My village is beautiful. Small and fragile, it lies in a valley lush and fertile. It is filled with color and song and laughter. It has no great history or heraldry, but it is built on plain ideals and and modest hopes for prosperity, though the steeple in the village square can be seen for miles by anyone who knows where to look. All who see it know this village is a place of uncommon nobility.
My village is rich. The population is gentle and simple, and look past their lack of wealth in favor of treasures within. Those from other villages may often scoff at my own citizens, because of what they don't have, or how they spend their free time, or who they choose to invite within the gates, or how they act when they are unseen, among themselves, but this does not matter. The people in my village know and love and accept each other as-is.
My village is imperfect. Despite the altruism of the day, the night is occasionally characterized by crimes both petty and horrific. It causes pain, to be sure. Not every crime is immediately apparent. The village is not without its dark secrets. What makes the village unique is that every perpetrator regrets his crimes as soon as they are committed. It's true that the people you hurt the most are the people you love.
My village is imperiled. Whether from those who threaten subtly from within, or malicious warlords without, or natural disasters, at any time the peace and beauty enjoyed by the citizens can be violently snatched away. Though it has weathered destruction before, the barricades built to protect it from this thing or that erode too quickly. All that will hold it together if the unthinkable happens are the bonds between the people therein.
Pray for my village, and I will pray for yours, and we may yet survive this life. SCWA
Monday, January 31, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
The General's Campaign
‘Twas another successful campaign. The General sat atop a hill and surveyed the landscape. Before him, countless white tents filled with men who knew not the worthlessness of their lives. Behind him, burning paths of destruction, each dotted with bloodied, uniformed corpses surrounding a single, beautiful victim. Holding back bitter tears, he turned away.
“Poo-tee-weet?”
* * * * *
FFF-55 Vol. II.
* * * * *
FFF-55 Vol. II.
Friday, January 28, 2011
To Live Is to Die
When a man lies he murders
Some part of the world
These are the pale deaths
Which men miscall their lives
All this I cannot bear
To witness any longer
Cannot the kingdom of salvation
Take me home
(Metallica/Paul Gerhardt)
Some part of the world
These are the pale deaths
Which men miscall their lives
All this I cannot bear
To witness any longer
Cannot the kingdom of salvation
Take me home
(Metallica/Paul Gerhardt)
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Tragedy
My attempt at a "flash fiction Friday" post: tell a story in exactly fifty-five words. More here. Enjoy, if you can.
FFF-55 Vol. I.
* * * * *
What happened was tragic, to be sure. And though she pretended outwardly to be unfazed, she wore her trauma like a spiny armor, preventing anyone from coming near her vulnerabilities ever again. Bitterness wound its way about her heart and head like a serpent. In the end, her distance from us was the real tragedy.
FFF-55 Vol. I.
* * * * *
What happened was tragic, to be sure. And though she pretended outwardly to be unfazed, she wore her trauma like a spiny armor, preventing anyone from coming near her vulnerabilities ever again. Bitterness wound its way about her heart and head like a serpent. In the end, her distance from us was the real tragedy.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Square One
13 August 2010 (Unfinished)
Well, here we are again. I'm making another run at finishing my education.
For the record, the primary reason I'm doing this isn't for the betterment of my self, my family, or my career. I'm doing this because, year after year, I stubbornly put something related to a degree in my annual objectives at work. And, year after year, I fail to meet that particular objective. I've now run out of viable excuses that will hold off the suspicions of not taking my job seriously enough for Salt Mine, Inc. to keep investing my annual salary. It's time to move.
Of course (for the record), I know the potential benefits of betterment for my self, family, career, etc. Sort of. I know them the way I know the contents of a book for which I've read summaries, or seen a movie version, or read the dust jacket over and over. I know what the book is about, who the main characters are, the plot, etc, but I still can't say I've read the book, and I'm missing all the intricacies and details which are truly essential to understanding it. It's the same with the benefits of finishing my degree. I don't really know them because, well, I haven't taken this step yet.
Not that I haven't tried. At the age when I was supposed to be finishing school, I was foolishly trying to work full time also, mostly because I had no idea how financial aid was supposed to work and neither did my parents. Bless them, they gave me the benefit of the doubt that I knew what I was supposed to be doing. And why shouldn't I? I'd just graduated from a prestigious college-prep boarding school. Also, I was tough, a real man finally stepping into the world. Unfinished, yes, but ready to grow and accept my role in life, whatever it may be, however unprepared I was for it.
The truth is that I had a wondrous ruse set up around myself. I was building/living the life I thought I was supposed to have at that point, not knowing the first step in how to get there for real. While most of my friends were off at some university (all but one person in my graduating class went to college right away, and that one guy had a law degree and had built and sold at least one financial firm in NYC by our ten year reunion), I believed I was experiencing 'real life' at 'ground level.' I considered most of my high school classmates pretentious, and wanted no part in how they saw the world. And though I fantasized about driving fancy cars and being able to buy expensive electronic things, those were really just fantasies, the way people imagine maybe they'll win the lottery one day. In truth, I didn't have any real interest in rising above the means and lifestyle to which I became accustomed in my parents' house. I was settled on a long, solid middle-class, blue collar life.
Maybe that's true. It's what I think being honest with myself means now. Another part of being honest with myself is saying that I was absolutely scared to death to step outside that box. Forget not knowing how to do it, I had no idea what was beyond those finite borders except a swirling vortex I wouldn't recognize and couldn't navigate. I knew other people had more things, went more places, spent more money, smiled and laughed more often... but I didn't know why, and I certainly didn't ascribe any of these things to their life experiences or education or income. The real truth is I was solidly, staunchly ignorant of what an adult life entailed. It's embarrassing to think it in such plain terms now.
And then, life happened to me. Between working 40 hours a week, and carrying 12 credit hours, I eventually was kicked out of the College of Engineering because I couldn't hold the minimum GPA and couldn't pass Calculus II. But I still had that 40 hour/week job, and I was in a relationship with an awesome girl who really had her life together, and I supposed that maybe I just needed to take a break. A tiny voice inside me told me then that if I stopped enrolling, semester after failing semester, I'd never go back. It was mostly right.
I know now that maybe the years following my academic charlie foxtrot were necessary to get myself together. At that point in my life, I'd spent all my 20 years building an impenetrable wall around myself. I grew up in an addictive home, watching my mother be emotionally and sometimes physically abused, and watching my father exist as a functional drunk. Our house was a terrible, dysfunctional drama made rich with beautiful hints of the real people my parents were under their codependent and addictive personalities. Needless to day, even in my twenties, I had a lot of emotional growing up to do. It didn't help that I tried doing it as a married man. But thanks to so many, many people and things, I started to uncover the festering state of my emotions, I started healing. I started to see that, not only could I really become the man I imagined I'd be, or that I could start to make real choices along the way, but that I could exceed my own expectations. That I should exceed them.
I gave myself permission to be happy and successful. It's a journey I'm still on, and a struggle I still put myself through, but I wonder what my life would be like if I'd been stubborn (or smart) enough to finish school way back then, get my Bachelor's degree and a good job, get married and have a family, and all the rest without actually discovering and starting to solve my emotional problems. Would I be having this same conversation with myself, but from the other side of the table? I will never know. Another very important lesson I have learned throughout this process is that I only get one chance at every day, and when it's gone, or when 100 or 1000 of them are gone, they're gone for good.
But now, here I am, back at square one, responsible for educating myself in order to fulfill a promise I should have made to myself twenty years ago. That promise wouldn't involve any wives or children or career plans, but if kept would more than satisfy any new responsibilities I may have to the aforementioned. This new attempt, forced upon me by my self-inflicted job objectives, will be my third and smallest attempt. I am not looking at degree programs or minimum requirements or planning graduation dates, I'm just looking for a math class.
That's right, a community college math class to not only get my feet wet but refresh so many of the skills I'll need to pass technical and science-y courses required for the eventually planned degree degree and graduation. It's appalling to me that I'm really no different than any of my graduate-degree holding coworkers in that I've forgotten how to take derivatives and integrate the area under a curve, but unlike them I'll be asked to re-learn these skills and re-prove proficiency. And that's just the math. Once this baby step is taken, I need to begin again at the point where my previous two attempts left off.
So I've started this process of learning how to get back into school. I'm looking at course catalogs and tuition and fee schedules. I'm reading up on financial aid. I have to contact my old institutions to get transcripts, work with my company on reimbursement, and make appointments with counselors. Most of this will have to be done on my own time. I don't even have time to cut the grass each week.
Not only is this process arduous and inconvenient, it's scary as hell. I'm finding the more I understand needs to be done, the more terrified I become. And it's humbling. The thought that I, at this age, not only have to go through this crap, but am having difficulty understanding it, is making me way less than happy. As I look at each website and print out papers and forms, I find myself hiding them from view because I don't really want people to know what I'm doing, let alone ask questions. I know this is for my betterment, etc., but so far this is proving to be one of the most difficult things I may have to do this year.
Well, here we are again. I'm making another run at finishing my education.
For the record, the primary reason I'm doing this isn't for the betterment of my self, my family, or my career. I'm doing this because, year after year, I stubbornly put something related to a degree in my annual objectives at work. And, year after year, I fail to meet that particular objective. I've now run out of viable excuses that will hold off the suspicions of not taking my job seriously enough for Salt Mine, Inc. to keep investing my annual salary. It's time to move.
Of course (for the record), I know the potential benefits of betterment for my self, family, career, etc. Sort of. I know them the way I know the contents of a book for which I've read summaries, or seen a movie version, or read the dust jacket over and over. I know what the book is about, who the main characters are, the plot, etc, but I still can't say I've read the book, and I'm missing all the intricacies and details which are truly essential to understanding it. It's the same with the benefits of finishing my degree. I don't really know them because, well, I haven't taken this step yet.
Not that I haven't tried. At the age when I was supposed to be finishing school, I was foolishly trying to work full time also, mostly because I had no idea how financial aid was supposed to work and neither did my parents. Bless them, they gave me the benefit of the doubt that I knew what I was supposed to be doing. And why shouldn't I? I'd just graduated from a prestigious college-prep boarding school. Also, I was tough, a real man finally stepping into the world. Unfinished, yes, but ready to grow and accept my role in life, whatever it may be, however unprepared I was for it.
The truth is that I had a wondrous ruse set up around myself. I was building/living the life I thought I was supposed to have at that point, not knowing the first step in how to get there for real. While most of my friends were off at some university (all but one person in my graduating class went to college right away, and that one guy had a law degree and had built and sold at least one financial firm in NYC by our ten year reunion), I believed I was experiencing 'real life' at 'ground level.' I considered most of my high school classmates pretentious, and wanted no part in how they saw the world. And though I fantasized about driving fancy cars and being able to buy expensive electronic things, those were really just fantasies, the way people imagine maybe they'll win the lottery one day. In truth, I didn't have any real interest in rising above the means and lifestyle to which I became accustomed in my parents' house. I was settled on a long, solid middle-class, blue collar life.
Maybe that's true. It's what I think being honest with myself means now. Another part of being honest with myself is saying that I was absolutely scared to death to step outside that box. Forget not knowing how to do it, I had no idea what was beyond those finite borders except a swirling vortex I wouldn't recognize and couldn't navigate. I knew other people had more things, went more places, spent more money, smiled and laughed more often... but I didn't know why, and I certainly didn't ascribe any of these things to their life experiences or education or income. The real truth is I was solidly, staunchly ignorant of what an adult life entailed. It's embarrassing to think it in such plain terms now.
And then, life happened to me. Between working 40 hours a week, and carrying 12 credit hours, I eventually was kicked out of the College of Engineering because I couldn't hold the minimum GPA and couldn't pass Calculus II. But I still had that 40 hour/week job, and I was in a relationship with an awesome girl who really had her life together, and I supposed that maybe I just needed to take a break. A tiny voice inside me told me then that if I stopped enrolling, semester after failing semester, I'd never go back. It was mostly right.
I know now that maybe the years following my academic charlie foxtrot were necessary to get myself together. At that point in my life, I'd spent all my 20 years building an impenetrable wall around myself. I grew up in an addictive home, watching my mother be emotionally and sometimes physically abused, and watching my father exist as a functional drunk. Our house was a terrible, dysfunctional drama made rich with beautiful hints of the real people my parents were under their codependent and addictive personalities. Needless to day, even in my twenties, I had a lot of emotional growing up to do. It didn't help that I tried doing it as a married man. But thanks to so many, many people and things, I started to uncover the festering state of my emotions, I started healing. I started to see that, not only could I really become the man I imagined I'd be, or that I could start to make real choices along the way, but that I could exceed my own expectations. That I should exceed them.
