I am realizing this week that I probably talk about 50% more than I need to.
It all started about two weeks ago, when The Viking and I were headed over to throw in a neighboring town. He is a good road trip partner: easy to talk to, wide ranging conversation, and actual listening occurring. At one point he said "You know, for the fact that we have been friends for at least 4 years, I know almost nothing about your wife or your kids."
That is odd, I thought. I did not think of myself as avoiding talking about them. I filed it away.
This week, I have had the opposite problem at work. It feels like I am talking too much at work. I am not sure why - yes, you have to speak to others to exchange some level of information. What I found, as I considered it, was that I tended to go beyond that. There is a certain amount of conversation I have to do (in my own eyes, anyway) to keep the lines of communication open. The problem, it seemed to me, was that sometimes I tend to make conversation because I do not really want to hurry back to my desk to get on the ever growing pile of items that need my attention.
And then last night came the final consideration: that moment where you think you said something clever, everyone acted as if you said something clever, but you end up with this slightly unsettled feeling in your stomach - "Was that really as funny as I think" you wonder, "or was I just on the edge of being annoying or not funny?"
Which, on the whole, makes me think that I am just talking a lot more than I need to be.
Partially, it probably needs to be properly segregated. Talk about work, at work. Talk about not-work, at not-work. Do not mix the two.
And on the whole, say less than you have to. Some of that (my wife and children) is probably instinctive from years of keeping my life separate at some level. But I need to work on separating them out more.
There are places and times and relationships for conversation. The problem seems to be that I confuse what and when those are. And certainly, I seem to be pushing the line on where it is all about me and where it becomes unfortunate.
From the Spartans we have inherited the word laconic, which suggests a short, pithy statement rather than a long conversation. For myself anyway, it might not be a bad things to keep in mind.
Thursday, November 30, 2017
Wednesday, November 29, 2017
A Breakthrough Year?
In talking with A Chailin Ruadh yesterday, we were both lamenting the fact that our lives seem to be in some kind of stasis or time warp, really moving nowhere even where others seem to be. "You know what I wish for?" I wrote to her. "I would love a break through year." She agreed that such a thing would indeed be wonderful.
Which got me to thinking: what would constitute a "breakthrough" year?
"Breakthrough: An act or instance of moving through or beyond an obstacle; a sudden advance in knowledge or technique" (Thanks, Merriam-Webster.)
So, moving through or beyond a barrier, huh? Some sudden advance in knowledge or technique?
When I think of a breakout, I think of something that is just significantly above and beyond anything that has happened for a while. Like an actual change in living versus always thinking about it. Like overcoming some great obstacle in my life that I have been fighting in my life for years. Like moving forward with one or more of my goals in a way that is demonstrable and noticeable?
Man, when was the last time something like that happened?
I suppose it is just that it does not feel like that kind of thing has happened - in a long time. The end of the year is a great deal like the beginning of the year; the changing of the guard on December 31st comes to seem the same year after year.
But what would be like to get to the end of the year and realize that things are different - in a very good way - than when you were started? What, really, would it be like? And why is it I have trouble picturing that such a thing would be?
Which got me to thinking: what would constitute a "breakthrough" year?
"Breakthrough: An act or instance of moving through or beyond an obstacle; a sudden advance in knowledge or technique" (Thanks, Merriam-Webster.)
So, moving through or beyond a barrier, huh? Some sudden advance in knowledge or technique?
When I think of a breakout, I think of something that is just significantly above and beyond anything that has happened for a while. Like an actual change in living versus always thinking about it. Like overcoming some great obstacle in my life that I have been fighting in my life for years. Like moving forward with one or more of my goals in a way that is demonstrable and noticeable?
Man, when was the last time something like that happened?
I suppose it is just that it does not feel like that kind of thing has happened - in a long time. The end of the year is a great deal like the beginning of the year; the changing of the guard on December 31st comes to seem the same year after year.
But what would be like to get to the end of the year and realize that things are different - in a very good way - than when you were started? What, really, would it be like? And why is it I have trouble picturing that such a thing would be?
Monday, November 27, 2017
One Of Those Days
Yesterday was one of those work days where you just crawl home hoping nothing else can go wrong.
Oh, I had the greatest of intentions when I showed up, of course. I was coming off of four days of no work. What was there that could possibly go wrong?
Well, the wireless, for one. And then the whole stinking network. And the five things I had to get to instead of the five things that I wanted to get to done. By the time I left, the greatest victories of the day I could point to was changing a battery to fix a mouse and getting the document I had started working on at 0830 done by the time I left in the evening.
It was not, on the whole, a very encouraging day. It is the sort of day, in fact, that makes me seriously question what I am doing and why.
There are some days that I feel like I am actually making a difference - in some cases, a life changing one. But more often than not - and more often than not lately - it feels a great deal more like I am just scrambling to accomplish a series of tasks only to find another series of tasks behind them to be accomplish - perhaps, it might be argued, an unending series of small tasks leading to something that I cannot fully visualize.
I am finding this somewhat problematic.
I am hopeful (but not overly so) that tomorrow will be different. But even at its best, I am still looking 6 months out and seeing more and more things stretching out over a timeline I cannot seem to see the end of.
Building things is nice. But sometimes you need to see something you built.
Oh, I had the greatest of intentions when I showed up, of course. I was coming off of four days of no work. What was there that could possibly go wrong?
Well, the wireless, for one. And then the whole stinking network. And the five things I had to get to instead of the five things that I wanted to get to done. By the time I left, the greatest victories of the day I could point to was changing a battery to fix a mouse and getting the document I had started working on at 0830 done by the time I left in the evening.
It was not, on the whole, a very encouraging day. It is the sort of day, in fact, that makes me seriously question what I am doing and why.
There are some days that I feel like I am actually making a difference - in some cases, a life changing one. But more often than not - and more often than not lately - it feels a great deal more like I am just scrambling to accomplish a series of tasks only to find another series of tasks behind them to be accomplish - perhaps, it might be argued, an unending series of small tasks leading to something that I cannot fully visualize.
