence. Yet, just like the nihilists in the movie, it's an unobtainable standard. They DO believe in something, in fact. And when faced with not getting what they wanted, they belie their supposed core tendency to not believe in anything by whining. So maybe to rephrase, the movie about nothing is really about something, just not anything tangible or even easily graspable upon first watch. There are many other aspects of the film that I have not mentioned (like, the dream sequences in the movie are only the Dude's, which is fitting if he represents the id or deeply unconscious mind)
It is only through the union or balance of our psychological components that we are able to actually achieve success. In my plea from December, I did ask for a Stranger to come into my life, as I was pulled between the baseness of pursuing only my own needs and what I knew to be "right." I did not know how to reconcile these two ends of the spectrum. I still don't entirely have the answer, but I do think I need to watch the movie again for some clues as to how to obtain it.
That being said, my favorite movie of all time is actually about nothing - The Big Lebowski (I alluded to characters in The Big Lebowski in a previous post, but I would like to expound on the philosophy of that movie in more detail). Why do I say it's about nothing? Well, there are nihilists and they "belieef in nussing," but the movie on a whole is also about nothing in particular. When someone says, "what is it about?" and I try to describe it, the plot sounds terribly blase, or if I go into detail, incoherent. It's about a kidnapping? And bowling? And a rug? And a guy who drinks White Russians? And feminist art? And pornography? AND nihilists? Well, yes, it is about all of those things, but in no particular way. In fact, as the viewer, you are dropped into the world of "The Dude," aka Jeffery Lebowski, a washed up former hippie who does not seem to work, but likes to smoke pot, drink and go bowling. But you really don't know too much about him beyond what you see - his back story is hazy, his friends are an odd collection of misfits and he seems to try to do the right thing, but mainly he wants to be left to do what he wants. With this guy, The Dude, as our guide throughout the movie, it's hard for it to be about much of import when you first watch it. If watched once, the viewer would likely think, "That was ridiculous! I laughed, it was funny....blah blah." But, it's a grower of a film. With there being no real purpose for much of anything that happens in the plot, and in fact, even when the main characters plan for a particular outcome, it's botched somehow; the deeper meaning is that it mirrors the course of our lives.
Three characters, in particular, are avatars for aspects of our own being, which I will relate to Freudian terms of id, ego and superego because I think most of us have a general understanding of what is meant by each of those. The Dude is our baseline desire or "id", The Stranger is our "ego," and Walter is our "superego." Our lives are strung together by us, represented by the Stranger (Sam Elliot). He introduces us to The Dude and the story, and sums it up at the end. We do that for ourselves all of the time, furthering the narrative of what is "us" versus someone else. The ego is what we present to the world, and thusly, the Stranger presents to the viewer a coherent storyline and sensibility to the entire plot.
The Dude, as aforementioned, represents our desires. He's a lazy hedonist - not willing to really work for some pie-in-the-sky dream of jet-setting worldwide or owning a lot of expensive material items - but most definitely desirous of being able to continue to partake in that which he enjoys on a most basic level without any effort. His chill vibe is unyielding and in the midst of any sort of obstacle to him being able to just "be" actually ends up with him being annoyed and frustrated to the point of being at a loss for words. It is only when he is met with the harsh reality of knowing that his status quo chill will never be reobtained UNLESS he deals with the problem at hand that he actually begins to figure out how to solve the problem.
The third avatar of all of our personalities that appears is Walter, the Superego. He's an energetic absolutist who touts the rules that he holds near and dear to him. He is always reminding everyone of the "right" way to be. When you think about that nagging inner voice that tells you to make sure you exercise or go to church or not steal someone's lunch from the refrigerator at work, that's the "fault" of the superego. It represents the internalized values that form the principles by which we all stand by. In fact, in this movie, Walter actually calls out the nihilists as being bullshit because they do not have an ethos and are not to be feared because their own lack or suppression of a superego will lead them to inaction or even destruction in the end.
