tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58265251589814588572024-03-13T22:28:19.582-07:00Balance (or lack thereof) Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-87618826377104551352017-01-01T19:08:00.001-08:002017-01-01T19:08:41.604-08:00Outside In - Chapter 1*This originally appeared as a repeating column in the online 'zine Central Standard Time<div><br></div><div><br></div><div><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 16.799999237060547px; font-weight: bold; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Outside In</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s5" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; font-weight: bold; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Day 1</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s5" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; font-weight: bold; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The Morning</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">When I opened my eyes the sun was already high in the sky. The light filtered through the canopy of leaves and I could feel the warmth on my cheeks. The air was thick with the smell of wet leaves and pine needles. Usually when I go backpacking I wake up with the first cracks of sunlight but yesterday had been a long day of driving and hiking. I guess I needed the sleep. I had left all my technology at home including my watch. I've never been great at telling time from the position of the sun. Probably 10 am.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">It was spring and not very cold so I slept outside next to the camp fire that was still smoldering from the night before. Slowly I nursed it back to health and set a pot of water on top to boil for coffee and oatmeal. Solitary backpacking trips like this are always a bit of a spiritual experience for me, whatever that means. I can see the wisdom of the "vision quest." Really it is just being alone with your thoughts as you walk in the woods. Very meditative. I also always feel like it forces me to experience things as they come. I have left myself no choice.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">When the water started boiling I reached into my backpack and located a packet of oatmeal, maple and brown sugar, and some 'coffee bags' that I had made by packing grounds in a piece of filter and tying it with thread. I put water in my blue camping mug and put the bag in to steep. In my bowl I emptied the contents of the oatmeal packet and put in some water. The smell of coffee and the oatmeal reached my nose and filled me with a feeling much like being covered with a comfy blanket. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I leaned back against a tree and closed my eyes. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">On these trips I never set a schedule for myself. That is really hard for me. Back in Chicago I am self employed so I have gotten very good at making a schedule for myself but as a result I always feel nervous at first being idle. Getting miles out in the woods you are forced to live at a different pace.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I took a sip of my coffee. Hot. Earthy. Almost chocolatey. I put a spoonful of the oatmeal in my mouth. It was sweet and thick and I could feel the warmth slide down my throat. After I finished both I started to pack my backpack. Everything has its place. It's the only way it fits into the pack. I doused the embers with the remaining water. It was a very small fire so it didn't take much to render it dormant. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I sat on a fallen tree and looked at my map. Last night I had slept in a valley near a river that ran through the area. I decided that today's hike would be up to the crest of the mountain. It was a smaller rolling mountain so no climbing necessary but it meant an uphill walk all day with a 40 lb pack on my back. Just yesterday I had hike down the other side of this mountain. For a moment my mind wandered to thinking about how Sisyphus must have felt. The difference is that I was doing it by choice not as a punishment imposed by the gods which might make it even more absurd. The classic philosophical definition of the absurd is the place where the objective world and our perception of it meet. A backpacking trip was truly absurd and all about experiencing. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Once I had my backpack packed, I hoisted it on my back. "Lift with the knees." I fastened and tightened the waist belt and headed out down the trail. For now the trail followed along a small stream. It was spring and so the forest was coming to life but still with evidence of the carnage from the previous autumn and winter. This area is so alive in the spring. Almost a temperate rain forest. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Just then a light rain started to fall. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s5" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; font-weight: bold;">Uphill</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;"></span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As raindrops hit the bare skin on my arms I could feel each drop like a little spike of cold. The feeling shot up my spine. I got goosebumps. I could almost imagine the jolt of electricity running through my nervous system. Because of some nerve damage I had years ago the sensation was slightly different in my right arm. On my left arm the raindrops felt cold and wet but drops felt almost like boiling water on my right. Each drop made we wince. My mind wandered to the thought of the difference in sensation due to damaged wiring and to the mechanical part of our perception of the world.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The rain began to fall a little harder. Hiking always generates body heat and the rain felt good, for now. I always find the sound of rain in the forest very soothing. The pitter-patter of thousands of droplets as they hit the leaves. The smell of rain always relaxes me too. Very smooth and calming.