I am finding this somewhat problematic.
I am hopeful (but not overly so) that tomorrow will be different. But even at its best, I am still looking 6 months out and seeing more and more things stretching out over a timeline I cannot seem to see the end of.
Building things is nice. But sometimes you need to see something you built.
A Few Words From....Tecumseh
"Live
your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart.
Trouble no one about his religion.
Respect others in their views and demand that they respect yours.
Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life.
Seek to make your life long and of service to your people.
Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide.
Always give a word or sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend,
or even a stranger, if in a lonely place.
Show respect to all people, but grovel to none.
When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light,
for your life, for your strength.
Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living.
If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself.
Abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools
and robs the spirit of its vision.
When your time comes to die,
be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death,
so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time
to live their lives over again in a different way.
Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home."
Trouble no one about his religion.
Respect others in their views and demand that they respect yours.
Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life.
Seek to make your life long and of service to your people.
Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide.
Always give a word or sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend,
or even a stranger, if in a lonely place.
Show respect to all people, but grovel to none.
When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light,
for your life, for your strength.
Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living.
If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself.
Abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools
and robs the spirit of its vision.
When your time comes to die,
be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death,
so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time
to live their lives over again in a different way.
Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home."
-Tecumseh (1768-1813), Shawnee Chief
Friday, November 24, 2017
Sunk Relationship Costs
Two days ago I wrote of the fact of how difficult I found it to let relationships go. Today I suddenly understood the reason why.
The concept is one of business, that of sunk costs, costs that are invested into a project which, whether or not the project succeeds, are non-recoverable. As Greg McKeown says in his book Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less:
"Sunk cost bias is the tendency to invest time, money, or energy into something we know is a losing proposition simply because we have already incurred, or sunk, a cost that cannot be recouped. But of course this can easily become a vicious cycle: the more we invest, the more determined we become to see it through and see our investment pay off. The more we invest in something, the harder it is to let go." (Emphasis mine.)
Having read that last sentence, suddenly everything became crystal clear to me. I cannot let go of some people because at some point I had invested so much in the relationship.
Once upon a time, back in the "old days" - say pre-2000 - one simply lost track of people due to moves or time and that was that. Distance was distance and more often than not, a relocation in time or career meant that one simply accepted the high likelihood of the loss and moved on. But with the advent of mobile phones and cheap calling plans and social media, this all changed: suddenly the possibility of keeping up with people in real time became a reality. The investment, it seemed, would not be lost.
But just because something can be does not mean that it will be.
Again, back to the original point of comment: people move on because, ultimately, we no longer fill a purpose or met a need in their lives (I discount those that leave because of intentionally caused harm, which is both wise and understandable, or unintentionally caused harm, which is wise and understandable from their point of view as well although sometimes confusing). Seldom do they immediately just "disappear": it happens instead over period which, if we were honest enough with ourselves and not so concerned with trying to recoup the value of our "investment", we would realize what was happening. We - or at least I - tend to react by becoming more clingly, more insistent - until the day that calls are no longer answered and the messages disappeared.
Let me be clear: this is a me thing. This has nothing to do with anyone else or their actions. This purely and totally falls on my shoulders.
But falling on my shoulders means I also have the means of resolving the problem.
When I view an investment, I view it from the point of if it is giving me the return I expected. If it is not, I sell it, accept the loss in revenue and time, and move on. The same factor should hold true here as well.
Relationships are indeed an investment of time and energy. But like any investment, they run their course as well. And only the fool who pretends or does not know better does not realize when it time to simply cut their losses and move on.
The concept is one of business, that of sunk costs, costs that are invested into a project which, whether or not the project succeeds, are non-recoverable. As Greg McKeown says in his book Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less:
"Sunk cost bias is the tendency to invest time, money, or energy into something we know is a losing proposition simply because we have already incurred, or sunk, a cost that cannot be recouped. But of course this can easily become a vicious cycle: the more we invest, the more determined we become to see it through and see our investment pay off. The more we invest in something, the harder it is to let go." (Emphasis mine.)
Having read that last sentence, suddenly everything became crystal clear to me. I cannot let go of some people because at some point I had invested so much in the relationship.
Once upon a time, back in the "old days" - say pre-2000 - one simply lost track of people due to moves or time and that was that. Distance was distance and more often than not, a relocation in time or career meant that one simply accepted the high likelihood of the loss and moved on. But with the advent of mobile phones and cheap calling plans and social media, this all changed: suddenly the possibility of keeping up with people in real time became a reality. The investment, it seemed, would not be lost.
But just because something can be does not mean that it will be.
Again, back to the original point of comment: people move on because, ultimately, we no longer fill a purpose or met a need in their lives (I discount those that leave because of intentionally caused harm, which is both wise and understandable, or unintentionally caused harm, which is wise and understandable from their point of view as well although sometimes confusing). Seldom do they immediately just "disappear": it happens instead over period which, if we were honest enough with ourselves and not so concerned with trying to recoup the value of our "investment", we would realize what was happening. We - or at least I - tend to react by becoming more clingly, more insistent - until the day that calls are no longer answered and the messages disappeared.
Let me be clear: this is a me thing. This has nothing to do with anyone else or their actions. This purely and totally falls on my shoulders.
But falling on my shoulders means I also have the means of resolving the problem.
When I view an investment, I view it from the point of if it is giving me the return I expected. If it is not, I sell it, accept the loss in revenue and time, and move on. The same factor should hold true here as well.
Relationships are indeed an investment of time and energy. But like any investment, they run their course as well. And only the fool who pretends or does not know better does not realize when it time to simply cut their losses and move on.
Thursday, November 23, 2017
Thanksgiving Proclamation, 1789
I do it every year. Because we need to remember:
George Washington's 1789
Thanksgiving Proclamation
Whereas it is the duty of all nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey His will, to be grateful for His benefits, and humbly to implore His protection and favor; and Whereas both Houses of Congress have, by their joint committee, requested me to "recommend to the people of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer, to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many and signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness:"
Now, therefore, I do recommend and assign Thursday, the 26th day of November next, to be devoted by the people of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being who is the beneficent author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be; that we may then all unite in rendering unto Him our sincere and humble thanks for His kind care and protection of the people of this country previous to their becoming a nation; for the signal and manifold mercies and the favorable interpositions of His providence in the course and conclusion of the late war; for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty which we have since enjoyed; for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enable to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national one now lately instituted for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed, and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and, in general, for all the great and various favors which He has been pleased to confer upon us.
