One of the trends of the West - and arguably one can say that it is a trend - is the slow rise of the disregard if not smoldering hostility for Christianity. Christianity is by and large no longer welcome in the public square (somewhere interestingly to me, other religions such as Buddhism or Islam have a sort of "cool" or "novelty" factor that goes along with them). We have not yet reached the point of active hostile persecution but are certainly entering a time of soft persecution.
Where do we go in such times?
Again, I do not discuss politics or religious apologetics on this site. There are people that do and are quite good at it. My thoughts try to run to the more practical. What are Christians to do?
I suggest we go back in our history, back to the early days of the church. Where was the growth?
With the poor. With the needy. With those that the Christians served.
Read the words of Dionysius, Bishop of Alexandria:
"Many of our brother-Christians showed unbounded love and loyalty, never sparing themselves and thinking only of one another. Heedless of the danger, they took charge of the sick, attending to their every need and ministering to them in Christ, and with them departed this life serenely happy, for they were infected by others with the disease, drawing on themselves the sickness of their neighbors and cheerfully accepting their pains. Many, in nursing and curing others, transferred their death to themselves and died in their stead, turning the common formula that is normally an empty courtesy into a reality: "Your humble servant bids you goodbye.". The best of our brothers lost their lives in this manner, a number of presbyters, deacons, and laymen winning high condemnation, so that death in this form, the result of great piety and strong faith, seems in every way the equal of martyrdom. With willing hands they raised the bodies of the saints to their bosoms; they closed their eyes and mouths, carried them on their shoulders, and laid them out; they clung to them, embraced them, washed them, and wrapped them in grave clothes. Very soon the same services were done for them, since those left behind were constantly following those gone before.
The heathens behaved in the very opposite way. At the first onset of the disease, they pushed the sufferers away and fled from their dearest, throwing them into the roads before they were dead and treating unburied corpses as dirt, hoping thereby to avert the spread and contagion of the disease; but do what they might, they found it difficult to escape." - Eusebius, The History of the Church (Penguin, 1989, p. 237).
I do not know that my thoughts are fully developed on this - but I will say this: the world likes to practice the sort of charity that is seen by others and is too often related to special causes that occur occasionally. The real work of need goes on day in and day out, in the hidden spaces that most cannot or will not do.
Here are the holes that Christianity can plug. Here are the places where we can make God real. Here are the places that we can impact lives. Here are the places that perceptions or beliefs about how Christians "are" run smack into the deeds that they do.
The world is consumed with itself. Christianity commands us to first be consumed with God\, then with others, self last of all.
Our influence may be temporarily - or permanently - waning. The soft persecution of words and laughter may pass into the hard persecution of abuse or imprisonment or even death. But we have a chance to really take a part of the world by storm, a part that society too often pays lip service to or is passively served by Government.
As I stated earlier, the path of success to anything is laid out. We need only to follow the footprints of those who have gone before.
Thursday, July 02, 2015
Wednesday, July 01, 2015
The Mighty Snowball is Fallen
The Mighty Snowball is gone.
He had been losing weight for a bit but still seemed to have an appetite, still energetic and playful and interactive. And then today, when I got home, a threshold had been passed, a threshold that animal owners probably know all too well.
He had some of his favorite carrots and a little electrolytes and then we just sat in the chair and rocked waiting for the time to come. He was a family member to the end: he waited until The Ravishing Mrs. TB and Nighean Gheal got home and started to enter the door before he slipped off to hurl his spirit through space.
He was with us about 5.5 years, a school rabbit baby (the size of my hand originally) that came home with Nighean Bhan and eventually ended up a ward of my own (which they most all seem to). He was a fine companion, most tolerant and loving. He loved to race around the back yard and would play tag with you, waiting for you to run to one end of the yard before he then raced after you.
He was the only rabbit I know that made noises as he moved, little sorts of grunts as he hopped back and forth. He loved to be held and be pet and was always one that was happy to see you.
And now, he is gone.
In Richard Adams' classic Watership Down El-Arairah, the rabbit folk hero of the rabbit's tales, has a sort of personal guard - the Owsla - which is a sort of wild hunt of great rabbit heroes, joined by invitation only:
" "You've been feeling tired" said the stranger, "but I can do something about that. I've come to ask whether you'd care to join my Owsla. We shall be glad to have you and you'll enjoy it. If you're ready, we might go along now."
They went out past the young sentry, who paid the visitor no attention. The sun was shining and in spite of the cold there were a few bucks and does at silfay, keeping out of the wind as they nibbled the shoots of spring grass. It seemed to Hazel that he would not be needing his body any more, so he left it lying on the edge of the ditch, but stopped for a moment to watch his rabbits and to try to get used to extraordinary feeling that strength and speed were flowing inexhaustibly out of him into their sleek young bodies and healthy senses.
"You needn't worry about them," said his companion. "They'll be all right - and thousands like them. If you come along, I'll show you what I mean."
He reached the top of the bank in a single powerful leap. Hazel followed, and together they skipped away, running easily through the wood, where the first primroses were beginning to bloom."
In my understanding, or maybe my belief of Scripture, animals are part of Heaven (God created them after all and He seems to love them a great deal because He made so many different kinds. I think C.S. Lewis believed the same.). And so I hope, albeit with a few tears in my eyes, that Snowball now runs fast and gloriously across Heaven's green field.
Run hard dear friend. Run free.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Animal Rescue - Ukraine
One of the less thought of casualties in any conflict are animals. They are sort of taken for granted I suppose - either left behind to fend for themselves. Here's a sort of nice story about someone who actually is doing something to address an actual need:
http://uatoday.tv/society/ukrainian-volunteers-rescue-abandoned-animals-of-war-446901.html
http://uatoday.tv/society/ukrainian-volunteers-rescue-abandoned-animals-of-war-446901.html
Monday, June 29, 2015
My Head Hurts
There are mornings when I get, look at the goings on of the world, and then just sit there watching my coffee steam. It makes my head hurt.
It used to be only once in a while, It seems to be a lot more frequently now. It used to be only in some places and locales. Now it seems to be everywhere.
The difficulty with being a student of history, of course, is knowing what history holds and how it works. It always surprises me - a little - that those who believe that success is repeatable if only we do what the successful did are those who seemingly forget that failure is always repeatable if we do what those that failed did.
You may wonder if I am talking to a particular issue. You know, of course, one of my cardinal rules of the sites: no politics, religious struggles of my own. That said, there are simply so many issues on which we seem to be repeating the errors of the past that the only thing that will surprise me at this point is how long we are able to go on.
I will take an easy one, one that should create little ill will among my readers and involved the politics of precisely no-one present: the fate of Greece.
In a nutshell, Greece has borrowed over time more than it can repay. the solution ( I want to say it was 2014 but perhaps a bit earlier) was to change the government and go on an austerity plan while continuing to service the debt. This has not worked effectively: spending has not gone down where it needs to be. Greece has now threatened several times that the debt be renegotiated or they will simply stop paying. It looks like it may finally happen - as of yesterday, all Greek banks are on a one week holiday and citizens are restricted to withdrawing 60 Euros a day.
Think about it: an unsustainable debt continuing to get worse and eats more and more of the general income. If this were a household, we would cry out "Change your spending habit!". If this is a country, we simply shrug our shoulders and say "Well, that is the way it is - besides, some day we will make it up".
What happens for Greece? Nothing good - either they come back to repaying a debt they can never repay and do not improve the lives of their citizens or they repudiate the debt, re-establish the drachma, and become the economic and national equivalent of the kid who no one lends anything too anymore because they do not pay it back. Real consequences that have been repeated time and time again historically.
Did I mention the US has$18 Trillion in known debt and up to$ 49 Trillion in unfunded liabilities? Or our current estimated budget deficit, which has fallen for the last 6 years, is a mere $468 Billion?
And this is just one minor item, one among many. We love the scientific method and the social method that tell us cause and effect works, and then fail to actually ever connect cause and effect.
The difference to me? In all of the many issues this covers, not much. My ability to impact any of this is minimal but its impact upon me may be large. I suspect I am not the only one - throughout history, the ebb and flow of empires and nations and ideologies has swept along the inhabitants of the times willingly or unwillingly, dragging them either to the reefs of reality or pushing them past the reefs by the skin of their teeth.
On days like today, my head hurts. And there is nothing for it but to finish my coffee, go out, and do what little I can to prepare for the storm I know is coming.
It used to be only once in a while, It seems to be a lot more frequently now. It used to be only in some places and locales. Now it seems to be everywhere.
The difficulty with being a student of history, of course, is knowing what history holds and how it works. It always surprises me - a little - that those who believe that success is repeatable if only we do what the successful did are those who seemingly forget that failure is always repeatable if we do what those that failed did.
You may wonder if I am talking to a particular issue. You know, of course, one of my cardinal rules of the sites: no politics, religious struggles of my own. That said, there are simply so many issues on which we seem to be repeating the errors of the past that the only thing that will surprise me at this point is how long we are able to go on.
I will take an easy one, one that should create little ill will among my readers and involved the politics of precisely no-one present: the fate of Greece.
In a nutshell, Greece has borrowed over time more than it can repay. the solution ( I want to say it was 2014 but perhaps a bit earlier) was to change the government and go on an austerity plan while continuing to service the debt. This has not worked effectively: spending has not gone down where it needs to be. Greece has now threatened several times that the debt be renegotiated or they will simply stop paying. It looks like it may finally happen - as of yesterday, all Greek banks are on a one week holiday and citizens are restricted to withdrawing 60 Euros a day.
Think about it: an unsustainable debt continuing to get worse and eats more and more of the general income. If this were a household, we would cry out "Change your spending habit!". If this is a country, we simply shrug our shoulders and say "Well, that is the way it is - besides, some day we will make it up".
What happens for Greece? Nothing good - either they come back to repaying a debt they can never repay and do not improve the lives of their citizens or they repudiate the debt, re-establish the drachma, and become the economic and national equivalent of the kid who no one lends anything too anymore because they do not pay it back. Real consequences that have been repeated time and time again historically.
Did I mention the US has$18 Trillion in known debt and up to$ 49 Trillion in unfunded liabilities? Or our current estimated budget deficit, which has fallen for the last 6 years, is a mere $468 Billion?
And this is just one minor item, one among many. We love the scientific method and the social method that tell us cause and effect works, and then fail to actually ever connect cause and effect.
The difference to me? In all of the many issues this covers, not much. My ability to impact any of this is minimal but its impact upon me may be large. I suspect I am not the only one - throughout history, the ebb and flow of empires and nations and ideologies has swept along the inhabitants of the times willingly or unwillingly, dragging them either to the reefs of reality or pushing them past the reefs by the skin of their teeth.
On days like today, my head hurts. And there is nothing for it but to finish my coffee, go out, and do what little I can to prepare for the storm I know is coming.
Sunday, June 28, 2015
So How Does Your Garden Grow? - 28 June 2015 Edition
You may remember back in April that I cleared some additional gardening space:
What has happened in the intervening 2.5 months?
Turns out that compost is loaded with all kinds of good things which are just waiting for the excuse to grow.
From my initial planting most of my actual things did not take: alfalfa, rye, even wheat all turned out to be busts (I truly blame the fact that I did not plant until April). What I got instead were two kinds of pumpkins, cantelopes, tomatos, and some corn. The actual corn I planted got stunted but is finally coming up (it got overrun by a pumpkin plant). The one true success at this point ssems to be the sweet sorghum, which is that large clump near the back.
You will notice a bare spot in the middle. Yesterday I cleared out the remains of a dying pumpkin plant (pumpkins, in these parts, appear to be up and done by this time of the year - heat, I suppose) and planted three kinds of beans and a couple of okra plants to supplement the few I planted earlier that had been nibbled upon (but are now moving forward). Also doing well but not pictured are two tomato plants and a Jalapeno plant. My final finish in another area was all the Black-eyed peas I could plant. I will try and plant some hot weather greens in a planter and that will be the garden until fall.
Having this new (and suprisingly productive) area is changing my perspective of how I want to garden moving forward. All of a sudden, the back area against the fence - my original garden which is semi-shaded by a neighbor's oak - holds out the promise of becoming my part time grain growing area. I love growing grains but they always bleed into the spring when I should be planting and then the garden bleeds over to the fall when I should be planting. Quite possibly this problems will elminate itself (although I still need to work on what grains I can grow here). This new area - no more than 3' x 23' or 69 sq feet (6.41 sq meters if the old hand calculations still work) - gets every hour that the sun is up in the sky with no concern of trees ever. Square foot gardening indeed. Mel Bartholomew would be proud.
There are still lots of things to play with, of course. Crop mix is a large one - growing here instead of Old Home, I am having to re-educate myself on what grows well and what does not (for the record so far, Black-eyed peas, peppers, okra, pumpkings, and possibly sweet sorghum are winners. Tomatos continue to remain in the "maybe" category). And my apparent success with one smaller area make me thing that some raised beds just downhill of this intial bed may increase my production a great deal.
But one thing at the time. This is by far the most success I have had in six years. Now to just water, weed, watch - and plot for the future.
What has happened in the intervening 2.5 months?
Turns out that compost is loaded with all kinds of good things which are just waiting for the excuse to grow.
