Archives for category: Logic & Reason

8 days to 50…and today is actually pretty damned unpleasant so far. I woke from nightmares, groggy and drenched in sweat, before the alarm went off. The day seemed to begin well enough; a good latte and a sense of relief that nightmares are something I can wake up from isn’t a bad beginning. The morning shared with a partner seemed lovely…

Maybe it looks easy..but...

Maybe it looks easy..but…

…the day is not idyllic. I’m frustrated. Struggling to communicate well. I feel discontented. I feel disappointed that I seem to suck so badly now at something I thought I was really good at, and wondering how it is that I ever managed to think I was good at it in the first place? I am ‘having a bad day’. Somehow the satisfaction of good work, skilled problem solving, and task completion is escaping me. I feel dissatisfied in spite of my efforts, in spite of my successes. Right now, only my failures seem to count for anything with me. I’m aggravated that I feel this way. Fucking hell – struggling to communicate, to connect, to feel joy in what is joyful to me, to feel valued and appreciated…I want very much to yield to ‘today sucks’, but I know it doesn’t have to be the day, even if it is the moment.

I am crying. I’m not sure how much that matters, really, aside from completely removing any chance of being able to communicate effectively. I can see sunshine outside through the patio door. Flowers nodding in the breezes as if to confirm that it is a lovely day… out there. (In here –  meaning within my being –  it is sucking rather a lot, today.) Some of this ‘growth’ stuff is pretty damned painful, and today it is hard to see the value. I sometimes feel very alone on this journey. Alone, and silenced.

I feel like ‘my inbox’ is piled high with things I need to master, work on, improve, succeed at, appreciate more, do better, understand more… and I feel like I’m not making any progress. At least, I feel that way today.

8 days…good thing it isn’t a deadline.

10…yesterday…and it was a good day. A day I experienced as ‘joyous’ and ‘busy’ and ‘delightful’. Yesterday I set up my aquarium – my birthday present from my loves. I’m so excited about it that sometimes I can’t contain my delight and it spills over onto everyone around me as words – a lot of words – chatter, really, like an excited child. I’m ok with that. It isn’t harmful. lol. I would take a million pictures of it, but honestly – it’s rocks and plants and a couple snails for now, and as excited as I am, I can admit there isn’t enough ‘going on’ to take more than a picture or two at this point. lol. I’m ok with that – so eager and excited I’d happily go home straight away, work half finished, and just sit watching the bubbles rise, and the snails creeping. 😀  Simple pleasures.

Excitement, adventure, and life...better than television.

Excitement, adventure, and life…better than television.

9…today…fatigue and hormones. A good morning, somehow rather ‘grown up’ and not particularly playful. I woke in a wonderful mood from a deep sleep, and not much inclined toward the serious side of life, but life doesn’t always inquire before she gets started on my day. <shrugs> I’m having a good day – but I feel fatigued to the point of wanting to ‘just lay down for a minute’…except I’m at work, and they frown on that sort of thing. LOL What am I missing? I slept, I managed my calories, I had my usual amount of caffeine at the usual intervals [=junkie, yes I know, as vices go, it is of no significance]…I’m just…so…tired…  Hormones more than likely. Shall we skip discussing that mess in a graphic way? Either you ‘get it’ and it is part of your direct or indirect experience, or you don’t. Maybe we can talk more when I’m alert – and hostile toward the world. I always find plenty to say about it then. lol. Should be another couple days… O_0

...and now for a change of topic...

…and now for a change of topic…

The garden is lovely – and we’ve added a greenhouse! I’ve wanted one for so long. My dear Granny had one, attached to a big big house out in the countryside – when she lived out in the countryside, with a house full of kids. I remember the smell of it, and the warmth that would soak into my bones right away, and the feeling that sunshine was somehow eternal under those glass panes. I remember her potting bench, the different sizes of terra cotta pots, and the soil and her trowel.  I remember her teaching me to re-use broken pottery – a broken pot makes a good toad house, and there were so many toads in the yard! I feel a momentary twinge of sadness as I realize how rarely I see a toad in the garden these days. Still, it is a lovely June, and my birthday is nine days away…there is life everywhere! The rose garden, full of blooms, the greenhouse with the tray of seedlings growing and becoming ready for pots, the aquarium and the gentle greenery shifting in the current, soon to be home to new creatures, more life…wow. Life. I’m glad I am here. I’m glad it is now.