And also that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations and beseech Him to pardon our national and other transgressions; to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually; to render our National Government a blessing to all the people by constantly being a Government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed; to protect and guide all sovereigns and nations (especially such as have shown kindness to us), and to bless them with good governments, peace, and concord; to promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the increase of science among them and us; and, generally to grant unto all mankind such a degree of temporal prosperity as He alone knows to be best.
Given under my hand, at the city of New York, the 3d day of October, A.D. 1789.
- http://www.wilstar.com/holidays/wash_thanks.html
- http://www.wilstar.com/holidays/wash_thanks.html
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
Letting People Go
I have never been able to readily let people go.
I am not really sure where this comes from. I wonder if it comes from a deep seated feeling that people leaving means that I am not good enough or worthy of enough to be maintained. Or it could simply be from a sense of pride, that horrible monster that says "You do not leave me. I leave you."
But if I objectively look at the outcome of the last 35 years, I come away with the sense that far more people have left than have stayed. And the longer I live, the more attenuated the gaps seem to become, until what would seemed to have been a steady course of land stretching behind me has a series of small islands, more and more which seem to be receding into the Sea of Memory.
People get busy, of course. And in a society where there is a plethora of things to occupy one's time, keeping up with old acquaintances that one has not seen in years and with whom one shares perhaps nothing in common now- or worse, only bad and unfortunate memories- probably falls to bottom of the list. As, quite likely, it should.
I get wistful, of course. It is part of the romantic in me, I suppose - wondering what happened to people, where they are now, what they are doing - not that this information is at all inaccessible these days of course: give me five minutes and two social media sites and I can general find out.
But that is not really the point. I can find the information; I can no longer find the people.
That is the most distressing part. It is one thing to have events wander away from us; it is another thing entirely to figure out that there is quite likely a reason that people are no longer in contact with you.
The fault, I suspect, is largely my own. Contrary to my beliefs about myself, I have created any number of bad memories for others, no doubt. I have failed others. I have been unkind with words and deeds. I have not always treated others as I ought.
And so now, every time I find such an urge rising up in me - the urge to follow a link, to search a name, to linger over a recent picture and memories - I beat it back down inside and carefully lock it away. People have chosen. And it is far more important that I respect their choice than fulfill any sort of foolish nostalgia I have lingering my mind.
I am not really sure where this comes from. I wonder if it comes from a deep seated feeling that people leaving means that I am not good enough or worthy of enough to be maintained. Or it could simply be from a sense of pride, that horrible monster that says "You do not leave me. I leave you."
But if I objectively look at the outcome of the last 35 years, I come away with the sense that far more people have left than have stayed. And the longer I live, the more attenuated the gaps seem to become, until what would seemed to have been a steady course of land stretching behind me has a series of small islands, more and more which seem to be receding into the Sea of Memory.
People get busy, of course. And in a society where there is a plethora of things to occupy one's time, keeping up with old acquaintances that one has not seen in years and with whom one shares perhaps nothing in common now- or worse, only bad and unfortunate memories- probably falls to bottom of the list. As, quite likely, it should.
I get wistful, of course. It is part of the romantic in me, I suppose - wondering what happened to people, where they are now, what they are doing - not that this information is at all inaccessible these days of course: give me five minutes and two social media sites and I can general find out.
But that is not really the point. I can find the information; I can no longer find the people.
That is the most distressing part. It is one thing to have events wander away from us; it is another thing entirely to figure out that there is quite likely a reason that people are no longer in contact with you.
The fault, I suspect, is largely my own. Contrary to my beliefs about myself, I have created any number of bad memories for others, no doubt. I have failed others. I have been unkind with words and deeds. I have not always treated others as I ought.
And so now, every time I find such an urge rising up in me - the urge to follow a link, to search a name, to linger over a recent picture and memories - I beat it back down inside and carefully lock it away. People have chosen. And it is far more important that I respect their choice than fulfill any sort of foolish nostalgia I have lingering my mind.
Tuesday, November 21, 2017
The Turn You See Coming
Sometimes you find that you have turned corners and scarcely realize that such a thing has happened.
You suspect it is coming, of course: like an average city block you grasp that at some point the intersection will arrive. You may even have a sense of how far it is until the turn arrives - and then, just like that, it is there.
You probably have made the turn out of instinct before you even thought about it; looking in the rear view mirror you see the traffic that was trailing you headed on down towards what you had believed was your destination. It was not, apparently: the turn arrived and for some reason you took it while others did not.
You probably think about it some as you continue on your new course: Did you see it coming? Did you suspect? Why did you turn? And perhaps most importantly, where is it that you are headed now?
There is probably a pang or two of regret as you continue to motor away. The destination you thought you were heading to is no longer yours, and the people you thought were going to be there when arrived may not - nay, probably will not be there. And you have no way of knowing what, or who, you will fine.
But all this is conjecture, of course: the turn came and you made it and others did not. All you can do now is to continue to drive into the sunset.
You suspect it is coming, of course: like an average city block you grasp that at some point the intersection will arrive. You may even have a sense of how far it is until the turn arrives - and then, just like that, it is there.
You probably have made the turn out of instinct before you even thought about it; looking in the rear view mirror you see the traffic that was trailing you headed on down towards what you had believed was your destination. It was not, apparently: the turn arrived and for some reason you took it while others did not.
You probably think about it some as you continue on your new course: Did you see it coming? Did you suspect? Why did you turn? And perhaps most importantly, where is it that you are headed now?
There is probably a pang or two of regret as you continue to motor away. The destination you thought you were heading to is no longer yours, and the people you thought were going to be there when arrived may not - nay, probably will not be there. And you have no way of knowing what, or who, you will fine.
