Friday, January 18, 2008

Confidence and a positive attitude

I was asked recently if I thought that the terms "confidence" and "positive attitude" were synonymous. My answer to that is, yes, but that the definition of confidence needs to be clear. In general, confidence implies a belief in a measure of certainty with regard to a particular outcome. Confidence means assurance. When we have confidence in ourselves, we are sure of who we are in a certain sense.

Confidence doesn't really carry one connotation or another, it has a neutral definition. In reality, however, any negative idea about confidence changes its definition. Overconfidence is governed by hubris and arrogance. Hubris implies a deluded and inflated self-pride. This leads to arrogance, which occurs when we are too certain of our pending achievements. It is extreme faith in some outcome without any sound reasons on which to base that extreme faith. While it seems, at first glance, that overconfidence is simply being ultra-sure of ourselves and our desired outcomes, we actually have no idea what is going on because we have obscured our senses in this regard.

In the moment, hubris and arrogance would make us believe very strongly but later, looking back, we would realize we knew nothing at all. Indifference is the inverse of overconfidence. This occurs when we have an exaggerated lack of faith in ourselves because we don't care about achieving any outcome, whether that refers to an event or a quality of personal character. Confidence can't work with a negative attitude. It doesn't matter whether people believe in themselves and wish to succeed in life or not. If they do, and yet they look at the rest of the world pessimistically, they're going to end up with a certain level of overconfidence. If people have an entirely cynical outlook all the way around, then indifference is inevitable.

True confidence, or at least my definition, is definitely synonymous with a positive attitude. This is a healthy level of assurance in ourselves and our achievements which comes from, or leads to, an optimistic outlook. I know in my life that my positive attitude and some of my best qualities set up a kind of reinforcing cycle that is kept in motion by confidence. As I have gotten older and really grown in my ability to analyze myself, I have taken notice and then accepted my abilities, my character strengths, all the things I'm good at, and all my good parts. I am really at peace with myself. It comes from seeing the world positively, but it also helps me to continue and sustain that attitude. And then, like a cycle, each thing reinforces the other. The more I maintain my optimism, the more confidence I have, and that allows me to discover new qualities about myself or strengthen old ones, which makes me even more positive which increases my confidence, ad infinitum.

Happiness, for me, stems from a positive attitude. Being positive is about how I choose to see the world, and the choice is very important. Often times, I feel like I can choose to be happy as well. Other times, I'm not able to choose how I feel, but even in negative emotions there can be a positive outlook. I can remember that there is good in expressing sadness or anger at times and also remind myself that there is always another sunrise coming.

One other important thing is a form of surrender that exists within the positive attitude. This is willful, so it is not the same as indifference. The idea here is to surrender myself to that which I cannot control. There is no point in stressing over those things, so why not be happy and enjoy the ride? If I can give up worrying about the matters in which I have no choice and devote all my time and energy toward the choices I can make, then I have maximized my ability to control my own happiness. That is a major step in having a positive attitude and gives me a sound reason for self-confidence.

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

The Vigorous Pursuit

Today is the anniversary of my lung reinflation procedure. In almost every respect, that procedure put me in a completely different place today as compared to a little over a year ago. It's probably typical that I believe most of the changes are positive ones. However, I'm still left with some negative feelings and certainly some emotional hangups.

I feel vulnerable, and I can't get around it. Obviously, I've always been vulnerable, but the collapse really made it tangible for me. Whether or not my vulnerability was tangible to others is really beside the point. It's not exaggerating to say that until I underwent the procedure, I truly was not aware of my vulnerability. I already knew how precious life was and I had a very healthy, and unusual for this society, view of death. But I finally got an in-your-face example of how fragile the human body really is. It is an emotional realization. Not only are there untold forces outside of my control, but those forces can hurt me and the ones I love. A pessimist could have a field day with that statement. However, I actually took a lot of good from it. I feel more alive now that I've had that realization.

I have always believed in enjoying life and being happy. What changed in me is that I have accepted wanting to feel good. I embrace my desire. That thing about suffering being caused by desire can be confusing. I realize now that it is not a teaching that shows me how to remove suffering from my life. Rather, it is a statement about the human condition. For all the pain and fragility we endure in our bodies, simply being alive also affords us so much pleasure. I choose, now, to indulge in it happily and without remorse. More of us should do that, I think.