I have written much about our general desire for control over our lives when in fact we have very little. The illusion of control is strong and stability helps to cultivate that further, but in reality, everything we hold dear could end tomorrow (bus accident, asteroid, some other "act of god" scenario). So why not side with the nihilists? I come back to this point quite often. Maybe Walter was wrong and their belief in nothing mattering is the best course of action because it would potentially free the actor up to do whatever with no consequence. Yet, just like the nihilists in the movie, it's an unobtainable standard. They DO believe in something, in fact. And when faced with not getting what they wanted, they belie their supposed core tendency to not believe in anything by whining. So maybe to rephrase, the movie about nothing is really about something, just not anything tangible or even easily graspable upon first watch. There are many other aspects of the film that I have not mentioned (like, the dream sequences in the movie are only the Dude's, which is fitting if he represents the id or deeply unconscious mind)
It is only through the union or balance of our psychological components that we are able to actually achieve success. In my plea from December, I did ask for a Stranger to come into my life, as I was pulled between the baseness of pursuing only my own needs and what I knew to be "right." I did not know how to reconcile these two ends of the spectrum. I still don't entirely have the answer, but I do think I need to watch the movie again for some clues as to how to obtain it.
28 May 2015
I'm a "Realist"
Am I a realist or a cynic? Is there a difference? Have I deluded myself into just thinking I'm "right' about the world when in fact I am just some curmudgeon? Or maybe I'm both right AND a curmudgeon? Hmm...
So here's my definition of the cynic: Those who think, at the core, that it's ALL fucked...that there's only this one go-around in this exact consciousness, that we're not living an eternal other-existence in another reality, that nothing can ever be the same, that Gatsby was so fucking delusional to think he could repeat the past....is that a cynic? Is that a realist? Is that me? The signs are everywhere but we're in denial a lot of the time or at least most of us are most of the time. Even the cynic is - unless they're living like Diogenes on the street somewhere - it's pretty easy to get drawn in to all of the mucky-muck of the daily grind, the veil of maya, as the Buddhists call it. It's alluring for sure.
The religious, the people who truly believe in "god," probably think their faith in "god" is similar to my conviction of nothingness, that I have faith in some sort of cynical conception of godliness. That's not true (and maybe you, as the reader, will say I am splitting hairs here), but I attest to knowing nothing. I would claim that I have an utter "lack" of faith. Lacking faith is not the same as possessing faith. Lack means without, an absence of, a deficiency in, a fault. To lack some thing or some aspect does not mean it would truly exist in any one modal form (Plato was so wrong about that. But he [inadvertently, or not] reinforced a binary way of thinking on literally everyone in the Western world).
At the depth of meditation or the nadir of anxiety or even the ecstasy of physical climax, the realization of how empty everything is hits. Sure, all of those emptinesses are different and affect the feeler in various ways. Yet, all are equally void of any real substance. Think about your last great orgasm - what was there but a feeling, a fleetingness that cannot be reclaimed in that same exact way. It's pure experience. As your thoughts and everyday clutter melts away, you're left with just being and you have to be able to just accept that.
This has been said many times over in many incarnations - Jesus, Buddha, Kierkegaard, Sartre, Camus, Pirsig, Watts - and yet, to re-realize their point for yourself is worth the iterations. I know I have written about this before in previous posts, but I think I have realized two things more recently:
1. that being a cynic (without being a nihilist) is freeing. It frees the player of real heavy decision making knowing death is an actual endpoint.
2. To clarify the first point, this is not a post advocating suicide, but in actuality, one that promotes going out and enjoying life. In effect, I'm advocating more hedonism.
So whether or not Camus truly said, "Should I kill myself or have a cup of coffee?" may still be up for debate, but I'm sure as hell having another cup of coffee.
So here's my definition of the cynic: Those who think, at the core, that it's ALL fucked...that there's only this one go-around in this exact consciousness, that we're not living an eternal other-existence in another reality, that nothing can ever be the same, that Gatsby was so fucking delusional to think he could repeat the past....is that a cynic? Is that a realist? Is that me? The signs are everywhere but we're in denial a lot of the time or at least most of us are most of the time. Even the cynic is - unless they're living like Diogenes on the street somewhere - it's pretty easy to get drawn in to all of the mucky-muck of the daily grind, the veil of maya, as the Buddhists call it. It's alluring for sure.
The religious, the people who truly believe in "god," probably think their faith in "god" is similar to my conviction of nothingness, that I have faith in some sort of cynical conception of godliness. That's not true (and maybe you, as the reader, will say I am splitting hairs here), but I attest to knowing nothing. I would claim that I have an utter "lack" of faith. Lacking faith is not the same as possessing faith. Lack means without, an absence of, a deficiency in, a fault. To lack some thing or some aspect does not mean it would truly exist in any one modal form (Plato was so wrong about that. But he [inadvertently, or not] reinforced a binary way of thinking on literally everyone in the Western world).