But all this is conjecture, of course: the turn came and you made it and others did not. All you can do now is to continue to drive into the sunset.
Monday, November 20, 2017
Kindness, Where Art Thou?
Yesterday morning, in a correspondence with A Chailin Ruadh, she mentioned that that her manager had given her a bouquet of flowers for coming in to work on Saturday. "How kind" I commented. "Yes, it is unexpected" she replied.
Which got me to thinking: Kindness has become a very scarce and unusual thing.
What is kindness? That is a hard thing to connotatively define. Merriam Webster would tell you it is the quality or state of being kind, which itself is define as "having or showing a gentle nature and a desire to help others; wanting and liking to do good things and bring happiness to others." But that is only a general definition. Kindness, it seems to me, something more seen out of the corner of our eyes rather than clearly. It manifests itself in different ways:
- Choosing to creatively discuss a failure and come up with solutions rather than come down hard on the failure.
- Choosing to not draw attention to an issue at in inopportune time when it would detract from the main attraction.
- Helping when it is neither your responsibility nor your job.
- Speaking a kind word when it is not required.
Kindness is not costless, of course. It costs something to creatively resolve an issue instead of attacking someone or not speaking when to speak would be justifiable or to expend one's time on something that is not in one's area of responsibility. It costs us our right to ourselves, to perhaps be righteously indignant or angry or to answer questions after the fact about why we chose not comment when things were "blatantly obvious".
Why has it become so rare? The definition of kind perhaps gives us an answer: something about one's self and something about one's focus.
For the self, "having a gentle nature, wanting and liking to do good". This suggests that we have a nature such as this - and a gentle nature is something I would argue is neither valued by this society, this social system, or the values currently transcendent. Perhaps "wanting and liking to do good" is more universal, but too often it is only defined as good that benefits me somehow, not necessarily someone else.
For one's focus, both definitions focus on others, on helping them and wanting to bring happiness to them. This, again, would seem to be the sort of the thing that in principle is a thing valuable today, but in practice not so much.
Why? I wonder if it is not due to the fact that we as a civilization and a society have become concerned (extraordinarily so) with the self, specifically the things that benefit me. I am not discussing the legitimate concern and responsibility I have to provide for those I am responsible for. What I am talking about is the very real fact that for many, the universe really does revolve around them. And in the universe of One (Me), neither gentleness nor others figure as valuable commodities. They are more additions that can be thrown away as needed in the pursuit of the universal good (which in my universe, is the self).
It may seem that kindness is a bit of a luxury, the sort of thing that people can offer when they have taken care of all that is critical to survival, and perhaps one could argue that this is true. My counterargument would be that in fact kindness is as critical as any food, shelter, or clothing we need for survival. Without it, personal relations and society itself become a clashing battlefield of self against self, of my wants against your wants, of seeking the aggrandizement of self over all others.
If you would comment that this sounds a great deal like a vast civil and societal war, I would agree with you that it does. The question is more "How does one stop it?"
Like more wars, of course. Except in this battle, kindness becomes both the weapon and the goal to be sought.
Which got me to thinking: Kindness has become a very scarce and unusual thing.
What is kindness? That is a hard thing to connotatively define. Merriam Webster would tell you it is the quality or state of being kind, which itself is define as "having or showing a gentle nature and a desire to help others; wanting and liking to do good things and bring happiness to others." But that is only a general definition. Kindness, it seems to me, something more seen out of the corner of our eyes rather than clearly. It manifests itself in different ways:
- Choosing to creatively discuss a failure and come up with solutions rather than come down hard on the failure.
- Choosing to not draw attention to an issue at in inopportune time when it would detract from the main attraction.
- Helping when it is neither your responsibility nor your job.
- Speaking a kind word when it is not required.
Kindness is not costless, of course. It costs something to creatively resolve an issue instead of attacking someone or not speaking when to speak would be justifiable or to expend one's time on something that is not in one's area of responsibility. It costs us our right to ourselves, to perhaps be righteously indignant or angry or to answer questions after the fact about why we chose not comment when things were "blatantly obvious".
Why has it become so rare? The definition of kind perhaps gives us an answer: something about one's self and something about one's focus.
For the self, "having a gentle nature, wanting and liking to do good". This suggests that we have a nature such as this - and a gentle nature is something I would argue is neither valued by this society, this social system, or the values currently transcendent. Perhaps "wanting and liking to do good" is more universal, but too often it is only defined as good that benefits me somehow, not necessarily someone else.
For one's focus, both definitions focus on others, on helping them and wanting to bring happiness to them. This, again, would seem to be the sort of the thing that in principle is a thing valuable today, but in practice not so much.
Why? I wonder if it is not due to the fact that we as a civilization and a society have become concerned (extraordinarily so) with the self, specifically the things that benefit me. I am not discussing the legitimate concern and responsibility I have to provide for those I am responsible for. What I am talking about is the very real fact that for many, the universe really does revolve around them. And in the universe of One (Me), neither gentleness nor others figure as valuable commodities. They are more additions that can be thrown away as needed in the pursuit of the universal good (which in my universe, is the self).
It may seem that kindness is a bit of a luxury, the sort of thing that people can offer when they have taken care of all that is critical to survival, and perhaps one could argue that this is true. My counterargument would be that in fact kindness is as critical as any food, shelter, or clothing we need for survival. Without it, personal relations and society itself become a clashing battlefield of self against self, of my wants against your wants, of seeking the aggrandizement of self over all others.
If you would comment that this sounds a great deal like a vast civil and societal war, I would agree with you that it does. The question is more "How does one stop it?"
Like more wars, of course. Except in this battle, kindness becomes both the weapon and the goal to be sought.
Friday, November 17, 2017
Outer and Inner Collapse
I have been wrangling back and forth with myself what to write about.
Part of me really - REALLY - wants to write about current events that suggest that the country, as whole, is pretty much politics. But that is politics, which we do not do here. Another part of me wants to write about what appears to be the complete and total moral collapse that seems to have engulfed Western civilization to the point that I do not think that it can be come back from - but again, that seems to border on politics.