My choice to accept the desire to feel good has made me even more optimistic and given me a ton of self-confidence. Granted, none of this happened overnight and my ideas here have been tested many times. It did take the whole year. Since the year has passed, I have grown in my self-acceptance and I don't find too many situations in which I feel uncomfortable.

When it comes down to it, the emotional vulnerability caused by the collapse can only be cured by me. For better or worse, the memories of the procedure itself will always be with me. The fear of it happening again will only go away with time. The emotions are also connected to me physically by all the parts of my body involved in fixing the lung collapse. My skin, my chest, my muscle tissue there, and that part of my lung, those things also physically feel vulnerable. It is difficult to describe and primarily psychological, but it is there. Every once in a while, little pains come back, just like memory flashes of the procedure.

Some of my emotional vulnerability cannot, or better yet should not, be cured. When time begins to move us away from a major event in our lives, whether it is a trauma or some special occasion, it is inevitable that we revert to an everyday routine style of living. In that regard, I almost feel like I am more alive during my crises than most other times. My emotions were very close to the surface around the time of the collapse. Now, it makes me glad to experience strong emotion. For instance, I actually feel good after some song or film moves me to tears. I certainly don't want to cure that. My emotions are my connection to the times in my life in which I feel most alive.

I have grown in my fondness for the people I love. Appreciating them is something I have always done, but I feel like I am now more consciously aware of the delight I take in my relationships with them. I know what it is to enjoy their enjoyment, to feel achievement in their achievements, and to be happy because of their happiness. In most of the aspects of my life, quantity is something I hardly experience. It's all about quality. I don't have an enormity of close friends I would call brother, or sister, or lover. I don't get to see them terribly often. So, I make up for it by maximizing every moment we spend together which allows those relationships to be enriched in a truly special way. I see my family more often, but I put the same spiritual energy into the maximizing and the enriching.

One thing that has not changed over this year is my love of writing. It has increased, increased, increased exponentially. I think the crux of this thought and all of the thoughts I have had about my anniversary is that I feel affirmed. My way of life, my beliefs, my current place, my direction, my character, all of these things have been affirmed in me. After much thought this year, I have discovered that writing is my vocation. It was simply something I was good at until 2004. That year it became an interest and an intense hobby. In 2005, I changed it to my major in college and in the fall of that year my fate was sealed when I took Intro to Creative Writing. Writing had become my occupation by the fall of 2006. And now, I can feel deep down that I am called to write.

I wrote before that a pessimist could have a field day with the idea that we can be hurt by so many uncontrollable forces, and that includes other human beings. I can understand why that looks negative at face value. Digging deeper, however, look at all the good. It is completely useless for me to worry about those things I cannot control. Imagine how liberating it is, then, to accept that there are all those forces out there and stop stressing about them. Imagine all the time and energy saved that can now be used for better things. The preciousness of life, the realization that, in a split second, everything could end or change makes it so easy to live in the moment. I'm all for giving up on guilt and instead focusing on how special it is to get to see this universe. The wonder it offers us is amazing and it should be enjoyed with exuberance.

The best thing we can do is to acknowledge it all because all of it is necessary. Know that bad things threaten us, realize our precarious position, and appreciate the good that makes it worth while. I really mean it when I write: it's all good. We need one thing to understand the other. Be glad that this world is so fragile, for it gives us the passion to delight in its pleasure.

Life is the vigorous pursuit.

Sunday, December 30, 2007

2008

The New Year will start with a bit of fun for me, but then it will get really difficult. My new beginning will be an emotional one. I'm calling the 4th as the anniversary of my lung collapse. I first felt the chest pain on that day. That is followed by the one-year mark of the opening of "13" and I'm still very proud of that. Then, I'll have the capper. I will be a whole year removed from the collapse diagnosis on the 8th and the reinflation procedure on the 9th. It's going to be a vulnerable time for me, although I have no qualms about admitting that. The fear of something like that happening again is still alive in me. Even in my most positive frame of mind, I anticipate reliving those feelings once again.

As 2007 comes to a close, I feel like I am positioned for a great year coming up despite the year I had. My health has turned a corner and I feel like I have at least found the road to recovery on the map. When I deal with a health issue, all I need is to be comfortable with the treatment and plan of attack. I feel very confident as soon as I have that. That has been true of my current concerns as well. The good news as of now is that not only do I have good mental confidence, but I also have physical confidence based on how my body is responding.