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As I hiked along I could feel the grade of the trail gradually increase and my quadriceps started to burn. The only problem with rain is it makes the backpack a little heavier.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My mind wandered back to the difference in perception between my arms. The human body as biological robot. So much of our perception of the world is based on our senses. I remember reading a book by neuroscientist Antonio Damasio where he talks about our perception and associations with experiences being formed over our lifetime and each new experience being based on previous experience. Each of us has a different life experience thus each of us perceives the world differently. Robert Anton Wilson calls it "reality tunnels". Over a lifetime we build our tunnel. Philosophers like Camus call it the absurd. Subjective reality. Wilson talks about how it is surprising that our "reality tunnels" ever intersect with our life experiences all being unique and yet somehow they do.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The rain started to slow down to a very light drizzle. The rain was just enough to cool things down a bit and add a humidity to the air. The air became very still and a slight fog started to form. As I ascended the trail I noticed the change in the underbrush. Down in the valley there were ferns and moss on everything. As I headed up the mountain I saw it change to deciduous bushes. I wasn't sure of the variety but the change was noticeable. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I tried to take my mind off the fact that my pack felt increasing heavy as I walked uphill by focusing on my breath. I had been walking for about 2 hours or so and was starting to get a little tired and hungry. I decided it was time to take a break. I took off my pack and leaned it up against a tree. I opened the side pocket and fished around inside it for a granola bar. When I found one I grabbed my water bottle and sat down on a rock on the trail's edge. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">I began listen. As I listened</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">,</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;"> more and more sounds met my ears. It was like the forest was waiting for this moment to play me its symphony. In reality that symphony is always going. I had just stopped to listen.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s5" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; font-weight: bold; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Symphony of Sound</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As I sat there the first thing that caught my ear was the sharp, distinct song of a cardinal. I looked around for him but the tree cover where I sat was very thick. His song was so bright, so stark. I decided to close my eyes and let my ears drink it in. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">That's when it happened. The cardinal call was so prominent, like a melody of the forest song, but then another series of birth calls, more like chirps and squeaks, sneaked their way into my ear's eye. Seemingly much less organized than the single line of the cardinal. At first I tried to identify the bird. I had heard it before. But it occurred to me that the instrument of the player was not important at this moment. The symphony continued.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I focused on my breath. The funny thing about actively attempting to enter a meditative state is that trying not to try is a paradox of sorts. I remember a meditation teacher telling me once that you need to give your mind something to do. Have it pay attention to your breathing. Sama vritti. Equal length breath. 1-2-3-4-5-6...6-5-4-3-2-1</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">As the cardinal song soared above the chirps of the multitude</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">,</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;"> I began to notice a slight thumping sound. At first it was a foreign sound to me and my mind tried to classify. Maybe it was drops hitting the leaves from the rain that had slowed. There was a moment of my mind starting to lose the fragile focus I had just started to find. Breathe. 1-2-3-4-5-6...6-5-4-3-2-1.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">A wash of sound whispered steadily underneath the cardinal song, the cacophony of chirping, the thumping of dripping water hitting leaves. Wind. Wind in the leaves. Thousands of leaves all whispering as the air of a light breeze brushed them. Ancient trees responded with very quiet creaks and groans as the wind pushed their branches gently to and fro. 1-2-3-4-5-6...6-5-4-3-2-1.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">I sat there in a moment of stillness. I felt a thought come over me. If these sounds are always there, why don't I notice them? Layer upon layer. The mind is a powerful thing. We filter out so much surrounding experience. We have to or we'd never be able to have a conversation or complete a task. At that moment though</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">,</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;"> I saw the importance of slowing down, giving my mind a break, and letting experience flow. It all starts with breath.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Almost as though a conductor had cued a change something happened in the canopy of trees that disturbed the steady wash of sound. All at once the cardinal stopped. The cacophony of birds got quiet. Only the thumping and the wash of wind on leaves remained.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I sat there for a moment longer. Breathing. 1-2-3-4-5-6...6-5-4-3-2-1. Slowly I began to open my eyes. How long had I been there? It didn't matter. This was exactly why I left my watch at home. The temptation to scrutinize fractional divisions of eternity. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I noticed that the sun was past high noon and I did want to make it to the crest of the rolling mountain before nightfall so I had a safe place to camp for the night. It gets very dark deep in the woods. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">I put my water bottle and the wrapper from my granola bar back in my pack. I hoisted it on my back. </span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">“</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">Lift with the legs.</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">” </span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">The time I had taken to experience the symphony of sound all around me had rejuvenated me for the next leg of my hike. </span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I headed up the trail. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s5" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; font-weight: bold; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Change</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;"></span><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px;"> </span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The trail meandered slowly up the rolling mountain. I could feel the air getting less humid as I ascended the trail. This was welcome because the humid air in the valley was thick. The spotty clouds had broken and the sun shone brightly in the sky. My brief rest had energized me for the last leg of my hike but also put me in the mood to ponder. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">Change is the only constant. That adage kept rolling through my head as I made my way up the trail. It is an age old clich</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">é </span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">and one that almost made me crack a smile at the cheese level but those five short words have so much meaning. Spending time in nature always brings that thought to the surface. As a snapshot, nature is a noun. It is a generic smattering of trees, mountains, rivers, lakes, clouds, and an occasional animal. Experiencing nature is to see it as a verb. A constant act of doing. My brief time listening and noticing reminded me of that. For a time the observer and the observed were one.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">I started to think about how this applies to life in general. In city life there is constant bustle and it is easy to see the change all around us. Maybe it is because of the head down approach to urban living</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">,</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;"> or maybe it can be seen as ego getting in the way</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">,</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;"> or maybe it is the comfort we get from sameness</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">,</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;"> but we don't notice that change. In fact, we get frustrated by it. We take the exact train everyday and if it is late it is tantamount to the world crumbling around us. We go to our favorite restaurant and order the same thing. We even follow the exact same route if we are walking or driving somewhere. There is comfort in sameness. </span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">In change there is an uncomfortable feeling. A feeling of flux, of not knowing. Change takes more energy. There is also an exhilaration. Like jumping out of a plane with only your experience as a parachute. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I had been so lost in thought that I did not notice that I had almost reached the top of the rolling mountain. There was a trail the followed the crest. From my vantage point just off the top I could also see that there was a small man-made shelter at the place where the trail I was on met the trail along the crest. The foliage had definitely changed as I hiked up the mountain. In the valley it was mostly deciduous trees. Up here it was mostly pine trees. The pine scent was refreshing.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I reached the top and came up to the shelter. It was modest but sturdy. Brick shithouse sturdy. It was a short building, maybe just over 6 feet at it's highest. It was made of mortared together river rock and flag stone for three walls and a chain link fence for the fourth; to keep the bears out. The roof was wood shakes. It had a small chimney and fire pit and two wooden bunk beds.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">It was definitely minimal but it would save me having to pitch my tent. The temperature had started to drop as the sun sat low in the sky. I knew sleeping outside would be cold. This would be perfect.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I opened the chain link door and walked in. I could see as I walked up that it was not occupied. If someone came along I'd gladly share with them.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I leaned my pack against the wall and went out for a short walk to find some fire wood. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s5" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; font-weight: bold; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Time</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I didn't have to walk far from the shelter before I came upon a fallen branch. Pine makes good tinder for starting a fire but luckily this was a branch from a harder wood tree. Maybe an oak. Burns longer. It was too big to carry so I stepped hard on it. There was a sharp snapping sound as the branch broke. It was very dry and must have fallen some time ago so it would burn well. I grabbed the piece I had broken off and stood on it as I pulled up snapping it in two. I picked up those two pieces as well as a big handful of pine twigs and headed back to the shelter. It was getting near dusk and I wanted to get to fire started before dark.