And then I realized that really, all of the outside angst I am feeling is really more indicative of my inside angst.
I am feeling cast adrift, caught between the reality that I live in and the reality that I would like to live in - only to discover that the greater reality seems to be completely unraveling. What good is it if you are good at a job in an industry that failing, or even a society that is failing? What good is getting halfway to the life you want to live only to have everything around you dissolve? It is as if you were trying to drive halfway across the country only to run out of gas in the middle of New Mexico with no town or car around: you are stuck.
Societies, just like economies, are built on an array of almost invisible relationships that ultimately reside in trust and faith in others and circumstances. Without this faith and trust that a certain cause and effect exists in social affairs, people have no reason to continue to invest in them. If crime is ultimately not punished, why should one approach the authorities or report the crime - or on a broader level, why pay for the taxes that support the government that is not doing their job anyway? It is as if I can see the the strands unraveling before my eyes even as I am powerless to stop it - and am running out of time to do what needs doing before something serious collapses.
It is a bit selfish, I confess, to be more worried about me and mine rather than the greater masses out there. But I am exactly as all I see: my own trust and faith in this society and civilization has been unraveled, almost to the point where collapse is viewed not so much with terror or anger but rather as something which simply needs to happen so we can all move on to the next phase.
And so I have come to view current events not so much as omens of worse to come but rather as evidence that things are simply crumbling - perhaps a little more quickly than anticipated, but collapsing none the less. We are not surprised that the waves destroy the sand castle, only that it does not destroy the castle sooner.
Thursday, November 16, 2017
My Dwindling Consumption of Entertainment
My consumption of current entertainment has dwindled to almost nothing.
This has been a gradual process, of course. The last television series I kept up with was almost 20 years ago - and with The Severing Of The Cable ten years ago, such things are now non-extant. My theater/film attendance, which peaked somewhere around the time of The Lord of The Rings, has also steadily dwindled away to where if I attend more than one movie a year in a theater, it is a remarkable thing, My attendance of the theater, never something of note, is now essentially limited to plays and musicals I know a child in.
Part of this, to be sure, is financially and technology based. NetFlix and You Tube have made it easy to find almost anything I want to watch for almost nothing - and if I am really pining for a film, I can go to my local large Quarter Price Books and spend less than the cost of a ticket: $5 to $10 to own it. When the cost of a theater ticket is $7 for an afternoon showing and $12 for an evening showing (and even more for one of the fancy Dinner and A Movie places), this begins to make a difference (to be fair, we have a "Dollar" theater near us, although they never seem to be in quite as good repair).
Part, I know, is the fact that these sorts of things are a time sink - and for an unknown product, a great risk. The average film or play is 1.5 to 2.5 hours, television shows 25 to 55 minutes: is it worth it to risk my precious time on something that I am not sure that I will like with time I cannot get back? And part, of course, is that the entertainment industry long ago seems to have departed from my values and mores.
But the biggest contributing factor seems to be, remarkably enough, that the entertainment is no longer entertaining.
Oh, they can be exciting or gripping or occasionally moving. But even within this there is little sense that I am entertained, that I am being taken away from my existence into another reality and come out on the other side as a better or more thoughtful person. More often than not, it has come to be something that fills the time (and kills it) and something that is anything that just entertaining. And why would I pay someone for that?
I am sure all manner of entertainment shall continue to be produced (after all, it does make money for someone), just as I am sure that my consumption of it will continue to decline. After all, is not part of self sufficiency not that ability to entertain one's self?
This has been a gradual process, of course. The last television series I kept up with was almost 20 years ago - and with The Severing Of The Cable ten years ago, such things are now non-extant. My theater/film attendance, which peaked somewhere around the time of The Lord of The Rings, has also steadily dwindled away to where if I attend more than one movie a year in a theater, it is a remarkable thing, My attendance of the theater, never something of note, is now essentially limited to plays and musicals I know a child in.
Part of this, to be sure, is financially and technology based. NetFlix and You Tube have made it easy to find almost anything I want to watch for almost nothing - and if I am really pining for a film, I can go to my local large Quarter Price Books and spend less than the cost of a ticket: $5 to $10 to own it. When the cost of a theater ticket is $7 for an afternoon showing and $12 for an evening showing (and even more for one of the fancy Dinner and A Movie places), this begins to make a difference (to be fair, we have a "Dollar" theater near us, although they never seem to be in quite as good repair).
Part, I know, is the fact that these sorts of things are a time sink - and for an unknown product, a great risk. The average film or play is 1.5 to 2.5 hours, television shows 25 to 55 minutes: is it worth it to risk my precious time on something that I am not sure that I will like with time I cannot get back? And part, of course, is that the entertainment industry long ago seems to have departed from my values and mores.
But the biggest contributing factor seems to be, remarkably enough, that the entertainment is no longer entertaining.
Oh, they can be exciting or gripping or occasionally moving. But even within this there is little sense that I am entertained, that I am being taken away from my existence into another reality and come out on the other side as a better or more thoughtful person. More often than not, it has come to be something that fills the time (and kills it) and something that is anything that just entertaining. And why would I pay someone for that?
I am sure all manner of entertainment shall continue to be produced (after all, it does make money for someone), just as I am sure that my consumption of it will continue to decline. After all, is not part of self sufficiency not that ability to entertain one's self?
Wednesday, November 15, 2017
The Great Dropping Out
One day - I do not wonder any more if it is in the all that far future - thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of people (in my wildest dreams, millions) are going to simply drop out of the world at large.
It is happening, I know, in small numbers now. But in my soul, my bones, I feel like this is going to start to becomes more and more of a movement.
In is, perhaps, in a sense the quintessential "Going Galt": people realizing that the world simply has nothing to offer them except grief, destruction, and treatment as the financial mule that moves society.
Most people will not notice it in any meaningful way, of course. Folks will suddenly just seem to be not "around" any more - not in society, not (mostly) on-line, not in the stores, not in the entertainment venues, not really anywhere except the places they choose to be, which likely will be away from the public eye (and consumer spending).