Creatively, it has been some time since I have been this inspired to write. I have about five solid ideas running concurrently in my head day in and day out. Ideas, of course, are wonderful. But this isn't an IBM advert, and I won't get paid to ideate. I might get paid to write. Now, it's a simple matter of discipline, research, and continued health improvement. I've got Joseph Campbell and his Power of Myth. I've got three world-class doctors and a couple of excellent nurses. The discipline is up to me. Uh Oh.

I actually do participate in the time-honored tradition of making New Year's resolutions. Usually, I also participate in the time-honored tradition of breaking New Year's resolutions. I'm going to try something new this year. I'm going to maintain my past resolutions, but define them more specifically so they can actually be, you know, accomplished. I want to always be in the middle of a book, but this year I resolve to read for at least one hour each week. I'm going to write every day, but this year I'll do this by planning the time to write at least two sentences per day. I need to make quicker, more lasting decisions and that will be achieved by making at least one choice each day based purely on instinct. I have other, more private, resolutions I have made and I hope to accomplish them in the same way.

Enjoy celebrating on New Year's Eve. It doesn't usually live up to expectations, but we can still have fun nonetheless, right? Take a couple aspirin when you get up the next day and watch the Rose Parade. I've always kept a special place in my heart for the Tournament. And I can't wait for the last Trojan win of the season in the Rose Bowl.

Happy New Year!

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Let's get together and feel all right

I write often about pain & suffering, brokenness, and dealing with adversity. They are major facts of life that fit into this amazing universe of ours. They provide a lot of artistic inspiration and that's obvious if you consider how popular drama has been for centuries. However, there's something to be said for feeling good.

Physical and emotional happiness and pleasure are nice. They feel good. In particular, they make enduring through adverse situations worth it. Happiness and pleasure actually would not feel as good without those adverse situations. Philosophically speaking, neither side can exist without the other. Knowing that fact helps me to get through my suffering and it allows me to appreciate those moments, experiences, and people that give me pleasure and make me happy.

There are many things that make me feel the happiest, that give me the most pleasure. Certain foods -- like DoubleDouble's, Tommy chili burgers, and Pie & Burger burgers, or chocolate milkshakes from Carrows -- are like a slice of heaven. I also appreciate the experience of a cold Sam Adams, a tasty hors d'oeuvres, and a Trojan victory in sports.

Because of my interests in art and philosophy, I'm really into aesthetics. Beyond a simple male biological level, I truly appreciate the feminine form, and I enjoy seeing it in a beautiful woman or in a piece of abstract art that possesses those qualities: symmetry, proportion, smooth transitions, and an emphasis on the curve over the angle.

What I enjoy the most is spending time with the people I love. Family is very important in my life and, for sure, I truly treasure my nieces and nephews, who are all under the age of 5. It is a real treat to see the excitement in their eyes and listen to them talk and hear their ideas. It is amazing to see a zeal that is completely innocent (well, almost completely). I love every chance I get to talk with them, and watch movies, and play. Watching children grow and learn as each minute passes makes me very happy.

I'm also lucky enough to have several friends that I love as well. My close friends from high school and college are now my brothers. It's hardly ever stated, but the chance to get together and reminisce is one we always enjoy. Another pleasure I get is from other special friends and the opportunity to spend time alone with them.

Those are just a few of the things that give me pleasure. As nice as each individual one may be, the best is combining them, so that I can watch sports with my family, or spend time with a beautiful woman, or share food & drink with my closest friends. All of these are experiences that make me feel good.

I believe that they show the role happiness plays in spirituality. My focus is usually on being the bigger person and doing the right thing instead of doing the thing that is good for me. I agree with that, of course. However, it's also important never to forget that it's both right and good for me to be happy. My soul needs me to feel good. It's sort of like a spiritual vacation, and those are never bad. I've always thought that a pleasurable experience gives my spirit a chance to recharge before the next crisis.

I hope that everyone gets a chance during the holiday season to sit back and enjoy the pleasure of it, allow themselves to be happy, even for a moment. Even better, let's get together and feel all right. Vacation is there for a reason. Let us be with our loved ones and recharge for the coming year. May you all feel good now and throughout this next year.

From my tradition to yours... Merry Christmas!