</span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">When I got back to the shelter I dropped the sticks on the floor and dug around in my backpack for some fire starter sticks I had bought at the camping store. Basically sawdust and paraffin. I knew they were kind of cheating but a quick and easy way to start a fire. I also grabbed the small waterproof box that contained the wooden matches. I put the starter stick in the fire pit and arranged the sticks in a loose lean to on top. One strike of the match and... fire. The sharp crackling sound cut through that still air that was now almost complete devoid of sunlight. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">I fished around in my backpack again a found a flask. Whiskey. A nightcap. I knew I needed to cook dinner but right now I just needed to relax and enjoy the fire. There was a chill in the air and the soreness in my muscles from my hike today was starting to burn. I leaned my backpack against the bunk which was maybe 5 feet from the fire pit and sat down with my back against the pack. I let out an audible sigh, unscrewed the cap from the flask, took a swig of whiskey, and felt the burn down my throat ending in a warm feeling in my stomach. </span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">“</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">Smooth</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">” </span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">I thought in a slightly sarcastic way.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I could feel my body get heavier from fatigue and whiskey. Time seemed to slow down. I could hear the chorus off cricket and the crackling of the fire. I could feel the cool night air interspersed with wafts of warm air from the fire. My mind wandered to the Flow theory of Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. He theorized that there is a finite amount of information our brain can process, so when we are occupied with a task we lose our ability to monitor time. This moment was the opposite of that. My head was clear and I was just watching the licks of flame in the fire. It felt like time had stopped. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">My mind then wandered to the great book by Alan Lightman called Einstein</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">’</span><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px;">s Dreams. In the book each chapter provides a short vignette with one perspective on time. One particular chapter came to mind. The world with no time. Only images. I took another sip from the flask, put on the cap, and closed my eyes. Time had stood still and only the warmth of the fire, the sounds of the crickets, the smell of the burning wood, and the lingering taste of whiskey on my tongue remained.</span></span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I leaned deeper into my backpack and drifted off to sleep. </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="line-height: 21.600000381469727px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p><p class="s4" style="margin: 0px; line-height: 1.2;"><span class="s6" style="line-height: 14.399999618530273px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></p></div>Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-52105701154785598942016-05-10T05:34:00.001-07:002016-05-13T15:59:04.178-07:00Creativity<div><br></div><div>I can claim no actual original ideas here. Concepts of critical thinking go back to Ancient Greece, body and mind as a whole to Charles Darwin, applied specifically to education by visionaries like John Dewey and Maria Montessori, studied by modern neuroscientists like Sian Bielock and Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, and written about by educational philosophers like Sir Ken Robinson to name a few. We have thousands of years of evidence supporting the concept that experiential learning and critical thinking give us a deeper understanding of a topic. I think our current school system and society at large run in stark opposition to this idea. Here are some of my musings as an educator, parent, and life long learner. </div><div><br></div><div>The other day I was driving home and a story came on the radio about how scientists have discovered that peacocks can communicate with infrasonic sound, frequencies below the human hearing range, produced by their tails. The story talked about how this may be true of many species. What this means is that our perception of reality is limited by how we experience it. What this also means is the "truth" we get from our senses might not be the whole truth. When I started to think a bit more about this I found a common thread in many innovations. They all were driven by trying to experience things from a different angle. We would have never known that the peacock was communicating like that if we hadn't have moved outside of our own paradigm. This has been a common thread throughout human history. From the use of the first tool, to the advent of heliocentrism, the printing press, combustion engine, flight, the frisbee, the computer, the smart phone; innovation has always been driven by creativity. </div><div><br></div><div>I think our definition of creativity is kind of amorphous. We look at creativity as some kind of voodoo. We also look at it as something this is relegated to a select few that we call "artists" and we think they are kind of eccentric. The truth is we all use creativity every day. In the aesthetic sense it is making choices like how to comb your hair or dress yourself. How you plant your garden or decorate the room involve creativity. How you choose to season your food counts too. Unfortunately these all fall into the category of aesthetic decisions. I say unfortunately because I feel this is a very limited definition of a much broader concept. By defining it this way we limit it to things our senses experience. It also limits our idea of the types of jobs that require creativity. If we instead think about creativity, or at least an element if it, as a willingness and ability to look at things from a different perspective and make choices therein I think our field of how we experience the world is greatly expanded.