Governments will eventually notice of course: incentivize people long enough not to be successful and guess what: they will not be, at least not in any way that is remotely taxable. Commercially people may notice as large chunks of the economy stagnate: retail, entertainment, indeed many sorts of things that are not essential to daily living. Religious institutions may be the beneficiaries of this - not all of them of course, as such people tend to be less about the appearance of the church and the worship but rather about the integrity of the message and the presence of the Holy in the place.
There is a perfectly viable argument to made that even now, to a large extent, society may be disengaged from with none the worse for wear.
Not notified of elections or financial events? Be honest: to what extent does your involvement in such things matter beyond the initial vote or investment? Not much, to be sure, until the next vote or next investment occurs. Things might go really bad? Possible, but again what will your involvement do except to remind people that you are there?
One day, in the land of drained coffers and wrecked economies and spiritual wastelands and urban centers of decay and rural pastures where all the farming was for corporations, the question will be asked "Where did all the producers go? How do we get them back?"
The reality will be is that mostly likely, they will not be coming back. They are perfectly content to live their lives in solitude and engagement the daily act of living without the need of involvement or oversight.
In the end, it is not those that leave that are the most needy; it is the institutions that drove them away.
It is happening, I know, in small numbers now. But in my soul, my bones, I feel like this is going to start to becomes more and more of a movement.
In is, perhaps, in a sense the quintessential "Going Galt": people realizing that the world simply has nothing to offer them except grief, destruction, and treatment as the financial mule that moves society.
Most people will not notice it in any meaningful way, of course. Folks will suddenly just seem to be not "around" any more - not in society, not (mostly) on-line, not in the stores, not in the entertainment venues, not really anywhere except the places they choose to be, which likely will be away from the public eye (and consumer spending).
Governments will eventually notice of course: incentivize people long enough not to be successful and guess what: they will not be, at least not in any way that is remotely taxable. Commercially people may notice as large chunks of the economy stagnate: retail, entertainment, indeed many sorts of things that are not essential to daily living. Religious institutions may be the beneficiaries of this - not all of them of course, as such people tend to be less about the appearance of the church and the worship but rather about the integrity of the message and the presence of the Holy in the place.
There is a perfectly viable argument to made that even now, to a large extent, society may be disengaged from with none the worse for wear.
Not notified of elections or financial events? Be honest: to what extent does your involvement in such things matter beyond the initial vote or investment? Not much, to be sure, until the next vote or next investment occurs. Things might go really bad? Possible, but again what will your involvement do except to remind people that you are there?
One day, in the land of drained coffers and wrecked economies and spiritual wastelands and urban centers of decay and rural pastures where all the farming was for corporations, the question will be asked "Where did all the producers go? How do we get them back?"
The reality will be is that mostly likely, they will not be coming back. They are perfectly content to live their lives in solitude and engagement the daily act of living without the need of involvement or oversight.
In the end, it is not those that leave that are the most needy; it is the institutions that drove them away.
Tuesday, November 14, 2017
Goodbye Bountiful Gardens
Friends - Sad news today. I was notified via e-mail that Bountiful Gardens (www.bountifulgardens.org) is going out of business after 30 plus years.
This saddens me greatly.
I think I first found Bountiful Gardens in 2004. They had an amazing selection of heirloom seeds reasonably priced (my wheat, corn, and barley yields that year were never beaten). The service was prompt and friendly, and it came to where every year I looked forward to getting their catalog and planning both for my regulars as well as my 2-3 larks I would try just to see if they would grow.
I have no idea why they are going out of business (and they apparently have not announced it) but I will miss them a great deal.
One thought: currently they are selling almost everything at 15% off, so if you want to pick up some unusual seeds now might be the time. I am building up my grain experiments....
Any suggestions for other heirloom, non-GMO seeds?
This saddens me greatly.
I think I first found Bountiful Gardens in 2004. They had an amazing selection of heirloom seeds reasonably priced (my wheat, corn, and barley yields that year were never beaten). The service was prompt and friendly, and it came to where every year I looked forward to getting their catalog and planning both for my regulars as well as my 2-3 larks I would try just to see if they would grow.
I have no idea why they are going out of business (and they apparently have not announced it) but I will miss them a great deal.
One thought: currently they are selling almost everything at 15% off, so if you want to pick up some unusual seeds now might be the time. I am building up my grain experiments....
Any suggestions for other heirloom, non-GMO seeds?
Monday, November 13, 2017
Winter Garden 2017
My 2017 Winter Planting is done.
I have fairly low aspirations this Fall: Garlic (always the Garlic), two kinds of lettuce, two kinds of spinach, leeks, beets, barley, and wheat. This probably a little less than what I usually plant, but then again, my summer garden was nothing to brag about.
A little bit different than other years, of course. My continued heaping of rabbit droppings and horse litter (wood pellets that have degraded) have composted nicely into a lovely humus that is fairly easy to work and retains a great deal of moisture. Basing a little bit off of The One Straw Revolution I have covered the lot with leftover hay from the rabbits.
My plans for this winter? Not much. I'll cover the planting with more hay as it becomes available and let the okra and jalapeno peppers (I managed to get three) go until the cold kills them off, but not much more than that. There is a certain elegance to practicing natural farming, and I intend to see how far I can do it in the home garden.
I have fairly low aspirations this Fall: Garlic (always the Garlic), two kinds of lettuce, two kinds of spinach, leeks, beets, barley, and wheat. This probably a little less than what I usually plant, but then again, my summer garden was nothing to brag about.
A little bit different than other years, of course. My continued heaping of rabbit droppings and horse litter (wood pellets that have degraded) have composted nicely into a lovely humus that is fairly easy to work and retains a great deal of moisture. Basing a little bit off of The One Straw Revolution I have covered the lot with leftover hay from the rabbits.
My plans for this winter? Not much. I'll cover the planting with more hay as it becomes available and let the okra and jalapeno peppers (I managed to get three) go until the cold kills them off, but not much more than that. There is a certain elegance to practicing natural farming, and I intend to see how far I can do it in the home garden.