From my initial planting most of my actual things did not take: alfalfa, rye, even wheat all turned out to be busts (I truly blame the fact that I did not plant until April). What I got instead were two kinds of pumpkins, cantelopes, tomatos, and some corn. The actual corn I planted got stunted but is finally coming up (it got overrun by a pumpkin plant). The one true success at this point ssems to be the sweet sorghum, which is that large clump near the back.
You will notice a bare spot in the middle. Yesterday I cleared out the remains of a dying pumpkin plant (pumpkins, in these parts, appear to be up and done by this time of the year - heat, I suppose) and planted three kinds of beans and a couple of okra plants to supplement the few I planted earlier that had been nibbled upon (but are now moving forward). Also doing well but not pictured are two tomato plants and a Jalapeno plant. My final finish in another area was all the Black-eyed peas I could plant. I will try and plant some hot weather greens in a planter and that will be the garden until fall.
Having this new (and suprisingly productive) area is changing my perspective of how I want to garden moving forward. All of a sudden, the back area against the fence - my original garden which is semi-shaded by a neighbor's oak - holds out the promise of becoming my part time grain growing area. I love growing grains but they always bleed into the spring when I should be planting and then the garden bleeds over to the fall when I should be planting. Quite possibly this problems will elminate itself (although I still need to work on what grains I can grow here). This new area - no more than 3' x 23' or 69 sq feet (6.41 sq meters if the old hand calculations still work) - gets every hour that the sun is up in the sky with no concern of trees ever. Square foot gardening indeed. Mel Bartholomew would be proud.
There are still lots of things to play with, of course. Crop mix is a large one - growing here instead of Old Home, I am having to re-educate myself on what grows well and what does not (for the record so far, Black-eyed peas, peppers, okra, pumpkings, and possibly sweet sorghum are winners. Tomatos continue to remain in the "maybe" category). And my apparent success with one smaller area make me thing that some raised beds just downhill of this intial bed may increase my production a great deal.
But one thing at the time. This is by far the most success I have had in six years. Now to just water, weed, watch - and plot for the future.
Saturday, June 27, 2015
Ichiryo Gusoku and Quietly Disappearing
So what does the application of Ichiryo Gusoku look like?
That is a question that I need to spend time looking at, now that the decision to slowly remove myself is upon me. It changes a lot of things, really a sort of moving from the theoretical to more of the actual.
One place, of course, is simply what I do. There is a lot of what I do or what I want to do that is built on presuppositions of how I want my life to work and run, things that I considered (past tense) important. These are moved to the side now and the activities need to be couched and considered in terms of my more ultimate plans.
Some of the things- cheesemaking or gardening or those darn quail - will continue to happen and in fact, need to start happening more regularly, more frequently, and more completely. These are activities that directly impact (in small ways, to be sure) my independence of the system (it seems silly, but eggs climbed here by almost 100% in price and are limited in how much you can purchase. My sweet quail continue to give me two to three eggs a day).
But there are other activities I need to explore, things that I am simply not skilled or good at right now: minor carpentry or some appliance repair (managed to figure out how to clear the inlet on the washing machine such that the hot water can flow again), the sort of thing that comes in useful on a daily basis.
Career - Ah, here is the biggest question of them all. The career path I have is neutral to this sort of thing - it neither increases my skills nor decreases them in this area. The unfortunate reality is, given my age and time in life, this is not something that will readily change to my benefit. At best, I can hope to end out best working years here; at worst, we either stay here at a reduced income or go somewhere else to start over. The things I can do within this current construct is to get as much training and experience as possible to make myself as marketable a possible for as long as possible.
Finances, of course. Always kind of a difficult subject, but it is time that the discussion began in earnest. And not just about the big things but about the underlying concept of reducing expenses in every area and learning to live more simply.
That is part of quietly disappearing of course, the art being unremarkable. To let your presence rest so lightly everywhere - both commercially as well as publically - that you are simply overlooked.
And then to take that time, that money, that lack of attention, and invest it making your life and the lives of those you love better, more independent and less dependent. To truly live as an Ichiryo Gusoku.
That is a question that I need to spend time looking at, now that the decision to slowly remove myself is upon me. It changes a lot of things, really a sort of moving from the theoretical to more of the actual.
One place, of course, is simply what I do. There is a lot of what I do or what I want to do that is built on presuppositions of how I want my life to work and run, things that I considered (past tense) important. These are moved to the side now and the activities need to be couched and considered in terms of my more ultimate plans.
Some of the things- cheesemaking or gardening or those darn quail - will continue to happen and in fact, need to start happening more regularly, more frequently, and more completely. These are activities that directly impact (in small ways, to be sure) my independence of the system (it seems silly, but eggs climbed here by almost 100% in price and are limited in how much you can purchase. My sweet quail continue to give me two to three eggs a day).
But there are other activities I need to explore, things that I am simply not skilled or good at right now: minor carpentry or some appliance repair (managed to figure out how to clear the inlet on the washing machine such that the hot water can flow again), the sort of thing that comes in useful on a daily basis.
Career - Ah, here is the biggest question of them all. The career path I have is neutral to this sort of thing - it neither increases my skills nor decreases them in this area. The unfortunate reality is, given my age and time in life, this is not something that will readily change to my benefit. At best, I can hope to end out best working years here; at worst, we either stay here at a reduced income or go somewhere else to start over. The things I can do within this current construct is to get as much training and experience as possible to make myself as marketable a possible for as long as possible.
Finances, of course. Always kind of a difficult subject, but it is time that the discussion began in earnest. And not just about the big things but about the underlying concept of reducing expenses in every area and learning to live more simply.
That is part of quietly disappearing of course, the art being unremarkable. To let your presence rest so lightly everywhere - both commercially as well as publically - that you are simply overlooked.
And then to take that time, that money, that lack of attention, and invest it making your life and the lives of those you love better, more independent and less dependent. To truly live as an Ichiryo Gusoku.
Friday, June 26, 2015
Quietly Disappearing
I have come to the conclusion that it is time to quietly begin scaling back my presence.
It has probably been a long time coming and, let us be honest, a lot of this has to do with the fact that much like a garage which has collected years of half finished projects (like, say, my own), I have internet bits of me scattered hither and yon. One does not really give such things a second thought over time. Until one does.
Consider this, perhaps, the logical extension of my week of forced disengagement. Perhaps even consider it a legitimate concern that, over time, one's presence becomes fragmented to the point that one can scarcely keep track of everywhere one is or what one has done.
But at any rate, the time has come.
It started tonight, quietly going through and deleting accounts on places that I scarcely go anymore or other e-mails that I have used in the past but no longer. A pulling away from some online publishing sites. A quiet reduction in force of where I can be found.
This blog, you may ask? Not likely, at least not now. This blog is one of the outlets I continue to maintain, as much for my own sanity as for any benefit anyone else may realize from it. The hazy anonymity allows me to write in almost my real and true voice, a rarity anymore..
Some would refer to it as "Going Grey", the concept of becoming unremarkable in a crowd in order not to stand out in the crowd. Not to attract attention. Not to be noticed.
I will continue to work with the han of Ichiryo Gusoku, quietly working to better my life and become more independent - at least inward facing and within my home. But I am working on become the dull gray haze that appears just before morning or evening, that ill defined moment where night becomes day or vice versa.
Maintain a rich inner life within the circle of those you trust. Be otherwise unremarkable.
It has probably been a long time coming and, let us be honest, a lot of this has to do with the fact that much like a garage which has collected years of half finished projects (like, say, my own), I have internet bits of me scattered hither and yon. One does not really give such things a second thought over time. Until one does.
Consider this, perhaps, the logical extension of my week of forced disengagement. Perhaps even consider it a legitimate concern that, over time, one's presence becomes fragmented to the point that one can scarcely keep track of everywhere one is or what one has done.
But at any rate, the time has come.
It started tonight, quietly going through and deleting accounts on places that I scarcely go anymore or other e-mails that I have used in the past but no longer. A pulling away from some online publishing sites. A quiet reduction in force of where I can be found.
This blog, you may ask? Not likely, at least not now. This blog is one of the outlets I continue to maintain, as much for my own sanity as for any benefit anyone else may realize from it. The hazy anonymity allows me to write in almost my real and true voice, a rarity anymore..
Some would refer to it as "Going Grey", the concept of becoming unremarkable in a crowd in order not to stand out in the crowd. Not to attract attention. Not to be noticed.
I will continue to work with the han of Ichiryo Gusoku, quietly working to better my life and become more independent - at least inward facing and within my home. But I am working on become the dull gray haze that appears just before morning or evening, that ill defined moment where night becomes day or vice versa.
Maintain a rich inner life within the circle of those you trust. Be otherwise unremarkable.
The Hidden Work
So the audit is over. 2.5 days of two auditors equaling 5 days of auditing, a single nonconformity. Over a 90% improvement from the first go round some years ago.
You would think I would be more excited. I mean, after all, a 90% improvement is something which seldom happens in anything. And the result of this successful audit is that everyone at the company will continue to have a job for some number of years. It is legitimately sort of a big thing.
And yet I already feel it passing into the wind.
This is the reality, not just for myself for thousands of those just like me throughout industries, the ones performing the hidden jobs which so desperately need to be accomplished to keep the wheels of any commerce and industry working. They are seldom the recognized or powerful,not often those for whom press releases are written about or appear in board meetings. These are the ones that keep the whole machine moving from day to day.
I wonder, in my off hour thoughts, how many are actually conscious of that fact, that their documents move or products get produced or machinery is maintained by those who names they may never know and whose jobs they quite possibly could not do. Do they actually think of such things or are they merely conscious of their own worlds of planning and strategy?
This is not meant to open or be a discussion on economic systems or the comparison of them but rather a simple reflection on the fact that in our modern society, most of what we benefit from is not directly planned, documented, or performed by ourselves. Are we ever really conscious of this fact?
You would think I would be more excited. I mean, after all, a 90% improvement is something which seldom happens in anything. And the result of this successful audit is that everyone at the company will continue to have a job for some number of years. It is legitimately sort of a big thing.
And yet I already feel it passing into the wind.
This is the reality, not just for myself for thousands of those just like me throughout industries, the ones performing the hidden jobs which so desperately need to be accomplished to keep the wheels of any commerce and industry working. They are seldom the recognized or powerful,not often those for whom press releases are written about or appear in board meetings. These are the ones that keep the whole machine moving from day to day.
I wonder, in my off hour thoughts, how many are actually conscious of that fact, that their documents move or products get produced or machinery is maintained by those who names they may never know and whose jobs they quite possibly could not do. Do they actually think of such things or are they merely conscious of their own worlds of planning and strategy?
This is not meant to open or be a discussion on economic systems or the comparison of them but rather a simple reflection on the fact that in our modern society, most of what we benefit from is not directly planned, documented, or performed by ourselves. Are we ever really conscious of this fact?
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Monday, June 22, 2015
Discontentment
It has been brought to my attention (mostly by God) that I have a significant issued with contentment.
There are two types of contentment, and it is probably worth recognizing the difference up front. The first kind - the good kind - is the contentment that involves who we are and the activities we do. In this sense we should also seek to be discontent with ourselves and our activities, always seeking to make ourselves better.
The second kind - of which I am writing today - relates to the financial and physical things of our life. This is the discontent that is never quite happy with what we have or where we are or the things in them. There is always an underlying sense of "I need" that tinges our thoughts and our conversations, our dreams and our planning. We wake to find that there is always something not quite right in our immediate circle of life; we go to sleep with the sense that there is something outstanding which prevents us from truly enjoying our life.
God is pretty clear about contentment in the New Testament: "Keep your life free from love of money and be content with what you have" says the writer of Hebrews in 13:5. And the Apostle Paul told Timothy "There is great gain in godliness with contentment. For we brought nothing into the world and we cannot take anything out of the world but if we have food and clothing, with these we shall be content." (First Timothy 5:6-8). The life of the Christian is to be about other things and focused on other things besides the acquisition of material goods, or even the acquisition of the perfect life ("Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you." - Christ, Matthew 6:33).
But sadly, I am not.
Discontent has done nothing good in my life, to be sure. It has driven me from one house to another, one job to another, even one career to another - all of which seemed to end rather poorly, on the whole. My life now finds itself filled with stacks and boxes and my first impulse is to procure more, not pare down what I have.
If unchecked, of course, this leads to nothing but piles of stuff and the mountains of debt to go with it, as well as every hallmark of the unsatisfied existence: the profound "midlife crisis" that we all chuckle about but is all too real, in which even more discontent arises and even greater harm can ensue.
I have to start dealing in realities.
The realities are this: based on my age and experience, my ability to change career fields or really even move up a great deal more in my current one is not there. Thus, my lifestyle is not going to significantly financially (and therefore physically change) - and honestly, I am probably two jobs out from no longer really being employable in my field. We are also entering a period of transition, as within 10 years the house and home we have established will be radically different with the departure of Na Clann to start lives of their own.
The reality: The Blockbuster Novel is not there. The Meteoric Rise to Head of Anything is not there. The Empire that would accompany such is not coming. The Great Leader role, sadly, has been taken by others. The only thing that is there is patient gains in small increments not disturbed by continued random flailing to find the next biggest thing.
There is plenty for me to be discontent about. But they are all internal to me, not external.
Time to embrace being content with what I have.
There are two types of contentment, and it is probably worth recognizing the difference up front. The first kind - the good kind - is the contentment that involves who we are and the activities we do. In this sense we should also seek to be discontent with ourselves and our activities, always seeking to make ourselves better.