I gave myself permission to be happy and successful. It's a journey I'm still on, and a struggle I still put myself through, but I wonder what my life would be like if I'd been stubborn (or smart) enough to finish school way back then, get my Bachelor's degree and a good job, get married and have a family, and all the rest without actually discovering and starting to solve my emotional problems. Would I be having this same conversation with myself, but from the other side of the table? I will never know. Another very important lesson I have learned throughout this process is that I only get one chance at every day, and when it's gone, or when 100 or 1000 of them are gone, they're gone for good.
But now, here I am, back at square one, responsible for educating myself in order to fulfill a promise I should have made to myself twenty years ago. That promise wouldn't involve any wives or children or career plans, but if kept would more than satisfy any new responsibilities I may have to the aforementioned. This new attempt, forced upon me by my self-inflicted job objectives, will be my third and smallest attempt. I am not looking at degree programs or minimum requirements or planning graduation dates, I'm just looking for a math class.
That's right, a community college math class to not only get my feet wet but refresh so many of the skills I'll need to pass technical and science-y courses required for the eventually planned degree degree and graduation. It's appalling to me that I'm really no different than any of my graduate-degree holding coworkers in that I've forgotten how to take derivatives and integrate the area under a curve, but unlike them I'll be asked to re-learn these skills and re-prove proficiency. And that's just the math. Once this baby step is taken, I need to begin again at the point where my previous two attempts left off.
So I've started this process of learning how to get back into school. I'm looking at course catalogs and tuition and fee schedules. I'm reading up on financial aid. I have to contact my old institutions to get transcripts, work with my company on reimbursement, and make appointments with counselors. Most of this will have to be done on my own time. I don't even have time to cut the grass each week.
Not only is this process arduous and inconvenient, it's scary as hell. I'm finding the more I understand needs to be done, the more terrified I become. And it's humbling. The thought that I, at this age, not only have to go through this crap, but am having difficulty understanding it, is making me way less than happy. As I look at each website and print out papers and forms, I find myself hiding them from view because I don't really want people to know what I'm doing, let alone ask questions. I know this is for my betterment, etc., but so far this is proving to be one of the most difficult things I may have to do this year.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Beforethoughts: On the Road...Again
10 January, 2011
Once more I'm picking up the baton and trying to finish this race. My head is a fog of mixed feelings.
You see, what I've done is get myself a math course at the community college. Math, specifically Calculus II, was my nemesis in my First Attempt at Big University. The math program at BU was notorious for "weeding out" the less successful engineering students (my major at the time). I came in with a strong high school math background and went right into Calculus I. I passed, but with a grade typical of that time in my life, characterized more by my family and personal dramas than the traditional college experience. I went into the next course, Calculus II, and failed miserably. Four times.
I took as many gen ed courses as I could in the meantime, and everything in my curriculum that didn't have Calc II as a prereq. After two years, I'd run out of money and, more importantly, gumption. I guess I was a pretty classic college dropout. I knew it wasn't uncommon, and I was still more accomplished than many of the people I was working with, so didn't feel too awful about it. I began to focus on building the life I had.
That part of my life is still progressing; it constitutes what has been and will be the core of my time on this Earth: personal discovery, healing, family, career. I am proud of what I have, both in the sense of who I've become (so far), and what I've managed to 'collect' along the way. My internal trophy case is admirably full for a man my age, especially in non-material accomplishments, but one shelf is almost completely empty. I've been keeping that space open for twenty years; it's time to earn something to put there.
I'm starting to get a little panicked and a lot philosophical about what it will mean to be back in school. On one hand, I'm going through the familiar embarrassment of needing to go back at all. I'm 20 years out of high school and I still haven't finished a degree. Also, the course is elementary level for the ultimate goal: a Bachelor of Science. I have five more math courses to take, and I'm not even sure taking them at community college will do any more than boost my confidence in the subject. And if Big University doesn't allow the transferred credits, I'll have to repeat the courses there before I move into core curriculum.
On the other hand, I'm excited to actually be on the path again. Some fortune cookie I had once said something like the worst false step you can take is no step at all. That the direction I've been moving for a really long time. The idleness started with discouragement, continued with a straw house of security on existing accomplishment and skill, and has since been perpetuated by fear of looking like a fool. To satisfy the people around me who try to get me moving, and also satisfy the parts of myself that know damn well they're right, I talk big, make token plans, and ultimately use whatever seems most valid at the time to excuse myself for not acting. Now, if I can get over that hump and get into a routine of progressive coursework, I may actually get myself a degree.
The prospect simultaneously excites and scares the hell out of me.
I have no idea how a degree will change things. (Well, I have some idea, professionally, but zilch in ever other aspect). I concluded a bunch of years ago that it wasn't fear of failure that held me back, but fear of success. Because success always comes at a price. I have a good (enough) thing going to live a decent, modest life as long as I don't plan too big and nothing terrible happens, like the economy crashing, and waves of nationwide unemployment for instance. The fact is, unless faced with a real threat of loss of security, making the extra effort and upsetting everyone's routines doesn't seem worth the short-term trouble, and the long-term is too far away to make sacrifices. What I concluded is that even if I woke up one morning with a (real) PhD on the wall, without having actually gone through the motions of earning it, I still would be afraid of change.
Why? I know much of it has to do with self-confidence. Much of me believes I already have more than I deserve [link], and labels my inaction as Humility. In other words, you keep to your place in life and be happy you have so much already. Other parts of me don't want to stick out, are afraid to ask for more, fear the inevitable questioning of even legitimately earned credentials. Most of the reasons are rediculous. I usually play the role of smart underachiever, a big fish in a little pond. I fear that when I move to the big pond, I'll be a pretty small fish--really nothing special at all.
I know better than to seriously believe any of these things are truth. I've been a professional for years, and done work impressive, and in some cases superior, to people around me with advanced education and experience in my field. There's nothing stopping me from making the connections necessary to move up in my career, and the older I get the more I realize I have not only the technical expertise, but also the common sense and the people skills. There's nothing stopping me except one thing.
My boss calls a degree a ticket to the dance. I've seen over and over again that this is true. Although sometimes I get a temporary guest pass, and sometimes people will step out to interact with me, it doesn't matter that I can waltz my ass off in the lobby, I'm simply not allowed in the ballroom.
I do know of one change that will happen when I finish a degree: a huge weight will be lifted off me. What kind of man will I be when I no longer live with the fear of being judged an imposter, a charlatan who pretends to have legitimate and valuable skills? What will it feel like, for a moment in my life, to feel like a success in the one way I have always felt like a failure?
I am determined to find out. On your mark...
Once more I'm picking up the baton and trying to finish this race. My head is a fog of mixed feelings.
You see, what I've done is get myself a math course at the community college. Math, specifically Calculus II, was my nemesis in my First Attempt at Big University. The math program at BU was notorious for "weeding out" the less successful engineering students (my major at the time). I came in with a strong high school math background and went right into Calculus I. I passed, but with a grade typical of that time in my life, characterized more by my family and personal dramas than the traditional college experience. I went into the next course, Calculus II, and failed miserably. Four times.
I took as many gen ed courses as I could in the meantime, and everything in my curriculum that didn't have Calc II as a prereq. After two years, I'd run out of money and, more importantly, gumption. I guess I was a pretty classic college dropout. I knew it wasn't uncommon, and I was still more accomplished than many of the people I was working with, so didn't feel too awful about it. I began to focus on building the life I had.
That part of my life is still progressing; it constitutes what has been and will be the core of my time on this Earth: personal discovery, healing, family, career. I am proud of what I have, both in the sense of who I've become (so far), and what I've managed to 'collect' along the way. My internal trophy case is admirably full for a man my age, especially in non-material accomplishments, but one shelf is almost completely empty. I've been keeping that space open for twenty years; it's time to earn something to put there.
I'm starting to get a little panicked and a lot philosophical about what it will mean to be back in school. On one hand, I'm going through the familiar embarrassment of needing to go back at all. I'm 20 years out of high school and I still haven't finished a degree. Also, the course is elementary level for the ultimate goal: a Bachelor of Science. I have five more math courses to take, and I'm not even sure taking them at community college will do any more than boost my confidence in the subject. And if Big University doesn't allow the transferred credits, I'll have to repeat the courses there before I move into core curriculum.
On the other hand, I'm excited to actually be on the path again. Some fortune cookie I had once said something like the worst false step you can take is no step at all. That the direction I've been moving for a really long time. The idleness started with discouragement, continued with a straw house of security on existing accomplishment and skill, and has since been perpetuated by fear of looking like a fool. To satisfy the people around me who try to get me moving, and also satisfy the parts of myself that know damn well they're right, I talk big, make token plans, and ultimately use whatever seems most valid at the time to excuse myself for not acting. Now, if I can get over that hump and get into a routine of progressive coursework, I may actually get myself a degree.
The prospect simultaneously excites and scares the hell out of me.
I have no idea how a degree will change things. (Well, I have some idea, professionally, but zilch in ever other aspect). I concluded a bunch of years ago that it wasn't fear of failure that held me back, but fear of success. Because success always comes at a price. I have a good (enough) thing going to live a decent, modest life as long as I don't plan too big and nothing terrible happens, like the economy crashing, and waves of nationwide unemployment for instance. The fact is, unless faced with a real threat of loss of security, making the extra effort and upsetting everyone's routines doesn't seem worth the short-term trouble, and the long-term is too far away to make sacrifices. What I concluded is that even if I woke up one morning with a (real) PhD on the wall, without having actually gone through the motions of earning it, I still would be afraid of change.
Why? I know much of it has to do with self-confidence. Much of me believes I already have more than I deserve [link], and labels my inaction as Humility. In other words, you keep to your place in life and be happy you have so much already. Other parts of me don't want to stick out, are afraid to ask for more, fear the inevitable questioning of even legitimately earned credentials. Most of the reasons are rediculous. I usually play the role of smart underachiever, a big fish in a little pond. I fear that when I move to the big pond, I'll be a pretty small fish--really nothing special at all.
I know better than to seriously believe any of these things are truth. I've been a professional for years, and done work impressive, and in some cases superior, to people around me with advanced education and experience in my field. There's nothing stopping me from making the connections necessary to move up in my career, and the older I get the more I realize I have not only the technical expertise, but also the common sense and the people skills. There's nothing stopping me except one thing.
My boss calls a degree a ticket to the dance. I've seen over and over again that this is true. Although sometimes I get a temporary guest pass, and sometimes people will step out to interact with me, it doesn't matter that I can waltz my ass off in the lobby, I'm simply not allowed in the ballroom.
I do know of one change that will happen when I finish a degree: a huge weight will be lifted off me. What kind of man will I be when I no longer live with the fear of being judged an imposter, a charlatan who pretends to have legitimate and valuable skills? What will it feel like, for a moment in my life, to feel like a success in the one way I have always felt like a failure?
I am determined to find out. On your mark...
Friday, January 14, 2011
For Posterity: Liberty Fleet Charter
*****
Mission Statement
Articles of the Fleet
I. The A. Definition: Liberty
B. Responsibilities
1. The Liberty
2. The Council will appoint the Commanding Officer (CO) of all platforms.
3. The Council has final authority over selection of Executive Officer (XO) candidates for all platforms.
2. The Council will appoint the Commanding Officer (CO) of all platforms.
3. The Council has final authority over selection of Executive Officer (XO) candidates for all platforms.
a. When the XO candidate will serve under a CO that is a member of the Council, that member must abstain from the vote for XO selection for his/her platform.
b. If the XO candidate is a member of the Council, he/she must abstain from the vote, and may not participate in any debate or discussion during the selection process.
b. If the XO candidate is a member of the Council, he/she must abstain from the vote, and may not participate in any debate or discussion during the selection process.
C. Membership
1. Council membership is voluntary. Any member may terminate his/her membership at any time, but is expected to give reasonable notice to the rest of the Council.
2. A Council member cannot be removed under reasonable circumstances without first being given ample opportunity to explain questionable or objectionable actions. Removal is by majority vote of remaining Council members.
3. A Council member who takes any hostile actions against the Game or one of its writers, or blatantly acts against the Mission Statement, may be removed from authority by remaining Council members immediately by unanimous vote.
4. If an opening occurs in the Council membership, remaining Council members will make invitations to fill it at their own discretion.