At the depth of meditation or the nadir of anxiety or even the ecstasy of physical climax, the realization of how empty everything is hits. Sure, all of those emptinesses are different and affect the feeler in various ways. Yet, all are equally void of any real substance. Think about your last great orgasm - what was there but a feeling, a fleetingness that cannot be reclaimed in that same exact way. It's pure experience. As your thoughts and everyday clutter melts away, you're left with just being and you have to be able to just accept that.
This has been said many times over in many incarnations - Jesus, Buddha, Kierkegaard, Sartre, Camus, Pirsig, Watts - and yet, to re-realize their point for yourself is worth the iterations. I know I have written about this before in previous posts, but I think I have realized two things more recently:
1. that being a cynic (without being a nihilist) is freeing. It frees the player of real heavy decision making knowing death is an actual endpoint.
2. To clarify the first point, this is not a post advocating suicide, but in actuality, one that promotes going out and enjoying life. In effect, I'm advocating more hedonism.
So whether or not Camus truly said, "Should I kill myself or have a cup of coffee?" may still be up for debate, but I'm sure as hell having another cup of coffee.
08 March 2015
What's so funny about peace, love and understanding?
This weekend was an impromptu 4 day one due to 2 snow days in a row at the tail end of the week. While it was nice to be off, on Thursday I noticed that one of my guinea pigs was refusing solid food. This is a bad sign in an animal whose entire purpose in life seems to be to eat and poop. Since I was waaaay snowed in on Thursday, I had to improvise by blending up some veggies and hay pellets and trying to hand-feed her. She was mildly receptive, but not really gobbling it up. On Friday I was able to order special food from Amazon for one day shipping and went and got some baby food to hand-feed with in the interim. The food never arrived on Saturday (and I had to actually call Amazon this morning for a refund). She is on the special food now (I found it at a small, local pet store that I forgot existed until today). I don't know if she will make it through this time - once guinea pigs stop eating solid food, it's kind of a bad sign/sign of the end.
Vets don't seem to know what to do with these little guys either. The last one I had that needed medical care spent 2 scary nights alone at the vet where they shaved his teeth down (which I don't even think was the problem - they just wanted to charge me $2000) and died as soon as I brought him home (heart attack). So I don't really want to put her through the same stressors so either she will gert better or die naturally at home.
But after the many trials and tribulations of trying to feed a tiny mammal out of an even tinier syringe, I am tired. But also thoughtful. I have had 4 rescue guinea pigs and 1 store-bought pig. The store bought one died after a year (so sad). The rescue pigs have been heartier, though I don't know from where they originate. The 2 girls I have now are both around 5 or 6 years old. They are cute and friendly and just kind of hang out all day. There's not too much to interact with as they do not have the intellect of a dog or cat, but they are cuddly. On Friday night, after hand-feeding Twinkie, I sat in front of the heater in my bedroom with her on my lap and just cried. Here I was, on a Friday night, sitting in my robe, on the floor in the bedroom, crying my eyes out over a mammal with the life span of maybe 8 years. But I just couldn't help it. Whenever animals or babies are sick, I become a wreck of a human. I just start weeping for every little life out there. As she sat on my lap, I could hear her heartbeat and I watched as she looked around, but sat contentedly without moving. I thought that maybe I could have done more in the time that I had her - taken her out every single day, given her better treats, just been there to do more. But I can't because I work, and I have to keep on truckin' every day, even if that means not always being able to do what I would really like to do all of the time.
That led me to think about what we prioritize in society. Do we prioritize caring for the pets and the people in our lives? I mean, I think the average person would say they personally do, but I don't think our culture does. In fact, I would argue that our system is set up to do the opposite - move on, buy something new, trudge forward no matter what. The elderly are so quaint, with their reminiscing, but come on grandma, just die already so we can bulldoze your house. I mean, sure it's not as disturbing
as that, but I am sure as you read that line, you smirked a little bit. The past is boring! I teach history - I know what most people think about having to look back, and even worse, learn from it. Gasp.