The second kind - of which I am writing today - relates to the financial and physical things of our life. This is the discontent that is never quite happy with what we have or where we are or the things in them. There is always an underlying sense of "I need" that tinges our thoughts and our conversations, our dreams and our planning. We wake to find that there is always something not quite right in our immediate circle of life; we go to sleep with the sense that there is something outstanding which prevents us from truly enjoying our life.
God is pretty clear about contentment in the New Testament: "Keep your life free from love of money and be content with what you have" says the writer of Hebrews in 13:5. And the Apostle Paul told Timothy "There is great gain in godliness with contentment. For we brought nothing into the world and we cannot take anything out of the world but if we have food and clothing, with these we shall be content." (First Timothy 5:6-8). The life of the Christian is to be about other things and focused on other things besides the acquisition of material goods, or even the acquisition of the perfect life ("Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you." - Christ, Matthew 6:33).
But sadly, I am not.
Discontent has done nothing good in my life, to be sure. It has driven me from one house to another, one job to another, even one career to another - all of which seemed to end rather poorly, on the whole. My life now finds itself filled with stacks and boxes and my first impulse is to procure more, not pare down what I have.
If unchecked, of course, this leads to nothing but piles of stuff and the mountains of debt to go with it, as well as every hallmark of the unsatisfied existence: the profound "midlife crisis" that we all chuckle about but is all too real, in which even more discontent arises and even greater harm can ensue.
I have to start dealing in realities.
The realities are this: based on my age and experience, my ability to change career fields or really even move up a great deal more in my current one is not there. Thus, my lifestyle is not going to significantly financially (and therefore physically change) - and honestly, I am probably two jobs out from no longer really being employable in my field. We are also entering a period of transition, as within 10 years the house and home we have established will be radically different with the departure of Na Clann to start lives of their own.
The reality: The Blockbuster Novel is not there. The Meteoric Rise to Head of Anything is not there. The Empire that would accompany such is not coming. The Great Leader role, sadly, has been taken by others. The only thing that is there is patient gains in small increments not disturbed by continued random flailing to find the next biggest thing.
There is plenty for me to be discontent about. But they are all internal to me, not external.
Time to embrace being content with what I have.
Friday, June 19, 2015
Interview Gone Wrong
You can always tell when an interview has gone horribly wrong.
I have done enough interviews on both sides of the table, as interviewer and interviewee, to get a sense of when things are not going to work out. There's a certain sense to the conversation: the questions are general and there is a lot of silence, the conversation does not have the easy flow of individuals exchanging information but rather a stilted sense that makes one uncomfortable, and a general feeling as the interview continues that questions are being asked more for the sake of form that for actual expectation of information gathering.
Frankly, I end the conversation depressed and feeling like I have wasted both my own and the interviewer's time.
Not all interviews are like this of course, which leads me to wonder if some of this has anything to do as much with the individuals involved as it does with any reality of my lack of fit for a position. This is possible I suppose - after all, interviewers come in all shapes and sizes just as interviewees do and questions can be asked in many different ways. And yet sometimes it seems like some of them may actually make an attempt while others are just doing it because this one was required.
Still, it is somewhat depressing to suddenly realize that halfway into a interview that it is simply going nowhere, an exercise in futility for all concerned which must finished because it was started - much like the lunch date that one figures out just after ordering will not work out and yet the food has not yet come so small talk must be made to get through the meal: Form for the sake of form rather than the sake of function.
I am sure - well, I hope that I am sure - that I will have more of them in the future, perhaps something that may actually lead to to something. Because interviews themselves are stressful enough - let alone interviews that will simply lead to nothing.
I have done enough interviews on both sides of the table, as interviewer and interviewee, to get a sense of when things are not going to work out. There's a certain sense to the conversation: the questions are general and there is a lot of silence, the conversation does not have the easy flow of individuals exchanging information but rather a stilted sense that makes one uncomfortable, and a general feeling as the interview continues that questions are being asked more for the sake of form that for actual expectation of information gathering.
Frankly, I end the conversation depressed and feeling like I have wasted both my own and the interviewer's time.
Not all interviews are like this of course, which leads me to wonder if some of this has anything to do as much with the individuals involved as it does with any reality of my lack of fit for a position. This is possible I suppose - after all, interviewers come in all shapes and sizes just as interviewees do and questions can be asked in many different ways. And yet sometimes it seems like some of them may actually make an attempt while others are just doing it because this one was required.
Still, it is somewhat depressing to suddenly realize that halfway into a interview that it is simply going nowhere, an exercise in futility for all concerned which must finished because it was started - much like the lunch date that one figures out just after ordering will not work out and yet the food has not yet come so small talk must be made to get through the meal: Form for the sake of form rather than the sake of function.
I am sure - well, I hope that I am sure - that I will have more of them in the future, perhaps something that may actually lead to to something. Because interviews themselves are stressful enough - let alone interviews that will simply lead to nothing.
Thursday, June 18, 2015
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
What Brings You Alive?
"Anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you." - David Whyte
What brings me alive? This is the question that has wormed its way into my consciousness this week as I have been facing the dull roar of what my life actually is. Suffice it to say that I hardly feel "alive" for large parts of my day; I feel much more like the living dead shuffling through yet another zombie movie looking for the living.
So fine, what I do does not bring me alive. What does?:
- Writing
- Harp
- Making things (cheese, mead) with my hands
- Animals
- Gardening
- Reading
- Iaijutsu
- Throwing (and its corollary, training)
This are the things that light my fires, that give my life color and meaning, that make me feel alive (instead of the living dead). So how do I go about doing more of these?
That is the question, really. Because being the living dead will move quickly enough to being the actual dead.
What brings me alive? This is the question that has wormed its way into my consciousness this week as I have been facing the dull roar of what my life actually is. Suffice it to say that I hardly feel "alive" for large parts of my day; I feel much more like the living dead shuffling through yet another zombie movie looking for the living.
So fine, what I do does not bring me alive. What does?:
- Writing
- Harp
- Making things (cheese, mead) with my hands
- Animals
- Gardening
- Reading
- Iaijutsu
- Throwing (and its corollary, training)
This are the things that light my fires, that give my life color and meaning, that make me feel alive (instead of the living dead). So how do I go about doing more of these?
That is the question, really. Because being the living dead will move quickly enough to being the actual dead.
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
Why I Hate Movies
Last night we went to see Jurassic World. The Ravishing Mrs. TB has looking forward to this movie for something like 15 years and Na Clann like Chris Pratt. As for myself, I have not been to see a film near it's release date since the original Hobbit in 2012 so it was my triennial viewing.
The movie, at least from a standard point of view, was entertaining. It attempted to reconnect with the original themes of the movie and book (man's use of science, the ultimate introduction of "Non-native Species" into an ecosystem, the importance of family) in perhaps not quite as powerful a way as the first one but definitely better than the two sequels. Chris Pratt does well with his character, which is a sort of nondescript ex-SEAL animal trainer (I guess? Never really explained). The dinosaurs are grand of course - CGI has come a long way since 1992.
And yet, leaving the movie, I found myself depressed.
Depressed because the glory of the cinema seems to overwhelm the rather muted shades of my own life.
Let us be honest: a well made movie submerges us in the plot (as does a book), drawing us into the characters and situations. In a well crafted one, we leave almost like we are taking leave of a vacation destination which, having arrived at, we never intended to depart from. And upon departure, we arrive back a our real lives, which are not nearly so interesting or vibrant compared to what we have just experienced.
I understand: It is a movie. And I have enough clarity of mind to understand that such things are fantasies - and yes, I can distinguish between the two. Yet the sense of seeing the lives of characters, especially characters which you find your spouse and children swooning for out of the corner of your eyes, makes the comparison - even if imaginary - that much more painful.
I am not an ex-anything, let alone a trainer of dangerous carnivores. I cannot jump or tumble and am not a crack shot. I do not live on some tropical island in a trailer or ride a motorcycle or do any of 50 manly things I witnessed last night. In my case, the rather sad reality is I push papers for a living. My trailer on a tropical island is a house in suburbs that needs a new fence and better lawn care. My uber-cool transport is a 5 year old car with 1 year left to pay and a cracked windshield. And sadly enough, the only swooning that seems to go on are the rabbits who are always happy to see me.
Again, I understand - movies are fantasy and no-one really lives that way. But the implication that such a thing could exist against the stark reality of what life seems to be is what depresses me so much - the realization that such "perfect" characteristics are not really mine and (given the remaining time frame) not likely to ever be mine.
And thus, why I hate movies: They provoke flights of fantasy that only result in making an otherwise perfectly reasonable life appear all the more shabby because it fails to evoke excitement and vibrancy that a society pursuing pleasure and self-actualization above all else has somehow "convinced" us that we deserve.
The movie, at least from a standard point of view, was entertaining. It attempted to reconnect with the original themes of the movie and book (man's use of science, the ultimate introduction of "Non-native Species" into an ecosystem, the importance of family) in perhaps not quite as powerful a way as the first one but definitely better than the two sequels. Chris Pratt does well with his character, which is a sort of nondescript ex-SEAL animal trainer (I guess? Never really explained). The dinosaurs are grand of course - CGI has come a long way since 1992.
And yet, leaving the movie, I found myself depressed.
Depressed because the glory of the cinema seems to overwhelm the rather muted shades of my own life.
Let us be honest: a well made movie submerges us in the plot (as does a book), drawing us into the characters and situations. In a well crafted one, we leave almost like we are taking leave of a vacation destination which, having arrived at, we never intended to depart from. And upon departure, we arrive back a our real lives, which are not nearly so interesting or vibrant compared to what we have just experienced.
I understand: It is a movie. And I have enough clarity of mind to understand that such things are fantasies - and yes, I can distinguish between the two. Yet the sense of seeing the lives of characters, especially characters which you find your spouse and children swooning for out of the corner of your eyes, makes the comparison - even if imaginary - that much more painful.
I am not an ex-anything, let alone a trainer of dangerous carnivores. I cannot jump or tumble and am not a crack shot. I do not live on some tropical island in a trailer or ride a motorcycle or do any of 50 manly things I witnessed last night. In my case, the rather sad reality is I push papers for a living. My trailer on a tropical island is a house in suburbs that needs a new fence and better lawn care. My uber-cool transport is a 5 year old car with 1 year left to pay and a cracked windshield. And sadly enough, the only swooning that seems to go on are the rabbits who are always happy to see me.
Again, I understand - movies are fantasy and no-one really lives that way. But the implication that such a thing could exist against the stark reality of what life seems to be is what depresses me so much - the realization that such "perfect" characteristics are not really mine and (given the remaining time frame) not likely to ever be mine.
And thus, why I hate movies: They provoke flights of fantasy that only result in making an otherwise perfectly reasonable life appear all the more shabby because it fails to evoke excitement and vibrancy that a society pursuing pleasure and self-actualization above all else has somehow "convinced" us that we deserve.
Monday, June 15, 2015
Here Is Never Here
Here is never here.
Here is always somewhere else,
sometime else, some other thing:
that which we never can quite grasp.
Here is never here.
It is the point of the sunset over the horizon,
the tomorrow that is never quite promised
because it is never quite known.
Here is never here.
Neither is it there:
it lies in the twilight between desires and reality,
a siren's song of the almost possible.
Here is never here.
And so we wander,
ever seeking for that which might easily be
within our grasp if only we said:
"Here is here".
Here is always somewhere else,
sometime else, some other thing:
that which we never can quite grasp.
Here is never here.
It is the point of the sunset over the horizon,
the tomorrow that is never quite promised
because it is never quite known.
Here is never here.
Neither is it there:
it lies in the twilight between desires and reality,
a siren's song of the almost possible.
Here is never here.
And so we wander,
ever seeking for that which might easily be
within our grasp if only we said:
"Here is here".
Friday, June 12, 2015
Thursday, June 11, 2015
The Ability to Admit Mistakes
My special mutant power is the ability to make mistakes.
I make all kinds of mistakes. I make small mistakes, like failing to close my gas cap cover after getting fuel and being "that person" driving down the freeway. I make medium mistakes, like mis-spelling error on important presentations. I make big mistakes, like asserting something and then finding out I was 180 degrees wrong. And I make supersized, Death Star-like mistakes, like completely changing careers for one that does not suit me as well at all.
I make mistakes. Yet another mistake was assuming the everyone else has the ability to make them, laugh and learn about them, and carry on.
This really surprises me. Perhaps I have become so immune to mistakes on my psyche that admitting them is no more shocking than stubbing my toe - immediate pain and a bit inconvenient, but little more. But it seems that for others - a lot of others - making mistakes is the thing of catastrophe.
I have come to judge the level of catastrophe by their ability to admit the mistake. This is something that is surprisingly hard for a good number of them. The concept is so foreign to me that I can only theorize at what is going on: Pride? Embarrassment? A fundamental belief that no matter what they are doing and no matter how many things go wrong, they were right? The fact that they will appear a little lesser in the eyes of others? All of these, I suppose.
It is not helpful of course, this inability to admit a mistake. It short circuits the learning process by not learning the actual intended lesson but continuing to maintain the previous paradigm. It never solves the underlying issue (most likely if one does not admit a mistake, the mistake will be repeated). And it does not have the intended effect on those around one: most people recognize a mistake when it has been made. For you to maintain it was not a mistake when it is quite clear that is was adds not luster to one, only the reputation of being a stubborn fool.