II. Platforms 2. A Council member cannot be removed under reasonable circumstances without first being given ample opportunity to explain questionable or objectionable actions. Removal is by majority vote of remaining Council members.
3. A Council member who takes any hostile actions against the Game or one of its writers, or blatantly acts against the Mission Statement, may be removed from authority by remaining Council members immediately by unanimous vote.
4. If an opening occurs in the Council membership, remaining Council members will make invitations to fill it at their own discretion.
A. Definition: A platform (sometimes called a "sim") is a fictional vessel, station, or other unit to which a unique group of characters is assigned. Each platform operates as an independent unit of Liberty Fleet within established regulations set by the Liberty Fleet Council.
B. Crew: Each platform will be made up of a group of writers collectively called a crew. The crew can be broken down into three types of characters:
B. Crew: Each platform will be made up of a group of writers collectively called a crew. The crew can be broken down into three types of characters:
1. Command Staff: Each platform will have command staff made up of a Commanding Officer (CO) character and an Executive or First Officer (XO) character.
a. Commanding Officer (CO): The CO is the responsible for the platform as a whole, and is the platform crew's representative to the Council.
b. Executive Officer (XO): The XO is responsible for the platform's crew as a single unit, and is the crew's laison to the CO.
c. The CO and XO may not be written by the same writer.
b. Executive Officer (XO): The XO is responsible for the platform's crew as a single unit, and is the crew's laison to the CO.
c. The CO and XO may not be written by the same writer.
2. Department Heads
a. Depending on the platform, the crew will be divided into one or more job-based departments, each having a leader called a Department Head.
b. Department heads report to the XO, are responsible for the crew in their departments, and act as a laison between the XO and their crew.
c. If a department has no real Department Head, its crew report directly to the XO.
b. Department heads report to the XO, are responsible for the crew in their departments, and act as a laison between the XO and their crew.
c. If a department has no real Department Head, its crew report directly to the XO.
3. Crew/Staff Writers: These constitute the main body of writers in the Game.
4. Although the positions described are held by characters, writers of the command staff and department head characters hold real and enforcible responsibilities and authority, within established regulations set by the Liberty Fleet Council.
III. Writers and Characters A. Writers
1. The Game's collection of writers are understood to be the backbone of the Game, and are therefore treated with the utmost respect, keeping in mind that no person is to be treated any differently than any other person.
2. Special arrangements to develop and/or mentor certain writers may be made from time to time, at the discretion of that writer's command staff or department head.
3. Occasionally writers will be recognized for unique achievements and/or contributions to the Game.
2. Special arrangements to develop and/or mentor certain writers may be made from time to time, at the discretion of that writer's command staff or department head.
3. Occasionally writers will be recognized for unique achievements and/or contributions to the Game.
B. Characters
1. Writers participate in the Game by means of their characters, fictional people invented by the writers and assigned to a platform that are involved in the various storylines.
2. It is understood that characters are not real people and will not be treated as such. A definite separation between writers and their characters should be recognized.
2. It is understood that characters are not real people and will not be treated as such. A definite separation between writers and their characters should be recognized.
C. In the case of platform CO and XO, the writers of the characters in these positions hold legitimate authority over the writers on their platforms, and have a final say over the rank, position, and transfer of the associated characters. Only the Liberty Fleet Council can override this authority.
IV. Conflict Impartiality: While the Liberty Fleet Council and its appointed moderators strive for total fairness, in the event of a conflict involving one of the Game's creators, Council members, or command staff, it should be understood that, due to personal relationships between the aforementioned parties, both preexisting and formed in the course of gameplay, no purely impartial conclusion can be reached. V. Amendments: The Liberty Fleet Charter may be changed in whole or part by amendments to provide for varying circumstances as they arise, and to enable Liberty Fleet to adapt as necessary.
Adopted this 2nd day February, 2006, by the current members of the Liberty Fleet Council:
N.S.
B.D.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Self Preservation
A person I love is going through an identity crisis. My texted response was as thoughtful as anyone can get in two 180-character blocks, but I still don't think that's near enough to either encourage her or express thoughts on my own identity crises.
Evidence of such a crisis usually presents itself in ways that are several degrees of cause-effect away from any actual deviation from True Self. Life happens, you make changes. Assuming you know yourself at time zero (who you are, what you enjoy, how to get where you want to be in life, and making progress toward that goal), everything that happens along the course of said progress requires a re-evaluation, and subsequent re-definition. Any list of major life events that apply to most adults old enough to know what I'm talking about will include things like leaving the parental home, educating oneself (or failure to do so), learning how to gain and lose friends, learning how to gain and lose partners, choosing a career, buying a home, getting married, and having a family. That awesome twenty year old you used to be, who had the whole world in his/her hands and could go anywhere and be anything, isn't around anymore. Now you've got responsibilities to provide for and expectations to meet, maybe to more than just yourself, and if any of the decisions that led to those responsibilities and expectations were anything but 100% satisfying, you've made a course correction away from the Goal, and you usually don't even realize it until you see how far away you've moved.
A ship navigating even one degree off course will not only completely miss its intended destination, but find itself in completely unfamiliar territory, if it travels that way long enough or fast enough. And by the time the captain realizes the mistake, the further he's travelled along the wrong course, the larger the correction necessary. Life is the same way, except you can't turn around and go back to where you made the wrong turn.
There's no way to get back to time zero, no way to put a hand on the wheel before you made that first bad choice, or the choice that was good for the time but ultimately didn't pan out the way you thought (or hoped) it would. (Besides, do you really think you'd still like the same things and people now that you did when you were twenty?) Now, you have to deal with the "who" and "what" that you currently are, whether you like that person or not. True, journals, photographs, yearbooks, and old friends are invaluable resources in researching that lost Self, but lamentation is futile, and usually discouraging enough to shame away all the newly realized thoughts of self-realized disappointment. Get back to your life, you'll say to yourself, you're doing fine with what you have, you can't afford to make changes now. And so you do. Until the next time you're slapped in the face with a reminder that life is not the way you want it to be. It's hard to remember that, even if you think your current self isn't worth the trouble it would take to change, the destination self IS.
So, can you afford not to make changes?
It's a question I've faced multiple times since my mid-twenties. I am still asking myself, in varying aspects, if something is the way I want it, and if the answer is "no," the next question is what am I going to do about it. This happens more often than not, and I usually don't have an answer to the second question right away. I have routinely asked this about my friendships, marriage, finances, job, mental and emotional health, and how I see my body. I tell the people around me who are old enough to question these things and understand them that I don't have to go to work every morning, I don't have to come home every night. Nothing is stopping me from getting in my car right now, withdrawing every dime I can get at an ATM, and driving until my car dies. Of course, that's not the plan (today). I know I have this choice, though, and infinitely more like it, and that alone is free-ing in itself. But despite all the things I don't like about myself and my life, I know that without all the things I'd sacrifice to make some of the drastic changes I've considered, I'd be even further behind than I am now.
I'm taking baby steps, and I know I'll really never stop, never reach an end point in this journey. Until my body gives up on me, that is. Maybe that's just the rationalization for my lack of progress thus far, but if it's what gets me started I really don't care. There will always be books to read and apologies to make, arguments to start because they were never finished, and people to whom I've never expressed the real love I have for them. The plan is that I'll get to a little of that stuff today, and if all goes well, I'll get another day to get a little further. And so on. And though there will be a hundred things that get in the way every one of those days, I know this is the only practical course I have, unless I want to get in the car and head to an ATM...
So to my dear loved one, I wish you all the best. You are not alone, nor shall you be at any part of the journey you want me around for. SCWA
Evidence of such a crisis usually presents itself in ways that are several degrees of cause-effect away from any actual deviation from True Self. Life happens, you make changes. Assuming you know yourself at time zero (who you are, what you enjoy, how to get where you want to be in life, and making progress toward that goal), everything that happens along the course of said progress requires a re-evaluation, and subsequent re-definition. Any list of major life events that apply to most adults old enough to know what I'm talking about will include things like leaving the parental home, educating oneself (or failure to do so), learning how to gain and lose friends, learning how to gain and lose partners, choosing a career, buying a home, getting married, and having a family. That awesome twenty year old you used to be, who had the whole world in his/her hands and could go anywhere and be anything, isn't around anymore. Now you've got responsibilities to provide for and expectations to meet, maybe to more than just yourself, and if any of the decisions that led to those responsibilities and expectations were anything but 100% satisfying, you've made a course correction away from the Goal, and you usually don't even realize it until you see how far away you've moved.
A ship navigating even one degree off course will not only completely miss its intended destination, but find itself in completely unfamiliar territory, if it travels that way long enough or fast enough. And by the time the captain realizes the mistake, the further he's travelled along the wrong course, the larger the correction necessary. Life is the same way, except you can't turn around and go back to where you made the wrong turn.
There's no way to get back to time zero, no way to put a hand on the wheel before you made that first bad choice, or the choice that was good for the time but ultimately didn't pan out the way you thought (or hoped) it would. (Besides, do you really think you'd still like the same things and people now that you did when you were twenty?) Now, you have to deal with the "who" and "what" that you currently are, whether you like that person or not. True, journals, photographs, yearbooks, and old friends are invaluable resources in researching that lost Self, but lamentation is futile, and usually discouraging enough to shame away all the newly realized thoughts of self-realized disappointment. Get back to your life, you'll say to yourself, you're doing fine with what you have, you can't afford to make changes now. And so you do. Until the next time you're slapped in the face with a reminder that life is not the way you want it to be. It's hard to remember that, even if you think your current self isn't worth the trouble it would take to change, the destination self IS.
So, can you afford not to make changes?
It's a question I've faced multiple times since my mid-twenties. I am still asking myself, in varying aspects, if something is the way I want it, and if the answer is "no," the next question is what am I going to do about it. This happens more often than not, and I usually don't have an answer to the second question right away. I have routinely asked this about my friendships, marriage, finances, job, mental and emotional health, and how I see my body. I tell the people around me who are old enough to question these things and understand them that I don't have to go to work every morning, I don't have to come home every night. Nothing is stopping me from getting in my car right now, withdrawing every dime I can get at an ATM, and driving until my car dies. Of course, that's not the plan (today). I know I have this choice, though, and infinitely more like it, and that alone is free-ing in itself. But despite all the things I don't like about myself and my life, I know that without all the things I'd sacrifice to make some of the drastic changes I've considered, I'd be even further behind than I am now.
I'm taking baby steps, and I know I'll really never stop, never reach an end point in this journey. Until my body gives up on me, that is. Maybe that's just the rationalization for my lack of progress thus far, but if it's what gets me started I really don't care. There will always be books to read and apologies to make, arguments to start because they were never finished, and people to whom I've never expressed the real love I have for them. The plan is that I'll get to a little of that stuff today, and if all goes well, I'll get another day to get a little further. And so on. And though there will be a hundred things that get in the way every one of those days, I know this is the only practical course I have, unless I want to get in the car and head to an ATM...
So to my dear loved one, I wish you all the best. You are not alone, nor shall you be at any part of the journey you want me around for. SCWA
Monday, January 3, 2011
On Fairness and Deserving
Disclaimers:
1. I am not a pundit, an economist, a sociologist, an anthropologist, or a professional or student in the fields of history or ethics, nor do I have an in-depth understanding of how most non-American, non-Western societies of the world work. Don't read my words as if I'm pretending to be or have any such things.
2. You probably aren't (and don't) either, so if you think I'm off the mark, you probably should keep it to yourself, lest you either (a) make yourself look like a self-righteous tool, and/or (b) expose yourself to the criticism of the thousands of readers my blog has daily.
2b. Really, the blog has exactly 5 readers that I know of, but they'll still chew you up one side and down the other if you flame me, because they're my friends.
3. This entry is heavily fragmented and parenthesized, and was edited with minimal correction of the flow of thought with which it was written. Deal with it.
4. [standard blog disclaimer]
I had a little discussion with my kids in the car over the past weekend, in which I tried to explain a tenet of the world every parent is forced to eventually admit or vainly try to hide: life isn't fair. I elaborated by saying that most people (globally, anyway) have far less than they deserve, while a few people have a great deal more (in some cases, vastly so).
Which begs the question: is the concept of deserving anything even valid?
My desktop dictionary defines the word DESERVE to mean "to be worth of; merit." Dictionary.com goes a little further:
We've already started the discussion at a basic level: a definition. For the moment, we'll keep it just that simple. My daughter, who is seven years old, understands what it means to deserve something as well as she'll ever need to. Indeed, what child does not occasionally exclaim to his/her parent "IT'S NOT FAIR!"? Kids do this because they've been taught by their environments that each person in a more or less equivalent position (siblings, in my example) has a right to expect more or less equivalent goods and services. This idea doesn't get any more complicated above the minor sibling level: it is universal in not only minivans and households, but workplaces, neighborhoods, governments, etc.
