Stream -- It Finally Feels like Fall...

Note: This is a stream of consciousness piece written in one session and printed with minimal revisions.

It finally feels like Fall when the sun, lower in the sky, shines in my eyes. The sun's rays are on my window throughout the day. At this time of year, I get the best of both worlds from that light.

It is bright in my eyes around midday. It narrows my vision. It has a tunneling effect on my focus. Everything around the light, on the periphery, darkens and blurs. All that is left is me and the light, the light and I. As I learn how to confront it properly, the other little things are a little more visible. I can see the shapes of the leaves and branches through which the light shines. This is an intense feeling which is also sparse. By that, I mean that everything is centered around the one entity of light, even when I try to see other things.

Now, the sun prepares to set. The intensity I felt before is gone, replaced by a softer light. The light is in such a place that it no longer shines through the leaves and branches. Instead, it shines on them and reflects off of them. It affects my vision, once again, but in a different way. Not only is the light softer, it is also warmer, in color and feel. I feel more contemplative in this light. I see more colors and think about more things.

The absence of light provides another perspective. The sun goes down faster in Fall. When it does, I have time to consider it as a whole. Light is active and moving, dynamic and present, during the day. It has a body, in a way, and that is really what I interact with each moment I see it. At night, I'm interacting with an idea, the soul of the light. Light loses its appearance but never its essence. This allows me to consider the whole.

On the next day, the process begins again. I feel as if the Fall gives me a continual set of chances to realize my current place. This is the time to take stock and acknowledge the need to renew certain things, and change others. Then I'm able to look back on the previous year with nostalgia as well as prepare for the coming one.

Fit In, Standout!

Everybody is somebody. Nobody is nobody.
-- Taj Mahal

I was listening to a greatest hits album of Taj Mahal's and this line from his song, called "Everybody Is Somebody," got me thinking. This statement is true whether a person makes use of what it means or not. Being somebody is based on potential. We all have this ability inside even though many people choose, or are encouraged, not to achieve Somebody status. It's all about individuality.

Psychologically, we tend towards classifying things. Because of the way we fit into nature, physically, it is advantageous to do so. We need to be able to quickly and instinctually identify everything we encounter. Where is danger... where is safety... what hurts... what feels good... who can I trust... who is a threat... how does this work? We do this by classifying. In this way, no, each special snowflake is not unique. Making those snap decisions is integral for survival, but it's not too hot when it comes to interpersonal relationships, on whatever scale they occur.

People are much more complex than the systems that make up their bodies. There are often huge differences between two seemingly similar individuals, and there are always slight variations. Even small genetic or environmental factors can drastically affect a person's development. And every person has had all manner of experiences that could show the reasons behind their choices. The interesting thing is that the ways in which everybody is similar help to explain why appreciating their individuality is so important. The key way is that each person possesses free will. Excluding obvious exceptions, everyone chooses freely what they believe and what they do. Yes, there are genetic traits and environmental stresses and encouragement or discouragement from other people. In the end, however, those are merely explanations for why a choice is made. They are not determinants.

It's easier to go with the natural tendency, simplify things, and classify individuals into groups. Indeed, it's so easy that a vast number of people live their lives doing just that. I just did it, myself! The problem is that it leads to a group mentality, both inwardly and outwardly. Ironically, if we stop appreciating our differences on a personal level and de-emphasize the individual, we end up promoting groupthink within and group judgment without. The focus, socially, then becomes our communal differences which tend to be more divisive and inflammatory.

Another bit of irony, here, comes when our society takes individuality to its unhealthy extreme: exalting celebrity. When I write of this, I don't mean the typical People Magazine "What's My Favorite Actor Up To?" articles that women love (there's some more classifying for you). Exalting celebrity means first poring over the minutia of the life of a famous person. It's the worst kind of vicarious living. Then, it means placing an undeserved importance on the words and deeds of all famous people. There is a clear distinction to be made between appreciating the qualities of an individual and placing them on a pedestal. Exalting celebrity is as bad, or worse, than a group mentality because it says essentially that nobody is somebody except for a select, illogical few.

There is clearly a happy medium between groupthink and undue individual glorification. I know I have to catch myself occasionally and remember that the people I see and hear are their own people, when it comes down to it. There are several portions of society today that could also stand to do that, inwardly and outwardly. I also realize that emphasizing individuality has its own drawbacks. It's always important to check that ego upstairs. I don't think I have all the answers, but I do believe that it's a good start to stop viewing identity based on how a person looks or where their ancestors lived. Each individual I know has a lot more in common with me than either of us does with our ancestors. Of course, many people already know this, but you know what they say about assumptions.