"Circus Clown" in bloom.

“Circus Clown” in bloom.

"Graham Thomas" showing off next to an undefeatable root stock rose - there's a metaphor there, I'm sure...

“Graham Thomas” showing off next to an undefeatable root stock rose – there’s a metaphor there, I’m sure…

Not a rose at all! A lovely peony at the edge of the rose garden.

Not a rose at all! A lovely peony at the edge of the rose garden.

I want so much to believe she is "Splish-Splash" but I seriously doubt it...possibly "irresistible"? Well, sure...she's a rose.

I want so much to believe she is “Splish-Splash” but I seriously doubt it…possibly “irresistible”? Well, sure…she’s a rose.

Green, purple, sunshine, clouds...the garden; life.

Green, purple, sunshine, clouds…the garden; life.

50 in 9 days.

I have a strange relationship with Time. It begins in the morning of every new day, when I wake before my alarm goes off. I set it for 5am, but it rarely has a chance to go off, I usually wake minutes or seconds in advance, and shut it off. 4:58 am, 4:52 am, 4:46 am; never even a moment after 5am, even when my alarm is turned off for the weekend. Strangely, I don’t rely on that, and failing to be certain my alarm is set and turned on generally results in a night of restless sleep, waking again and again to check the time. I don’t set my alarm for an increment of time that isn’t on the hour, the half hour, or more rarely the quarter-hour. It seems pretty arbitrary and more a matter of habit or tradition than any rational choice about an ideal moment to wake.

Isn’t Time rather arbitrary, anyway? I mean, the math bits and science bits are certain to be important to someone, somewhere…but, my subjective experience with Time often finds me winding my way back to ‘why do I put myself through this when it seems so…imaginary?’ I don’t have a comfortable experience with Time. I rush myself, too often. I pile expectations of punctuality on my demands of myself that result in bitter emotional battles with myself, or others, over some occasion of minor lateness – in the face of a lifetime of time-based brutality directed at myself. I’m rarely late by my own actions; it freaks me out. When circumstances or people ‘make me late’ I’ve been known to unleash an amount of emotion and temper that is most easily described as ‘desperate and enraged’ – an unpleasant combination. I’m sure the origins of my troubled relationship with Time is lost in the darkness of ancient pain, and a lovely Sunday doesn’t yield to further exploration. Not right now, when I’m having such a good time. 🙂

This morning I was thinking about alarm clocks, agendas, and time and those thoughts resurfaced later while I was meditating. I suddenly felt so aware of something I’ve fought for so long… the only time I really benefit from concerning myself with is…now.  Well, hell… I have time for that. 😉

...some metaphor about time...

…some metaphor about time…

…I bet I already know how you finished that phrase, if you speak American English as a native. lol. Actually, I have rocks in my thoughts, so perhaps you aren’t far off? 🙂  I’m 15 days from my birthday…my new aquarium is standing in its place, ready to be leak tested, and waiting a final equipment check.  Yesterday I delighted my senses with a visit to a nearby landscaping business for some choice rocks for the decor. (Yes, I am the sort of being who finds searching great piles of river rock for just the right ones quite entertaining and satisfying.)   My experience is one of ‘creating a world’. lol. Grand of me, I know, but it is the sort of imagination I have, and really the metaphors while I also ‘work on me’ are endless and wonderful.

...a box of rocks.

…a box of rocks.

The box of rocks is exciting on its own, but it also got me thinking about aphorisms, homilies, figures of speech, slogans, and idioms; shortcuts we take to communicate.  Thinking on that ‘box of rocks’ and how we take communication shortcuts that rely on our listener’s own experience, history, and culture to understand us (by implication) as much as explicitly through our own unique verbiage, (if not more so) quickly put my attention on the clear contradiction between embracing a genuine life and genuine sense of self (sense of genuine self?) and taking verbal shortcuts.  Only 15 days left, and the first half ends…so, I will commit to avoiding the use of figures of speech, slogans, idioms, homilies, and aphorisms for the next 15 days.  Why? I mean, we all use them (some of us more than others). Aren’t they pretty harmless? Well… maybe, but it struck me that colorful or not, expressive or not, they are both lazy and imprecise – and in no case is a choice to use someone else’s phrasing truly ‘my own voice’. Worse still, so many times lately, at the heart of some bit of logical fallacy, error in reasoning, failure to take care of myself emotionally, or moment of treating someone else less well than I could have, I find some verbal shortcut that has become, over time, ‘programming’ instead.  It starts with nursery rhymes and rote memorization in childhood, and slowly becomes who we are.