Friday, December 7, 2007

The Greatest Gift

"The capacity to give one's attention to a sufferer is a very rare and difficult thing; it is almost a miracle, it is a miracle." -- Simone Weil
The greatest gift is a miracle. It's an expression of some part of yourself that you give to someone else. The thing you give to that person is very nearly beside the point. It's just the means by which the transfer of you to the other person takes place. By you, I mean your essence, a piece of your spirit.

In reality, the materials we give to each other can get in the way. As much as we like our stuff, and we do, believe me, I have stuff and I like stuff, using stuff as a gift only works when it complements our purpose, rather than deflecting it. What does genuine gift-giving try to accomplish? Well, I want the person on the receiving end of my gift to know how I feel about them. In some way, large or small, I want to grow together with that person.

I want to create an understanding. I want to strengthen our connection.

Sometimes, however, a material gift does get in our way, deflecting us from our purpose. Because of that, I feel that no material gift, regardless of how pure or thoughtful or amazing it is, can be considered the greatest. The greatest gift cuts out the middleman. Rather than a simple expression, the greatest thing you can give is yourself.

Giving yourself means giving your attention to someone. In the context of the greatest gift, attention means something beyond its common meaning. It usually is social contact, chitchatting, and simple interaction. This kind of attention can be given easily and can easily be insincere. Giving your true attention to someone is much more complex than that. It is important to really devote yourself to that person in your experience of them. It is not easy. It takes spiritual energy to be attentive to the spiritual needs of someone else.

Listen.

Be with the other person. That's what it's really all about. The greatest gift between two people is a coming together.

The greatest gift in appearance would be quite commonplace: a dad playing football with his son, a teacher tutoring her student after hours, a priest counseling one of the troubled faithful, a doctor & nurse treating a patient, best friends reminiscing, two lovers in bed. These are all basic examples with matter-of-fact explanations. They don't have to be instances of the greatest gift. Parenting, teaching, ministry, medicine, friendship, and sex can just be what they are. Then again, that's only looking at the appearance, and the greatest gift is all about essence. The identity of a thing is derived from its essence.

Care (again, remember the truer definition of the term) is crucial in determining when a miracle of interpersonal exchange is happening. That decides the intentions of the gift-giver. Anything can be done physically, denying the spiritual element in whole or in part. The greatest gift is given with full integrity because only the two people involved can decide to believe that it is sincere, and only the giver can know for sure if it is.

We are all sufferers. That is part of being human. When you give yourself, when you give genuine, true attention to someone who is suffering, that is a miracle. Devotion, listening, and truly being with someone... those things create a spiritual connection. And that allows the father to show his love to his son feeling too much stress. This kind of giving lets the teacher spend some quality time with her student who might feel lost. It gives the priest a chance to really guide someone in crisis. Devoted medical professionals finally get to care for the person as a whole. Best friends can really listen to each other and see where they are in their lives. And, being together allows two lovers to find acceptance in a physical act of love.

These are the greatest gifts. These are miracles.

Friday, November 30, 2007

Letter to the Coliseum Commission

To the members of the Coliseum Commission,

My name is J. T. Murphy. I am a Writer who attended the University of Southern California, and I owe the school immensely for its boost to my career and my character. I send this letter on behalf of the Trojan football program and Director of Athletics, Michael L. Garrett. I am concerned about our beloved Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum.

The stadium needs complete replacement of facilities, across the board. Concessions have not been commensurate with the services offered at all modern athletic sites. Restrooms are inadequate, to say the least, especially with the Trojans being as popular as they are today. The media systems are grossly inadequate, including the video and sound systems and the scoreboards. They must be replaced with state-of-the-art systems that are easily obtainable.

The Coliseum is a prestigious landmark and it is a shame that the structure on which it is built has been allowed to deteriorate to its current state. Stairs, walkways, and infrastructure are all made of concrete, and they need significant repair. All seats must be replaced. Currently, access to this stadium is inefficient and safety is a concern. Elevators and escalators are needed to improve this, as well as a reconfiguration of the entry gates.

Mike Garrett informed me that the University asked to participate in the decisions affecting a stadium that has primarily served as the home of its football program for over 80 years. He stated that the University requested opportunities to control more of the Coliseum's revenue, that is in fact generated by the Trojan football program, in order to offset the cost to the school of repairing the stadium. In exchange, USC is prepared to spend $100 million of the budget of the Athletics Department on all the necessary renovations. Also, USC could guarantee a much more active Coliseum year-round, beyond home football games.