Saturday, November 11, 2017
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place: and in the sky
The larks still bravely singing fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead: Short days ago,
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved: and now we lie
In Flanders fields!
Take up our quarrel with the foe
To you, from failing hands, we throw
The torch: be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die,
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields
Lt. Colonel John McCrae 03 May 1915
Friday, November 10, 2017
Thursday, November 09, 2017
On Thinking Deeply
Re-reading The One Straw Revolution by Masanobu Fukuoka, I realize that I am not nearly as deep thinking as I need to be.
"A person can analyze and investigate a butterfly all he likes, but he cannot make a butterfly."
"If you hit the mark on the wrong target, you have missed."
"The ultimate goal of farming is not the growing of crops, but the cultivation and perfection of human beings."
"I probably know more about what can go wrong growing agricultural crops than anyone else in Japan."
Why can I not think like this on a more regular basis?
Two factors, I believe: Lack of contemplation and lack of purpose.
My days - almost from the time I get up to the time I go to bed - are filled with activity, both mental and physical. Work has become (literally) a cyclone of activity where I do not seem to have five minutes to contemplate anything, let alone an hour. But deep thoughts only grow out of the soil of thinking deeply and having the ability to do so (silence plays an incredibly important role here as well). A constant stream of information flow and decision making, both internal and external, prevents this.
Deep thinking also occurs about something - we thinking deeply about farming or life or love or the nature of rabbits. Such thinking does not occur in a vacuum. Without a purpose - in our life or in our thinking beyond the day to day activities we undertake - we do not provide grist for the thought mill. Bills and documents and pulling the trash out to the curb on Fridays scarcely has the power to generate the sorts of thoughts that change lives (or maybe they do - if your gift is thinking about the very hum drum nature of existence).
Do I have an answer? Not one that I can readily apply. Yes, I can perhaps create a little more space in my life for the thoughts to occur? But on what? And more importantly, how do I increase that amount of space to think deeply?
"A person can analyze and investigate a butterfly all he likes, but he cannot make a butterfly."
"If you hit the mark on the wrong target, you have missed."
"The ultimate goal of farming is not the growing of crops, but the cultivation and perfection of human beings."
"I probably know more about what can go wrong growing agricultural crops than anyone else in Japan."
Why can I not think like this on a more regular basis?
Two factors, I believe: Lack of contemplation and lack of purpose.
My days - almost from the time I get up to the time I go to bed - are filled with activity, both mental and physical. Work has become (literally) a cyclone of activity where I do not seem to have five minutes to contemplate anything, let alone an hour. But deep thoughts only grow out of the soil of thinking deeply and having the ability to do so (silence plays an incredibly important role here as well). A constant stream of information flow and decision making, both internal and external, prevents this.
Deep thinking also occurs about something - we thinking deeply about farming or life or love or the nature of rabbits. Such thinking does not occur in a vacuum. Without a purpose - in our life or in our thinking beyond the day to day activities we undertake - we do not provide grist for the thought mill. Bills and documents and pulling the trash out to the curb on Fridays scarcely has the power to generate the sorts of thoughts that change lives (or maybe they do - if your gift is thinking about the very hum drum nature of existence).
Do I have an answer? Not one that I can readily apply. Yes, I can perhaps create a little more space in my life for the thoughts to occur? But on what? And more importantly, how do I increase that amount of space to think deeply?
Wednesday, November 08, 2017
The Week of Coupons
This week is the Major Used Book Store's Week of Coupon Sales. It is my equivalent of Halloween - for 7 days.
It is an escalating addiction: 2 days of 20% off the highest price item, then 2 days at 30%, then 2 days at 40% and a last gut wrenching day of 50% off.
Oh, I have worked it out to a science, of course. I start scanning as soon as I get notified of the sale. There are five locations in my relative area, and I go one by one, looking through the sections that I always peruse for this once in a three month opportunity to build my library.
Once I have decided the what and where, then it is the when - after all, I only have one 50% coupon and that has to be used sparingly. If I buy this book at 40%, does it come in at or below the book at 50%? And so it goes.
You may find it a bit foolish that I put this much effort into book purchases. It probably is. None the less, for one week every so often I get to to live in the world of possibilities, of maybes and what ifs. And what a wonderful place it can be.
Now, if you will excuse me, I have something I have to go read...
It is an escalating addiction: 2 days of 20% off the highest price item, then 2 days at 30%, then 2 days at 40% and a last gut wrenching day of 50% off.
Oh, I have worked it out to a science, of course. I start scanning as soon as I get notified of the sale. There are five locations in my relative area, and I go one by one, looking through the sections that I always peruse for this once in a three month opportunity to build my library.
Once I have decided the what and where, then it is the when - after all, I only have one 50% coupon and that has to be used sparingly. If I buy this book at 40%, does it come in at or below the book at 50%? And so it goes.
You may find it a bit foolish that I put this much effort into book purchases. It probably is. None the less, for one week every so often I get to to live in the world of possibilities, of maybes and what ifs. And what a wonderful place it can be.
Now, if you will excuse me, I have something I have to go read...
Tuesday, November 07, 2017
Thinking On "The Next Phase"
So last night The Ravishing Mrs. TB and I had our second discussion about "The Next Phase".
A great deal of this, of course, revolves around what the financing of "The Next Phase" looks like. Sadly (or at least sadly from my point of view anyway) taxes form a fair amount of consideration here. I have started doing the math on tax rates in places I would consider living (yes, I know, there are tax free states and I currently live in one. That said, tax free does not always make it a home). Then balance the tax rate against things like property taxes, housing costs, and cost of living. Then balance that against what one thinks one is likely to make in a different location, perhaps doing a different thing (acknowledging that what I currently do means I have to live in certain places, so to relocate would be to live in one of those places or change what I do).
