Archives for category: Logic & Reason

Another morning. I’m irked about small things, but woke early and spent an hour meditating and finding my way to a sense of calm acceptance and general contentment. It’s nice to be able to reach for it like a cold cola on a summer day and find relief. Practice. Practice. Practice.

We are each having our own experience. Surely the decisions made by asshats in black robes are not the product of viciousness, hate, and disregard for the fundamental humanity of others. It’s always far more likely a product of short-sightedness, inexperience, lack of perspective, and sure, actual cognitive shortfalls that are inevitable in the population; we are not all equally gifted, or equally willing to serve mankind well. Even judges and lawyers are having their own experiences, likely quite human ones.  I wonder what it must be like to go to work every day knowing the decisions you make will affect millions, and that a poor choice might cost many lives and change the face of the entire culture for the worse? Do Supreme Court justices wake up in the morning and think “today I will make the very best, wisest, decision I can make to better the lives of the people of this nation”? Or…do they just sort of…go to work?

Sometimes a little bit is quite enough.

Sometimes a little bit is quite enough.

Second espresso. Drinking them straight this morning, in a lovely stainless steel espresso demi-tasse cup I purchased decades ago, in Germany. It is a moment of exquisite satisfaction to enjoy the espresso in this cup, that was selected with such care as an addition to a growing collection of demi-tasse cups and saucers I had begun in my early twenties as a distraction from the horrors and stress of my life. This particular cup and saucer are as close to ‘indestructible’ as anything I own. This morning, that is meaningful, and I savor that quality quietly, as day breaks.

I am thinking about ‘truth’ and ‘reality’ and the way we use words to define our experiences, both physical and emotional, and our rather unfortunate willingness as human primates to deny each other the opportunity to be accepted for the experience we are indeed having, independent of each other.  It’s a pretty unpleasant thing we do to each other, actually. I see it a lot.  I’ll share what I mean by relating a conversation I recently overheard, that appeared to be between lovers.

Man (sharing plans for the near term future) “This will be fine. I’ve updated the budget. Now that you’re back to work, we’re in a good place for this. We’re wealthy!”

Woman (in an irritated contradictory tone) “I don’t agree.”

Man “You don’t agree?” (looks hurt and confused, concerned that plans are now derailed)

Woman “We’re not ‘wealthy’. I don’t agree with that.”

The discussion continued for a few more minutes before they went separate ways, clearly hurt, angry, frustrated – neither of them seemed to ‘feel heard’. Small wonder, really. Most people don’t seem to grasp the idea that it isn’t appropriate to disagree with a subjective emotionally based value statement that an individual makes about his or her own experience.  It’s just mean and rude, and pretty dismissive.  It’s easy to lose our way on that one, too, because disagreeing regarding a factual matter is appropriate, and often needful. “Wealthy” isn’t a factually defined term. It’s an emotionally defined term based on the speaking individual’s personal identity, how they feel about money, their perspective and experience with having, versus not having, and how much room they feel they have in their budget. It’s very personal. I’m sure there are incredibly rich people in terms of cash flow, real estate holdings, offshore investments, and capital in savings, who do not define themselves as ‘wealthy’ at all. Why would I think that? I know one.  I also know people who barely get by on a part-time job who feel incredibly ‘wealthy’ because their financial needs are comfortably met much of the time and their emotional lives are comfortable and nurturing. They view ‘wealth’ differently. There is, however, not a damned thing to disagree with.

This is not a discussion about wealth. It’s a matter of words, and words matter.  A ‘feeling of wealth’ is very subjective and doesn’t really have much to do with money. Any time a person flatly contradicts the emotional value statement of another person’s subjective experience, the person being contradicted feels rejected, dismissed, denied, misunderstood, and ‘not heard’. What they are being told is that their experience doesn’t count, or isn’t valid. That’s a pretty shitty way to treat another person. I work hard these days not to do that particular thing, and instead choosing to really hear what that emotional value statement is actually communicating.  It takes practice.

We each have our own subjective experience with ourselves, and with the world.  I myself feel incredibly injured by the recent SCOTUS decision regarding corporate personhood and the rights of corporate persons to deny me my rights as an actual person. It’s a big deal. It’s also highly subjective; most of my male friends and associates don’t have the same emotional experience with regard to the particular decision I am referencing. It is difficult to describe the additional hurt I feel when I try to talk about my experience in terms of emotional value statements; the lack of shared understanding quickly gets in the way, and I often find myself, once again, feeling dismissed, isolated, invalidated, overlooked, misunderstood, or straight up rejected and denied understanding at all, because of attempts to disagree with my emotional experience. That sucks.