When I was in a better place yesterday, I read this Atlantic article about stressors and their effect on the unborn fetus. Written by a husband and father, it raised a lot of interesting issues regarding how maternity leave is handled in the US. It seems as though there are two poles - the traditionally conservative view of protecting the fetus (more so than the mother's health) by limiting what the mother can/should do during pregnancy, and the more modern feminist view of a woman having complete equality to men no matter what, including not being labeled as "disabled" during their pregnancy (and thereby not getting any special treatment during those 9 months by their employers). I'm weighing in to say both sides are wrong here. Sure, I might disagree that pregnant women shouldn't be labeled as disabled -it's kind of weird honestly- but maybe a different distinction that disallows their employer from requesting that they continue on as though their condition is completely NOT a hindrance to their expected duties. We have to focus on equity and not absolute equality in cases like these. Otherwise we put undue stress on everyone. If we truly care about women, children, families, traditions, equity in the workplace, gender pay gaps, etc, we need to recognize individuals as unique and that a one-size-fits-all ruling will likely harm many people it was created to help. For example, single mothers or women working part time are less likely to be able to feasibly take much time off before or after their babies are born due to the fact that they might HAVE to work. This may also stress the mother, and subsequently, the baby out, causing a host of health problems for both in the future. Their employment status is not always due to their "inability to work hard" or their education level. There are a lot of good people out there today who are well-educated, qualified and willing to work, but there's nothing out there but a sea of entry level, retail and various part-time jobs.
That led me to think about what we prioritize in society. Do we prioritize caring for the pets and the people in our lives? I mean, I think the average person would say they personally do, but I don't think our culture does. In fact, I would argue that our system is set up to do the opposite - move on, buy something new, trudge forward no matter what. The elderly are so quaint, with their reminiscing, but come on grandma, just die already so we can bulldoze your house. I mean, sure it's not as disturbing
as that, but I am sure as you read that line, you smirked a little bit. The past is boring! I teach history - I know what most people think about having to look back, and even worse, learn from it. Gasp.
When I was in a better place yesterday, I read this Atlantic article about stressors and their effect on the unborn fetus. Written by a husband and father, it raised a lot of interesting issues regarding how maternity leave is handled in the US. It seems as though there are two poles - the traditionally conservative view of protecting the fetus (more so than the mother's health) by limiting what the mother can/should do during pregnancy, and the more modern feminist view of a woman having complete equality to men no matter what, including not being labeled as "disabled" during their pregnancy (and thereby not getting any special treatment during those 9 months by their employers). I'm weighing in to say both sides are wrong here. Sure, I might disagree that pregnant women shouldn't be labeled as disabled -it's kind of weird honestly- but maybe a different distinction that disallows their employer from requesting that they continue on as though their condition is completely NOT a hindrance to their expected duties. We have to focus on equity and not absolute equality in cases like these. Otherwise we put undue stress on everyone. If we truly care about women, children, families, traditions, equity in the workplace, gender pay gaps, etc, we need to recognize individuals as unique and that a one-size-fits-all ruling will likely harm many people it was created to help. For example, single mothers or women working part time are less likely to be able to feasibly take much time off before or after their babies are born due to the fact that they might HAVE to work. This may also stress the mother, and subsequently, the baby out, causing a host of health problems for both in the future. Their employment status is not always due to their "inability to work hard" or their education level. There are a lot of good people out there today who are well-educated, qualified and willing to work, but there's nothing out there but a sea of entry level, retail and various part-time jobs.
So I am asking, what can we do to change this course we're currently on as a society - a course that finds every expenditure a chore. Sometimes a society needs to INVEST (which is a nice way of saying, spend some goddamn money) to get returns. If you want to clean up poor neighborhoods and end achievement gaps between the US and other countries, money and time has to be invested into improving public schools, not just constantly poking at them. This would include actually training and hiring quality teachers, ensuring that the school is run well, that funds are used properly, etc. It does not necessarily mean that a new curriculum or testing strategy should be adopted. Sure, Finland is homogenous and has a small population so their methods work for them, blah blah. I have heard all of the criticisms of Finland's schools and why it wouldn't work here. If that's the case, shouldn't Finland take the easy way out and just test the shit out of their kids? I mean, why spend time and energy and money to pay teachers more, have more class options and activities for a cohort of children that could learn easily from drill and kill since there's less diversity to overcome? Well, because the teachers and education community in Finland VALUE what they do by providing students with an enriched environment full of openness, play and personal inquiry.
And to think, this all started with thoughts about a sick guinea pig. Some days I would just like to turn my brain off.
27 February 2015
Introvert seeking advice....?