Of course, these environments in which kids learn that this is a reasonable expectation has, in almost every case, been falsely created and maintained by parents (you, me, them, and even our own). If my brother Johnny gets a piece of chocolate, I ought to get one too. If his is bigger than mine, I have a right to question it, and get justifiably upset if the heinous injustice isn't corrected. These are fundamental truths in society and are well understood by all humans under the age of, well, two hundred. Of course some societies, families, etc., have evolved to suppress this behaviour (bless them!), but those are definitely the exception as opposed to the rule, and so are not being considered for this discussion.
Even above the parent/child/family level, anyone who's grown up with this innate sense of justice intact thinks this is as natural as turning around to see someone who is behind you. As adults, the expectation is perpetuated by human management of almost every kind.
So how is it, then, that the world has turned into a place where a tiny fraction of the world's population controls such a huge portion of its resources?
(This is a rhetorical question for which I have no explanation. I'm sure, somewhere out there, there are political scientists and economists who could explain it to me, but that isn't the point. I suppose the statement of the question to begin with is merely my own voicing of "IT'S NOT FAIR!")
We regularly live and work in an adult world where the exploitation of inequities between this one and that one are accepted, perpetuated, and forgotten about. So why do we tell our children that, and even act ourselves as if, this isn't true? Because deep down, we know the kids are right. Aren't they?
Even the founders of the government of the greatest modern Democracy on the planet penned it into their charter document: "...all men are created equal..." Well, see there? All *men* are created equal. All white men that is. All white men above a certain age, who own a certain amount of property. Now we're getting into the answer to that rhetorical question... but again it's beside the point. The point is, somebody tried to make the statement generically true to a generically large extent.
But it can't be true.
This excerpt from the Declaration of Independence only speaks to the ideal we'd all like to believe: that when a person exits the womb (or before, based on other beliefs you may or may not have... I'm tangent-crazy here!), he or she is (more excerpts here) "endowed...with inalienable rights..." This is based on the assumption that every person has equal faculties and resources. That notion, of course, is absurd (but you can't tell a budding nation of colonists pissed off at King George III that, can you?)
Let me set you straight, now, on my own beliefs. What I've said so far is that no two people, as much as we'd like to believe otherwise, are alike in what they want, what they can do, or what they have available to do it with. If they were, we'd be like one of those utopian planets from a Star Trek episode. And that's just silly. When people make broad comments about being created equal and such, they are drawing a line of expectation to which everyone will be considered, even if a person's natural position in faculties and resources places them below that line. In such a case (theoretically), allowances are made to compensate for the difference. Even when theory doesn't provide (and when does it ever, when acting alone?), everyone acts as if everyone protected under Jefferson's masterpiece is the same. I understand and appreciate the intent here, as ignorant as the assumption is.
Let me also set you straight on this. Though I'm quoting the Declaration of Independence as evidence that the concept of "deserving" is universal, I'm not just talking about America or Americans, even though we/they do seem to embody the concept of entitlement quite well. Just as all children laugh when feeling joy no matter where or how they're raised, all people feel this inside them. Look at any revolution or civil war that's ever occured in any nation at any period in human history, and try to tell me otherwise.
It is my own personal belief that every person ought to be able to explore, and consequently pursue, whatever it is that makes him/her happy, so long as it doesn't hinder anyone else from doing the exact same thing. To an extent, this is largely the case, thousands of laws notwithstanding, both in the home of the brave and abroad. Who among us doesn't know people who see themselves as living below (or above) their standards, even if those standards seem an extreme of largess or poverty to others? I know men who makes ten times my salary and never seem to be satisfied with their lifestyle, and some who make less than a third who are happier than I think I've ever been. I'm willing to bet that whether or not a person thinks he/she is getting what he/she "deserves" corresponds more to how satisfied said person is with what he/she already has than how much money he/she makes, how much stuff he/she has, or his/her social position.
My crudely drawn conclusions here are that
(1) nobody really deserves anything,
(2) everybody has to make their own way in whatever life they've been given,
(3) real happiness is attainable almost irregardless of the life anyone's been given,
(4) a person's happiness depends more on that person's perspective than his/her abundance or lack thereof, and
(5) with the right attitude and resources, any person can change his/her surroundings sufficiently to gain the privelege of re-evaluating his/her own happiness.
As to the question of how one acquires the resources mentioned in conclusion 5, see the above rhetorical question earlier in the post. Live long and prosper.
1. I am not a pundit, an economist, a sociologist, an anthropologist, or a professional or student in the fields of history or ethics, nor do I have an in-depth understanding of how most non-American, non-Western societies of the world work. Don't read my words as if I'm pretending to be or have any such things.
2. You probably aren't (and don't) either, so if you think I'm off the mark, you probably should keep it to yourself, lest you either (a) make yourself look like a self-righteous tool, and/or (b) expose yourself to the criticism of the thousands of readers my blog has daily.
2b. Really, the blog has exactly 5 readers that I know of, but they'll still chew you up one side and down the other if you flame me, because they're my friends.
3. This entry is heavily fragmented and parenthesized, and was edited with minimal correction of the flow of thought with which it was written. Deal with it.
4. [standard blog disclaimer]
I had a little discussion with my kids in the car over the past weekend, in which I tried to explain a tenet of the world every parent is forced to eventually admit or vainly try to hide: life isn't fair. I elaborated by saying that most people (globally, anyway) have far less than they deserve, while a few people have a great deal more (in some cases, vastly so).
Which begs the question: is the concept of deserving anything even valid?
My desktop dictionary defines the word DESERVE to mean "to be worth of; merit." Dictionary.com goes a little further:
- de·serve [dih-zurv] verb, -served, -serv·ing. –verb (used with object) 1. to merit, be qualified for, or have a claim to (reward, assistance, punishment, etc.) because of actions, qualities, or situation: to deserve exile; to deserve charity; a theory that deserves consideration. –verb (used without object) 2. to be worthy of, qualified for, or have a claim to reward, punishment, recompense, etc.: to reward him as he deserves; an idea deserving of study.
We've already started the discussion at a basic level: a definition. For the moment, we'll keep it just that simple. My daughter, who is seven years old, understands what it means to deserve something as well as she'll ever need to. Indeed, what child does not occasionally exclaim to his/her parent "IT'S NOT FAIR!"? Kids do this because they've been taught by their environments that each person in a more or less equivalent position (siblings, in my example) has a right to expect more or less equivalent goods and services. This idea doesn't get any more complicated above the minor sibling level: it is universal in not only minivans and households, but workplaces, neighborhoods, governments, etc.
Of course, these environments in which kids learn that this is a reasonable expectation has, in almost every case, been falsely created and maintained by parents (you, me, them, and even our own). If my brother Johnny gets a piece of chocolate, I ought to get one too. If his is bigger than mine, I have a right to question it, and get justifiably upset if the heinous injustice isn't corrected. These are fundamental truths in society and are well understood by all humans under the age of, well, two hundred. Of course some societies, families, etc., have evolved to suppress this behaviour (bless them!), but those are definitely the exception as opposed to the rule, and so are not being considered for this discussion.
Even above the parent/child/family level, anyone who's grown up with this innate sense of justice intact thinks this is as natural as turning around to see someone who is behind you. As adults, the expectation is perpetuated by human management of almost every kind.
So how is it, then, that the world has turned into a place where a tiny fraction of the world's population controls such a huge portion of its resources?
(This is a rhetorical question for which I have no explanation. I'm sure, somewhere out there, there are political scientists and economists who could explain it to me, but that isn't the point. I suppose the statement of the question to begin with is merely my own voicing of "IT'S NOT FAIR!")
We regularly live and work in an adult world where the exploitation of inequities between this one and that one are accepted, perpetuated, and forgotten about. So why do we tell our children that, and even act ourselves as if, this isn't true? Because deep down, we know the kids are right. Aren't they?
Even the founders of the government of the greatest modern Democracy on the planet penned it into their charter document: "...all men are created equal..." Well, see there? All *men* are created equal. All white men that is. All white men above a certain age, who own a certain amount of property. Now we're getting into the answer to that rhetorical question... but again it's beside the point. The point is, somebody tried to make the statement generically true to a generically large extent.
But it can't be true.
This excerpt from the Declaration of Independence only speaks to the ideal we'd all like to believe: that when a person exits the womb (or before, based on other beliefs you may or may not have... I'm tangent-crazy here!), he or she is (more excerpts here) "endowed...with inalienable rights..." This is based on the assumption that every person has equal faculties and resources. That notion, of course, is absurd (but you can't tell a budding nation of colonists pissed off at King George III that, can you?)
Let me set you straight, now, on my own beliefs. What I've said so far is that no two people, as much as we'd like to believe otherwise, are alike in what they want, what they can do, or what they have available to do it with. If they were, we'd be like one of those utopian planets from a Star Trek episode. And that's just silly. When people make broad comments about being created equal and such, they are drawing a line of expectation to which everyone will be considered, even if a person's natural position in faculties and resources places them below that line. In such a case (theoretically), allowances are made to compensate for the difference. Even when theory doesn't provide (and when does it ever, when acting alone?), everyone acts as if everyone protected under Jefferson's masterpiece is the same. I understand and appreciate the intent here, as ignorant as the assumption is.
Let me also set you straight on this. Though I'm quoting the Declaration of Independence as evidence that the concept of "deserving" is universal, I'm not just talking about America or Americans, even though we/they do seem to embody the concept of entitlement quite well. Just as all children laugh when feeling joy no matter where or how they're raised, all people feel this inside them. Look at any revolution or civil war that's ever occured in any nation at any period in human history, and try to tell me otherwise.
It is my own personal belief that every person ought to be able to explore, and consequently pursue, whatever it is that makes him/her happy, so long as it doesn't hinder anyone else from doing the exact same thing. To an extent, this is largely the case, thousands of laws notwithstanding, both in the home of the brave and abroad. Who among us doesn't know people who see themselves as living below (or above) their standards, even if those standards seem an extreme of largess or poverty to others? I know men who makes ten times my salary and never seem to be satisfied with their lifestyle, and some who make less than a third who are happier than I think I've ever been. I'm willing to bet that whether or not a person thinks he/she is getting what he/she "deserves" corresponds more to how satisfied said person is with what he/she already has than how much money he/she makes, how much stuff he/she has, or his/her social position.
My crudely drawn conclusions here are that
(1) nobody really deserves anything,
(2) everybody has to make their own way in whatever life they've been given,
(3) real happiness is attainable almost irregardless of the life anyone's been given,
(4) a person's happiness depends more on that person's perspective than his/her abundance or lack thereof, and
(5) with the right attitude and resources, any person can change his/her surroundings sufficiently to gain the privelege of re-evaluating his/her own happiness.
As to the question of how one acquires the resources mentioned in conclusion 5, see the above rhetorical question earlier in the post. Live long and prosper.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Teacher Trouble
I have once again the need to address my kid's teacher in a manner that resembles confrontation as little as possible. So far, it has been easy to be objective about the situation, considering that the Kid, the Wife, and the Teacher have thus far been the only people both involved in and knowledgeable of the situation. The last time I had to do this, I was not so objective.
A couple years ago, I wrote an email to a teacher which, while it accurately represented my feelings, I regretted sending as soon as I clicked the button. I knew that I should have said something, but I was sure I'd overdone it. I was right in so many ways. I found out that the email was received right before a pre-marital counseling session with the teacher, his fiancée, and his minister, and I put things in quite a negative spin for the poor man emotionally. Later during the week, both he and I were at a school function. I took the opportunity to speak to him about the thing, and we made nice.
What I realize in my perfect 20/20 hindsight is that both the nasty email and the making nice conversation were essential elements in the teacher/student and teacher/parent relationships. Also, I seemed to have made a solid impression on him that will never be forgotten, which, considering he is currently a teacher at the Kid's new school, may prove helpful. Hopefully, with this new situation, I can learn from my previous experience and repeat the lasting positive effects.
Now that the thing is long over and done with, I'm posting the email for posterity. Enjoy.