Mistakes happen. It is what we do with those mistakes that determines our ultimate success or failure.
I make all kinds of mistakes. I make small mistakes, like failing to close my gas cap cover after getting fuel and being "that person" driving down the freeway. I make medium mistakes, like mis-spelling error on important presentations. I make big mistakes, like asserting something and then finding out I was 180 degrees wrong. And I make supersized, Death Star-like mistakes, like completely changing careers for one that does not suit me as well at all.
I make mistakes. Yet another mistake was assuming the everyone else has the ability to make them, laugh and learn about them, and carry on.
This really surprises me. Perhaps I have become so immune to mistakes on my psyche that admitting them is no more shocking than stubbing my toe - immediate pain and a bit inconvenient, but little more. But it seems that for others - a lot of others - making mistakes is the thing of catastrophe.
I have come to judge the level of catastrophe by their ability to admit the mistake. This is something that is surprisingly hard for a good number of them. The concept is so foreign to me that I can only theorize at what is going on: Pride? Embarrassment? A fundamental belief that no matter what they are doing and no matter how many things go wrong, they were right? The fact that they will appear a little lesser in the eyes of others? All of these, I suppose.
It is not helpful of course, this inability to admit a mistake. It short circuits the learning process by not learning the actual intended lesson but continuing to maintain the previous paradigm. It never solves the underlying issue (most likely if one does not admit a mistake, the mistake will be repeated). And it does not have the intended effect on those around one: most people recognize a mistake when it has been made. For you to maintain it was not a mistake when it is quite clear that is was adds not luster to one, only the reputation of being a stubborn fool.
Mistakes happen. It is what we do with those mistakes that determines our ultimate success or failure.
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
Kumitachi
I am not very good at kumitachi.
Kumitachi, for those who do not know, are paired waza for two swordsmen in which each role, uchitachi and shitachi have defined actions which each of them execute. In a very really sense it is like a choreographed dance which in theory is supposed to look spontaneous. The primary purpose of kumitachi is teaching timing and distance, not just to teach another set of application.
And I am not very good at them.
I become frustrated. I become distracted. I hardly ever execute on them the way that I should. And this frustrates me.
Driving home last night from our most recent execution of kumitachi, I tried to think of the reason why. And it came to me that I have issues (I have no other word) with practicing against another opponent. This was a new thought for me, so I tried to dig in a little deeper to see what I came up with.
What looked back at me in the mirror was that I continue to overly worry about an accidental injury and that working with others makes feel like I risk being criticized by others.
The first issue, injury, is a long running item in my life. I know I have a tendency to be over-the-top at times, and sometimes this plays out in accidental injury (to myself or others). As a result, I tend to constantly be thinking not only of the technique but the potential for avoiding injury. A distracted swordsman is never that good.
As to the second issue, this confuses me a bit. I do not work at all with a critical group - in fact, they are as or more supportive as the group that practices Highland Athletics. Yet there is this nagging fear of my errors constantly being blatant and revealed.
The reality is that kumitachi is not going away. And I desperately need the practice because of the lessons of timing and distance (true in life as well as in iai). The problem is figuring out how to address my frustrations and fears in a way that simply allows me to practice draws, cuts and blocks.
Or as a friend said one, "You think too much. Just throw".
Kumitachi, for those who do not know, are paired waza for two swordsmen in which each role, uchitachi and shitachi have defined actions which each of them execute. In a very really sense it is like a choreographed dance which in theory is supposed to look spontaneous. The primary purpose of kumitachi is teaching timing and distance, not just to teach another set of application.
And I am not very good at them.
I become frustrated. I become distracted. I hardly ever execute on them the way that I should. And this frustrates me.
Driving home last night from our most recent execution of kumitachi, I tried to think of the reason why. And it came to me that I have issues (I have no other word) with practicing against another opponent. This was a new thought for me, so I tried to dig in a little deeper to see what I came up with.
What looked back at me in the mirror was that I continue to overly worry about an accidental injury and that working with others makes feel like I risk being criticized by others.
The first issue, injury, is a long running item in my life. I know I have a tendency to be over-the-top at times, and sometimes this plays out in accidental injury (to myself or others). As a result, I tend to constantly be thinking not only of the technique but the potential for avoiding injury. A distracted swordsman is never that good.
As to the second issue, this confuses me a bit. I do not work at all with a critical group - in fact, they are as or more supportive as the group that practices Highland Athletics. Yet there is this nagging fear of my errors constantly being blatant and revealed.
The reality is that kumitachi is not going away. And I desperately need the practice because of the lessons of timing and distance (true in life as well as in iai). The problem is figuring out how to address my frustrations and fears in a way that simply allows me to practice draws, cuts and blocks.
Or as a friend said one, "You think too much. Just throw".
Tuesday, June 09, 2015
Saved From The Big Mistake
Sometimes we are saved from a very big mistake. Sometimes this happens even in spite of ourselves.
We do not realize at the time it would be a huge mistake, of course. Life in so many ways is a thing which happens in real time and space and the ability to look into the future is denied us (interestingly, the ability to look into the past is not denied us, but few people avail themselves of the opportunity). All we know is that there is a course of action that we feel we need to take for whatever reason - but for whatever reason we do not take it.
We may be angry. We may be regretful. We may even shake our fists at God and say "Why not this path?" And then we sigh, lower our fists, and trudge on.
Until.
Until something happens, something that that brings the potential big mistake to mind. Someone that actual went through the process of the big mistake.
All of a sudden our eyes see quite clearly all the ramifications and actions that we could never see when it applied to ourselves. Whether it be pain for others, financial loss, perhaps even something more drastic or deadly to body or spirit, the ramifications of the action become clear in the life of another.
And suddenly, the almost future becomes clear for ourselves. Everything that we had not accounted for appears on the fringes of our mind and we start doing the math for the impact of what such a mistake might have cost. And then, if we are all self aware, we become quietly grateful and weak with relief.
Some people complain that God should have given us the ability to see the future. I think I now disagree. Being able to see into the future would no more prevent us from choosing the wrong paths than seeing the historical record of those who make such mistakes in the past. We believe our situation always to be different, to be special.
The actual miracle is not that we are saved from very mistakes occasionally. It is that God choses to save us from any of them at all.
We do not realize at the time it would be a huge mistake, of course. Life in so many ways is a thing which happens in real time and space and the ability to look into the future is denied us (interestingly, the ability to look into the past is not denied us, but few people avail themselves of the opportunity). All we know is that there is a course of action that we feel we need to take for whatever reason - but for whatever reason we do not take it.
We may be angry. We may be regretful. We may even shake our fists at God and say "Why not this path?" And then we sigh, lower our fists, and trudge on.
Until.
Until something happens, something that that brings the potential big mistake to mind. Someone that actual went through the process of the big mistake.
All of a sudden our eyes see quite clearly all the ramifications and actions that we could never see when it applied to ourselves. Whether it be pain for others, financial loss, perhaps even something more drastic or deadly to body or spirit, the ramifications of the action become clear in the life of another.
And suddenly, the almost future becomes clear for ourselves. Everything that we had not accounted for appears on the fringes of our mind and we start doing the math for the impact of what such a mistake might have cost. And then, if we are all self aware, we become quietly grateful and weak with relief.
Some people complain that God should have given us the ability to see the future. I think I now disagree. Being able to see into the future would no more prevent us from choosing the wrong paths than seeing the historical record of those who make such mistakes in the past. We believe our situation always to be different, to be special.
The actual miracle is not that we are saved from very mistakes occasionally. It is that God choses to save us from any of them at all.
Monday, June 08, 2015
Hard and Difficult
There is a significant difference between hard and difficult.
This difference is subtle and slight to the unknowing mind - so much so, in fact, that many people confuse one for the other. I have missed for years until it clicked for me yesterday.
"Hard" is what the simple or lazy or uneducated call something which they cannot either believe themselves to do or understand how it is done. It is an easy enough thing to say and is some ways is a generalization of all we do not believe possible: "It is hard." With these three words, many people banish themselves from the realm of being able to accomplish anything at all.
Why? Because, in our mind, if something is hard, that means it is not easy. And not easy is something that most people do not like to do. We want simple steps to improvement or success or goals. When they escape us in either conception or application, when they look they may require effort or education or time, we too often simply say "It is hard".
Difficult is what the educated and understanding call something which they do not know how to do at the moment or do not understand how it is done. They understand that the only thing standing between themselves and accomplishment is learning and practice. "Difficult" implies that there are a number of things to do or steps to take to master something, but it is not impossible. It can be learned and it can be done.
My example, the moment of clarity that brought this to light? Yesterday, throwing the caber.
Hard: Those that do not know or will not learn look at throwing the caber and thing "It is hard. It is a telephone size pole that looks long and heavy, much heavier than I can lift. And besides, the people throwing it are so much bigger and stronger than I could ever be."
Difficult: Those that will learn and want to achieve say "It is difficult. It looks long and heavy, but obviously people are doing it. They may be strong and big, but surely that is not impossible and is not the only key to succeeding." And after they look into it, they find three factors:
1) The Caber: Cabers differ at every game. They are different lengths, widths, woods and surfaces with different tapers and different size heads. Each one is unique; therefore to learn to throw one must be more than becoming expert on a single one.
2) The Condition of the Caber: Wet cabers are slick and heavy. Cracked cabers may pinch you, cabers which have not been smoothed can tear you up with the small extrusions and cabers that have not been debarked may create an odd surface to grip.
3) The Conditions: Rain makes a caber slick and heavy (and the ground muddy as well). Ground with holes make an obstacle course. Throwing downhill is better than throwing uphill. And a windy day will shift the caber as you stand and pick it (after all, you have it 15 to 20 feet in the air) and can make it very difficult to pick and pull.
Those are the factors. The actual mechanics - pick, move, pull - are the same no matter what caber.
But to those that will simply not try or learn, all this is merely hard. It is only in the willingness to learn and the motivation to succeed that we learn that they are difficult - but not impossible.
This difference is subtle and slight to the unknowing mind - so much so, in fact, that many people confuse one for the other. I have missed for years until it clicked for me yesterday.
"Hard" is what the simple or lazy or uneducated call something which they cannot either believe themselves to do or understand how it is done. It is an easy enough thing to say and is some ways is a generalization of all we do not believe possible: "It is hard." With these three words, many people banish themselves from the realm of being able to accomplish anything at all.
Why? Because, in our mind, if something is hard, that means it is not easy. And not easy is something that most people do not like to do. We want simple steps to improvement or success or goals. When they escape us in either conception or application, when they look they may require effort or education or time, we too often simply say "It is hard".
Difficult is what the educated and understanding call something which they do not know how to do at the moment or do not understand how it is done. They understand that the only thing standing between themselves and accomplishment is learning and practice. "Difficult" implies that there are a number of things to do or steps to take to master something, but it is not impossible. It can be learned and it can be done.
My example, the moment of clarity that brought this to light? Yesterday, throwing the caber.
Hard: Those that do not know or will not learn look at throwing the caber and thing "It is hard. It is a telephone size pole that looks long and heavy, much heavier than I can lift. And besides, the people throwing it are so much bigger and stronger than I could ever be."
Difficult: Those that will learn and want to achieve say "It is difficult. It looks long and heavy, but obviously people are doing it. They may be strong and big, but surely that is not impossible and is not the only key to succeeding." And after they look into it, they find three factors:
1) The Caber: Cabers differ at every game. They are different lengths, widths, woods and surfaces with different tapers and different size heads. Each one is unique; therefore to learn to throw one must be more than becoming expert on a single one.
2) The Condition of the Caber: Wet cabers are slick and heavy. Cracked cabers may pinch you, cabers which have not been smoothed can tear you up with the small extrusions and cabers that have not been debarked may create an odd surface to grip.
3) The Conditions: Rain makes a caber slick and heavy (and the ground muddy as well). Ground with holes make an obstacle course. Throwing downhill is better than throwing uphill. And a windy day will shift the caber as you stand and pick it (after all, you have it 15 to 20 feet in the air) and can make it very difficult to pick and pull.
Those are the factors. The actual mechanics - pick, move, pull - are the same no matter what caber.
But to those that will simply not try or learn, all this is merely hard. It is only in the willingness to learn and the motivation to succeed that we learn that they are difficult - but not impossible.
Friday, June 05, 2015
Input Deprivation: A Post Mortem
So now I have officially gone through a week of Input Deprivation and then a week (more or less) following it. What have I learned from this experience?
1) Just like in the old days, one can get along without social media just fine.
2) Most news just depresses you. If you do not follow it, you at least do not carry that burden.
3) When you use the opportunity of Input Deprivation to delete e-mail subscriptions, it is amazing how much less time you will spend sorting and deleting e-mail.
4) When you are spending time sorting and deleting e-mail, it is amazing how much of habit doing this had become - just like checking social media a great deal. It becomes habitual - and not in a good way.
5) The thing that you miss most is following the blogs of your choice.
That said, what did I bring back into my life?
1) Blogs - Blogs of people that I read every day. I miss following the lives and thoughts of people that have become important to me.
And what did I greatly continue to reduce in my life?
1) News aggregation sites or bulletin boards - The news I do not read is the news I do not get aggravated about.
2) Facebook. My time has been greatly reduced: a quick quote posting in the morning and maybe a look in the evening.
And what have I continued to eliminate completely?