</div><div><br></div><div>I tend to ascribe to the belief that our current model of education actually stifles this kind of alternate perspective thinking. This is not a new phenomenon either. Our current model of education was developed in a time when training a workforce with similar skill sets was important to driving the economy. I believe this is no longer true. I was very fortunate to have grown up in a school founded by John Dewey. Learning by doing, critical thinking, collaborative learning, and experiential learning were hallmarks of his educational philosophy. I thought this was just the way school was. When I got to college I met a lot of VERY smart people that didn't know how to think critically. They could spit out the "right" answer but lacked the ability to read and discuss text. I have a distinct memory of sitting in Freshman English and the professor posed a question about book that was not stated explicitly in the text. Crickets. I actually sat there in shock that everyone got a deer in the headlights look in their eyes when they were asked to think critically. Then it occurred to me. It is a skill that needs to be taught like any other.</div><div><br></div><div>By this point you are probably noticing that I am using creativity, critical thinking, and experiential learning interchangeably and maybe even questioning the coherence of this essay. While they are certainly not the same thing I do think that on a base level they all get to a willingness and ability to to look at things from different perspectives. I think the arts are ideal for teaching kids this way of thinking. I also think it can be applied across all subjects. </div><div><br></div><div>In our current climate of excessive testing, removing the arts and humanities in favor of a math and science oriented curriculum, abstract desk learning, and quantitative assessment of students it is no wonder this skill isn't learned. Not only is there no time to teach it but I would argue that thinking critically and creatively is actually taught as a bad thing in favor of a black and white or right and wrong world. We are teaching that being wrong is one of the worst things. As a result we are afraid to look at things in different ways. Learning by doing is about taking chances. Creative thinking isn't just limited to the arts and humanities. Innovation has always been driven by out of the box thinking. My fear is that, by teaching kids there is one right and one wrong answer, we are inadvertently stifling their drive to innovate. </div><div><br></div><div>Sir Ken Robinson points out in his book Out of Our Minds that there is no way we can anticipate the kinds of concrete skills children will need when they get out of school. The world and technology are moving too fast. What I think we can do is cultivate the concepts of critical thinking, creativity, and willingness to look at things from a different perspective. Learning to learn. </div><div><br></div><div>Remember our friend the peacock. His view of reality is based on his experience. As humans we have the ability to think abstractly outside our paradigm. That requires that we see our experience as just that. A paradigm. One that can be altered.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i>Originally published in The Chicago Progessive. Archives can be viewed at www.thechicagoprogressive.com. </i></span></div></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-77127885272798992932015-10-06T07:20:00.001-07:002015-10-06T09:37:17.344-07:0015<div>"Only a madman is absolutely sure" Robert Anton Wilson </div><div><br></div><div>Recently I took the time to read through all my previous posts. I have a running theme of balance and am trying my best to have a, albeit broad, thesis. I thought it important to go back and see how many loose ends I didn't tie up. To my pleasant surprise and dismay I've done a pretty good job, save one huge point. In my opening post I said the three types of balance I was going to discuss were physical, mental, and spiritual. I spent a few posts on aspects of physical and mental balance and even digressed into other pontifications on balance all while skillfully avoiding the topic of spiritual balance. Part of the reason is there are several discreet definitions to the word spiritual. The other reason is it is a very personal subject and has different meaning for each person. I did quite a bit of research on the topic and seem to have distilled it, in least in my own mind, to two distinct types. More than that I distilled down to two verbs, being and doing. </div><div><br></div><div>The first definition of spiritual that I encountered was defining it as "from spirit". The Divine, ghosts, the Great Juju. I'm intentionally staying away from references to any specific religions because I don't want to make this about a specific set of dogma. The important thing is these spirits are a personified outside being and require some kind of communing with be it through prayer, worship, tithe, services, rituals, etc. These are all acts of doing. I think that the "being" part of spirituality can also be experienced in a religious context but it is something that is achieved. I also think we need to be careful of thinking of spiritual and religious as synonymous thus limiting the definition of spiritual.</div><div><br></div><div>The second definition I came upon was spiritual as a state unto itself. An act of being. The problem I kept finding with this concept is that an act of "being spiritual" requires the opposite, being "not spiritual." It makes spiritual some kind of mushy other worldly thing and again implies a location. That idea almost seems to contradict itself. Trying to just be. I started to think of the idea of reality as a multiverse of intersecting subjective experiences and thought that maybe an idea of spirituality is just being in touch with our own experience and how it intersects with what Robert Anton Wilson calls other "reality tunnels." </div><div><br></div><div>So how does the idea of balance fit with this? It seems to me that whatever definition of spiritual you choose to use the balance occurs between our outer self and our inner experiences. We have an outward experience and integrate it into our inward understanding of reality. I think an imbalance comes when we rely too much on our internal understanding such that we