Need some advice here:
Being a introvert is not something that seems to be very well understood by people who are not introverted themselves. I understand the extrovert and what makes them tick – does it make me able to be like them? No. But I understand them or at least I think I do. The introvert is much more difficult to navigate and I think probably has more subtypes or degrees of, although since I do not speak from experience, I am sure that there are degrees of extroversion as well. I think I finally have come to realize what my other introverted friends have meant when they've said to me over the years, "yea, I just need time to recharge and be away from people." I resisted that line of thinking for a long time. I thought, "nah, I'm so busy! I can't possibly be like that!" But yeah, I am, and I am coming out of the closet as someone who needs to get the fuck away from people sometimes before I go insane.
I assume that people think that I might be an extrovert since I am a teacher AND I have a high level of patience for annoying shit, but that is not the case. The first few days (or even weeks) of school are very hard for me. Not only do I have the back to school night with parents looming over my head, but the first few meetings with the students are typically painfully quiet. As a teacher, i usually detest quietness in my room. If it’s quiet, it’s awkward, yet even an atmosphere of awkwardness cannot bring me to really successfully engage in small talk. Awkwaaaaaard. Introversion has probably led me to miss out on certain opportunities in my life – from leadership roles, to friendships, to cool hang outs and parties, but generally, I am OK with that. I do not have an overwhelming sense or fear of missing out. My "fomo" factor is pretty low.
Being a introvert is not something that seems to be very well understood by people who are not introverted themselves. I understand the extrovert and what makes them tick – does it make me able to be like them? No. But I understand them or at least I think I do. The introvert is much more difficult to navigate and I think probably has more subtypes or degrees of, although since I do not speak from experience, I am sure that there are degrees of extroversion as well. I think I finally have come to realize what my other introverted friends have meant when they've said to me over the years, "yea, I just need time to recharge and be away from people." I resisted that line of thinking for a long time. I thought, "nah, I'm so busy! I can't possibly be like that!" But yeah, I am, and I am coming out of the closet as someone who needs to get the fuck away from people sometimes before I go insane.
I assume that people think that I might be an extrovert since I am a teacher AND I have a high level of patience for annoying shit, but that is not the case. The first few days (or even weeks) of school are very hard for me. Not only do I have the back to school night with parents looming over my head, but the first few meetings with the students are typically painfully quiet. As a teacher, i usually detest quietness in my room. If it’s quiet, it’s awkward, yet even an atmosphere of awkwardness cannot bring me to really successfully engage in small talk. Awkwaaaaaard. Introversion has probably led me to miss out on certain opportunities in my life – from leadership roles, to friendships, to cool hang outs and parties, but generally, I am OK with that. I do not have an overwhelming sense or fear of missing out. My "fomo" factor is pretty low.
Recently I have been approached to take a leadership role in two institutions. This post is not to toot my own horn about being chosen. It’s actually to admit the following- I’d prefer to be left alone or to have never been asked at all. Same thing goes for praise or awards. It’s great to be awarded and flattering to be recognized for doing good work, but at the same time, I would prefer to just fade into the background. It’s weird that someone who has studied history for so long would really prefer to not be recognized for their merits, since I am talking about people who have been recognized for theirs day after day, but I think it actually makes sense. History: A Cautionary Tale. I have seen the damage that fame and power have done to many. The degree to which people change when exposed to recognition happens over and over again. I know that anyone could be corrupted. Even the most moral and reasonable of people can change. I am afraid that it could happen to me too. But I think the introversion is more of the driving factor here. I don’t want people looking at me, noticing me, and worse, criticizing me for actions I take. Is that cowardly? Maybe. I would see it more as making me so uncomfortable that I would be distracted from doing a good job at whatever it was that I was supposed to be doing. I actually have so much fear about becoming pregnant one day because of the amount of attention that it would bring to my being. People, strangers even, would stop to talk to me, ask me questions, etc. AHH!! Someone hit the panic button!
I can talk with the best of them, but I have to really know a person and be invested in the relationship. Like I mentioned earlier, if I have to make small talk, it is torturous. It’s not because I am mean or I dislike anyone, but more so because I just cannot deal with the awkwardness of having to restrain myself from saying things that I shouldn’t around “mixed company” – in fact, this is what makes me so hesitant when it comes to thinking about being in a leadership role. I might have good ideas, or even the ability to inspire people (*toooooot*vomit*), but I cannot fathom having to rein myself in even in the slightest. Again, is this selfish and uncalled for? Should I just grow the fuck up? I don’t know. But I do know that the discomfort that it would bring to me to have to bite my tongue makes me want to avoid situations in which I had to like the plague. I think the reason I love the British so much when it comes to their style of humor revolves around their ability to turn the rules of decorum on their heads while still being delightfully polite.