1) Twitter - Twitter, the only non-Facebook thing I used in the regard, is gone. I suspect I will not go to the trouble of deleting my name, but I am surely not posting or following anything on it
2) Talk Radio - This is largely a commute based time filler and habit. I have not completely eliminated it yet but I am trying. I am fighting back by filling my drive time with either useful things (Like language based study) or subject based podcasts.
Will anything change?
I am not sure. Facebook would be the next logical step - or least using it the way I have used it, as an actual social outlet (I maintain that for people like us that have moved away from family and friends, it is a great way to keep them updated). The down side of that is there are a great many people I interact with largely on Facebook, so I would lose regular touch with them.
News/News Aggregation sites/Bulletin boards probably as well. I have looked at a couple perhaps twice in the last week and done surprisingly well by not doing so. Little is in the news that I can impact or effect, but following websites on thoughts and projects are actionable items that can affect my life positively.
All in all, a very worthwhile experiment. I need to work to reduce the dependence on outside impact of this nature even more.
1) Just like in the old days, one can get along without social media just fine.
2) Most news just depresses you. If you do not follow it, you at least do not carry that burden.
3) When you use the opportunity of Input Deprivation to delete e-mail subscriptions, it is amazing how much less time you will spend sorting and deleting e-mail.
4) When you are spending time sorting and deleting e-mail, it is amazing how much of habit doing this had become - just like checking social media a great deal. It becomes habitual - and not in a good way.
5) The thing that you miss most is following the blogs of your choice.
That said, what did I bring back into my life?
1) Blogs - Blogs of people that I read every day. I miss following the lives and thoughts of people that have become important to me.
And what did I greatly continue to reduce in my life?
1) News aggregation sites or bulletin boards - The news I do not read is the news I do not get aggravated about.
2) Facebook. My time has been greatly reduced: a quick quote posting in the morning and maybe a look in the evening.
And what have I continued to eliminate completely?
1) Twitter - Twitter, the only non-Facebook thing I used in the regard, is gone. I suspect I will not go to the trouble of deleting my name, but I am surely not posting or following anything on it
2) Talk Radio - This is largely a commute based time filler and habit. I have not completely eliminated it yet but I am trying. I am fighting back by filling my drive time with either useful things (Like language based study) or subject based podcasts.
Will anything change?
I am not sure. Facebook would be the next logical step - or least using it the way I have used it, as an actual social outlet (I maintain that for people like us that have moved away from family and friends, it is a great way to keep them updated). The down side of that is there are a great many people I interact with largely on Facebook, so I would lose regular touch with them.
News/News Aggregation sites/Bulletin boards probably as well. I have looked at a couple perhaps twice in the last week and done surprisingly well by not doing so. Little is in the news that I can impact or effect, but following websites on thoughts and projects are actionable items that can affect my life positively.
All in all, a very worthwhile experiment. I need to work to reduce the dependence on outside impact of this nature even more.
Thursday, June 04, 2015
Mental Toughness
I lack a certain mental toughness.
The thought came to me yesterday as I was doing my run. I have increased my overall distance this week as I signed up for an obstacle course and want to be able to run it. What I found is that running 4 miles is mentally a lot different than running 3 miles.
This does not make sense to me. After all, it is only 33% more. And I am not a hard runner, running for speed or time But from the very start of the run it just felt incredibly long, much longer than a 3 mile run would have felt. As I passed the familiar landmarks of my run all I could see was the infinite distance I had left to complete, not the fact of how far I had already come.
What it made me realize, as I listened to a broadcast on the ArtofManliness.com with Zach Even-Esh, a fitness and strength trainer (and apparently a bit of an unorthodox one) is that there is a concept of mental toughness in strength training - and all life - that I was not fully cognizant of.
As I thought about the concept, I realized that I was a least conscious of this on the level of work or activities. I am familiar with the concept of sticking out to the end or finishing what you start or completing the task even you do not what to (True Grit, as John Wayne would say: "True Grit is making a decision and standing by it, doing what must be done" - or like, a billboard says with Wayne's picture on it. "Don't like quitters much, son"). But this has always been rather an intellectual exercise for me, something that I knew existed but would find justification for why it did not apply to me: I do not want to because it does not matter, I do not want to because it reap no benefits for me.
Most critical for me, I do not want to because it will not succeed.
And this is the underlying concept of mental toughness, the fact that one can succeed. That no matter what one is trying to do failure is not an option. It is a sort of self confidence that says you can succeed in something, but it is also the self confidence to believe you can do it - that you are capable of it, even it takes longer in time or course.
You probably all know this, of course, but this is a bit of revolutionary thinking for me. Banishing the thought of not succeeding not because I am presenting excuses but because success is possible. For Me.
Old Dog, New Trick.
The thought came to me yesterday as I was doing my run. I have increased my overall distance this week as I signed up for an obstacle course and want to be able to run it. What I found is that running 4 miles is mentally a lot different than running 3 miles.
This does not make sense to me. After all, it is only 33% more. And I am not a hard runner, running for speed or time But from the very start of the run it just felt incredibly long, much longer than a 3 mile run would have felt. As I passed the familiar landmarks of my run all I could see was the infinite distance I had left to complete, not the fact of how far I had already come.
What it made me realize, as I listened to a broadcast on the ArtofManliness.com with Zach Even-Esh, a fitness and strength trainer (and apparently a bit of an unorthodox one) is that there is a concept of mental toughness in strength training - and all life - that I was not fully cognizant of.
As I thought about the concept, I realized that I was a least conscious of this on the level of work or activities. I am familiar with the concept of sticking out to the end or finishing what you start or completing the task even you do not what to (True Grit, as John Wayne would say: "True Grit is making a decision and standing by it, doing what must be done" - or like, a billboard says with Wayne's picture on it. "Don't like quitters much, son"). But this has always been rather an intellectual exercise for me, something that I knew existed but would find justification for why it did not apply to me: I do not want to because it does not matter, I do not want to because it reap no benefits for me.
Most critical for me, I do not want to because it will not succeed.
And this is the underlying concept of mental toughness, the fact that one can succeed. That no matter what one is trying to do failure is not an option. It is a sort of self confidence that says you can succeed in something, but it is also the self confidence to believe you can do it - that you are capable of it, even it takes longer in time or course.
You probably all know this, of course, but this is a bit of revolutionary thinking for me. Banishing the thought of not succeeding not because I am presenting excuses but because success is possible. For Me.
Old Dog, New Trick.
Wednesday, June 03, 2015
Dove Rescue
So last night we affected a dove rescue.
It happened around 2030, when Nighean Bhan came in from getting dropped off by a friend from dinner. "Dad" she said, "there's a bird in the road that will not move." I looked out the front window and sure enough, there was some kind of dove just sitting out on the street just to the side of the parking lot.
I got my shoes on and went out. Sure enough, there in the dying twilight was a dove, a young one - probably a white wing- just sitting there, its head cocked to one side. It let me walk right up to it. I tried to grab it but it struggled and flew off a bit; I took another grab and got it: its head was definitively turning to the left and one eye was closed. It had, I surmised, survived a predator attack or had smacked into a window head on and was disoriented.
I took into the garage and started looking for a box; while I was in there it launched for the ceiling twice but then came back down. I found a box, got some food and water, and put it out on the back porch for the night. I will open the box top tomorrow morning in the event it wants to fly but other than that will leave it to do whatever it will do.
It is kind of silly, I know. In the worst case, the bird will die tonight and I will have a burial first thing tomorrow morning. At best, the bird will recover and fly away to encounter another window or predator simply let fly on a standing car. Either way, my actions seemingly have no impact on my own life or the world at large.
But there is something there, something important at least to me. I know cannot save every living thing - if I could, I probably would. And that which is dead I can certainly not save. But there is something within me that cannot let injured animals just succumb to injuries alone, waiting to be hit by a car or eaten by a predator or die in the cold or hot just standing there. Where possible in these cases, no animal should die alone.
It will certainly never put money in my pocket or change the world. But I believe, as Scrooge's nephew said of Christmas, "It has done me good and will continue to do me good.
It happened around 2030, when Nighean Bhan came in from getting dropped off by a friend from dinner. "Dad" she said, "there's a bird in the road that will not move." I looked out the front window and sure enough, there was some kind of dove just sitting out on the street just to the side of the parking lot.
I got my shoes on and went out. Sure enough, there in the dying twilight was a dove, a young one - probably a white wing- just sitting there, its head cocked to one side. It let me walk right up to it. I tried to grab it but it struggled and flew off a bit; I took another grab and got it: its head was definitively turning to the left and one eye was closed. It had, I surmised, survived a predator attack or had smacked into a window head on and was disoriented.
I took into the garage and started looking for a box; while I was in there it launched for the ceiling twice but then came back down. I found a box, got some food and water, and put it out on the back porch for the night. I will open the box top tomorrow morning in the event it wants to fly but other than that will leave it to do whatever it will do.
It is kind of silly, I know. In the worst case, the bird will die tonight and I will have a burial first thing tomorrow morning. At best, the bird will recover and fly away to encounter another window or predator simply let fly on a standing car. Either way, my actions seemingly have no impact on my own life or the world at large.
But there is something there, something important at least to me. I know cannot save every living thing - if I could, I probably would. And that which is dead I can certainly not save. But there is something within me that cannot let injured animals just succumb to injuries alone, waiting to be hit by a car or eaten by a predator or die in the cold or hot just standing there. Where possible in these cases, no animal should die alone.
It will certainly never put money in my pocket or change the world. But I believe, as Scrooge's nephew said of Christmas, "It has done me good and will continue to do me good.
Tuesday, June 02, 2015
Professional
Steven Pressfield, in his excellent book The War of Art, talks about approaching our calling to any form of self expression or self improvement the same way that we would approach our career: show up every day, work hard, train ourselves, focus. In other words, be a professional.
It was a wonderful concept, one that I could instantly sink my mental teeth into and understand. After all, after 18 years I understand all to well the unwavering commitment to something that is hard to do. But then I started thinking: what if I approached my actual job as a professional?
I know - sounds a bit counter intuitive, does it not? But the rather strange reality is that I seem to approach my job as an amateur too often: I allow moods to influence how I work. I may be physically there, but I am not all there. Certainly I show limited interest in making myself more adept at what I do - after all (after 18 years) I do not really intend to do this forever, right? And over time, have I truly gotten better at what I am doing?
You get the idea.
But what if I approached my career with the same commitment that I have to something I really want to do - say writing, for example? What if I actually acted like a professional at my job?
I tried it yesterday. It was one of the toughest, most unrewarding things I have done for a while. Maintain focus all day. Work systematically on one thing at a time to completion. Manage tasks. Deal with people concisely and politely and then go back to the task at hand. And casting aside any sense that something is magically going to change or get better. Just keep working.
Was it the same feeling of fulfillment that I get from writing? No, not at all. Sure, I left feeling that I had moved some things forward, but there was no sense of accomplishment or a greater purpose being fulfilled.
But that is part of being professional too, I suppose: do what needs to be done knowing that actual reward or recognition beyond your contracted salary may never come. It is not your life. It is simply your profession.
It was a wonderful concept, one that I could instantly sink my mental teeth into and understand. After all, after 18 years I understand all to well the unwavering commitment to something that is hard to do. But then I started thinking: what if I approached my actual job as a professional?
I know - sounds a bit counter intuitive, does it not? But the rather strange reality is that I seem to approach my job as an amateur too often: I allow moods to influence how I work. I may be physically there, but I am not all there. Certainly I show limited interest in making myself more adept at what I do - after all (after 18 years) I do not really intend to do this forever, right? And over time, have I truly gotten better at what I am doing?
You get the idea.
But what if I approached my career with the same commitment that I have to something I really want to do - say writing, for example? What if I actually acted like a professional at my job?
I tried it yesterday. It was one of the toughest, most unrewarding things I have done for a while. Maintain focus all day. Work systematically on one thing at a time to completion. Manage tasks. Deal with people concisely and politely and then go back to the task at hand. And casting aside any sense that something is magically going to change or get better. Just keep working.
Was it the same feeling of fulfillment that I get from writing? No, not at all. Sure, I left feeling that I had moved some things forward, but there was no sense of accomplishment or a greater purpose being fulfilled.
But that is part of being professional too, I suppose: do what needs to be done knowing that actual reward or recognition beyond your contracted salary may never come. It is not your life. It is simply your profession.
Monday, June 01, 2015
Friday, May 29, 2015
On The Unsubcribing of Mail
As part of the exercise of being input deprived, I have finally organized m e-mail box
This has been a task which has been long been the bane of my existence. My e-mail box had become a dumping ground of items that I needed to save and items that I intended to get to at some point in time - I was harboring over 800 unread e-mails there. But with the deprivation of input and a growing need to make my life more streamlined finally compelled me after two years to address the issue.
I was gentle with myself, of course. No immediate wholesale throwing away of e-mails: first organization of those things I thought I needed (knowing I will probably still delete them as well), then the slow process of eliminating the rest, up to and including reaching the point of just deleting unread things I would never realistically get to.
As part of this process, I finally began to unsubscribe from e-mails in an attempt to cut down on the total input of my e-mails.
The process of unsubscribing, though, is not as straightforward as I has hoped.
There are a great deal of ways to unsubscribe. For some, it is is simply clicking the "unsubscribe" link and being redirected to a page which essentially says "done". For others, it is clicking the link to have to enter your e-mail or select a series of what you would you like to be excluded from. And for some notable sites, it is actually having to re-enter your information to be excluded in the future.