Update

Things are looking up. My health has been coming along, and I continue to grow in my confidence in the healing process. It seems that all the measures I've taken are doing a job. And, I'm quite sure that I've gotten enough inspiration for my writing from the medical world for the time being, although apparently it's the medical world's decision as to when it will stop inspiring me.

The most personal thing I'll tell you is also the best news of this blog entry. I now have 11 days without doctors! I'm hoping to really treat this like a vacation. Obviously, I plan to live it up like my plane is going down.

The USC Trojans almost had to do that as well. They had a bumpy start to the big weekend. I'm really excited for this year's installment of one of the very best rivalries in all of sports. Experts always say you can throw out the records when USC and Notre Dame compete against each other. I think that's true, so I'm excited for a great game.

If you've been following the college football season, you'll know that the Trojans have had some trouble as of late. I'm hoping that the importance of this week will get them firing on all cylinders and that they come out firing. The only thing I will predict is a big game from Joe "Cool" McKnight.

Until next time... Fight On! Beat the Irish!

Song Series: "Prayer for the Dying" by Seal

This is one of my favorite songs by Seal and simply just one of my favorite songs. It is right down my alley as far as the theme and spirit the song conveys. You could argue that the reason I like it so much is because it is so similar to my worldview, however I like to think that this is one of those songs in particular that have informed on my worldview. Seal, himself, has called "Prayer for the Dying" a celebration of life more than a mourning of death. The song can be found on Seal's self-titled 1994 album. I first heard it in 1996 and I still love it to this day.

This song is quite philosophical. In the first few lines, it immediately identifies the problem it is confronting and, almost as quickly, provides the solution to that problem. First is the issue of the problem of life. "Fearless people/Careless needle/Harsh words spoken/And lives are broken." Working backwards, it is clear that coping with brokenness (sound familiar?) is certainly a struggle. Seal attributes that to a breakdown in personal relationships. He often uses the imagery of a needle & drugs as a symbol for the high we get from love. The seemingly odd inclusion of "fearless" leads me to believe that there is a suggestion that misplaced emotion leads to the breakdown in personal relationships which makes coping with brokenness such a struggle.

Then, Seal arrives at a solution. The most important theme in this song is faith. "Forceful aging/Help me I'm fading/Heaven's waiting/It's time to move on." The first half of this quote says, essentially, that there is no time to lose. The problem can be fixed, and every person can fix it, but they need to start immediately. Next is one of the deeper, multiple-meaning points in the song. First, the listener is reassured in the expected way: move on, don't be afraid, Heaven will be there. There's more to it, however, as you consider that because heaven is waiting, that means it is not here now. That solution is up to us. Life is not waiting, and therefore it's time to move on, literally move, now. The motivation is obvious as is the need for faith in yourself, the last piece is faith in others.

"I may not know what you're going through/But time is the space between me and you." Despite the undercurrent of urgency present, this is another reassuring line. This line is the solution to having faith in others. Essentially, the only external thing that really separates two people is ignorance, and ignorance is removed quite simply by taking the time to remove it. Everything else involved in having faith in other people is literally within the control of the individual.

"I just don't know what's got into me." This is the second most important quote of the song, and the key is in the word, "know." Seal does not, and cannot, know what's got into him but he believes something has. He feels it. This is spirit, that thing which moves him toward faith. And just in case the idea of faith hasn't yet dawned on the listener, he hits you several times with this line: "Hold on, say yes, while people say no."

Now, the most important line: "Life carries on... when nothing else matters, when nothing else matters." To me personally, this quote is extraordinary and would probably require my whole life story and philosophy written down and analyzed for me to convey the extent of the quote's meaning. However, a very superficial interpretation is that when you have everything, life carries on, and yet when you have nothing, life still carries on. So, life is moved by nothing but itself. When everything falls away, if you're lost or suffering, you are still left with your life, and it carries on. Faith says that this should be a comfort. Finally, Seal ends the song with one last thought. "It's just a prayer for the dying... for the dying." This takes us back to the solution of the problem stated at the beginning. The dying refers to us all as, after all, life carries on until it's over. And that's a beautiful thing.