4 June 2008
Mr. H,
I am writing you out of concern for some of the things A has told me about his school year, in particular the emptying of his desk and backpack onto the classroom floor while he was out of the room, and his return to find his belongings in a pile which he was then required to sort through and clean up. Given the limited details I can glean from A's account, I will refrain from speculating on how many people were in the classroom when you did this and while he cleaned up, what condition his desk was in and whether or not he was warned it would be dumped, whether or not this is a common practice for your class and/or the school, and what conversations may have taken place between you and A regarding his organization before and after you did this. These things I will leave for you to explain. You should note that some of his music papers went missing after this, about a week before his orchestra concert. Also, his backpack is personal property, and should not have been subject to either your judgment of cleanliness or decision to empty onto the floor.
It's no secret A is not always an easy child to teach. He becomes easily complacent and can be lazy. He is forgetful, disorganized, and easily distracted. He is emotionally unpredictable. As his father, no one knows this better than I, and trust me when I say that no one has worked harder to curb these tendencies than I have. I was raised and attempt to raise my children on the simple approach that good work and diligence are worth more than shortcuts and excuses, and that once responsibility is accepted it is to be taken seriously.
A's struggle this year has been apparent to us all. In particular for us as parents, this has been a major concern for not only the emotional welfare of our son, but also of our finances as we seek professional help. There are many possible reasons for his behavior, as I have mentioned above, some that may be remedied professionally while others simply grown out of, but it is my very genuine feeling that incidents like this forced reorganization do not help. A's confidence and ability to work independently have regressed this school year. He is emotionally withdrawn, and is reluctant to discuss his school day and assignments.
We are now very concerned that he will find himself emotionally unprepared for fifth grade, which of course will only further the issues he has developed. Considering the conversations we have had with you and J.M regarding his inattention, late and missing assignments, and occasional disruptive behavior, I'm surprised you didn't feel the need to contact us if there were problems with his organization. Also please remember that you agreed at one point to provide me with a weekly summary of his assignments so that, together, we might be able to keep him better on task.
As his teacher, you must understand by now that A is far more than his faults, and his weekly PAW, and his crazy hair. He is a bright and sensitive boy who loves art and music, has a sharp wit and sense of humor, and has been given a great gift of empathy. For anyone to treat him in any way that might embarrass or belittle him is nothing short of bullying, which as I recall is strictly against District policy. While I understand you were probably doing what you thought best in your efforts to teach and guide our son, I can tell you assuredly that it had no constructive effect on A.
This has been a trying year for our family, especially the kids. We as parents have found ourselves in the unique and terrifying position of having to explain death and ethical/religious issues to our kids, the youngest of whom is only five. And as the school year is coming to a close, it seems there will be more work to do besides allowing A to take a breather before his final year at L--- P--- School. I realize it's too late to change the course of A's fourth grade year, but before it ends, I am asking that you make every effort to recognize more than his shortcomings, and that you think about the effect your actions might have on the developing mind of a nine year old boy before you decide what's best for him.
Regards,
etc.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Striving
I once heard a woman describe her husband as the hardest working man she knows. I can't remember if it was in passing, over the radio, in person, or what, but I do remember, very vividly, that in that moment I thought it was the greatest possible compliment anyone (especially a woman) can bestow on a man. I decided right then that, if ever I was able, this is something I wanted people to say about me.
This was fairly long ago, and many things have happened since those days of being a new husband and green young man. I have not always been the man I envisioned that I'd become. In fact, there are very memorable occasions when I've been more like the men I loathed growing up. I suppose these realizations and self-disappointments are part of every man's maturation, and maybe every man takes them as hard as I have, but some days I feel like I'm at the bottom of the barrel as good men go.
I'm still disappointing myself, cheating myself out of what was in my school days an overly-celebrated potential. Maybe I still have that much potential; I'm inclined to think I may even have more (though with considerably less time to realize it.) Certainly I'm still bright, though over the years I've felt the keen edge of my mind dull, and watched my energy and awareness of the world around me shrink to the size of a two-story colonial. I know I have so much--I know so many men, much more successful than me by standard measures, would gladly trade places with me for one reason or another. But this only serves to remind me that, by not making myself the best man I'm capable of being, I'm failing not only myself, but now my beautiful, healthy family. And that makes me the worst kind of man there is.
I'm by far not the hardest working man I (and certainly not my wife) know, but maybe I can still strive for something just as good. To the people I love, I still want to be at the top of some list. Any list so long as I'm at the top. The lists I'm going for now are related more to caring, showing and teaching love, searching for inner peace, and providing a healthy and happy life for my family. But the more I think about it, the more I tend to believe that, the higher I get on all those lists, and all the other smaller ones I try to be on, the closer I will get to becoming that one thing I've always dreamed of being.
SCWA
This was fairly long ago, and many things have happened since those days of being a new husband and green young man. I have not always been the man I envisioned that I'd become. In fact, there are very memorable occasions when I've been more like the men I loathed growing up. I suppose these realizations and self-disappointments are part of every man's maturation, and maybe every man takes them as hard as I have, but some days I feel like I'm at the bottom of the barrel as good men go.
I'm still disappointing myself, cheating myself out of what was in my school days an overly-celebrated potential. Maybe I still have that much potential; I'm inclined to think I may even have more (though with considerably less time to realize it.) Certainly I'm still bright, though over the years I've felt the keen edge of my mind dull, and watched my energy and awareness of the world around me shrink to the size of a two-story colonial. I know I have so much--I know so many men, much more successful than me by standard measures, would gladly trade places with me for one reason or another. But this only serves to remind me that, by not making myself the best man I'm capable of being, I'm failing not only myself, but now my beautiful, healthy family. And that makes me the worst kind of man there is.
I'm by far not the hardest working man I (and certainly not my wife) know, but maybe I can still strive for something just as good. To the people I love, I still want to be at the top of some list. Any list so long as I'm at the top. The lists I'm going for now are related more to caring, showing and teaching love, searching for inner peace, and providing a healthy and happy life for my family. But the more I think about it, the more I tend to believe that, the higher I get on all those lists, and all the other smaller ones I try to be on, the closer I will get to becoming that one thing I've always dreamed of being.
SCWA
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Shards
Prelude
I often view my life as many broken pieces of a whole and beautiful existence waiting to be found and put back together. Here are a few of them for consideration. For any of the three or so readers that may pass by, I will kindly reiterate my disclaimer here.
I. When I turned 18 or so, my mom gave me a mix tape for my birthday. My mom, you see, isn't a great communicator, but passed on her love of music to me, and so as a result, it is a medium we both use extensively to address and express our deepest feelings. All the songs on the tape had meaning, but among the most memorable was that tune by Lynyrd Skynrd called "Simple Man."
You don't need to be a hardcore fan of the band to get this song:
II. This morning, I had the fortunate experience of mixing up my weeks. It was not the fourth Sunday, and I was not on duty in the preschool Sunday school room, as I'd thought. So I sat in the actual church service. Imagine that.
Now, I've discussed in varying degrees my faith and spirituality. According to Doctrine, I'm a clumsy and crude believer at best, but it is not uncommon for the spiritual energy handed out word after word from the pastor, or note after note from the choir or organist, to overwhelm me. It is always difficult for me to comprehend this experience, and it is never easy to have in front of anyone who knows me better than in passing. This isn't the way one should feel attending the church they were married in, their children were baptised in, et cetera, but it's true.
Today's sermon was entitled, "The Melting of the Wicked Witch;" the scripture was the story of Zacchaeus. In short, Rev. K (an avid fan of much of the same fiction so beloved to me) told us how in a particular presence--a Great Presence--all the wickedness upon a person can be stripped away, revealing only that which we were intended to be. (The example in title is after the Wicked Witch is melted by Dorothy's accidental splash, all the soldiers suddenly were glad of her demise. The example in scripture is after Zacchaeus was in the presence of Jesus, offered half his fortune to charity and to recompense those he'd cheated fourfold.)
III. There as been a great underground upheaval in my daily existence. Not a great tragedy, not a grand betrayal, not a life-changing family event... but something massively significant just the same. A part of me was called into question, and because that part sees so little daylight to begin with, its presentation in the glare of interrogation made everyone uncomfortable, and therefore suspicious. As a result, whispers turned to grumbles, and trepidation turned to tears. I learned a long time ago that the best way to save face is the keep the lower half of it shut. So I stopped expressing the questioned part, and, consequently, squelched an important piece of who I am. I am forced into this position until I can express this piece in a manner that is easily understood and survives the scrutiny of public examination. I am very afraid that if it takes too long to figure this out, this piece will again be driven underground, and the parts of my soul that depend on that spiritual and emotional nutrition it provides will fade and darken. And then nothing will have been solved.
IV. Inside me is a Core Being. While it has many complexities, it is essentially a simple Being, created with a Divine Purpose, grown and nurtured with all the Good I've encountered, tempered and taught patience with all the Bad. Everything I do and feel originates from this.
The problem is that in the course of my days, I've built complex filters and structures along and on top of this Core Being. Some have been meant to tweak or modify the experience others have of who and what this Being is, while others are meant to protect the Being from adverse emotional and spiritual surroundings.
The problem this creates is that I've compromised myself. In shielding others from those things I am afraid to show and share (or don't show/share well), I deprive those people of my True Self. In shielding myself from the negativity handed freely from many of the people I surround myself with, I dilute my awareness of my True Self and deprive myself of the ability to share it with people who are willing to accept it as-is.
Obviously, living in a society requires some such filters and protocols. Keeping a job, living in a neighborhood, raising children, and working a marriage all have different requirements of this sort. However, what I've missed, and what I think most people have missed, is that a person's job, friends, neighborhood, and family should all reflect who and what a person really is on the inside, as opposed to a person becoming defined by all those things. In truth, I don't think anyone can be truly defined by the life he lives publicly, though he can delude himself and others into thinking that is the case, and therefore seem happy and content.
What I am in need of (indeed, maybe what we all are in need of) is a Great Presence in which to immerse ourselves, and thereby remove all those filters and structures we put in place to make ourselves and everyone around us happy. What is the Real Happiness that is waiting for us when we strip away all the falseness, and share our True Selves with each other? How much are we losing? How tragic is it that we teach our children not to be True, but to live in this society/world and follow all its rules so we don't stand out (unless by virtue of having mastered those rules)?
Let us all stop a moment and wonder: What if we all just stopped pretending, and allowed ourselves to be the Beings were were made and intended to be?
Postlude
Let this serve as a warning: I might be trying this soon.
I often view my life as many broken pieces of a whole and beautiful existence waiting to be found and put back together. Here are a few of them for consideration. For any of the three or so readers that may pass by, I will kindly reiterate my disclaimer here.
I. When I turned 18 or so, my mom gave me a mix tape for my birthday. My mom, you see, isn't a great communicator, but passed on her love of music to me, and so as a result, it is a medium we both use extensively to address and express our deepest feelings. All the songs on the tape had meaning, but among the most memorable was that tune by Lynyrd Skynrd called "Simple Man."
You don't need to be a hardcore fan of the band to get this song:
- Mama told me when I was young
Come sit beside me, my only son
And listen closely to what I say
And if you do this it'll help you some sunny day
Oh, take your time don't live too fast
Troubles will come and they will pass
Go find a woman you'll find love
And don't forget son there is someone up above
And be a simple kind of man
Be something you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh, won't you do this for me son if you can?
Forget your lust for the rich man's gold
All that you need is in your soul
And you can do this, oh baby, if you try
All that I want for you my son is to be satisfied
And be a simple kind of man
Be something you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh, won't you do this for me son if you can? Oh yes, I will
Boy, don't you worry you'll find yourself
Follow your heart and nothing else
And you can do this, oh baby, if you try
All that I want for you my son is to be satisfied
And be a simple kind of man
Be something you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh, won't you do this for me son if you can?
Baby be a simple, be a simple man
Be something you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
(Songwriters: Ron Van Zant, Gary Rossington; lyrics found here)
II. This morning, I had the fortunate experience of mixing up my weeks. It was not the fourth Sunday, and I was not on duty in the preschool Sunday school room, as I'd thought. So I sat in the actual church service. Imagine that.
Now, I've discussed in varying degrees my faith and spirituality. According to Doctrine, I'm a clumsy and crude believer at best, but it is not uncommon for the spiritual energy handed out word after word from the pastor, or note after note from the choir or organist, to overwhelm me. It is always difficult for me to comprehend this experience, and it is never easy to have in front of anyone who knows me better than in passing. This isn't the way one should feel attending the church they were married in, their children were baptised in, et cetera, but it's true.