I talk a lot about never fearing love and reaching out to embrace all mankind and all that jazz on this blog, but sometimes I really just want to kick someone's ass. I wonder if Gandhi ever said something like that. I dislike being associated with the word curmudgeon, but it's probably not too far off from my being true (on the inside at least). But that is probably the introvert in me - trying to exert some control over the situation by avoiding it. I not so secretly DO hate people sometimes. But I try to get over my hatred by acting kindly. I’d really truly love to be the swift hand of justice sometimes though and just smack someone who deserves it clean across the cheek with no chance of them retaliating. BAM! I’d LOVE to slap the stupid out of people, and I do, in my random rantings and in my mind. Like a slap for that lady who didn’t smile for 40 years to prevent wrinkles. SLAP! Or those people who didn’t vaccinate their children and then infected other people’s children with measles. SLAP! Or that state senator in Montana who wants to ban yoga pants in public. SLAP! Self-absorbed, self-aggrandizing, endlessly concerned with the wrong issues and causes....*sigh*
But I have to try to not do that. And maybe just laugh instead.
So yeah, if you have any advice, let me know. I'm not interested in changing my entire nature, but I could use some tips to make life easier.
24 January 2015
Physics, the Universe and God
This is a part II to the previous post, which I felt was incomplete, but that I posted anyway because I couldn't quite figure out how to reconcile what I was really relaying.
I have been reading a lot of science-based non-fiction lately. It started by watching Cosmos which re-ignited a piece of my brain that had laid dormant for a while - scientific inquiry. I always really liked science in high school. Science AND math actually. They provide answers to problems in a tidy way that just makes you feel accomplished. I have been waaaay out of that scene for a while though, so my skills of actually completing any sort of mathematical equations would be very compromised at this point without some serious remediation.
The book I am currently reading on this subject, "You Are Here: A Portable History of the Universe," by Christopher Potter, is more of a history of science, specifically science dedicated to understanding the universe. The author was in a related field, but personally had some issues with understanding his "place in it all" and the point of what he was doing. And I think that philosophical inquiry regarding our understanding of, well, our understanding of everything, is key to actually being able to understand! Haha. Confusing. But Socrates was able to formulate this idea over 2,000 years ago too - All I know that I know nothing. We've come further into our knowing, but we still don't know anything. It's like we have gathered more puzzle pieces but we still don't know what the puzzle will look like once we snap them all together. Hell, we have like half a face and 3/4 of the border and we're still squinting at it like a damn magic eye picture, trying to figure out what the fuck we're looking at (also, for the record, I can't see ANYTHING in those magic eye pics, so I might be useless when it comes to figuring out what the universe IS or ISN'T). And I am not saying we shouldn't be collecting those puzzle pieces. We just can't get bogged down that the puzzle will solve ANY earthly concern for us in the grand scheme of things.
Potter discusses the "standard theory" of the universe and how messy it is. How it can almost be nothing in the end since it's so nebulous and seemingly disjointed. I haven't finished the book yet, but even so far throughout, he has been pointing out how little we really know. Or how un-definitive our attempts have been to make sense of the universe. We have the atom, we break it open. We have the smallest particles we think we can find, we find smaller ones. We have anti-particles, theorized particles, and a slew of unanswered questions cropping up for each question we do happen to answer. The physicists looking for a "unifying theory" are looking for "god" in numbers. And it strikes me as funny because I doubt they'd believe that to be true, but it's why someone like Sam Harris is so laughable to me. I can't take this genius of neuroscience seriously when he talks, and especially when he criticizes religion and spiritual leaders, because he's so full of shit. He's positing a new vision of god - just one that he can back up with numbers.
Math is the "universal" language, but it's not something that exists out in the wilds of nature. It's a recognizable pattern that HUMANS imposed on something that has existed without explanation since before our appearance on this planet. So what if the Fibonnaci sequence makes sense with this series of numbers? We figured that out after the fact of its existence. Nature is the ultimate existence precedes essence.