This offer was rejected. I cannot fathom the reason. USC has asked for changes to the Coliseum. USC has asked to pay for them, and to make sure they are made properly and efficiently. The NFL has stated time and time again that they will not do this. Taxpayers should not be asked to do this. USC, however, wants to take action in all facets. The University has a vested interest in the advancement and upkeep of the Coliseum. The University can ensure the success of using the stadium for entertainment purposes, given its active student body. Nothing would change for the Coliseum Commission, aside from a significant increase in revenue.

Please allow USC to be more than a tenant. Let the school direct and fund the renovation and repair of the Coliseum in concert with the Coliseum Commission, the city, the county, and the state. At the same time, give this fine University control of more of the stadium's revenue to balance the expenses of refurbishment.

When each one of us came to the community at USC, we learned about The Trojan. Let me tell you, it is more than a nickname for our sports teams. The people that really buy into the Trojan Family, including me, become Trojans themselves. It is the reason USC has stayed with the Coliseum all these years, while other teams have come and gone. It is the reason we have such a remarkable relationship with our surrounding neighborhoods, and the financial data is there to back it up. Home games bring $5 million each fall to the local economy. Each year, $4 billion from USC goes into it.

We want to remain in the Coliseum. We want to tailgate on University Park, and visit Heritage Hall, and witness Step Off. We want to see the Spirit of Troy take the field before kickoff and fill our hearts with drumbeats. We want to see the lighting of the Olympic Torch precede another Trojan victory. We want those memories to remain the same.

There is another side to being a Trojan. It involves being strong in the face of something unpleasant. That is what we are prepared to do. If we have to, we will deal with our team playing home games in the Rose Bowl. That is not an empty threat. We may not like it, but the students, alumni, and fans will do what we must in order to help the football program.

I implore the Coliseum Commission to reconsider its position. USC's offer is advantageous. However, the current course on which these negotiations have been set is detrimental to the Commission. A few seasons of Trojan home games in the Rose Bowl and public opinion may swell beyond simply supporting USC.

The calls for the University to own the Coliseum outright may grow in number and strength.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Team-Building: the Spartan Phalanx in 300

"Young men, fight shield to shield and never succumb to panic or miserable flight, but steel the heart in your chests with magnificence and courage."
-- Tyrtaeus, The War Songs of Tyrtaeus
The Greek phalanx was first developed in the 8th century B.C. and lasted as the primary mode of battle for 4 centuries until the Roman legion began to take shape. The phalanx was defeated, once and for all, at the Battle of Pydna in 160 B.C.

The disposition of the forces was such that the effectiveness of the
phalanx depended on the execution: how well the soldiers could maintain the formation in combat, and how well they could stand their ground in the heat of battle. The opponent was not the main enemy of the phalanx. Fear was the enemy. The conventional wisdom of the time was that the side that was more disciplined and more courageous would win. The Greek word dynamis, which means "will to fight", expressed the desire that kept the soldiers in formation. In many cases, one side would flee before they could be engaged by the side with the greater will.

The formation was organized with soldiers lined up very closely to one another in ranks with their shields locked together. An individual soldier carried his shield, called an aspis, on his left arm, protecting not himself but the soldier to his left. He used his right arm to attack with his spear, called a doru, or sword, called a xiphos. Spearmen projected their spears over the outermost rank of shields. Essentially, the phalanx was a massive spear-and-shield wall. The deciding factor was determined by which side could knock the other off balance, tactically speaking. Battles were won when one army's vulnerable right side (carrying spears) overpowered the opposing army's protected left side (carrying shields).

In Sparta, the shield was symbolic. It represented the subordination of the individual soldier to his unit as well as the integral part he played in its success. This was his solemn responsibility to his brothers in arms. During the mid 5th century B.C., the Spartans replaced family-based shield designs with the letter lambda, which stood for Laconia, or Lacedaemon. The lambda is used anachronistically in the film, 300. The film is mostly an artistic exaggeration of the events surrounding and including the Battle of Thermopylae, which occurred in 480 B.C.