Today's sermon was entitled, "The Melting of the Wicked Witch;" the scripture was the story of Zacchaeus. In short, Rev. K (an avid fan of much of the same fiction so beloved to me) told us how in a particular presence--a Great Presence--all the wickedness upon a person can be stripped away, revealing only that which we were intended to be. (The example in title is after the Wicked Witch is melted by Dorothy's accidental splash, all the soldiers suddenly were glad of her demise. The example in scripture is after Zacchaeus was in the presence of Jesus, offered half his fortune to charity and to recompense those he'd cheated fourfold.)
III. There as been a great underground upheaval in my daily existence. Not a great tragedy, not a grand betrayal, not a life-changing family event... but something massively significant just the same. A part of me was called into question, and because that part sees so little daylight to begin with, its presentation in the glare of interrogation made everyone uncomfortable, and therefore suspicious. As a result, whispers turned to grumbles, and trepidation turned to tears. I learned a long time ago that the best way to save face is the keep the lower half of it shut. So I stopped expressing the questioned part, and, consequently, squelched an important piece of who I am. I am forced into this position until I can express this piece in a manner that is easily understood and survives the scrutiny of public examination. I am very afraid that if it takes too long to figure this out, this piece will again be driven underground, and the parts of my soul that depend on that spiritual and emotional nutrition it provides will fade and darken. And then nothing will have been solved.
IV. Inside me is a Core Being. While it has many complexities, it is essentially a simple Being, created with a Divine Purpose, grown and nurtured with all the Good I've encountered, tempered and taught patience with all the Bad. Everything I do and feel originates from this.
The problem is that in the course of my days, I've built complex filters and structures along and on top of this Core Being. Some have been meant to tweak or modify the experience others have of who and what this Being is, while others are meant to protect the Being from adverse emotional and spiritual surroundings.
The problem this creates is that I've compromised myself. In shielding others from those things I am afraid to show and share (or don't show/share well), I deprive those people of my True Self. In shielding myself from the negativity handed freely from many of the people I surround myself with, I dilute my awareness of my True Self and deprive myself of the ability to share it with people who are willing to accept it as-is.
Obviously, living in a society requires some such filters and protocols. Keeping a job, living in a neighborhood, raising children, and working a marriage all have different requirements of this sort. However, what I've missed, and what I think most people have missed, is that a person's job, friends, neighborhood, and family should all reflect who and what a person really is on the inside, as opposed to a person becoming defined by all those things. In truth, I don't think anyone can be truly defined by the life he lives publicly, though he can delude himself and others into thinking that is the case, and therefore seem happy and content.
What I am in need of (indeed, maybe what we all are in need of) is a Great Presence in which to immerse ourselves, and thereby remove all those filters and structures we put in place to make ourselves and everyone around us happy. What is the Real Happiness that is waiting for us when we strip away all the falseness, and share our True Selves with each other? How much are we losing? How tragic is it that we teach our children not to be True, but to live in this society/world and follow all its rules so we don't stand out (unless by virtue of having mastered those rules)?
Let us all stop a moment and wonder: What if we all just stopped pretending, and allowed ourselves to be the Beings were were made and intended to be?
Postlude
Let this serve as a warning: I might be trying this soon.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
I Am
Here's what I am: I am thankful for what I have, even though it may not fit your description of satisfactory. I am working to become a better person, in one way or another, every day, though I am also occasionally complacent. I am sometimes morally weak, but I am also quick to recognize it. I am simple and humble, and as a result, stronger. I am eager to reciprocate and be your true friend, if you're willing to share your true self. I am sexual and raw, and I am almost sorry if that offends you. I am as good as anyone else in this world. I am process-oriented and analytical. I am always trying to be as honest with myself and with you as I can.
Here's what I am not: I am not satisfied with being sedentary. I am not interested in your negative assessment of how I live my life, treat my family, or keep my home. I am not going to spend any time or energy playing social games just to make you feel better about yourself or help you support some emotional facade. I am not lecherous. I am not willing to change who I am because you disapprove. I am not better than anyone else in this world, and neither are you. I am not cold or calculating. I am not always pleasant to be around.
(unfinished)
Here's what I am not: I am not satisfied with being sedentary. I am not interested in your negative assessment of how I live my life, treat my family, or keep my home. I am not going to spend any time or energy playing social games just to make you feel better about yourself or help you support some emotional facade. I am not lecherous. I am not willing to change who I am because you disapprove. I am not better than anyone else in this world, and neither are you. I am not cold or calculating. I am not always pleasant to be around.
(unfinished)
Thursday, July 8, 2010
This Shell
In this shell made of flesh and bone, my self-awareness is convoluted, every sensation and perception made through the veil of the flesh is suspect and subjective. "Real" feelings and expressions require exclusive in and out filtration via nerve endings and vocal chords and synaptic patterns. The Body is the Doorman of the Soul.
But I must remember that this is by design, this was done on purpose. We are wrapped in this shroud, which clouds a senseful experience, for what is likely a very good reason. I can only guess, but I'm sure it has something to do with protection of that Divine Gift which makes us unique beings. It certainly is meant as an interface, both through which to interact in this physical, material world and with each other. How else would we find any means of expression, either in or out, without these senses? To make a crude comparison, even the most powerful computer is useless without a monitor and keyboard.
I must also remember that this body and its limited duration is a gift: a gift which goes wasted and unappreciated by lamenting its limitations. We are simple and fragile creatures, yes, but capable of great civilization, art, language, culture, philosophy, and wonder, and we are learning through science that, simple and fragile though we may be, we are also fascinating and complex, so much so that we are beyond our own understanding--not just us as a species, but the whole world and universe that surrounds us.
We are given only a little while to discover ourselves, our world, and each other. Here's to hoping that I, and those around me, in my physical and spiritual worlds, are able to discover and share our gifts before our time is over, together.
(A bit esoteric, I know, but it was in there, and it had to come out. Do with it what you will.)
But I must remember that this is by design, this was done on purpose. We are wrapped in this shroud, which clouds a senseful experience, for what is likely a very good reason. I can only guess, but I'm sure it has something to do with protection of that Divine Gift which makes us unique beings. It certainly is meant as an interface, both through which to interact in this physical, material world and with each other. How else would we find any means of expression, either in or out, without these senses? To make a crude comparison, even the most powerful computer is useless without a monitor and keyboard.
I must also remember that this body and its limited duration is a gift: a gift which goes wasted and unappreciated by lamenting its limitations. We are simple and fragile creatures, yes, but capable of great civilization, art, language, culture, philosophy, and wonder, and we are learning through science that, simple and fragile though we may be, we are also fascinating and complex, so much so that we are beyond our own understanding--not just us as a species, but the whole world and universe that surrounds us.
We are given only a little while to discover ourselves, our world, and each other. Here's to hoping that I, and those around me, in my physical and spiritual worlds, are able to discover and share our gifts before our time is over, together.
(A bit esoteric, I know, but it was in there, and it had to come out. Do with it what you will.)
Friday, June 11, 2010
Falling
(Fragment, possibly a repeat post. Dated /19/2009)
Falling apart, but not for the first time. Pieces go in different directions, according to their inclinations. I hold onto as much as I'm able, but not much is retained. Orientation has gone awry.
Falling apart, but not for the first time. Pieces go in different directions, according to their inclinations. I hold onto as much as I'm able, but not much is retained. Orientation has gone awry.
I Am Dante's Grand Deception
(Unfinished, dated 3/20/2008)
I am Dante's grand deception.
How am I doing? Well...
Do you want the truth or the cover story? Are you sure? Here goes; it's not pretty.
I'm a mess. I've got a car I left months ago at a dealership, which they consider abandoned, that I just can't pay for. Funny thing, I work at a building whose property is adjacent to this dealership's back lot, and every day when I pull in and every day when I go home, I see my green derelict right against that fence.
Late last summer I got a ticket which I never paid. Several weeks ago my license was suspended. I recently had a birthday, which means the tags on both our vehicles are now expired. If I get pulled over, chances are I won't be driving away in my own car with a ticket my only souvenir.
I am Dante's grand deception.
How am I doing? Well...
Do you want the truth or the cover story? Are you sure? Here goes; it's not pretty.
I'm a mess. I've got a car I left months ago at a dealership, which they consider abandoned, that I just can't pay for. Funny thing, I work at a building whose property is adjacent to this dealership's back lot, and every day when I pull in and every day when I go home, I see my green derelict right against that fence.
Late last summer I got a ticket which I never paid. Several weeks ago my license was suspended. I recently had a birthday, which means the tags on both our vehicles are now expired. If I get pulled over, chances are I won't be driving away in my own car with a ticket my only souvenir.
I Am Jack's Utter Self-Loathing
(Unfinished, dated 12/12/2007)
Alright you, it's time we had a talk.
We both know there are things going on that are completely out of control, and it's time to grab that rope, burn or no burn.
I won't get into specifics here; it's neither the time nor the place, but this crap you pull on yourself is costing money, causing stress, and creating an environment that isn't good for anyone in the family. How can you concentrate on what's real and true? Truth is you can't, and I can't either. The only "real" and "true" is the facade you wear every day as you dress for work, give a progress report, talk about school and
Deal?
Alright you, it's time we had a talk.
We both know there are things going on that are completely out of control, and it's time to grab that rope, burn or no burn.
I won't get into specifics here; it's neither the time nor the place, but this crap you pull on yourself is costing money, causing stress, and creating an environment that isn't good for anyone in the family. How can you concentrate on what's real and true? Truth is you can't, and I can't either. The only "real" and "true" is the facade you wear every day as you dress for work, give a progress report, talk about school and
Deal?
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Unhinged
There was a conflict, which was caused by me answering a non-inflammatory question, and then answering another. There was a warning before the second answer, and a prediction of the outcome, but it was pushed for, and so given.
My prediction was spot on.
Despite my apparent handle on myself and the situation, I found myself feeling confused and emotionally disoriented. I became angry that my warning had not been listened to.
I unhinged.
I shouted, but only briefly. No dishes were broken, no doors kicked in. But I unplugged. Completely. And sat in my own personal abyss for a good few hours. I couldn't muster any memory of the original conflict. I was alone in my mind and in my heart, and couldn't remember how I got there, and was certainly without a clue as to how to get out.
This kind of thing worries me greatly. My apparent ability to ostrich and emotionally ditch myself in the real world could prove dangerous in the wrong situation. Parts of me are dividing, which contributes to a better of understanding of Inside, but also makes it easier for the Team to separate if one or another part gets caught up on a detail, or can't navigate a change in the emotional landscape. It could be disastrous.
My prediction was spot on.
Despite my apparent handle on myself and the situation, I found myself feeling confused and emotionally disoriented. I became angry that my warning had not been listened to.
I unhinged.
I shouted, but only briefly. No dishes were broken, no doors kicked in. But I unplugged. Completely. And sat in my own personal abyss for a good few hours. I couldn't muster any memory of the original conflict. I was alone in my mind and in my heart, and couldn't remember how I got there, and was certainly without a clue as to how to get out.
This kind of thing worries me greatly. My apparent ability to ostrich and emotionally ditch myself in the real world could prove dangerous in the wrong situation. Parts of me are dividing, which contributes to a better of understanding of Inside, but also makes it easier for the Team to separate if one or another part gets caught up on a detail, or can't navigate a change in the emotional landscape. It could be disastrous.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
It's All in Your Head
Well, yes. Yes it is.
But if by "in your head" you mean a perception manufactured by interactions of brain chemicals and synaptic patterns, then I ask you: what isn't? Isn't what we as biological beings perceive through our traditional five senses truly nothing more than our brain's interpretation of electrical impulses sent via our optic nerves, eardrums, taste buds, receptors in the nasal passage, and nerve endings in our epidermis?
Ever seen The Matrix? There's an elaborate, entertaining, and brilliantly told story based solely on the idea that the whole world we live in is a lie, fed to us via biochemical cocktails administered in the right order to produce a tailored perception. Ever taken a philosophy course? For thousands of years, men and women from every culture on our world have asked fundamental questions about what we are, what our purpose is, whether any of the things we think we are surrounded by our whole lives are even real...and what "real" would even mean if the answer was yes. Even heard of psychology? There's a science based 100% on learning how our minds interpret input and feed us a reality that may or may not be the same as that experienced by those around us, and then figuring out ways to manipulate the reality of those whose are different and make theirs more like ours.
So when you give me that look to test whether I'm joking, or ask me if I'm serious, or comment about metaphysical bunk, I will indulge you, and smile. And then you will return the favor by seriously considering that while you think you have your two feet firmly on the ground, and tell me about the things that are truly important and real, you are merely experiencing a similar illusion, custom made for you by your brain and fed to you through a filter of social expectations, cultural influences, and interactions with the people you've surrounded yourself with.