Are you doing it, too? I catch myself now and again; I’m working very hard to root out this particular petty evil from the way I treat others. Is there a chance I’m not being clear on this? How about another example? Let’s use ‘beauty’ instead of ‘wealth’.  Imagine that you have a dear friend, or lover, or family member – someone you really care about in a positive way – and imagine they are horrifically disfigured from an acid attack that left their face badly scarred. You’re hanging out and your family member says, in a moment of great delight – maybe trying on clothes, or preparing for a fantastic night out – “I’m so beautiful!” Do you disagree with them? I mean, even in the privacy of your own thoughts – do you hear yourself saying “Um, but… no, not really.”? Are you that person? The utterly subjective nature of beauty being what it is, and then on top of that the utterly subjective nature of our individual experiences, and how we identify ourselves, and define our experiences… how could you? Rationally, logically, you wouldn’t have a leg to stand on – because ‘beauty’ is not a rational logical construct. It’s an emotional value statement. The person saying they feel beautiful gets to make the call on that – not you.  You’re your own person, of course, and you can have a different experience.  Disagreeing, though? Entirely inappropriate, and actually quite cruel, mean, and the sort of petty nastiness that makes the world less emotionally safe that most of us would like it to be.

I’m definitely on to something here, and a new bit of path opens before me. It’s part of The Big 5, too, isn’t it? I think this one falls under the heading of ‘Respect’. When we respect each other’s subjective emotional experience there is an opportunity to feel more profoundly nurtured, accepted, heard… that all sounds wonderful.

It's a good day to reflect.

It’s a good day to reflect.

Today is a good day to listen well, and with my whole attention. Today is a good day to respect the experiences of others, and to value their teaching. Today is a good day to respect each other’s fundamental humanity, however different we are. Today is a good day to respect my own experience, and understand that no one really can ‘disagree’ with my emotional value statements, or my feelings; they are mine and can’t be argued with unless I choose to allow it. Today is a good day to recognize that we all want to be heard.

I woke early this morning. It was very late before I fell asleep. A short night; there are potential consequences later in the day, when I start to feel fatigued. These days that is nothing more than something to be mindful of, to account for with kindness and compassion – and patience with myself.  At this early hour, that’s all theory for later. For now, I am quietly enjoying the too-brief tranquility of mornings and studying. This morning I am studying concepts of attachment and ‘clinging’ that undermine growth, development, ‘becoming’, and emotional resilience.

Sure, why not?

Sure, why not?

I spent a few moments, recently, grieving the loss of a particular experience I wholly enjoy. Like so many things, it could be that its time has simply passed; change is.  I experienced the sadness of that, the loss, and generally such moments feel destructive, joyless, and despairing to me. Yesterday I deviated from my norm, some glitch in my programming turned up and… I understood concepts related to attachment that I have been struggling with for some time now.  Change is. Growth happens through change – whether we embrace it or not – but the nature and extent of our growth may be affected by whether we embrace change or struggle with it.

Change is part of life.

Change is part of life.

I’m not saying I like the concept. I’m just saying yesterday I woke up to an important idea, and accepted it; when I can let go of attachment to specific experiences, possessions, or qualities of character I have chosen as ‘my identity’, I can achieve something new, try something, experience more, and move forward on life’s trajectory.  Even the most perfect of lovely mornings, repeated endlessly, could grow stale.  So, okay, I can find contentment in change…loss still hurts. Saying good-bye can still feel sad. Grief and grieving are still honest and heartfelt emotional experiences that are likely for most of us, at some point in life. Nothing unique there… but I grieve a broken porcelain demi-tasse cup with the emotional depth and intensity that some save for losses of life, and it occurs to me that may not be the best way to take care of my heart, or treat myself well.

I see this same scenario play out in other lives, too; at work, having to change schedules unexpectedly, it isn’t unusual for a coworker facing such a change to take it all very personally, to cling to what they know, and to fight change with a ferocity one might find reasonable on a battlefield…and then to see that same coworker happily embracing new opportunities opened by that change in schedule, once they experience it. Change is scariest when I cling tightly to what I have right now, to avoid facing change, itself.  It mattered yesterday because I was contemplating a change in household hours/schedules that can’t help but throw my own routine out of whack, and that sort of thing sometimes takes me weeks to adjust to.  I realized I was not helping myself by holding on to my attachment to what had been.  I still feel sad that I may be letting a delightful emotional butterfly flutter away…but I am also grateful to have enjoyed it so much, for so long.