Once you stop looking for god in math and science, in spiritual realms, in others, even in yourself, that's when everything starts making sense because you realize that nothing does. The unity is the experience of living more than anything else. From person to person, those experiences aren't ever the same, and will never be- so the endless judgments we cast only makes our shared interactions painful. But we can overcome these tendencies somehow. I have a hard time knowing exactly how. I keep trying to express love and understanding, only to find myself getting stuck in the rut of a hate-fest and cycles of frustration and despair. What I keep coming back to is that ultimately, the goal is to live and not simply to avoid death, which is a scary thought because living entails risks and potentially death. But if I cozy up in my home eternally, or even just never extend myself to try and break down walls both physically and mentally between myself and others, well, then what good am I? Any suggestions are welcome.
I have been reading a lot of science-based non-fiction lately. It started by watching Cosmos which re-ignited a piece of my brain that had laid dormant for a while - scientific inquiry. I always really liked science in high school. Science AND math actually. They provide answers to problems in a tidy way that just makes you feel accomplished. I have been waaaay out of that scene for a while though, so my skills of actually completing any sort of mathematical equations would be very compromised at this point without some serious remediation.
The book I am currently reading on this subject, "You Are Here: A Portable History of the Universe," by Christopher Potter, is more of a history of science, specifically science dedicated to understanding the universe. The author was in a related field, but personally had some issues with understanding his "place in it all" and the point of what he was doing. And I think that philosophical inquiry regarding our understanding of, well, our understanding of everything, is key to actually being able to understand! Haha. Confusing. But Socrates was able to formulate this idea over 2,000 years ago too - All I know that I know nothing. We've come further into our knowing, but we still don't know anything. It's like we have gathered more puzzle pieces but we still don't know what the puzzle will look like once we snap them all together. Hell, we have like half a face and 3/4 of the border and we're still squinting at it like a damn magic eye picture, trying to figure out what the fuck we're looking at (also, for the record, I can't see ANYTHING in those magic eye pics, so I might be useless when it comes to figuring out what the universe IS or ISN'T). And I am not saying we shouldn't be collecting those puzzle pieces. We just can't get bogged down that the puzzle will solve ANY earthly concern for us in the grand scheme of things.
Potter discusses the "standard theory" of the universe and how messy it is. How it can almost be nothing in the end since it's so nebulous and seemingly disjointed. I haven't finished the book yet, but even so far throughout, he has been pointing out how little we really know. Or how un-definitive our attempts have been to make sense of the universe. We have the atom, we break it open. We have the smallest particles we think we can find, we find smaller ones. We have anti-particles, theorized particles, and a slew of unanswered questions cropping up for each question we do happen to answer. The physicists looking for a "unifying theory" are looking for "god" in numbers. And it strikes me as funny because I doubt they'd believe that to be true, but it's why someone like Sam Harris is so laughable to me. I can't take this genius of neuroscience seriously when he talks, and especially when he criticizes religion and spiritual leaders, because he's so full of shit. He's positing a new vision of god - just one that he can back up with numbers.
Math is the "universal" language, but it's not something that exists out in the wilds of nature. It's a recognizable pattern that HUMANS imposed on something that has existed without explanation since before our appearance on this planet. So what if the Fibonnaci sequence makes sense with this series of numbers? We figured that out after the fact of its existence. Nature is the ultimate existence precedes essence.
Once you stop looking for god in math and science, in spiritual realms, in others, even in yourself, that's when everything starts making sense because you realize that nothing does. The unity is the experience of living more than anything else. From person to person, those experiences aren't ever the same, and will never be- so the endless judgments we cast only makes our shared interactions painful. But we can overcome these tendencies somehow. I have a hard time knowing exactly how. I keep trying to express love and understanding, only to find myself getting stuck in the rut of a hate-fest and cycles of frustration and despair. What I keep coming back to is that ultimately, the goal is to live and not simply to avoid death, which is a scary thought because living entails risks and potentially death. But if I cozy up in my home eternally, or even just never extend myself to try and break down walls both physically and mentally between myself and others, well, then what good am I? Any suggestions are welcome.
19 January 2015
Personal identifiers and control. ..
The question of why I do not like labels has been something that I have not been able to entirely resolve for a while now. When I say I am an atheist or feminist, but that I don't want to have that label attached to my being, I get weird reactions. People WANT me to pick a side, a label, an identifier. And I resist. But why? Last night, it struck me, finally, as to why. An identifier is another form of control.