And then we can begin to truly communicate.
But if by "in your head" you mean a perception manufactured by interactions of brain chemicals and synaptic patterns, then I ask you: what isn't? Isn't what we as biological beings perceive through our traditional five senses truly nothing more than our brain's interpretation of electrical impulses sent via our optic nerves, eardrums, taste buds, receptors in the nasal passage, and nerve endings in our epidermis?
Ever seen The Matrix? There's an elaborate, entertaining, and brilliantly told story based solely on the idea that the whole world we live in is a lie, fed to us via biochemical cocktails administered in the right order to produce a tailored perception. Ever taken a philosophy course? For thousands of years, men and women from every culture on our world have asked fundamental questions about what we are, what our purpose is, whether any of the things we think we are surrounded by our whole lives are even real...and what "real" would even mean if the answer was yes. Even heard of psychology? There's a science based 100% on learning how our minds interpret input and feed us a reality that may or may not be the same as that experienced by those around us, and then figuring out ways to manipulate the reality of those whose are different and make theirs more like ours.
So when you give me that look to test whether I'm joking, or ask me if I'm serious, or comment about metaphysical bunk, I will indulge you, and smile. And then you will return the favor by seriously considering that while you think you have your two feet firmly on the ground, and tell me about the things that are truly important and real, you are merely experiencing a similar illusion, custom made for you by your brain and fed to you through a filter of social expectations, cultural influences, and interactions with the people you've surrounded yourself with.
And then we can begin to truly communicate.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Believe
There is more here than we can perceive. As humans, our tissue-synapse based senses are woefully limited in their abilities to detect the world around us. As members of a society ignorant of this fact, we are taught to ignore our other perceptive abilities, and therefore lose them.
If you've never considered this, don't dismiss it simply because it doesn't appear in scientific or medical journals. This isn't just mysterious metaphysical pseudoscience. Take magnetism, for instance: it cannot be seen, felt, heard, tasted, or smelled, yet as a scientific society we know full well that it not only exists, but is a defining force in world we live in. The structure of the atom and the interaction of molecules to form everything from the basic compounds that sustain the chemical systems in our bodies to the weather resistant properties of that stain you just put on your deck would all be considered fiction to a society less scientifically advanced than ours, all because of the attitude that something needs to be seen (heard, felt, tasted, smelled, etc.) to be believed.
Well, don't believe it. We were all given the ability to detect the world around us in more terms than the five senses afford. True, there are forces which are beyond both our perception and our understanding, but this isn't what I'm talking about. Every one of us has an internal antenna that picks up signals the people and things around us are broadcasting, absorbing, or reflecting. The mood in a room, the serenity of a hidden waterfall, the calm of a place deep in the earth, and the joy of a child are all examples of these signals. Can you think of any that you've experienced? Focus on them a moment, and you'll start reaching for the tuner knob on that antenna.
It is one of my greatest goals to broaden my ability to perceive the world around me, and therefore more fully appreciate the gifts I've been given in this lifetime, in this place, with these people around me. Please, join me.
If you've never considered this, don't dismiss it simply because it doesn't appear in scientific or medical journals. This isn't just mysterious metaphysical pseudoscience. Take magnetism, for instance: it cannot be seen, felt, heard, tasted, or smelled, yet as a scientific society we know full well that it not only exists, but is a defining force in world we live in. The structure of the atom and the interaction of molecules to form everything from the basic compounds that sustain the chemical systems in our bodies to the weather resistant properties of that stain you just put on your deck would all be considered fiction to a society less scientifically advanced than ours, all because of the attitude that something needs to be seen (heard, felt, tasted, smelled, etc.) to be believed.
Well, don't believe it. We were all given the ability to detect the world around us in more terms than the five senses afford. True, there are forces which are beyond both our perception and our understanding, but this isn't what I'm talking about. Every one of us has an internal antenna that picks up signals the people and things around us are broadcasting, absorbing, or reflecting. The mood in a room, the serenity of a hidden waterfall, the calm of a place deep in the earth, and the joy of a child are all examples of these signals. Can you think of any that you've experienced? Focus on them a moment, and you'll start reaching for the tuner knob on that antenna.
It is one of my greatest goals to broaden my ability to perceive the world around me, and therefore more fully appreciate the gifts I've been given in this lifetime, in this place, with these people around me. Please, join me.
Friday, April 23, 2010
The Rules
This is something I've worked on intellectually for many years. When I was younger, I could tell you lots of these from memory. I think there were more. Obviously, they didn't all stick by the time I decided to write them down. Dated 28 October 2008.
The Rules
1. The Golden Rule: Treat others the way you want to be treated.
2. The Ketchup Rule: Even if a little is good, more may not necessarily be better, no matter how tempting it may seem. (May also be called the Peanut Butter Rule.)
3. The Iceberg Rule: If you see a bit of something, chances are good there may be a lot more to it than you can tell. Akin to the phrase 'where there's smoke there's fire.'
4. The No-Fault Rule: Don't use other people's mistakes to excuse or justify your own.
5. The Control Rule: You're the only (adult) person you can control. Period. End of story. Any efforts or expectations otherwise will only lead to disappointment. The basic premise behind this rule is RESPECT. The corollary of this is don't expect or allow anyone else to control you. Respect yourself and others enough to take care of your own business and keep it at home, without interfering with others' lives and/or their (in)ability to do the same.
6. The Reciprocation Rule: Don't expect someone else to do a thing for you just because you'd do it for them. This does not override the Golden Rule (#1) because of the Control Rule (#5).
The Rules
1. The Golden Rule: Treat others the way you want to be treated.
2. The Ketchup Rule: Even if a little is good, more may not necessarily be better, no matter how tempting it may seem. (May also be called the Peanut Butter Rule.)
3. The Iceberg Rule: If you see a bit of something, chances are good there may be a lot more to it than you can tell. Akin to the phrase 'where there's smoke there's fire.'
4. The No-Fault Rule: Don't use other people's mistakes to excuse or justify your own.
5. The Control Rule: You're the only (adult) person you can control. Period. End of story. Any efforts or expectations otherwise will only lead to disappointment. The basic premise behind this rule is RESPECT. The corollary of this is don't expect or allow anyone else to control you. Respect yourself and others enough to take care of your own business and keep it at home, without interfering with others' lives and/or their (in)ability to do the same.
6. The Reciprocation Rule: Don't expect someone else to do a thing for you just because you'd do it for them. This does not override the Golden Rule (#1) because of the Control Rule (#5).
Thursday, April 22, 2010
What If
Something I dug up, written for fun and originally submitted to (and rejected by) McSweeney's, dated 28 March 2006:
Imagine how the great moments of history would be different if...
- the library at Alexandria hadn't burned
- the Seahawks had actually made an effort in the second half of Superbowl XL
- L. Ron Hubbard had lost the bet
- Cornwallis hadn't surrendered, but made a final charge and defeated Washington's forces
- zombies really were imaginary
- Adolf Hitler's career as a street artist had paid off
- Lucious Malfoy hadn't handed Dobby that book
- Julius Caesar hadn't crossed the Rubicon
- Firefly hadn't been cancelled
- Deagol hadn't found the One Ring at the bottom of the Anduin
Imagine how the great moments of history would be different if...
- the library at Alexandria hadn't burned
- the Seahawks had actually made an effort in the second half of Superbowl XL
- L. Ron Hubbard had lost the bet
- Cornwallis hadn't surrendered, but made a final charge and defeated Washington's forces
- zombies really were imaginary
- Adolf Hitler's career as a street artist had paid off
- Lucious Malfoy hadn't handed Dobby that book
- Julius Caesar hadn't crossed the Rubicon
- Firefly hadn't been cancelled
- Deagol hadn't found the One Ring at the bottom of the Anduin
Crush
(16 November 2009)
It is beginning: my tween son has declared a crush.
He did so nonchalantly, and, to his credit, to his mother. This is a great indicator of self-confidence, which is actually the best part of this whole business. I don't have to explain to anyone of the male persuasion how ominous a prospect it is to let your MOM know you like girls, let alone any adult, or any of your friends, or anyone outside the family- or friends circles...because this opens you up to judgment. And becoming vulnerable to anyone at age eleven simply is not a choice made without a great deal of self-reliance.
(unfinished)
It is beginning: my tween son has declared a crush.
He did so nonchalantly, and, to his credit, to his mother. This is a great indicator of self-confidence, which is actually the best part of this whole business. I don't have to explain to anyone of the male persuasion how ominous a prospect it is to let your MOM know you like girls, let alone any adult, or any of your friends, or anyone outside the family- or friends circles...because this opens you up to judgment. And becoming vulnerable to anyone at age eleven simply is not a choice made without a great deal of self-reliance.
(unfinished)
No Can Do
(19 February 2010)
As a depressed person, I know there is only so far I can go in life. I say this in the face of the "can-doers" who would tell me that, no matter what, I can do anything I set my mind to, those who would say, "If it is to be, it is up to me!"
Sigh. Of course, they're right. But that take-life-by-the horns mindset comes with a necessary set of personality traits and social skills, many of which are, by definition, not part of a depressive's emotional repertoire.
(unfinished)
As a depressed person, I know there is only so far I can go in life. I say this in the face of the "can-doers" who would tell me that, no matter what, I can do anything I set my mind to, those who would say, "If it is to be, it is up to me!"
Sigh. Of course, they're right. But that take-life-by-the horns mindset comes with a necessary set of personality traits and social skills, many of which are, by definition, not part of a depressive's emotional repertoire.
(unfinished)
Overplay
(15 May 2009)
I tend to overplay my hand.
I'm used to losing, you see, or at least being the underdog in any given situation. Of course, that's more related to my personality than any actual game being played, but that's really beside the point when perception is your reality. So when I am inadvertently dealt a decent card or two, I blow it.
It's not that I lack a poker face. I'm no pro, to be sure, but I know enough about body language and panic reactions to keep a cool head when I need to. My downfall is my confidence: I just don't know how to play my bets.
When I think I can win, I start strong. Compared to my normal demeanor, this creates suspicion. I rush the game, and by the time the river comes around my effort to draw a high pot has only resulted in everyone but the real players folding. Then underdog kicks in again: I doubt my abilities face with the prospect of 'true' talent, and either fold myself or brace for the inevitable double slap of luck and odds.
So it is in personal situations, too. I learned early that humility is a virtue, and though I had my days of experimenting with that notion (turns out Dad was right) I mostly keep my ideas and words to myself. Though not technically related, this personality trait is tied to my confidence.
The whole sour stew puts me at an automatic disadvantage when compared to others with more confidence, and less humility. Even when I have an answer or solution, the loudest person in the room is usually heard first, and when their idea inevitably fails, and my time has come around, I am criticized for holding my tongue too long. So it goes, but I've learned to live with it.
So when I find myself holding an ace, I'm set at unease. Unused to having any advantage, an awkward confidence sets in. The thing teeters like an amateur tightrope walker, and by the time I've figured out how to play my advantage, it's fallen and my opportunity to win is gone. I step before I know where I'm headed, and rush right into a hole.
But not this time.
I tend to overplay my hand.
I'm used to losing, you see, or at least being the underdog in any given situation. Of course, that's more related to my personality than any actual game being played, but that's really beside the point when perception is your reality. So when I am inadvertently dealt a decent card or two, I blow it.
It's not that I lack a poker face. I'm no pro, to be sure, but I know enough about body language and panic reactions to keep a cool head when I need to. My downfall is my confidence: I just don't know how to play my bets.
When I think I can win, I start strong. Compared to my normal demeanor, this creates suspicion. I rush the game, and by the time the river comes around my effort to draw a high pot has only resulted in everyone but the real players folding. Then underdog kicks in again: I doubt my abilities face with the prospect of 'true' talent, and either fold myself or brace for the inevitable double slap of luck and odds.
So it is in personal situations, too. I learned early that humility is a virtue, and though I had my days of experimenting with that notion (turns out Dad was right) I mostly keep my ideas and words to myself. Though not technically related, this personality trait is tied to my confidence.
The whole sour stew puts me at an automatic disadvantage when compared to others with more confidence, and less humility. Even when I have an answer or solution, the loudest person in the room is usually heard first, and when their idea inevitably fails, and my time has come around, I am criticized for holding my tongue too long. So it goes, but I've learned to live with it.
So when I find myself holding an ace, I'm set at unease. Unused to having any advantage, an awkward confidence sets in. The thing teeters like an amateur tightrope walker, and by the time I've figured out how to play my advantage, it's fallen and my opportunity to win is gone. I step before I know where I'm headed, and rush right into a hole.