Unfortunately, the demands of radio edits and music videos means that the most important line of the song is not included, but here is the video nonetheless:

Decisions Decisions

I have a hard time making decisions. Then again, I don't. I struggled with deciding how to go about this very blog entry. I know that, currently, I'm very confident in myself, and when I'm certain instinctively that I'm making the right choice, I feel as if I almost made the choice before I even knew about it. So, it really isn't about the decision itself. The problem is that I'm so analytical. I consider that a strength, and I'm proud of it, and I think it's a huge contributor to my work. However, it makes decision-making difficult at times. I go about it by collecting pieces of information about the various potential choices until one of them tips the scales. That way, I feel like I can't not make that choice. But then I start analyzing the analysis and I end up not being able to decide if that particular piece of information does, in fact, tip the scales.

Dilemmas are easy for me. A dilemma is a choice between two outcomes, neither of which will be very positive for the chooser. Ultimately, one choice is slightly less bad, or less painful, or has a greater potential for "going down in a blaze of glory" and it presents itself quite quickly if I can quiet my mind long enough. The choice between two good outcomes is considerably more difficult. I always end up wanting to try out both of them, even if that consists of going with Door #1 for five seconds and then changing my mind to Door #2. I'll always wonder, though, if I'm having as good a time as I could have. The real decisions, of course, are the toughest.

I'm confident enough in myself today to know that I can make snap decisions if I'm pressed. And maybe it makes me a better decision-maker to be able to see all sides and to know that the choice I'm making is difficult. Would it be worse to make a grave decision quickly without knowing its gravity?

This is where being so self-analytical comes in handy. I'm always thinking about my position in life: where I came from, where I am, and where I'm going. After I collect all the information and mentally play out the scenarios in my head, I ask myself one, last important question. Will I be better, worse, or the same if I do this? I do it if the answer is better, I don't if the answer is worse, and if the answer is the same, I ask one, last not-so-important question.

Will this be a pain in the ass or not?

The Trojan

Sports and in particular college football, with the pageantry and tradition everyone has grown accustomed to, often serve as a reminder of a time long ago, the time of gladiators. However, the beauty of college football is that it also relates to the modern struggles of everyday life. The ideals that allow an athlete to excel in competition, to meet challenges head-on, and to be the very best, are alive in all of us. They center around the virtue of achieving success the right way, and doing it the right way is the most important part. Success without adversity is not success at all. And so, we uncover a key to football excellence which just so happens to be a key to living life: adversity must be overcome.

There is a team that has drawn many admirers due to that very ability, the ability to overcome adversity. In fact, the team was so named many decades ago because of that ability. The team represents a family and an institution centered around a university that I, personally, was drawn to for my undergraduate education. This team is represented by a figure himself defined by five qualities: faithful, scholarly, skillful, courageous, and ambitious. He is The Trojan. He represents the Men of Troy, who wear the colors and play each week for the University of Southern California. It may seem odd that I choose this week to write about this team but, in my mind, it is entirely appropriate.

Faithful. Everything begins with faith, and that starts with faith in yourself. You wouldn't be where you are today if you didn't believe in your ability and way of doing things. No matter where you intend to go, you can't get there without faith in others. USC's Trojan Family is like any other, and we each need to trust some member in our family as a mentor. The mentor then needs to trust us with the freedom to put wisdom into action. If you can't make it alone, you can only make it by trusting others. By nature, trust has no guarantee, and that's why it's called being faithful.

Scholarly. If you have faith in yourself and others, you have a good foundation for success in the face of adversity, whenever it may come. The next step is effectively channeling that faith into your way of life. This is done through scholarly work. Being a scholar is not defined by studying for class, watching game film, or time on the practice field. It's how you do those things. It's not just about repetition. It's about practicing excellence, repeatedly doing the right thing the right way. Scholarly work is defined by the habit of excellence.

Skillful. In order to be in a position to use your talents successfully, you need faith and the scholarly habit of excellence. A good teacher identifies your talents and shows you methods to grow those talents to their fullest. You must trust that, and repeatedly practice those methods the right way, through any adversity. Two roads open up when you are skillful. One road is easy because it blends in and doesn't lead anywhere, it requires no effort and there is no cost. The other road is considerably more difficult because it leads everywhere, and only you can ultimately know if you're headed in the right direction. The costs are significant and it takes every ounce of effort to make actual skills match their potential.

Courageous. If you have faith, if you are scholarly, and if you put the proper effort into your skills, then courage matters. When you think about competition, in some way there's always someone out there whose situation is better than yours and someone whose situation is worse. Heart is what separates you. Heart is defined by being positive in the face of adversity, finding the good in every single situation no matter how terrible, and by never giving up. In the end, it's not about technicalities or quick fixes. Whether it's another player, an injury, or a problem in your everyday life, it's about lining up across from your opponent and taking him on, man versus man. Courage is in the act, not the result.