The time frame was also a surprise to me. For most, it was listed as immediate. But for a few - a few who somehow bill themselves as being interested in privacy and independence - the listing was "48-72 hours". Not at all impressive in a world of high speed technology.
What has this experience taught me?
1) There is no reason for e-mails to build up. If you are not going to deal with it today, delete it.
2) There is no particularly good reason to sign up for any recurring e-mail unless it mets a need which you feel is important. Really important. Otherwise, see item 1).
3) The policy on how to extract yourself from something should tell you a great deal of what they consider you and the value of your time to truly be.
This has been a task which has been long been the bane of my existence. My e-mail box had become a dumping ground of items that I needed to save and items that I intended to get to at some point in time - I was harboring over 800 unread e-mails there. But with the deprivation of input and a growing need to make my life more streamlined finally compelled me after two years to address the issue.
I was gentle with myself, of course. No immediate wholesale throwing away of e-mails: first organization of those things I thought I needed (knowing I will probably still delete them as well), then the slow process of eliminating the rest, up to and including reaching the point of just deleting unread things I would never realistically get to.
As part of this process, I finally began to unsubscribe from e-mails in an attempt to cut down on the total input of my e-mails.
The process of unsubscribing, though, is not as straightforward as I has hoped.
There are a great deal of ways to unsubscribe. For some, it is is simply clicking the "unsubscribe" link and being redirected to a page which essentially says "done". For others, it is clicking the link to have to enter your e-mail or select a series of what you would you like to be excluded from. And for some notable sites, it is actually having to re-enter your information to be excluded in the future.
The time frame was also a surprise to me. For most, it was listed as immediate. But for a few - a few who somehow bill themselves as being interested in privacy and independence - the listing was "48-72 hours". Not at all impressive in a world of high speed technology.
What has this experience taught me?
1) There is no reason for e-mails to build up. If you are not going to deal with it today, delete it.
2) There is no particularly good reason to sign up for any recurring e-mail unless it mets a need which you feel is important. Really important. Otherwise, see item 1).
3) The policy on how to extract yourself from something should tell you a great deal of what they consider you and the value of your time to truly be.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Input Deprivation Day Four
So the Input Deprivation has been an interesting experiment so far.
The amazing thing to me is how difficult it has been. One would not think that input would be such an annoyance to live without but it has turned out to be so. I am acutely conscious of the fact that I am not doing activities that I would usually do, be it reading other blogs, keeping informed of events, or engaging in social media.
This "emptiness" is having two effects on me. On the one hand, it is causing me to become more of an "output" machine, be the outputs only such things as thoughts or ideas. They have not yet coalesced to the point of becoming something useful but that, I think, is in the future where the exercise to continue.
The second effect is how much of a justification I am trying to make to do something to fill this void. As I mentioned, books were the one thing I left off of this list which were recommended by the author was reading. What I have discovered is almost a desperate attempt by myself to fill the time with reading - anything. I cannot really come up with a justification in my mind yet but it is something I almost do impulsively. The one thing that I may yet change is limiting that reading time to specific bounds.
But on the whole, is it good so far? I would have to answer in the affirmative. I am far more aware of my time and how I spend it than I was previously. And I certainly have a sense of space within myself, space that I am filling with things that simply do not contribute to my overall goals.
It is good. I just need to listen deeper.
The amazing thing to me is how difficult it has been. One would not think that input would be such an annoyance to live without but it has turned out to be so. I am acutely conscious of the fact that I am not doing activities that I would usually do, be it reading other blogs, keeping informed of events, or engaging in social media.
This "emptiness" is having two effects on me. On the one hand, it is causing me to become more of an "output" machine, be the outputs only such things as thoughts or ideas. They have not yet coalesced to the point of becoming something useful but that, I think, is in the future where the exercise to continue.
The second effect is how much of a justification I am trying to make to do something to fill this void. As I mentioned, books were the one thing I left off of this list which were recommended by the author was reading. What I have discovered is almost a desperate attempt by myself to fill the time with reading - anything. I cannot really come up with a justification in my mind yet but it is something I almost do impulsively. The one thing that I may yet change is limiting that reading time to specific bounds.
But on the whole, is it good so far? I would have to answer in the affirmative. I am far more aware of my time and how I spend it than I was previously. And I certainly have a sense of space within myself, space that I am filling with things that simply do not contribute to my overall goals.
It is good. I just need to listen deeper.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Not Having Control
I hate not having control.
The issue has raised its ugly head again over the last month, when I have been (somewhat patiently) waiting for responses from recruiters - the sort of thing that initially starts out as "This is a critical hire for the company and they want to move quickly" to "They are still discussing it" to radio silence. The problem, of course, is that one has no control over the speed of the decision making. I cannot make people decide more quickly - or even decide at all. One is left twisting in the wind, waiting for the notification that may never come.
As I thought about a bit more, I realized that this is actually true of large parts of my life. No matter how much I like to pretend, the actual matters I control in my life seem very small indeed: when I get up. When I go to bed. Occasionally, what I do. Other than that, little seem seems in my control.
Which makes me powerless. And the plaything or game piece of others in their own plans. Which certainly does not help me much along my own goal of moving forward.
So how do I start to reclaim power over my own life?
It (I think obviously) cannot be quickly accomplished - we have tried this before with not so good results. But there have to be parts or elements that are within my control which I am not conscious of immediately. These I need to build up on, even if it is as seemingly simple as acknowledging that I control what I eat every day (which I do) or that I can exercise in some form or fashion (which I can).
Small things, to be sure. But like with making cheese or getting quail, small things quite easily lead to big things if only we are patiently and continue to move forward. It is a continuum and journey, not only a destination.
But control is dependence. And this is something that I am seeking to get away from, not move towards.
The issue has raised its ugly head again over the last month, when I have been (somewhat patiently) waiting for responses from recruiters - the sort of thing that initially starts out as "This is a critical hire for the company and they want to move quickly" to "They are still discussing it" to radio silence. The problem, of course, is that one has no control over the speed of the decision making. I cannot make people decide more quickly - or even decide at all. One is left twisting in the wind, waiting for the notification that may never come.
As I thought about a bit more, I realized that this is actually true of large parts of my life. No matter how much I like to pretend, the actual matters I control in my life seem very small indeed: when I get up. When I go to bed. Occasionally, what I do. Other than that, little seem seems in my control.
Which makes me powerless. And the plaything or game piece of others in their own plans. Which certainly does not help me much along my own goal of moving forward.
So how do I start to reclaim power over my own life?
It (I think obviously) cannot be quickly accomplished - we have tried this before with not so good results. But there have to be parts or elements that are within my control which I am not conscious of immediately. These I need to build up on, even if it is as seemingly simple as acknowledging that I control what I eat every day (which I do) or that I can exercise in some form or fashion (which I can).
Small things, to be sure. But like with making cheese or getting quail, small things quite easily lead to big things if only we are patiently and continue to move forward. It is a continuum and journey, not only a destination.
But control is dependence. And this is something that I am seeking to get away from, not move towards.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Pickling Quails Eggs
So today I made pickled Quail eggs.
At once the easiest and most difficult thing to do. Easy because the recipe (go here for "Hot and Spicy Pickling Mix") is simple: vinegar and a bunch of spices, boiled. Hard, because you have to peel the eggs first.
Peeling quail eggs is not as easy as it might seem. For one thing, they are much smaller than chicken eggs and so harder to grasp for peeling. Second of all, they have a fairly thick membrane on the inside which makes it difficult to peel them - so difficult, in fact, that one can peel the whole shell off the egg with removing the membrane.
In the best circumstances, I was able to get under the membrane and either spiral the shell off or or simply slip the egg out from the shell. In the lesser best case, the shell came off with pieces of the egg whites. In the worst case (3 examples) the egg was so destroyed that I ate it then and there.
So twenty three eggs made it into the pickling solution for a 10 minute hot pack boil (I don't have to do that, but why not as it is so easy?). The finished result is supposed to wait two weeks for before sampling - I will wait at least a week before trying.
Another small victory achieved -more possible for a larger one as I realized that outside of the vinegar, the only additional ingredients (besides quail eggs, obviously) are spices and pepper flakes. Something that could almost completely be done at home with a little forethought and planning.
Another small step in the right direction.
Monday, May 25, 2015
A Week of Input Deprivation
By way of introduction, I direct you to this article at The Art of Manliness: 10 Overlooked Truths About Taking Action. As with most of the articles at The Art of Manliness, it is well thought and and provides a series of action steps to be taken (if you are not a reader of The Art of Manliness, you should be).
Which got me to thinking about the whole thing.
I consume information in two ways. The first way - the correct way - is when I take it in to fill a need or question - like, for example, learning about the Period of the Successor states following Alexander the Great's death last night in Dividing the Spoils by Robin Waterfield or how to raise quail or make cheese or simply do something. The purpose of this consumption is to fill a need, the sort of analogy one might find to eating when one is hungry.
The second kind of consumption - the one I have just become consciously aware of - is the sort of thing that is the equivalent of mindless eating, the consumption of information because I am bored. This is the kind of thing that works itself out in Facebook or Twitter or scanning sites breathlessly to find out what is going on in the world. It is not information designed to meet a need or better me; it is information designed to distract me or to fill my ennui or simple dislike of the situation I find myself in.
It is not healthy and it does not move me one step closer to anywhere I want to be. In fact, it seems to prove on of the comments of the author directly: "This will, first and foremost, force you into action by stripping away every activity you run to in order to avoid actually doing the work you know you should be doing."
So this week will be a modified version of the Input Deprivation Week.
Books, I cannot give up. It is my hobby and my relaxation and frankly (with my current schedule) does not consume a lot of time.
All else, for a week, is off limits.
I have a bit of work to do to prepare for this - gather my quotes for the week so that I can immediately post them and not have to look, perhaps prepare some of the others things I must do for writing - but other than that, I am retreating to a form of Solitude (or as much as I can manage in my life). For a week. Just to see.
To see what, left alone with my thoughts, I can accomplish.
In reading the article, one of the items listed by the author Kyle Eschenroeder as an action step really leaped out at me. I reproduce here in its entirety:
II. Input Deprivation Week
Go an entire week with zero information consumption.
I first tried this last year and it was wildly successful. I got more done in one week than I had in the month prior. I also ate the best I had all year and solidified my meditation practice. It was so effective I offered it up to the readers of my blog, StartupBros.
Most of the people mocked me or called me naive. A few actually tried it, though. And many of them are still practicing it to this day. It’s the most effective way I’ve found to boost output.
It’s also the most painful.
You are going to, for an entire week, live without information input.
Stay with me on this.
For one week:
- No reading books.
- No reading blogs.
- No reading newspapers.
- No going on Facebook (even just to post).
- No watching TV (shows, sports, news, anything).
- No watching movies.
- No listening to talk radio.
- No going on Reddit.
- No going on Twitter.
- No information input – only output!
You must force yourself to spend an entire week with yourself and the people immediately surrounding you.
This will, first and foremost, force you into action by stripping away every activity you run to in order to avoid actually doing the work you know you should be doing.
Besides that, it will increase mindfulness, increase the respect you have for your own ideas, you’ll have more ideas, unsolvable life problems may begin to make sense, you’ll have an increased appreciation for the news that actually matters, you’ll become more social, you’ll gain perspective, and you’ll become more original.
It sounds too good to be true but it’s not. It’s what happens. The only way for you to appreciate this is to do it.
Pretty radical stuff, especially since I am an information fiend and glut.
Which got me to thinking about the whole thing.
I consume information in two ways. The first way - the correct way - is when I take it in to fill a need or question - like, for example, learning about the Period of the Successor states following Alexander the Great's death last night in Dividing the Spoils by Robin Waterfield or how to raise quail or make cheese or simply do something. The purpose of this consumption is to fill a need, the sort of analogy one might find to eating when one is hungry.
The second kind of consumption - the one I have just become consciously aware of - is the sort of thing that is the equivalent of mindless eating, the consumption of information because I am bored. This is the kind of thing that works itself out in Facebook or Twitter or scanning sites breathlessly to find out what is going on in the world. It is not information designed to meet a need or better me; it is information designed to distract me or to fill my ennui or simple dislike of the situation I find myself in.
It is not healthy and it does not move me one step closer to anywhere I want to be. In fact, it seems to prove on of the comments of the author directly: "This will, first and foremost, force you into action by stripping away every activity you run to in order to avoid actually doing the work you know you should be doing."
So this week will be a modified version of the Input Deprivation Week.
Books, I cannot give up. It is my hobby and my relaxation and frankly (with my current schedule) does not consume a lot of time.
All else, for a week, is off limits.
I have a bit of work to do to prepare for this - gather my quotes for the week so that I can immediately post them and not have to look, perhaps prepare some of the others things I must do for writing - but other than that, I am retreating to a form of Solitude (or as much as I can manage in my life). For a week. Just to see.
To see what, left alone with my thoughts, I can accomplish.
Friday, May 22, 2015
Thursday, May 21, 2015
A Shout Out and A Free Offer
So my friend Act II is in the process of putting out an e-book and guess who got quoted? (3 guesses and the first two do not count). Pretty cool, no? I show up somewhere (no idea where yet - I have not read it either) in God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit.
Better part? They are free! If you just go here and give him your e-mail he will happily provide you one as well.