But not this time.
Ignorance
Left in a Facebook discussion for the US Army fan group, 15 March 2010:
When those ignorant of what it means to be an American express their disdain for our country's government, people, or armed forces, it's an insult to anyone who's ever known or loved one of those True Heroes who ensure our freedom, and a vilification of those who have died for it. The right to exercise freedom of speech comes with the responsibility of knowing how to do so responsibly and respectably. If you're lucky enough to have this right, and fortunate enough to be completely unaware of what it takes to provide it, count yourself in a privileged minority, and consider just saying "thank you" to a veteran, or attending a Memorial Day service. America has never been perfect, but we've more than earned our place at the global table, and helped preseve that of many other nations. Repeated for posterity: If you can't stand behind our soldiers, feel free to stand in front of them.
When those ignorant of what it means to be an American express their disdain for our country's government, people, or armed forces, it's an insult to anyone who's ever known or loved one of those True Heroes who ensure our freedom, and a vilification of those who have died for it. The right to exercise freedom of speech comes with the responsibility of knowing how to do so responsibly and respectably. If you're lucky enough to have this right, and fortunate enough to be completely unaware of what it takes to provide it, count yourself in a privileged minority, and consider just saying "thank you" to a veteran, or attending a Memorial Day service. America has never been perfect, but we've more than earned our place at the global table, and helped preseve that of many other nations. Repeated for posterity: If you can't stand behind our soldiers, feel free to stand in front of them.
SMRT
(16 April 2007)
All in all, I like to consider my brain as very functional in all the traditional ways, and then some. I can critically read Dante is its historical context as well as appreciate the humor of the Knights of the Pactoganal table in Dragon Fable. I occasionally win chess games without the forethought of a Master, and understand the complexities of sequentially casting Divine Plea, Avenging Wrath, and Sacred Shield *before* engaging a high-level monster in melee combat. I equally appreciate my progressive metal Dream Theater epics, the Moonlight Sonata, and an hour of either Ira Glass or Garrison Keiler (even if I don't know how to spell his name). I see harmony in a combination lush gardens and natural overgrowth, the beauty of a 100-year old fountain nestled in the middle of nowhere. I can explain how benzoic acid fragments under electron ionization in LEGO terms without being condescending.
In the everyday game of life, I consider myself a low level Renaissance man. I have many strikes against me which I will not recount here, but most can be undone with (unfinished)
All in all, I like to consider my brain as very functional in all the traditional ways, and then some. I can critically read Dante is its historical context as well as appreciate the humor of the Knights of the Pactoganal table in Dragon Fable. I occasionally win chess games without the forethought of a Master, and understand the complexities of sequentially casting Divine Plea, Avenging Wrath, and Sacred Shield *before* engaging a high-level monster in melee combat. I equally appreciate my progressive metal Dream Theater epics, the Moonlight Sonata, and an hour of either Ira Glass or Garrison Keiler (even if I don't know how to spell his name). I see harmony in a combination lush gardens and natural overgrowth, the beauty of a 100-year old fountain nestled in the middle of nowhere. I can explain how benzoic acid fragments under electron ionization in LEGO terms without being condescending.
In the everyday game of life, I consider myself a low level Renaissance man. I have many strikes against me which I will not recount here, but most can be undone with (unfinished)
Struggle
(10 February 2010)
There are days when you tell yourself what kind of man you're going to be. Some of these days are major milestones in a man's life: high school graduation, first day of college or boot camp, college graduation...or the day you decide not to re-enroll, the discovery that you'll be a father for the first time, the day that child is born, the day you irreparably disappoint a mentor, the day a loved one dies. And many more.
For me, it's not uncommon to set very similar expectations on every such day, though as I get older they just become more mature versions of themselves. Sometimes, you decide to drop a bullet point or two, whether because they may no longer apply to the man you'd like to be, or maybe because you've come to believe such an expectation is no longer realistic. Those days, depending on the abandoned expectation and the reason, can be little life-changing tragedies.
In my experience, what matters most are not the conclusions you come to on those days, but the actions you take after the decisions are made. A man struggles his whole life to define himself, and any day he commits to becoming one kind of man or another is a pretty major event. Though some may be hasty or spontaneous, no decision is made lightly.
But more than drawing an idealized future version of yourself, it's an even bigger personal struggle to make that man a reality.
There are days when you tell yourself what kind of man you're going to be. Some of these days are major milestones in a man's life: high school graduation, first day of college or boot camp, college graduation...or the day you decide not to re-enroll, the discovery that you'll be a father for the first time, the day that child is born, the day you irreparably disappoint a mentor, the day a loved one dies. And many more.
For me, it's not uncommon to set very similar expectations on every such day, though as I get older they just become more mature versions of themselves. Sometimes, you decide to drop a bullet point or two, whether because they may no longer apply to the man you'd like to be, or maybe because you've come to believe such an expectation is no longer realistic. Those days, depending on the abandoned expectation and the reason, can be little life-changing tragedies.
In my experience, what matters most are not the conclusions you come to on those days, but the actions you take after the decisions are made. A man struggles his whole life to define himself, and any day he commits to becoming one kind of man or another is a pretty major event. Though some may be hasty or spontaneous, no decision is made lightly.
But more than drawing an idealized future version of yourself, it's an even bigger personal struggle to make that man a reality.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Excerpt
Excerpt from 26 April 2006 piece:
I think it's fate that we all find ourselves alone at this time of our lives. It's a lesson that tries to teach that we, ourselves, are really the only people we have on this earth, in this life, and that to rely on another human for anything is a gamble at best. Then we're confused by what a healthy partnership really is. One thing it is NOT, I know, is to meet the others every need. Some needs, probably most, can only be met from within. It's a tragic thing that with all the people on this earth, and all the reaching out, and after thousands of years of timeless philosophy and poetry and religion, that it comes to this: we are still ultimately alone, too confused about our own nature, too afraid to ask for help. And if we're lucky, it takes one whole lifetime to understand and find the key to our happiness. Most people reach the end without even knowing there's a difference. I am luckier than them, but maybe not as lucky as the ones who find the answer. I can only hope.
I think it's fate that we all find ourselves alone at this time of our lives. It's a lesson that tries to teach that we, ourselves, are really the only people we have on this earth, in this life, and that to rely on another human for anything is a gamble at best. Then we're confused by what a healthy partnership really is. One thing it is NOT, I know, is to meet the others every need. Some needs, probably most, can only be met from within. It's a tragic thing that with all the people on this earth, and all the reaching out, and after thousands of years of timeless philosophy and poetry and religion, that it comes to this: we are still ultimately alone, too confused about our own nature, too afraid to ask for help. And if we're lucky, it takes one whole lifetime to understand and find the key to our happiness. Most people reach the end without even knowing there's a difference. I am luckier than them, but maybe not as lucky as the ones who find the answer. I can only hope.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The Diminishing Returns of Self-Discovery
Personal enlightenment is a fabulous thing, at least in theory. It's something I think all intelligent people strive for at some time in their lives, to one extent or another, and through a combination of that effort and various occurrences beyond their control, I think most people achieve some degree of it, or at least enough that they reach a kind of equilibrium between the things they wish for and the things they have.
In my own journey, I have a long list of both intentional efforts and accidental consequences (cataclysmic and otherwise) that brought me to my own state of self-awareness. It hasn't always been pretty, but I think I can safely say that it has been effective. I know myself pretty well; I think better than the average person of my age and background. I can't always tell the difference, but I know people around me notice from time to time, and that's a more accurate measure of growth anyhow.
However, not all progress is permanent. I have the unfortunate flaw that I am human, and so frequently relapse into previously unenlightened States of Self. I am prone to the effects of brain and body chemicals, as well as core input, that alter my states of well-being. Many a potentially life-changing resolve made during the morning shower or commute is lost to fatigue or minutia by the end of a day. This is why I haven't yet painted the hall, finished my degree, made a stock portfolio to speak of, built a 50" chest with 17" biceps, bicycled across the state, or written my many novels.
Of course, this is one major reason I maintain this blog: to stick pins into those ideas and experiences I think are worth saving in the hopes that they won't fall off the map, and maybe (just maybe) they'll help me figure out what I'm doing on this rock. In a discussion with a friend about her own very similar journey, it occurred to me that despite my best efforts, I may never quite reach my Optimum Self, if only because my brain/core capacity isn't high enough to hold onto everything I learn along the way. I suspect that once I reach a certain level of self-discovery, diminishing returns start to kick in.
As an analytical person, I naturally think of this in context of the phenomenon's origin: mathematics. Diminishing returns is the idea that a thing's effectiveness will decrease after a certain amount of it has been gathered.
See Figure 1. Point α along the x-axis theoretically represents the optimum point of self-awareness, after which the relationship between the self-awareness and the benefits thereof is no longer linear (assuming it begins that way at all), and learning more about oneself has less and less positive effect.
Figure 2 shows the many possible shapes of the graph after point α.
Well, now that I've beaten this horse to death with imaginary mathematics that probably don't apply anyway, suffice it to say that I'm still learning not only what's happening inside, but why I even make the effort. It's a noble one, to be sure, but I still have a lot to learn about how to apply the lessons I gain along the way. Wish me luck.
Another disclaimer: It may have become glaringly obvious during the reading, but I don't have an education in philosophy, psychology, theology, medicine, counseling, or energy healing. I write what my gut tells me. While I welcome your input, any disrespectful attempt to call me out on a point of my own ignorance may result in undesired consequences. You have been warned.
In my own journey, I have a long list of both intentional efforts and accidental consequences (cataclysmic and otherwise) that brought me to my own state of self-awareness. It hasn't always been pretty, but I think I can safely say that it has been effective. I know myself pretty well; I think better than the average person of my age and background. I can't always tell the difference, but I know people around me notice from time to time, and that's a more accurate measure of growth anyhow.
However, not all progress is permanent. I have the unfortunate flaw that I am human, and so frequently relapse into previously unenlightened States of Self. I am prone to the effects of brain and body chemicals, as well as core input, that alter my states of well-being. Many a potentially life-changing resolve made during the morning shower or commute is lost to fatigue or minutia by the end of a day. This is why I haven't yet painted the hall, finished my degree, made a stock portfolio to speak of, built a 50" chest with 17" biceps, bicycled across the state, or written my many novels.
Of course, this is one major reason I maintain this blog: to stick pins into those ideas and experiences I think are worth saving in the hopes that they won't fall off the map, and maybe (just maybe) they'll help me figure out what I'm doing on this rock. In a discussion with a friend about her own very similar journey, it occurred to me that despite my best efforts, I may never quite reach my Optimum Self, if only because my brain/core capacity isn't high enough to hold onto everything I learn along the way. I suspect that once I reach a certain level of self-discovery, diminishing returns start to kick in.
As an analytical person, I naturally think of this in context of the phenomenon's origin: mathematics. Diminishing returns is the idea that a thing's effectiveness will decrease after a certain amount of it has been gathered.
See Figure 1. Point α along the x-axis theoretically represents the optimum point of self-awareness, after which the relationship between the self-awareness and the benefits thereof is no longer linear (assuming it begins that way at all), and learning more about oneself has less and less positive effect.
Figure 2 shows the many possible shapes of the graph after point α.
- "A" shows true diminishing returns, where the y-axis continues to increase, but at a decreasing rate. It continually takes more and more self-awareness to have the same effect as a lesser amount previously.
- "B" is what I imagine happens in an environment without diminishing returns, such as a monastery. Obviously, these are ideal conditions, and not a realistic scenario with a modern Western lifestyle.
- "C" is what I typically do: get to a certain point of understanding, then become distracted, or disenchanted. Whatever the cause, I fall off the wagon.
- "D" is what I'm going for: even if my quality of life isn't continually improved, I want to keep learning who and what I am. I think if this path is followed, the graph will eventually turn north again and I will reach another period of growth.
Well, now that I've beaten this horse to death with imaginary mathematics that probably don't apply anyway, suffice it to say that I'm still learning not only what's happening inside, but why I even make the effort. It's a noble one, to be sure, but I still have a lot to learn about how to apply the lessons I gain along the way. Wish me luck.
Another disclaimer: It may have become glaringly obvious during the reading, but I don't have an education in philosophy, psychology, theology, medicine, counseling, or energy healing. I write what my gut tells me. While I welcome your input, any disrespectful attempt to call me out on a point of my own ignorance may result in undesired consequences. You have been warned.
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