become inflexible. Leon Festinger calls this cognitive dissonance in his landmark work When Prophecy Fails. We try to find some way to get experiences to fit with our understanding even if that means dismissing or discrediting them. I think an imbalance can happen the opposite way too resulting in a lack of conviction and drive. Apathy. Our understanding of the world is ever changing and influenced by previous experience whether we like it or not. The key I think is being aware of that fact and being flexible to evolve. </div><div><br></div><div>Over the years I have come across the name Trigant Burrow a bunch of times. He was a psychologist in the early part of the 20th century and is important in the field of group therapy and the a early thinker in the field of neurodynamics I think. I decided it was time to read some of his stuff. I quickly found out that his work was way above my pay grade. I'm just a musician. I'm probably way over simplifying or even misinterpreting his work. If so I apologize in advance. That said there was one big take away even in my limited understanding; his concept of cotention. Another one of the concepts he talks about are what he calls preconscious. He wrote a book called Preconscious Foundations in Human Experience. Again above my pay grade but interestingly many activities like music, art, poetry, as well as "mystical experiences" are manifestations of preconscious processes. In the book he argues that basically preconscious processes are those that we are born with. In his theory, over the course of human evolution, we have developed a higher order consciousness in order to adapt to our environment. This has actually served to suppress the preconscious mind. </div><div><br></div><div>Two concepts that Burrow introduced then are "cotension" and "ditension". Basically "ditension" emphasizes the division of the observer and the observed (self and other) and is brought on by higher order thought. "Cotension" refers to the way the preconscious mind experiences. Unity, connectedness, completeness, continuity with everything. </div><div><br></div><div>So how does this fit with my idea of spiritual balance or even a definition of spiritual. In my mind part of what we are attempting with any spiritual experience be it prayer, meditation, even a hike in the woods is to get back to that preconscious mind. I also see that preconscious mind as flexible. Babies are born mentally flexible. Maybe then spiritual balance has to do with a balance of the cotentive and ditentive mind? Perhaps. Or maybe it is just acknowledging that a connectedness exists.</div><div><br></div><div>Last week there was a total eclipse of the super moon. The event was outstandingly beautiful and beyond words. The thing that really struck me though was pictures and posts about it dominated social media. Many of my neighbors were out watching it. It was the #1 topic of conversation the next morning. It felt like, even for a fleeting moment, we were acknowledging a connection with each other and with the whole of experience. Preconscious. Cotentive. To me that is spiritual. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LyHm4hc8-g0/VhP4vAUmppI/AAAAAAAAAWg/kPwq2KUso7c/s640/blogger-image--1745031213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LyHm4hc8-g0/VhP4vAUmppI/AAAAAAAAAWg/kPwq2KUso7c/s640/blogger-image--1745031213.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div>Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-55575378011512655032015-07-04T07:16:00.001-07:002015-07-04T07:16:37.248-07:0014<div>An Egoist Argument for Being Kind</div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div><br></div><div>We live in a time where instant gratification is paramount. It rules almost every part of our lives whether it be travel, food, data transfer, phone calls, the weather. We want everything fast. Like NOW fast. The problem with thinking like this is it can also be pretty selfish. Being first is often accompanied by a total disregard for everyone else. In the immortal words of Ricky Bobby, "If you're not first, you're last." This seems to be the motto of many modern day Americans. In that spirit I am going to lay out an argument for being kind for completely selfish reasons. </div><div><br></div><div>When I started formulating this argument in my head I kept coming back to several pieces I had read years ago about a philosophical concept called egoism. There are several kinds of egoism and the differentiation of type mostly deals with the variety of motivations for being selfish. One type of Egoism is called Ethical Egoism. Ethical Egoism has always intrigued me. It deals specifically with the idea that we do what we believe is morally "right" in the interest of making ourselves feel good. Basically doing things that we believe to be good gives us warm fuzzies. Additionally it states that actions whose consequences will benefit the doer can be classified as ethical. </div><div><br></div><div>A topic that is so brilliantly explored in many films by the Coen Brothers is the relativity of morality. Each person has a moral code but they are flexible, they evolve, and they ultimately benefit the practitioner. I also think that our ability to evolve morally is an important part of what makes us human.