Possibly the greatest recorded last stand in history, the battle featured 300 Spartans, backed by around 7,000 other Greek allies, against the massive imperial army of Xerxes, King of Persia, which consisted of at least 100,000 troops. The film version of this battle is excellent when viewed as a portrayal of the spirit and emotion surrounding it, rather than a factual record, which it is not. However, the hyperbole works in almost every case. Xerxes was not an androgynous seven-footer but he was insane. According to Greek historian Herodotus, after an unsuccessful attempt to cross the Hellespont strait, Xerxes had the water itself whipped 300 times.

More to the point, the decision by the filmmakers to include in the main battle only the 300 Spartans was very wise. The essential emphasis on the point that these men had only each other to rely on makes this film a great one for team-building. We have scene after scene of our red tunic clad, sacred shield wielding heroes facing off against what appears to be a billion of the nastiest, ugliest enemy soldiers one can imagine.

None of this would have been possible without the phalanx. The characters in the film break the formation technically, which is unrealistic but required for the excitement factor. However, what is more important is that they never break the duties and principles they hold so dear. Everything that is involved in maximizing the effectiveness of the Spartan phalanx also makes for the best kind of team.

Ultimately, the 300 were defeated. But they never vacated the solemn responsibility they had for one another and they never abandoned the courage, the discipline, and the dynamis required to fight. Protect the team, win or lose... that's exactly what they did. Despite the loss at Thermopylae, the Athenian victory at Marathon in 490 B.C. is an example of the success of the formation against a superior opponent. 10,000 Athenians decisively defeated 26,000 Persians.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

How I Deal with Pain

Pain sucks, and there's no way around it. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, I have a very high pain tolerance level. On one hand, that means that it takes a lot of suffering to knock me down. On the other, that means that it takes a lot of suffering to knock me down. The good news about having high pain tolerance is that I have developed several ways to cope. Most of them are pretty standard and logical, but it's always cool for me to think about the mentality that goes into dealing with pain.

Pain is divided into two classes for me. The first class is just your garden-variety pain. It's the kind of stuff everybody deals with on a daily basis. I'm actually a pretty big wuss when it comes to this class. In this instance, I'll usually be vocal about anything. I call it, "expressing my pain." I figure that because I have to use up so much energy for the real pain, I'm entitled to be a sissy over the sissy stuff. The second class is big-time, emotion draining pain. This is the stuff that requires my game face. Besides medication, the best, most effective method for fighting pain is meditative breathing.

A lot of the stuff I face happens in a medical setting. Controlled breathing is good for everyone involved. If you aren't used to managing such a situation, it's easy to panic, which makes things really hard on the medical professionals. If you panic, they have to stop what they're doing and that prolongs the entire process. Falling into a good rhythm of breathing goes a long way toward ensuring that I will stay calm. Then, it's difficult to explain, but I try to exist purely and completely within the moment of each breath. I direct all my energy toward each inhalation and exhalation. I think of myself in no other context but that present moment. Literally by living from moment to moment, I can break up the experience of pain into smaller, more manageable bits. It's quite a meditative process which is why I call it meditative breathing.

Certain kinds of music are very helpful. It has to have an especially rhythmic quality to it. Obviously, there are certain genres that are more conducive to rhythmic music, but the genre doesn't matter in reality if the song I'm listening to has the type of richness and repetition I need. Using music for pain management comes from the same place, essentially, as the meditative breathing. Listening to the right music requires less energy, however, so it's very useful when I'm tired. I can be a little more passive and, in some ways, a little more relaxed. This allows me to just "be" in the moment and focus on the experience of each tiny movement of music.

Humor is extremely valuable, especially in a more social setting, although still a medical one. If I'm laughing or joking about whatever it is I'm going through, it gets minimized mentally for me and becomes easier to manage. I usually can compartmentalize the pain and allow myself to be distracted by jokes. Those who know my sense of humor can also use it to gauge how I'm feeling. Sometimes, I can feel the anxiety of the other people around me, the medical people not working on me and my loved ones, and that makes it worse. Humor allows me to be engaged with them about something else and that relieves a little of the tension, usually enough for what I need.

The last thing about coping with pain is realizing that these personal methods are not enough to deal with everything. The physical portion of this fact means acknowledging that a painkiller regimen is necessary. Finding the right balance on that front took me a year and a half, but once I had it down, that part of it became very easy. Emotionally, I've accepted that I need to depend on those I love to help get me through the rest.

Monday, October 29, 2007

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.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

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.