The second is simply "What would we do there?" Here things diverge a bit more. The Ravishing Mrs. TB would like to travel. I am not so much for travel but for staying home more and doing "things" - gardening, bee keeping, actual reading and contemplating, actually taking care of things (instead of packing it in around the margins). other sorts of things that I simply do not have the time to do at this point. There would have to be a compromise, of course: endless travel is not in the cards and (if I am truly honest) puttering around is not either. There is a happy medium there somewhere to be made.
Why does all this matter? Because it is helping me to frame my thoughts and my actions in the next few years, which have become incredibly important in determining what will happen in the years that follow (even something as simple as "Should I buy this? Do I really need it or could I save the money? And would I really want to move it?"). Thinking about possibly doing something very different in 30 years is nebulous. Thinking about doing something different in as early as less than five is completely different.
Monday, November 06, 2017
10 Miles
Yesterday I ran 10 miles (16 kilometers for my Canadian friends).
I do not know that, had you asked me at the beginning of the year, I would have told you that this is a thing I would have ever contemplated running. Earlier this year, after I ran 7 miles (10 K), I would have told you no way.
So apparently I lied to myself?
Maybe. I had signed up with a friend to run it and something else came up and he decided he was unable to make the run. I was not going to let my registration fee go to waste.
When I run a race, I have only two goals. The first is that I complete the race. The second is that I run through the entire race. It does not matter how slow I go, only that I keep running.
The (somewhat) surprising thing about this race was how amazing supportive folks were that were not running the race. A grandmother who just randomly set up a water booth on the course. Kids who were cheering and ringing cowbells and giving high fives. The police in general, who are standing there for 3+ hours managing traffic - and in one case, an officer who helped to pull a stroller up a hill. And of course all the volunteers and support groups just there ringing cowbells and offering water and shouting their heads off.
The most difficult part? Actually, not the hills (not too many, but I am not a hill person). It was really miles 8 and 9 when I kept having to fight myself to stop from walking and keep running. I think mile 8 was so hard because it was the farthest I had ever gone, mile 9 because it was not mile 10.
How did I do? 1 hour 51 minutes to complete the course, average mile of 11:06 Not bad for 50 years old. I ran it in a kilt because I promised my friend I would, and I ran the whole race - perhaps very slowly at points, but I kept running?
Will I run so far again? My brain says no, but my heart is already thinking "You know, a half marathon is only 3 miles farther...."
I do not know that, had you asked me at the beginning of the year, I would have told you that this is a thing I would have ever contemplated running. Earlier this year, after I ran 7 miles (10 K), I would have told you no way.
So apparently I lied to myself?
Maybe. I had signed up with a friend to run it and something else came up and he decided he was unable to make the run. I was not going to let my registration fee go to waste.
When I run a race, I have only two goals. The first is that I complete the race. The second is that I run through the entire race. It does not matter how slow I go, only that I keep running.
The (somewhat) surprising thing about this race was how amazing supportive folks were that were not running the race. A grandmother who just randomly set up a water booth on the course. Kids who were cheering and ringing cowbells and giving high fives. The police in general, who are standing there for 3+ hours managing traffic - and in one case, an officer who helped to pull a stroller up a hill. And of course all the volunteers and support groups just there ringing cowbells and offering water and shouting their heads off.
The most difficult part? Actually, not the hills (not too many, but I am not a hill person). It was really miles 8 and 9 when I kept having to fight myself to stop from walking and keep running. I think mile 8 was so hard because it was the farthest I had ever gone, mile 9 because it was not mile 10.
How did I do? 1 hour 51 minutes to complete the course, average mile of 11:06 Not bad for 50 years old. I ran it in a kilt because I promised my friend I would, and I ran the whole race - perhaps very slowly at points, but I kept running?
Will I run so far again? My brain says no, but my heart is already thinking "You know, a half marathon is only 3 miles farther...."
Friday, November 03, 2017
Thursday, November 02, 2017
The Economy of Stuff and Ideas
We are passing from the Economy of Stuff to The Economy of Ideas. And, on the whole, I do not know that this necessarily represents an improvement.
The Economy of Stuff is the economy that the global system has been based on since at least the 1950's. It is the economy of the consumer, the economy of things at the lowest possible cost. It is the economy of consumption, the economy of the disposable, the economy of the maker and sellers of things.
The difficulty is twofold, of course. On the one hand, in order to keep making things at a low cost jobs end up moving from place to place. Places that made things are replaced by other places that make things more cheaply. For those that remain, the work they have is replaced - hopefully with something, but sometimes with nothing. One the other hand, the drive to sell things as cheaply as possible ultimately leads to cheap ways to sell things: small stores are replaced by big stores, bigger stores by chains, and chains by stores on the Internet that can ship things from far away.
Eventually, of course people have more stuff than they need. And we are making all the stuff we can. Then comes the next shift, the Economy of Ideas.
The Economy of Ideas is somewhat more nebulous. It still involves the creation and sale of things, but the things are nebulous, tools that help us accomplish things: software, designs, plans. They are higher value things that ultimately help to do lower value things.
But there is a catch here as well: ideas cannot be eaten. They do not directly result in things that can be used. And they require a fairly large infrastructure of support to make those jobs possible. And, there are a finite amount of people that can do them due to the education and skill levels required.
What do we end up with? A society that has started to reach the final point of consumption where it consciously starts to stop consuming. A society where those who perform lower skilled jobs are replaced by the indirect fruits of those who work in the economy of ideas: automatic checkouts instead of checkers or even no stores at all, just sorters and delivery drivers (and this, of course, discounts the field of robotics, which at some point will find its stride - and whole new swaths of career fields will become obsolete). A society where you may have fewer and fewer wealthy and more and more poor, but a society which is also largely paid for by those wealthy.
Do I pine for a return to the old days of "handmade" On the whole, no - I like convenience and the Economy of Ideas has brought things to my life I could have never imagined. But economically there are causes and effects: those out of work buy neither the Economy of Stuff nor the Economy of Ideas. And the economy ideas often relies on the economy of stuff to accomplish what it is producing.
If neither side thinks of the other, I am not sure how it ultimately turns out - except that, oddly enough, neither the Economy of Stuff nor the Economy of Ideas can exist without the other.
Wednesday, November 01, 2017
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