Maybe you think I’m taking this too seriously? ‘ Making a mountain out of a…’  I don’t need to finish that, do I? Ok,  maybe it seems a small thing, and unlikely to change the way any of us view the world we live in. Perhaps. I mean… Science is safe from sloppy language becoming programming, right? Hmmm… maybe. Again, maybe. What if I ask you what the moon is made of? If the little voice inside your consciousness quickly quips ‘green cheese’ in the background – even though you know it is not factual– just maybe this is a bigger deal than seems obvious.  I’m at least going to give myself 15 days to be who I am, using my own words as much and as often as possible – even correcting myself if I catch myself taking a short-cut through the programming. lol. Why? Because ‘I love you, too.’ means more when it isn’t a knee jerk reaction to someone else saying ‘I love you’, and ‘because I want to be heard’…my own thoughts…my own words…the things that matter to me, about me, to be understood by others.

While I walked to work, I gave the matter of words a bit of thought, well, a lot of thought. I came up with uncountable numbers of simple phrases heard over my lifetime that have become something beyond a sentence or a simple thought – they are cultural programming.  I won’t list them, you no doubt have your own, I simply suggest that for me, it is time to retire as many phrases, and sentences, that I quickly reach for every day, in favor of more genuine heartfelt communication.  If it auto-completes in my head, I’ll be looking for other words. lol.

…In other words, 50 seems a nice point in life to be who I am.

Being one, among many.

Being one, among many.

Desire...

Desire…

It’s a simple enough thing that we all share, I think; ‘desire’ – for a thing, a person, a moment, a feeling, an event. The seeking, the craving, the wanting – certainly those feelings are part of my experience.  Not long ago, I participated in the simple search for ‘a tray’. An item. A thing. A functional purchase intended to fill an underlying need for … convenience.  Doesn’t matter what the need is, though, does it? Wouldn’t a need for information, or understanding, or change, or growth result in a similarly committed search? So, I went shopping with my partner, some time ago, for a simple tray of a certain ideal size, and the item just wasn’t to be found locally at all. We must have looked ‘everywhere’ – or what felt like ‘everywhere’ – and it just wasn’t. It was maddeningly frustrating. We eventually found one that was suitable, perhaps not ideal, and more expensive than seemed truly reasonable – but it was, and we accepted it, rather than delay the fulfillment of that need. There’s got to be a metaphor in there…because yesterday, we were just wandering about indulging our senses, and there they were – all the trays in the universe, stacked. lol. We didn’t need one.

Wishing, planning, and wanting...

Wishing, planning, and wanting…

I had a difficult weekend on some levels, but on others it was quite splendid. At one point, while I was walking from a starting point to a destination, I noticed a large patch of small mushrooms that had burst forth quite overnight. I thought for a while about that bit of life’s curriculum.  It seemed apropos and worthy of contemplation; the mycelium of a ‘patch’ of mushrooms is a living thing that in some species expands to cover a large area beneath the surface of the soil or whatever loosely covers it, expansive and unseen. Rain, sunshine, temperature, and other factors all influence precisely when a given type or patch of mushrooms suddenly fruits and becomes seen.  It’s a little like growth and change, isn’t it? I can read a book, I can study a lesson, I can do the exercises, but until ‘conditions are right’ those things don’t amount to new understanding, or change, or growth, or an epiphany.  I’ve been thinking about that a lot, and what it means for me with regard to learning new things, and pursuing new knowledge. I don’t have any witty or insightful conclusions; I keep pondering mushrooms.

What is valuable? What has meaning?