Speaking on his behalf and as his friend for more than 30 years, I can assure you that as a man of the arts (music director, composer, and writer for many years) it will be well worth your while (and did I mention it was free?).
What are you waiting for? Get yourself over and request a copy!
Better part? They are free! If you just go here and give him your e-mail he will happily provide you one as well.
Speaking on his behalf and as his friend for more than 30 years, I can assure you that as a man of the arts (music director, composer, and writer for many years) it will be well worth your while (and did I mention it was free?).
What are you waiting for? Get yourself over and request a copy!
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Less Than They Should Be
I am grappling with things being less than they should be.
This seems to be a common thread running throughout large portions of my life: things seem less than they should be. By "should be" do I mean "as promised (by something I do not know or cannot recall)" or "as expected (mostly by myself)"? The two are quite different, of course.
"As promised" indicates that some guarantee was given to me by something or someone - even if I cannot seem to recall who gave it. "Work hard and reap the benefits" for example, or "Endure and reap success". They sound really good and even to some extent may try to be true, but too often I find myself on the other end of what these seem to imply: the job that never moves forward no matter how much effort is invested, the relationship that continues to slide regardless of what is supposed to be.
"As expected" indicates that this something that I set up by myself. I chose to believe that something would result in something else, perhaps without any guarantee or facts supporting the item: the relationship that would never work no matter what I believed, the job (The Firm) that would have succeeded as presented even though I wanted it to. Call them perhaps dreams or fantasies rather than expectations, perhaps.
So how does one grapple with these? This is the problem I find myself facing. For many of these things that are less than we expect, merely getting up and leaving is not an option - it is just not something that is possible or even desirable. At the same time, living at a level of less than one expects drains one of the zest of living - day after day living at a lower level of achievement or energy eventually enervates one to the point of even wanting to try.
I wish I understood how to change this - since, after all, the only power to change things ultimately derives from myself.
This seems to be a common thread running throughout large portions of my life: things seem less than they should be. By "should be" do I mean "as promised (by something I do not know or cannot recall)" or "as expected (mostly by myself)"? The two are quite different, of course.
"As promised" indicates that some guarantee was given to me by something or someone - even if I cannot seem to recall who gave it. "Work hard and reap the benefits" for example, or "Endure and reap success". They sound really good and even to some extent may try to be true, but too often I find myself on the other end of what these seem to imply: the job that never moves forward no matter how much effort is invested, the relationship that continues to slide regardless of what is supposed to be.
"As expected" indicates that this something that I set up by myself. I chose to believe that something would result in something else, perhaps without any guarantee or facts supporting the item: the relationship that would never work no matter what I believed, the job (The Firm) that would have succeeded as presented even though I wanted it to. Call them perhaps dreams or fantasies rather than expectations, perhaps.
So how does one grapple with these? This is the problem I find myself facing. For many of these things that are less than we expect, merely getting up and leaving is not an option - it is just not something that is possible or even desirable. At the same time, living at a level of less than one expects drains one of the zest of living - day after day living at a lower level of achievement or energy eventually enervates one to the point of even wanting to try.
I wish I understood how to change this - since, after all, the only power to change things ultimately derives from myself.
Monday, May 18, 2015
Friday, May 15, 2015
Pointless
The pointless too often fills our time,steals our energy,
takes our lives.
We invest in that which we cannot avoid doing
in hopes that we can eke out a future
which very well may never arrive.
The mediocre is held as the standard,
the average as exceptional,
and status quo as a glorious thing.
Fight the pointless:
take back the energy,
take control of your life.
Make that which you are doing valuable
or do not do it at all.
Design the future instead of waiting for it to come.
Ignore the standard:
Only the mediocre worship mere effort over achievement,
and glorify the pointless.
takes our lives.
We invest in that which we cannot avoid doing
in hopes that we can eke out a future
which very well may never arrive.
The mediocre is held as the standard,
the average as exceptional,
and status quo as a glorious thing.
Fight the pointless:
take back the energy,
take control of your life.
Make that which you are doing valuable
or do not do it at all.
Design the future instead of waiting for it to come.
Ignore the standard:
Only the mediocre worship mere effort over achievement,
and glorify the pointless.
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
A Little Country Road
When I can, I take a little country road back towards my house.
Where we live in New Home is a combination of built out areas and original native landscape. This particular road, which moves along the side of a light industrial buildout is, one of those areas. To the left on this little one lane road are concrete blocks and parking lots while to the right and North are overgrown pastures and fields.
I like to drive it in the dark because the local wildlife is out. I have seen possums and a skunk and baby bunnies scarcely larger than my hand. One time, a buck right at the road line, almost ready to hop out and into my car.
When I get to the top of the initial straightaway and make the right turn, I briefly find myself moving back through time to when there was nothing but cattle ranches and small acreages here. One cannot see the city or the suburbs or the freeway that dominates the part of the city. One can just see the trees overhanging the road and the grasses on the side that wend there way through the sagging rusty barbed wire fences.
Another turn North and I already find myself back in the 21st Century with the water structure looming on the horizon overlooking everything; another turn East and I face the Freeway that dominates my drive five days a week, sodium lights flickering as I see the bar at the corner peering out at me from the other side of the freeway.
I am always glad to drive this way home whenever I can, and worry that at some point it will disappear, being sucked up into yet another housing development or industrial thing that simply does not need to happen. It saddens me because it will mean that those that come after will never get a sense of what the landscape used to look like before everyone came, and what wildlife was here on a daily basis.
It saddens me because a little more of the beauty around us will be stripped away and never return.
Where we live in New Home is a combination of built out areas and original native landscape. This particular road, which moves along the side of a light industrial buildout is, one of those areas. To the left on this little one lane road are concrete blocks and parking lots while to the right and North are overgrown pastures and fields.
I like to drive it in the dark because the local wildlife is out. I have seen possums and a skunk and baby bunnies scarcely larger than my hand. One time, a buck right at the road line, almost ready to hop out and into my car.
When I get to the top of the initial straightaway and make the right turn, I briefly find myself moving back through time to when there was nothing but cattle ranches and small acreages here. One cannot see the city or the suburbs or the freeway that dominates the part of the city. One can just see the trees overhanging the road and the grasses on the side that wend there way through the sagging rusty barbed wire fences.
Another turn North and I already find myself back in the 21st Century with the water structure looming on the horizon overlooking everything; another turn East and I face the Freeway that dominates my drive five days a week, sodium lights flickering as I see the bar at the corner peering out at me from the other side of the freeway.
I am always glad to drive this way home whenever I can, and worry that at some point it will disappear, being sucked up into yet another housing development or industrial thing that simply does not need to happen. It saddens me because it will mean that those that come after will never get a sense of what the landscape used to look like before everyone came, and what wildlife was here on a daily basis.
It saddens me because a little more of the beauty around us will be stripped away and never return.
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
2001: A Posting Odyssey
So this is my 2001st post.
To be honest, I never anticipated making it this far. That seems like a really large number, when I sit and think about it - true, it is spread out over 10 years (well, really 8 if you count the years that I have been seriously blogging) but it still seems remarkable to me.
Part of the fact of remarkableness is the fact that I have found something to write about 2000 times. They are probably not always interesting, I will grant you. Sometimes I go back and am shocked by the words that leap from the page - I certainly did not write those profound thoughts! Other times, I go back and simply shake my head at the fact that I posted that particular thing at all.
A large thank you goes to you all as well, the inhabitants of The FortyFive universe. Some of you I have known for a very long time indeed; others I have met through this blog and your blogs that you have shared with me. I appreciate you spending your precious time here for a few minutes every so often: the man that writes for no readers is nothing more than a note jotter. My humble and sincere thanks.
What is up for the next 2000? More of the same, I suspect. Waves come and go and I find myself with different interests and issues. The process of writing these entries helps ground me every day, even if it is only for a little while. It has become a ritual, without which the day does not feel right.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you for your support.
To be honest, I never anticipated making it this far. That seems like a really large number, when I sit and think about it - true, it is spread out over 10 years (well, really 8 if you count the years that I have been seriously blogging) but it still seems remarkable to me.
Part of the fact of remarkableness is the fact that I have found something to write about 2000 times. They are probably not always interesting, I will grant you. Sometimes I go back and am shocked by the words that leap from the page - I certainly did not write those profound thoughts! Other times, I go back and simply shake my head at the fact that I posted that particular thing at all.
A large thank you goes to you all as well, the inhabitants of The FortyFive universe. Some of you I have known for a very long time indeed; others I have met through this blog and your blogs that you have shared with me. I appreciate you spending your precious time here for a few minutes every so often: the man that writes for no readers is nothing more than a note jotter. My humble and sincere thanks.
What is up for the next 2000? More of the same, I suspect. Waves come and go and I find myself with different interests and issues. The process of writing these entries helps ground me every day, even if it is only for a little while. It has become a ritual, without which the day does not feel right.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you for your support.
Monday, May 11, 2015
Requests That Cannot Be Met
There is nothing more dispiriting than a request that cannot be met.
Usually when such things are revealed they are at precisely the wrong moment: the job goal that will never be achieved no matter how hard you try, the relationship input that can never be fulfilled no matter what you do, the thing which you thought was happily and completely being provided but which in fact was apparently not. It is at these moments that it feels like the bottom has fallen out of your world.
Why? Because the sudden realization hits you that these things simply cannot be fulfilled. It is not an issue of trying or even doing more. It is the simple fact that it feels like no matter how much you do or try to do, they are simply forever out of reach.
How do you come to terms with such requests? The initial reaction is to blame one's self - but I am not sure this is the best way to view it. Comparing ourselves to that which we feel we will never achieve is always guaranteed to ensure that we will feel powerless. Perhaps a better question is "Is this a legitimate request?"
Here is the truth that we often fail to grasp, both for ourselves and for those making the requests: they are not all legitimate. Sometimes they are things that are simply impossible, sometimes they are things that based on how they are phrased can not be achieved but if adjusted could be achieved. the important fact is to grasp is a request which is not realistic or possible is like a request which constantly changes such that we can never meet it: in either instance, we are being set up to fail.
We cannot the burden of all possibilities on our shoulders. And we cannot achieve that which was never achievable.
Usually when such things are revealed they are at precisely the wrong moment: the job goal that will never be achieved no matter how hard you try, the relationship input that can never be fulfilled no matter what you do, the thing which you thought was happily and completely being provided but which in fact was apparently not. It is at these moments that it feels like the bottom has fallen out of your world.
Why? Because the sudden realization hits you that these things simply cannot be fulfilled. It is not an issue of trying or even doing more. It is the simple fact that it feels like no matter how much you do or try to do, they are simply forever out of reach.
How do you come to terms with such requests? The initial reaction is to blame one's self - but I am not sure this is the best way to view it. Comparing ourselves to that which we feel we will never achieve is always guaranteed to ensure that we will feel powerless. Perhaps a better question is "Is this a legitimate request?"
Here is the truth that we often fail to grasp, both for ourselves and for those making the requests: they are not all legitimate. Sometimes they are things that are simply impossible, sometimes they are things that based on how they are phrased can not be achieved but if adjusted could be achieved. the important fact is to grasp is a request which is not realistic or possible is like a request which constantly changes such that we can never meet it: in either instance, we are being set up to fail.
We cannot the burden of all possibilities on our shoulders. And we cannot achieve that which was never achievable.
Friday, May 08, 2015
Out Of My Depth
Yesterday evening I met a former coworker for dinner. It was late and dark and I had never been to really anywhere around here, so they made a suggestion for something near the beach.
The restaurant, when we arrived, was one of the very well interiored buildings of the sort that I seldom if ever frequent: shiny marble floors, a long art wall of white tile resembling waves, tables with white linen and full settings and two kinds of glasses. The wait staff was quite nicely dressed with those nice towels that are folded at the belt for service. The windows themselves looked onto the dark beach and the ocean.
The menu, when it came, was the sort which has not more than 30 items on it - some that are standing orders, some that were not specials. Elegant food, the sort that I read about but seldom experience: things involving beets and brussel spouts and ahi tuna and cuts of steak I have had once in my life if at all.
I was clearly out of my depth.
My former coworker clearly was in her depth. Ordered her food, made sure everything got to us, was pleasant when the owner of the restaurant came of and said hi and graciously accepted a gift of dessert. Elegant, well spoken, poised.
I sat and ate my crab, dressed my jeans and "Let us go throw Heavy Things" T-shirt.
It strikes me as odd because I find myself in a paradox: on the one hand this life beckons to me: life in a city, near the beach, eating fine things in nice settings and always elegantly poised to carry on conversations and (frankly) be a beautiful person - on the other side, the reality of telling myself - convincing myself? - that such things are irrelevant and not at all what I want or where I want to be in my life.
I do not know if I can ever resolve this. I do not know if I want to resolve this - in many ways this was a once-in-a-blue-moon event, the sort which seldom comes my way and as such not a serious consideration. Not serious, of course, except that it is something I could achieve if I truly valued it. And I am not sure at times which of these is truly me.
The crab, however, was excellent.
The restaurant, when we arrived, was one of the very well interiored buildings of the sort that I seldom if ever frequent: shiny marble floors, a long art wall of white tile resembling waves, tables with white linen and full settings and two kinds of glasses. The wait staff was quite nicely dressed with those nice towels that are folded at the belt for service. The windows themselves looked onto the dark beach and the ocean.