Ambitious. You cannot have the ambition to achieve a successful result without the courage to put your faith, your scholarship, and your skills into action. Ambition is about rising above, and these things give you the proper foundation with which to do that. Being ambitious requires you to take all of these things and do them to the best of your ability. It's not the only way to win, but it's the only way to be successful. It's the only way to do things better than they've ever been done. This is the final key to adversity. Overcoming adversity is not always about besting the thing that threatens you. It's about knowing in your heart that you did everything -- you had faith, you practiced, you nurtured your skills, you had heart -- everything you possibly could to fight, and keep fighting, adversity itself.

It's ironic that a team's best chance to win is by shifting the focus from "win at all costs" to "win the right way." The team that displays the five qualities of The Trojan in a loss is more successful than the team that wins without them. And yet, in reality, the five qualities give the team its best chance to win! This is also true in our everyday lives. Not every hardship or negative situation will go away, and the success is not in making them go away. The success is in how we respond to them. Will I despair and be pessimistic because things are just too hard for me? Or, will I be positive and find the good and never give up despite the odds? Adversity comes down to the concept of "Fight On." It's a concept I truly believe in, and one that began with past USC Trojans fighting on regardless of the score. It has continued to be represented by Trojans of the present, fighting on all manner of injury and hardship, on and off the field, athlete or not. It will always be represented by The Trojan.

Snow in South Pasadena

"Grams, this is so cool," he said, at least five times. I was able to get up and spend some time with my nephew and niece the other day. We invited my sister-in-law to bring them over because there was a commercial being shot, no doubt, for the Christmas season. It was snowing, in a way, in South Pasadena. My four-year-old nephew was in heaven.

There were trucks galore, all kinds of equipment, and it was really cool for him to see the two houses dressed up for Christmas. There were two or three cherry pickers that he really spent a lot of time watching, although when he first heard about coming over, he was worried because we had no cherry trees. His eyes lit up when we pointed out that the driver was all the way up in the basket, moving his vehicle down the street. Soon my nephew saw how the production used the cherry pickers as they took up cameras for various shots and air hoses to help spray out the snow. "Uncle Jon," he said, "this is awesome."

I think back to what a magical time it was for me when I was four. When I watch my nephew, I'm amazed by how much a boy at that age understands, and I know it was probably the same for me. It was the age I asked my godfather if he "remembered when we were fishermen" and I do not doubt his assessment of my consciousness, if you will. A four-year-old knows many things, and in some ways, appreciates more things than older people do. More things are special and cool and awesome. There is still magic. One thing that is true, especially for this nephew, is that they know when they are given responsibility and they treat it responsibly.

At eight years old, I actually played in a commercial. It was nothing like the one we watched together the other day, though. We gathered on the porch, my niece and nephew, their mother, their grandparents, and even their uncle. We ate while the production was set up, and while my nephew ran around and observed like the foreman of a construction site. Of course, my niece behaved and ate like a prim and proper young lady, or maybe it was because she's still young enough for the high chair and had no escape. My nephew was more of a challenge, but I gave him his props once he got a whole helping of applesauce down. And at last, the biggest treat, the biggest desert besides the candy corn, he got to walk down the street and stand by the directors. I hope he gave his seal of approval. He certainly gave it to us.

"Grams, this is so cool."

Endurance

Note: This is a long one.

There are many kinds of endurance in life. The one I needed when my lung collapsed was very different from some other ones I've needed. It started with a complete drop in my spirits the moment I was diagnosed. I'll never forget it. I was somewhat concerned going in, just considering the fact that the chest pain I was experiencing had lasted for about a week. But I was concerned in the way you think, "I really should get this thing checked out and fixed." I had no idea what I was in for, but I recognized it the instant I saw the x-ray results. My heart dropped.

With as much experience with medical situations as I have had, I could almost say I have an amateur background in medicine. I can make educated guesses about the causes of symptoms I have or other people tell me about. Most medical professionals, when they meet me, also recognize that they can speak intelligently (as far as medicine goes) with me about whatever condition they are treating. Most especially, I have had enough x-rays that I can recognize basic and/or obvious issues pretty quickly. That was the case with my pneumothorax. I saw this steeply angled black triangle going diagonal from the top of my chest to my lower right side. Well, guess what, black in the middle of an x-ray is bad.