My garden in summer, a surprisingly fragile 'now'.

My garden in summer, a surprisingly fragile ‘now’.

There are so many experiences I have enjoyed that just aren’t part of my experience now. Every one of them remains part of my experience over time, and my history. Each has value as a treasured memory. Each exists as a sort of random card in an infinite deck of things I enjoy that could reoccur. Many of them won’t. Holding on to them, refusing change, prevents me from embracing new experiences to add to that infinite deck.  Sounds so easy, so obvious…but…

I really like sipping ice-cold root beer and sitting near the fan on the screen porch at Grandmother’s house, eavesdropping on adult conversations on a humid summer afternoon.

I really like playing monopoly or cribbage by the tent stove, with my motor pool colleagues, waiting for my guard duty shift.

I really like running bare footed down the trails in the woods, where I was not supposed to be playing and could generally be found (with some effort) any childhood summer morning.

I really like lazy Sundays with generous brunches, sleeping in, a lot of sex, a great playlist, and a bit of gardening.

I really like late night strolls through park-like old residential neighborhoods on balmy summer nights.

I really like spending the day out on the water on my grandparent’s sail boat.

I really like being out at the range, honing my skills, and competing with myself and feeling like a bad ass.

I really like keeping a few chickens.

I really like slipping away to a nearby swimming hole on a Friday when I could be working, but the broad blue skies of Oklahoma suggest otherwise.

I really like hanging out with a lover, sharing anecdotes about who we each are, growing closer, and laughing together over coffee or lovemaking.

I really like new love and romance.

I really like being between jobs and taking months off for me.

I really like summer vacation.

…And I miss these things. There are a lot of experiences, moments, and relationships that I enjoy right now that I won’t have in some tomorrow down the road. Just like that list of experiences I am not having in my now.  Some of them I may experience again. Some of them I may never experience again.  Hell, some of them I don’t want to experience if to do so I have to return to the life or context in which I had them before. That’s something to consider, there.

So. Sure. It makes sense to let go. To accept change. To adapt. What comes next? Something new.

Clinging to what has been can prevent me seeing something new.

Clinging to what has been can prevent me seeing something new.

Today is a good day to embrace change.

I woke with a headache, and although I am in a decently pleasant mood, the headache definitely colors my experience.  I’m also stiff.  No big surprise there; the hike yesterday was at the limits of what my current fitness and skill level permit. So worth it. I mean…seriously?

A lovely way to 'take care of me'.

A lovely way to ‘take care of me’.

This morning, my coffee tastes strong and no-nonsense; this is a Monday morning that isn’t fucking about or dragging its feet. There’s work to be done, and an entire new week in which to do it.  The headache just reminds me to take care of me, and to treat myself well, and gently, and with compassion.

I woke from an odd moment in The Nightmare City, well before my alarm went off.  What woke me was the sudden realization that an interestingly fundamental slogan in our culture is also exceedingly negative, defensive, and carries an implicitly confrontational subtext – and I’d never noticed before that as ‘cultural platforms’ go, it’s not a pretty picture of who we are. Ready for it? “Let the buyer beware.” (You knew that was coming, right? From the title of the post?)

Let the buyer beware.  Think that over for a moment. Maybe I’m completely off the mark; the teachings of The Nightmare City are not always obvious, and not always what they seem initially to be.

Let the buyer beware. Sure, okay. As a cautionary statement, it does make sense to ‘take care of me’ and give due consideration to something I may purchase – or ‘buy into’. I entirely agree, too, that an informed and savvy consumer doesn’t eschew the opportunity to examine their decision and make every attempt to ensure that an item, event, or ideology is as represented before making a purchase; it matters to be informed, and to make careful choices that meet needs over time. Still… think about that sentence. Let the buyer beware.

Is it just me, or does the sentence ‘Let the buyer beware’ tend to imply that it is expected, understood, and accepted that the sellers of goods, services, or ideologies will indeed use any and all means necessary to make the sale – without regard to value, fit, or desirability – resulting in the necessity of every potential consumer to defend him/herself from fraud or wasteful spending (of money, of time, of interest), and to be alert to being cheated? Wow. So… instead of reinforcing great ethics, and values, we earnestly remind each other, and ourselves, to prepare to be cheated, because we know how likely it is.  Practical, sure, but… wow.