What is valuable? What has meaning? (detail from ‘Icon’ 2002)

I had occasion over the weekend to be struck by how many people in my life who had hurt me deeply, injured or traumatized me, or committed ‘great acts of evil’ against me, also prepared me for some future challenge in life, some greater understanding of something, or shared with me some indescribable bit of beauty: art, music, literature, poetry, sensuality, or experience.  It caused me to wonder a lot of things, not the least of which was – how do we determine what has value to us? Why can something we learned by rote as a child, and learn later is demonstrably untrue,be still likely to have such a hold on us over time, even nurturing the lies we tell ourselves, and complicating our understanding of the world around us? (Case in point: racism. I find very few people who are racist because they learned as adults that some race or another has some evident flaw that puts their safety or experience at risk. The racists I have been acquainted with learned it at home, from their parents and families, same with homophobia, and most other forms of personal bias.) How is it that we can gaze upon some gilded half-truth (or complete falsehood) passed down through generations and not recognize what is the true truth, the real reality? I thought about that some, too, this weekend. Still, no answers.

Fleeting inspiration...and nature shows.

Fleeting inspiration…and nature shows. (detail from “Inspiration” 2010)

I walked to work today, smelling the wet, fresh fragrances of spring garden and spring rain. I am inspired to paint; I have something in mind.  Everyday things keep getting in my everyday way… every day. lol. I could force the issue, throw down a drop cloth, drag my easel out of its hiding place, lay out my paints and brushes. I will. At some point. Eventually. For now, the stillness of mind that comes of simply contemplating inspiration is pretty satisfying.  In 16 days I will be 50. I have a few more things on my mind that painting, although the painting on my mind is relevant to my experience…it can wait.  Actually, it seems oddly much more ‘urgent’ to relax with my loves and watch ‘nature shows’ – those documentaries that are heavy on the exquisite photography of the world we live in, reassuringly narrated by some firm, calm ‘voice of reason’.  I remember with great fondness “Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom” from my childhood…and Jacques Cousteau…and lately we’ve been enjoying “Life” (BBC, narrated by David Attenborough) and the “Wonders” series (also BBC, narrated by physicist Professor Brian Cox).  How is it I never get bored with that sort of thing?

Power, and clarity, and keeping it simple.

Power, and clarity, and keeping it simple. (“Eye of Horus” 1995)

I’m finding value in clarity and simplicity lately…not just in words, but in plans, and actions, and thinking, too. My thoughts and my eyes return again and again to simpler things; captivated by ‘now’. It’s more powerful than I could have known to put down the words and the thoughts and all manner of complicated tangles of hurts and yearnings and lost moments, and simply breathe and be. I don’t have any way to convince or persuade, or share with any real efficiency, what a strange sudden and abrupt turn all of life – my own, at least – seems to have taken, and in such a wonderful way, so I watch it all unfold. Observing. Being. Enjoying the stillness within the chaos.

What it is. (detail of "Emotion and Reason" 2012)

What it is. (detail of “Emotion and Reason” 2012)

So…still more questions than answers. 16 days to my 50th birthday. I don’t think I am ‘the same person’ I was even 6 months ago. I’m not interpreting that, or judging the experience, I’m just making an observation. Change is very real, isn’t it?  Where does the idea that some sorts of people ‘don’t change’, or ‘can’t change’, come from? I remember years ago being told that my violent spouse-at-the-time would likely ‘never change’… but I don’t know now how true such a statement can really be. I’ve changed rather a lot over the years. I don’t doubt that the risk of waiting around for some people to change might be unacceptably high, or too emotionally, physically, or financially costly… but ‘never’ is one of those words I understand to pretty nearly assure a logic fallacy right around the corner – ‘never’ is sort of big. So is ‘always’. Or ‘everyone’…How about ‘no one’?. I try hard to avoid those, especially during conflict. Even where there might be some slim chance of offering a logical proof, the likelihood such an argument would be productive is slim.  I’m learning.

Only 16 days to go… I guess at 50 I’ll be ‘a grown up’ for real… or so I was recently advised by a bright young man of 3 in the waiting room of a recent appointment. lol. He also suggested I would ‘be able to do anything I want’… that would be a hell of a birthday present indeed (I had to decline his offer that I could be his grandmother if I wanted to. lol).  I am more than satisfied with reaching that milestone in good company – that would be the ‘anything’ that I want; the affection of my loved ones, and the pleasure of their good company.