I remember sort of sinking my head back, almost before the doctor gave his diagnosis. Since I'd never heard of the technical term, pneumothorax, it gave me a moment of what was ultimately false hope when he said so matter-of-factly, "Oh yeah, he has a pneumothorax." Then he pointed it out, to be sure, and said, "Your right lung is completely collapsed." Even though, I have a good amount of basic medical knowledge, there are some areas that concern my health where fear overtakes thinking through the situation logically. Critical respiratory issues are one of those areas.

The tears were hard to restrain when the diagnosis hit home. I had a real mix of emotions at the time. I wanted to simply panic, but my stronger side held that in check because I think I knew deep down that the best thing I could do was listen to the doctor and prepare for whatever treatment was to come. Honestly, nothing could have prepared me. The doctor told me what he needed to, so I would understand the procedure, but nothing more, so I wouldn't go running for the hills.

Even not being fully aware of the pain I would endure, I was really scared. It's funny the different responses to fear people have. My reaction was to e-mail a lady friend of mine to whom I was close and hope for her support, even if it was just by knowing she would read it the next day. Thinking back, there are many reasons I chose her, but mostly it was because I assumed she could handle the bad news in its unresolved form. How presumptuous of me! And it was at the time, but the nice thing about hindsight is that now I know she was the perfect choice. Indeed, she wrote to me that night, comforting me, and telling me she was there. It was something crucial to hold on to during the following day with the procedure looming.

I awoke the next morning too early, naturally, and quickly got dressed and into the chair. My routine at the time was to take my morning medicine and then put on the breathing machine for an hour to make me comfortable. So I did that. Problem was, I had some bad pressure in my head and legs. Stress. Since we had to get to the hospital so early, I was only able to take half the time on the breather. The shortness of breath amped up the pain. Then it was time to get in the car.

It was cold. I remember vividly how freezing I felt when I got in the car. It was so, so cold. Of course, I asked for some heat but I barely began warming by the time I arrived at the hospital and had to get out. The rest of the ride I spent focused on breathing, both to compensate for the shortness and as meditation to fight the pain. This ride was way too short.

As much as I wanted the ride to take as long as possible, the wait I went through once I actually arrived at radiology was agonizing. At that point, when there was no escape, I just wanted to get it over with. I was still in terrible pain, hunched over and waiting for the key parts of my working lung to open up, and afraid. They called my name, and immediately that stuff meant nothing, well, except for the afraid part. There was just no way I would be mentally prepared in time.

I remember one of the office workers who takes care of registration coming in the radiology room and putting on my bracelet, and then the nurse who made the comment I'll never forget. To all the radiology nurses out there, please don't ever say this to a patient asking about the pain of having a lung reinflated: "Most patients describe it as annoying." Wow. Really didn't know how to take that one, so I disregarded it and focused on getting on the table & making sure I was as comfortable as possible. Amazing how little that mattered. After I got settled, I had to be alone except for the nurses and doctor. I was too disoriented to worry about that, and now I'm glad that no one stayed to watch the procedure.

There was this giant active x-ray machine over me, about 6 inches from my face. I'm lucky that I don't get claustrophobic, but I certainly felt like I was in it, in this thing 'til the end, and there was nothing I could do about it. The radiologist walked in, ready to go, and introduced himself. He rubbed some freezing cold alcohol on me and then marked a blue dot way over on the side of my right pectoral between two ribs. A lovely target. Then he put a sterile blue field over the area that actually sort of covered my face. It was disorienting, but looking back, it was good to be blocked from the vision of what the radiologist was doing. Last was the almost completely useless local anesthetic that could not possibly reach the area that needed it most. Then came the main event.

I felt the needle slide in the very superficial flesh, knowing I could take that. But then it met some stiff resistance: the chest wall. He said, "Okay here we go." As good a job he did, that innocent sentence struck the most fear into me. Before I could ask him what he was talking about, I felt him push really hard, I heard a pop, and there was a lightning strike. I knew then why God created the word, “fuck,” and I used that wisdom many times. Luckily, since I couldn't breathe, I couldn't say anything very loud. Soon, I was appealing to God directly. That was the worst pain in my life. I could not imagine being stabbed for real. The needle took a chest tube in with it so that the air in my chest cavity could be sucked out. It felt like a sumo wrestler sitting on my chest, and the pain was so, so unbearable as the lung re-expanded. Finally, the nurse asked if she could give me morphine. I answered, "Yes," almost before she finished asking me the question. First, the drugs brought me back to sanity and then I could actually feel good later when I was resting in an actual hospital bed.

Unfortunately, that is not the end as it I ended up requiring a hospital stay. But that is a different kind of endurance. And a morphine vacation is a much better way to end the day.