Is this who we are? Defensive, negative, prone to treating each other badly, exploiting others to get ahead, willing to defraud, to cheat, to deceive… Honest is easier, open is far less complicated to sustain, fair and compassionate is a much prettier picture of who we are – or who we can be.  What subtle ripples does ‘let the buyer beware’ cause in our entire culture, in our shared experience, and our shared understanding of who we are as individuals, as a society?  More questions. More steps along a journey.

Today is a good day to reconsider assumptions. Today is a good day to change the world.

Oh, hello… Please excuse my lack of enthusiasm for your visit. I admit, I was hoping we were really over and done with, you and I. Admit it, it’s been a troubled and troubling experience for years, unhappy, unpredictable, messy… I’d have made plans for your visit, you know, even though – or perhaps especially because – I enjoy you so little.  You wear me out, and wear me down, almost as soon as you arrive on the scene. Headaches, confusion, the way you play with my emotions and lie to me – it’s not okay, and I resent the way you make me out a fool or worse, again and again, but I’ve found some small amount of relief in being prepared. Of course, now you take even that from me.

So often, just as I’m finding a way to get along with you more easily, you slip away. I’m left with cleaning up the mess and making all the apologies. I can only imagine how lame those sound after all these years.  Once you’re finally gone, I still find myself putting distance between me, and everyone, over lingering fears about whether you are really gone, and because the insecurity I feel after even a few hours with you hangs around screwing with my ability to feel emotionally safe long after you are gone.

You rarely move right in these days, and while I do appreciate that, I am still incredibly annoyed, and feeling imposed upon, each and every time you peak around a corner into my space unexpectedly.

Today I’m incredibly angry with you for being here, now. It’s just not right. You were not invited to my birthday and I don’t want you around.  I’m hurt and frustrated that I don’t have the choice of saying ‘just go and don’t come back’; you are an unreasonable and unreasoning pain in my ass (metaphorically speaking) and I’m also frankly bored with you.  Still, you return again and again with no ability to understand what you are doing to me, and clearly no concern or compassion.

344 days since I’ve had to live shoulder to shoulder with your bullshit, your mess, and your drama – and still you hassle me and mess with my good times.  You know what? You can fuck right off. I’m done with you – if not now, then very very soon, and eventually even you will not be able to deny me that.  Maybe for another little while more, but it won’t be long now; eventually I will reach your border, Hormone Hell, and I will walk on through to the other side.

Well, or something like that; it’s my birthday. I make rather a big deal of some of them, less so of others, this one has been a strange wobbly roller coaster ride of achievement, change and the passage of time.  51 isn’t generally one of the ‘milestone birthdays’.  51 isn’t even cool enough to be a prime number birthday. It’s just… a year older than 50. 🙂

To be fair, 50 kicked ass in so many ways, how could 51 really challenge it on the very first day? So, we’ll keep things simple; dinner after I get home from work, a restaurant I like and consider a bit of a treat, and near enough to home that it won’t be a ludicrously late night. Sleep matters to my well-being and good cognition; 50 taught me a lot. I reached greedily for change, and learned a lot about choice, will, and love. I spent much of the year deeply invested in study and growth, and standing on the doorstep of 51, I feel a sense of purpose, and find that I have goals of my own that matter enough to build my life around them, to make my choices consistent with those desires on a daily basis, and to be willing to lean on those goals a little bit now and then and say ‘hey, I missed the mark here, I’d like to do this one differently…’. The occasional ‘course correction’ or adjustment in everyday trajectory feels less disruptive than it once did, generally. I am, overall, less stressed out, generally less confused, mostly more chill, and rarely deeply unhappy – only briefly, now and then.  It’s been a good year for change.

So…here I am. 51. As with most birthdays, it really doesn’t feel any different than 50 did, yesterday.  I’m okay with that.  Every day is a new experience, and it isn’t about age. Age and aging just don’t seem to be the Very Big Deal people so often make them out to be.  Yesterday I enjoyed a video that proves that point.  I’ve started hiking again, myself. I still work in my garden. I manage about 5 miles a day on foot during the week and yoga every day.  I feel pretty good, in spite of pain.  I feel strong and capable. Hell, I feel more beautiful at 51 than I felt at 20, and the photographs support that, mostly because the pained and tense, vaguely angry look on my face at 20 was off-putting, to say the least. At 51, I am smiling, joyful, and generally delighted with life and love. 51 is a very nice place to be in life.

Here’s to life and love and 51! Today is a good day to celebrate life. Today is a good day to enjoy love and work and growth and the small delights that keep things fun. Today is a good day to enjoy the world.

Where will my path take me?

Where will my path take me?