A few other elements and experiences have gone into this revelation. My partner waxed poetically about knowing me for so long (22 years....) and how he never imagined being with me. The idea of "me" as a continuity, as something that could be pinned down to represent my very essence, well, that just upset "me." Because even though I have, mentally, experienced "myself" this entire time, I don't even know exactly if there IS continuity of any sort internally. There's a narrative that I can create. Or that others can, to achieve some sort of "Huntress-ness" but is that really real?
Does this mean that my "authentic" self isn't...authentic? Well, no. Because even with authenticity, I don't believe that there is a one-true-self that anyone can achieve. Authenticity refers to the experience of being human, not the experience of being human AS Huntress S. Jackson, esq. Ha! Just kiddin...but seriously, what is more true than existence precedes essence when it really comes down to bare bones? We exist. Just like animals. Just like a tree. No better, no different in the grand scheme of things. Just as mortal and expendable. Which is what drives so many humans to madness. We'd rather do anything than admit to ourselves that we're "just talking meat" -quelle horreur! We're posting pictures of our sandwiches online to foster a connection to someone, anyone who might be listening. What the....?
At the end of Joseph Conrad's "The Heart of Darkness," the narrator Marlow lies to Kurtz's fiancée, telling her his last words were about her. In truth, his last words were ambiguous...perhaps lamenting what he'd become, perhaps about what he'd miss out on, or maybe more broadly, about the disturbing depths all of us are capable of reaching. Kurtz's labels as a successful captain, a well educated and civilized man were temporary, as temporary as we all are. Kurtz's authenticity was real in either chaper of his life - only his circumstances had changed so much that he appeared to be a completely different person to those who had not been with him as he made his transformation.
Is it dangerous to label one's self? Not necessarily. Is it naive? Potentially. As circumstances in your life progress, holding on to labels can keep you from being open to change. The easiest way to think about the trouble with labels is by using an example of a nrgative one. Think about negative self talk you might engage in on a daily basis - your nose is too big, you're overweight, your freckles are ugly...blah, blah. These labels might prevent you from being confident in your abilities. Or you might avoid talking to someone that you might really like. Using your labels to control your experience of the world is an easy trap to fall into, but in the end, it's not worth the effort it takes to constantly compartmentalize everything around you, including yourself because you're also cutting off possible new worlds.
A few other elements and experiences have gone into this revelation. My partner waxed poetically about knowing me for so long (22 years....) and how he never imagined being with me. The idea of "me" as a continuity, as something that could be pinned down to represent my very essence, well, that just upset "me." Because even though I have, mentally, experienced "myself" this entire time, I don't even know exactly if there IS continuity of any sort internally. There's a narrative that I can create. Or that others can, to achieve some sort of "Huntress-ness" but is that really real?
Does this mean that my "authentic" self isn't...authentic? Well, no. Because even with authenticity, I don't believe that there is a one-true-self that anyone can achieve. Authenticity refers to the experience of being human, not the experience of being human AS Huntress S. Jackson, esq. Ha! Just kiddin...but seriously, what is more true than existence precedes essence when it really comes down to bare bones? We exist. Just like animals. Just like a tree. No better, no different in the grand scheme of things. Just as mortal and expendable. Which is what drives so many humans to madness. We'd rather do anything than admit to ourselves that we're "just talking meat" -quelle horreur! We're posting pictures of our sandwiches online to foster a connection to someone, anyone who might be listening. What the....?
At the end of Joseph Conrad's "The Heart of Darkness," the narrator Marlow lies to Kurtz's fiancée, telling her his last words were about her. In truth, his last words were ambiguous...perhaps lamenting what he'd become, perhaps about what he'd miss out on, or maybe more broadly, about the disturbing depths all of us are capable of reaching. Kurtz's labels as a successful captain, a well educated and civilized man were temporary, as temporary as we all are. Kurtz's authenticity was real in either chaper of his life - only his circumstances had changed so much that he appeared to be a completely different person to those who had not been with him as he made his transformation.
Is it dangerous to label one's self? Not necessarily. Is it naive? Potentially. As circumstances in your life progress, holding on to labels can keep you from being open to change. The easiest way to think about the trouble with labels is by using an example of a nrgative one. Think about negative self talk you might engage in on a daily basis - your nose is too big, you're overweight, your freckles are ugly...blah, blah. These labels might prevent you from being confident in your abilities. Or you might avoid talking to someone that you might really like. Using your labels to control your experience of the world is an easy trap to fall into, but in the end, it's not worth the effort it takes to constantly compartmentalize everything around you, including yourself because you're also cutting off possible new worlds.
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