The menu, when it came, was the sort which has not more than 30 items on it - some that are standing orders, some that were not specials. Elegant food, the sort that I read about but seldom experience: things involving beets and brussel spouts and ahi tuna and cuts of steak I have had once in my life if at all.
I was clearly out of my depth.
My former coworker clearly was in her depth. Ordered her food, made sure everything got to us, was pleasant when the owner of the restaurant came of and said hi and graciously accepted a gift of dessert. Elegant, well spoken, poised.
I sat and ate my crab, dressed my jeans and "Let us go throw Heavy Things" T-shirt.
It strikes me as odd because I find myself in a paradox: on the one hand this life beckons to me: life in a city, near the beach, eating fine things in nice settings and always elegantly poised to carry on conversations and (frankly) be a beautiful person - on the other side, the reality of telling myself - convincing myself? - that such things are irrelevant and not at all what I want or where I want to be in my life.
I do not know if I can ever resolve this. I do not know if I want to resolve this - in many ways this was a once-in-a-blue-moon event, the sort which seldom comes my way and as such not a serious consideration. Not serious, of course, except that it is something I could achieve if I truly valued it. And I am not sure at times which of these is truly me.
The crab, however, was excellent.
Thursday, May 07, 2015
Possibilities and Actualities
So one of the nicer things about my job - probably about any job - is when you see possibilities.
This happens sometimes - oddly enough, when you are outside of your normal work environment. It is at these times that we see what the possibilities of our career field might be. I am not sure what triggers it - perhaps it is the fact that we are around others who in our field, perhaps it is because we are learning new things that we can apply, perhaps it is because simply are out of the grunge and daily tasks which make up most of our day. It is at these moments that we can grasp what is possible in our field, what can be achieved, perhaps even what real accomplishment looks like.
What the possibilities are.
And then we come back to our actual work lives. Back to the grunge and pettiness and politics and mindless daily drivel of our jobs. The things we hate. The behaviors that drive us batty. The terrible ways in which we do not aim for greatness every day but instead for mediocrity - or perhaps it is better defined as sanity in an insane environment. The possibilities of what could be slip away from us faster than we wish, leaving us with perhaps one or two sparks in an otherwise completely dark and desolate sky that once was full of stars.
What the actualities are.
How does one bridge the gap between possibilities and actualities? Or perhaps more accurately, how does one cling to the possibilities long enough to move them into the realm of actualities? Is it is as simple as merely holding on? Or is it, as I suspect, accepting that the actualities of one's current situation will simply not allow the possibilities to exist.
In which case, the situation must be changed. Or corrected.
This happens sometimes - oddly enough, when you are outside of your normal work environment. It is at these times that we see what the possibilities of our career field might be. I am not sure what triggers it - perhaps it is the fact that we are around others who in our field, perhaps it is because we are learning new things that we can apply, perhaps it is because simply are out of the grunge and daily tasks which make up most of our day. It is at these moments that we can grasp what is possible in our field, what can be achieved, perhaps even what real accomplishment looks like.
What the possibilities are.
And then we come back to our actual work lives. Back to the grunge and pettiness and politics and mindless daily drivel of our jobs. The things we hate. The behaviors that drive us batty. The terrible ways in which we do not aim for greatness every day but instead for mediocrity - or perhaps it is better defined as sanity in an insane environment. The possibilities of what could be slip away from us faster than we wish, leaving us with perhaps one or two sparks in an otherwise completely dark and desolate sky that once was full of stars.
What the actualities are.
How does one bridge the gap between possibilities and actualities? Or perhaps more accurately, how does one cling to the possibilities long enough to move them into the realm of actualities? Is it is as simple as merely holding on? Or is it, as I suspect, accepting that the actualities of one's current situation will simply not allow the possibilities to exist.
In which case, the situation must be changed. Or corrected.
Wednesday, May 06, 2015
Cinco De Mayo Urbano
So tonight, in a paroxysm of not wanting to spend the evening trapped in a hotel, I took a walk to the local old town with a Mexican heritage. On Cinco de Mayo, no less.
It was, as you can imagine, something of a small riot. Lines in front of every Mexican restaurant (and I would wager there were at least 20 of them), loud music blaring, people waiting in lines - talking on their cell phones, smoking, making their way through the crowds. Hostesses trying to check for random number groups or advising clients that there was no waiting for the beer garden. A bevy of people, trying to get into somewhere and get some food that is available 360+ other days of the year (or for many of the younger ones, more likely alcohol).
It kind of makes me sad on two counts. One, of course, is simply being in this sea of humanity. From the point of view of a people watcher, this might be a fine show. From the point of view of someone who is largely an introvert (and even more so where I do not know anyone at all), perhaps not so much of a marvel.
The second sadness is simply that which I experience almost every time that I spend significant time in an urban center. The crowds. The noise. The just general insanity of large groups of people living where they essentially have to bring everything in from somewhere else.
I know what you are going say - "Do you not live in an urban setting too?" I do - and I am not all that happy about it (that is also on the record). The difference in my mind is that I do not embrace it as the totality of my existence. I actively want to be somewhere else and I understand all too very well how much I am dependent on so many things that are controlled by others.
I eventually found a place to eat (Fish and chips) and crawled my way back through the crowds. As I made my way back the sound of the celebration and urban chaos dwindled to the sounds of the freeway with cars whizzing by.
It strikes me as odd that somehow that I would consider that an actual improvement.
It was, as you can imagine, something of a small riot. Lines in front of every Mexican restaurant (and I would wager there were at least 20 of them), loud music blaring, people waiting in lines - talking on their cell phones, smoking, making their way through the crowds. Hostesses trying to check for random number groups or advising clients that there was no waiting for the beer garden. A bevy of people, trying to get into somewhere and get some food that is available 360+ other days of the year (or for many of the younger ones, more likely alcohol).
It kind of makes me sad on two counts. One, of course, is simply being in this sea of humanity. From the point of view of a people watcher, this might be a fine show. From the point of view of someone who is largely an introvert (and even more so where I do not know anyone at all), perhaps not so much of a marvel.
The second sadness is simply that which I experience almost every time that I spend significant time in an urban center. The crowds. The noise. The just general insanity of large groups of people living where they essentially have to bring everything in from somewhere else.
I know what you are going say - "Do you not live in an urban setting too?" I do - and I am not all that happy about it (that is also on the record). The difference in my mind is that I do not embrace it as the totality of my existence. I actively want to be somewhere else and I understand all too very well how much I am dependent on so many things that are controlled by others.
I eventually found a place to eat (Fish and chips) and crawled my way back through the crowds. As I made my way back the sound of the celebration and urban chaos dwindled to the sounds of the freeway with cars whizzing by.
It strikes me as odd that somehow that I would consider that an actual improvement.
Tuesday, May 05, 2015
Monday, May 04, 2015
On The Road Again
So today I journey out again, this time set for the Pacific Coast. Hopefully my last work related trip of the year.
I have said it before - I really do not prefer to travel as much. Sure, I like to go to The Ranch or to travel specifically to see family or friends or even to go to see something truly remarkable (a foreign country comes to mind) but traveling for the sake of traveling or especially business I find increasingly wearying.
Why? Certainly not because of the expense - that's all covered. It is the time - time away from here, time away from family, time away from my animals and my garden that need my time and energy far more than wherever I am traveling to. Every day gone is a day that is something is not being planted or cared for or loved. Iaijutsu is not being practiced (really - I do try to do open hand but it is never quite the same), throws are not being done (hotel weight rooms are never the same). My life goes on hold - other than the ability to catch up on my reading, which I do enjoy (and seldom get to do).
It is for a good cause, of course - training - and will hopefully result in something beneficial career-wise down the road. Still, the potential good outcomes (at least in my mind) outweigh the fact that I simply will not be where I belong.
Home is where the heart is - or in my case, home is where my life is.
I have said it before - I really do not prefer to travel as much. Sure, I like to go to The Ranch or to travel specifically to see family or friends or even to go to see something truly remarkable (a foreign country comes to mind) but traveling for the sake of traveling or especially business I find increasingly wearying.
Why? Certainly not because of the expense - that's all covered. It is the time - time away from here, time away from family, time away from my animals and my garden that need my time and energy far more than wherever I am traveling to. Every day gone is a day that is something is not being planted or cared for or loved. Iaijutsu is not being practiced (really - I do try to do open hand but it is never quite the same), throws are not being done (hotel weight rooms are never the same). My life goes on hold - other than the ability to catch up on my reading, which I do enjoy (and seldom get to do).
It is for a good cause, of course - training - and will hopefully result in something beneficial career-wise down the road. Still, the potential good outcomes (at least in my mind) outweigh the fact that I simply will not be where I belong.
Home is where the heart is - or in my case, home is where my life is.
Friday, May 01, 2015
What I Learned From A Week of Input Deprivation
- Truth be told, you are no less well informed by not following electronic information than you were by not following printed media and the television back in the day..
- Most of the e-mails you receive are actually accretions of things you investigated or applied for at one time. It is amazing how empty your inbox will become when you unsubscribe from all of them.
- As a corollary, you will find the urge to continually check your e-mail (now that you are receiving much less of it) a hard thing to stop. It can be done, but you will surprised how much of a habit it has become.
- Most social media actually has no impact on your day to day life.
- With a decrease in social media and news, you will find that your aggravations tend to stem directly from people or things you interact with, not that you read about. This is a step in the right direction.
- This thing called "Free Time" may start to appear once you have cut off the constant searching of information to fill the void. Do not be afraid. This is normal.
- As a corollary, this time is not free. It is ready to be re-invested in things that can really impact or change your life.
- You are probably not doing enough of the really important things in life on a daily basis.
- On the whole, a certain level of input deprivation should become a normal part of our lifestyle. Just because something is available does not mean we should constantly avail ourselves of it.
- Most of the e-mails you receive are actually accretions of things you investigated or applied for at one time. It is amazing how empty your inbox will become when you unsubscribe from all of them.
- As a corollary, you will find the urge to continually check your e-mail (now that you are receiving much less of it) a hard thing to stop. It can be done, but you will surprised how much of a habit it has become.
- Most social media actually has no impact on your day to day life.
- With a decrease in social media and news, you will find that your aggravations tend to stem directly from people or things you interact with, not that you read about. This is a step in the right direction.
- This thing called "Free Time" may start to appear once you have cut off the constant searching of information to fill the void. Do not be afraid. This is normal.
- As a corollary, this time is not free. It is ready to be re-invested in things that can really impact or change your life.
- You are probably not doing enough of the really important things in life on a daily basis.
- On the whole, a certain level of input deprivation should become a normal part of our lifestyle. Just because something is available does not mean we should constantly avail ourselves of it.
On A Time of Choosing and Grieving
A time for choosing sides seems fast approaching. This grieves me.
Gone - or rapidly dwindling - are the days when one could have a set of opinions or beliefs and have others that have different sets of beliefs or opinions and still get along, mostly because while you knew that each of you had the differences - and perhaps sometimes you would discuss them - there was an underlying respect of the other person and the allowance for them to have that different set of opinions or beliefs.
But that is an another time, rapidly dwindling in the distance as a city dwindles in the desert plains until it suddenly disappears as a blot in the distance.
You know my rule - no politics, only my own religious struggles. Yet I find myself remaining increasingly silent and increasingly uneasy as the tone of conversation changes. Ideological purity become more valued than the value of relationship; plurality of opinions means not some much a true plurality but rather a subset of views which are deemed to be acceptable.
It grieves me. It grieves me for the friends that will eventually disappear, for the relationships that will disappear into the wind, for the sadness and unrest that it will bring - perhaps not socially but in the souls of ourselves and others.
It grieves me but I can see it coming, like one can feel the Cold Fronts of New Home moving in, bringing the rain and wind with them - it is never a question of if, but when.
I am a man of peace, of quiet thought and civility and a retiring nature. What looms before me - indeed, before us - makes me inexplicable sad to the promise of tears.
One hesitates to call anything the End, but the strident march of discord cries louder and louder, drowning out the subtle tones that weave a society together.
I grieve.
Gone - or rapidly dwindling - are the days when one could have a set of opinions or beliefs and have others that have different sets of beliefs or opinions and still get along, mostly because while you knew that each of you had the differences - and perhaps sometimes you would discuss them - there was an underlying respect of the other person and the allowance for them to have that different set of opinions or beliefs.
But that is an another time, rapidly dwindling in the distance as a city dwindles in the desert plains until it suddenly disappears as a blot in the distance.
You know my rule - no politics, only my own religious struggles. Yet I find myself remaining increasingly silent and increasingly uneasy as the tone of conversation changes. Ideological purity become more valued than the value of relationship; plurality of opinions means not some much a true plurality but rather a subset of views which are deemed to be acceptable.
It grieves me. It grieves me for the friends that will eventually disappear, for the relationships that will disappear into the wind, for the sadness and unrest that it will bring - perhaps not socially but in the souls of ourselves and others.
It grieves me but I can see it coming, like one can feel the Cold Fronts of New Home moving in, bringing the rain and wind with them - it is never a question of if, but when.
I am a man of peace, of quiet thought and civility and a retiring nature. What looms before me - indeed, before us - makes me inexplicable sad to the promise of tears.
One hesitates to call anything the End, but the strident march of discord cries louder and louder, drowning out the subtle tones that weave a society together.
I grieve.
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