</div><div><br></div><div>I am by no means a neuroscientist but we know that we are basically big chemistry sets. All the time the feelings and emotions we have are caused by or cause a release of chemicals in the brain. Feelings of happiness and well being have a specific set of chemicals associated with them. Remember the warm fuzzies we get from being kind to someone? Chemicals. Also the flexibility of morals allows our brain to release the same chemicals for a variety of reasons. In the crudest sense we are drug addicts looking for a fix. </div><div><br></div><div>So basically here is my contention. We can be kind because we are selfish jerks. We can be kind to make the world a better place because we don't want to live in a world full of a**holes. We can be kind for the chemical high. Whatever you see as the motivation... be kind. </div><div> </div><div><br></div>Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-27924910009514919382015-04-15T06:03:00.001-07:002015-04-15T06:03:50.360-07:0013<div>I challenge myself every year to relate everything back to a word or concept. Last year it was clarity. This year it is balance. I don't do new year's resolutions but have found it much more interesting to think of a word or concept and relate ideas back to it. To that end I've been pondering the concept of ontological guilt or anxiety as it relates to balance. It's been a while since I've studied Existentialism but basically ontological guilty is a concept where our ability to choose (free will) brings with it guilt or regret or anxiety. Did I make the right choice? What if? Anyone who has experienced buyer's remorse understands this concept on a more concrete level. There are also other sources of said guilt such as Interpersonal guilt which comes from our awareness of our subjectivity and inability to truly understand another person or our guilt about our relationship with nature.</div><div><br></div><div>Obviously this is a HUGE concept to talk about here but let's see what I can tackle in roughly 500 words.</div><div><br></div><div>To this point I have defined balance as an active state. I introduced a concept I coined the "fluid normal." I talked about empathy as a function of being in the present. I also talked about fear and anxiety being caused by too much willful will and not trusting yourself to the water of fluidity. I also talked about "yes, and" and life as a grand improvisation. The common thread to all of these is uncertainty which is the very definition of ontological guilt and anxiety. It is part of the function of the human mind to find order in chaos. This is mostly based on patterns. The mind learns what probably will happen. I think this almost happens to the point where we forget that the universe, at least in my opinion, is chaotic. The anomalies are sources of cognitive dissonance and a reminder that we do actually have free will and that we don't have all the answers.</div><div><br></div><div>I think part of the response this creates is that we all walk around feeling guilty. It also doesn't help that our government and many religions are fraught with rules that are impossible to follow to the letter. In some religions people are even taught that we are all sinners: all guilty. As a consequence even the most pious person feels "guilty" of something. The #1 overused expression in the English language is "I'm sorry." If a word gets used to much it ceases to have meaning. I fear this has happened with apologies. </div><div><br></div><div>The consequence of all this guilt in my opinion is we are never truly living in the present. I find it a funny paradox because "mindfulness" and "being present" have become buzz words. Kind of a western neo-Buddhist thought. We try to talk of being present, but all the while different aspects of society pile on guilt. The reason why I see this as a paradox is guilt is necessarily feeling regret about what you have done (past) and feeling anxiety about the choices you will make (future). With all this attention to the past and future I think it is impossible to be in the present.</div><div><br></div><div>I'll leave you with one final thought about a source of guilt. I think the core of many of these rules and law are to conquer base human traits. While some of this is important for a functioning society others are completely out of our control. Feeling guilty because you covet a piece of cake, or buy something that you think is too fancy, or have lustful thoughts about someone, or drive a little too fast, or spend too much time on social media, or order the 1/2 lb burger instead of the 1/4 lb. To me these are all attempts to get one up on the universe. That pursuit is a noble one in my opinion but it has unintended consequences. One that immediately pops to mind is it creates a moral high ground. This is fine but this moral high ground is often used to throw stones. To judge. Basically we are giving the individual, ourselves, license to be yet another source of guilt for others in an attempt to absolve ourselves of guilt. I actually have a little chuckle when I think of this because trying to get an advantage on the universe is a futile pursuit because you're it. You can't get one up on yourself. </div><div><br></div><div>My takeaway from this and my thoughts as it applies to balance? I try to have my feelings about actions be driven by the intention behind the action. To me this is where the juicy stuff is. </div>Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-34169530056242959502015-03-25T05:23:00.001-07:002015-03-25T05:23:59.757-07:0012<div>
Two weeks ago I talked a little about meditation. I didn't post last week because I was on vacation. This week I'm going to share a few techniques I've found useful. I have no expertise or certification in the practice. I have 20 years of personal experience, so take what I say with that in mind. Remember my idea of meditation is really just spending some time alone with your thoughts and noticing; whatever that means to you. I prefer sitting meditation in the fairly traditional sense but I have also found similar benefit in other activities. I used to be a pretty serious cyclist and I have definitely reached a reflective place being on a bike for extended amounts of time. Also, as a musician, there is a certain meditative quality to playing, though in an ensemble setting it is a much more active group meditation. I just got home from a fishing trip in the Gulf of Mexico and while I am by no means a serious fisherman I can definitely see how an activity like that can be very meditative. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The first technique that I use is a connection with my breath. This can be as simple as just regulating our breath with a simple count on the inhale and exhale. Basically exhale fully. Inhale and count the time it takes to inhale. Match your exhale. Wash, rinse, repeat. In yoga this is called sama vritti breathing or equal breath. There are a whole variety of breathing exercises and I won't go into them here. What I will say is that whenever I find myself in the process of finding a meditative place or needing to re-center myself I go straight to focusing on breath. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Connection with breath can also be used in movement activities. In yoga this is called vinyasa. Breath syncronized movement. A connection with breath can be part of any activity. I have runner friends that talk about it. I know I used to do it cycling. It can really be part of any activity.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The next step for me is to let my mind do what it does. Some accounts of meditation call it a quieting of the mind. The problem with trying to quiet the mind is the act of trying is getting in the way. What I do instead is "try" to get out of the way and let my mind go where it may. In this place I just notice. One of the benefits I find of this activity is it allows me to experience thoughts as almost a third person observer. One visual metaphor that I've enjoyed is thinking of thoughts as leaves falling off a tree into a stream. As the thought comes just observe it, then watch it "float" away in the stream. At first I thought this metaphor was a little new age touchy feely but I have really come to enjoy it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Another interesting technique is to do the opposite and try to focus on sounds in the environment. I find this easiest to do if there aren't any prevailing sounds like a lawn mower or construction noise. An activity I enjoy is to try to direct your hearing to different distances from your body. Start with noticing body sounds, then room sounds, then house sounds, then street sounds, then beyond. You can hear some pretty crazy stuff. You also notice that there are lots of sounds around us all the time that we filter out.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'll tell a funny story. I get frequent MRIs of my head and spine as part of the aftermath of my brain surgery and monitoring of lesion activity as a result of MS. Anyone who has had an MRI knows they are loud. Really loud. Also many of the sounds they make are similar to the sounds we've been conditioned since birth to equate with danger. All manner of siren type sounds. The machine even shakes and vibrates. The sounds are also rhythmic which makes it interesting to try to sync breath with them. The techs will "narrate" the MRI basically introducing each scan. I've had so many I just tell them to plow through it and skip the talking. About 3/4 of the way though the 45 minute test they come and inject me with a gadolinium contrast to see if there is any new tumor or lesion activity. In order to do this they have to take you out of the machine for a minute. Now, often people are a little anxious about the whole thing and I can see why but I actually have grown to enjoy them. You are forced to spend 45 minutes alone with your thoughts. So the funny part. The tech comes in and rolls my little bed out of the machine and I am in a pretty deep meditative state and he says "are you actually relaxed in that thing?" My reply... "yup." </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So I offer to you my thoughts on meditation. It is not a big thing and there is no wrong way. For me the most distracting thought I can have is "am I doing this right?" If there is no wrong way then guess what... you are. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-46346461178085312342015-03-11T06:25:00.000-07:002015-03-11T06:25:29.021-07:0011<br />
“Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition.” –Steve Jobs<br />
<br />
This week I am going a little of script. In previous posts I have talked about different kinds of balance. Being non-judgmental. Allowing fluidity to what you consider your baseline or normal. Pondering a ‘fluid normal’ is a fun mental exercise but at some point it feels a little like the “dancing about architecture” thing. Getting your mind to that place is quite a different story. Here are my practical observations.<br />
<br />
Let me preface this with the notion that I have always had a severe allergic reaction to dogma. Dogma is merely a principle or set of principles laid down by an authority as incontrovertibly true. As the quote above states this is living someone else’s truth or life. We often think of dogma in the context of religion but it can definitely be applied to secular things too. Anything that has a prevailing paradigm has dogma. It is not necessarily insidious. This definition encompasses many of the things we come into contact with. Rather than get on a soapbox I wanted to just preface my experiences with meditation with the idea that anything can have dogma. <br />
<br />
So what is meditation? We often think of mediation as some kind of mystical experience that involves sitting on the floor, twisting up like a pretzel, closing your eyes, and listening to tapes of waves crashing while incense and candle burn. We buy stuff, maybe a special pillow or special meditation clothes. We buy books and tapes. We even go places to take classes in how to do it. I have been practicing meditation on and off for 20 years and while that stuff can help none of it <i>is</i> meditation. I find it actually a little antithetical to what we want from a meditation practice. I’ll elaborate later but this is where the idea of dogma comes in for me. Americans are very good at thinking that there are steps and technique in “doing it right”. If we don’t follow those steps we are “doing it wrong” and “failing”. That is the beauty of what meditation is for me. There is no right or wrong. That creates a severe case of cognitive dissonance in a culture that has been taught from the time we were children that there is right and wrong and that’s it. <br />
<br />
Unfortunately that gets us no closer to understanding what it is. I think, at the core, meditation is just being alone with your thoughts. I think one of the common misconceptions about meditation is that it is about learning to control your mind. In my experience it is quite the contrary. It is about learning to get out of your own way. What the heck does that mean? That is where this dogma idea comes in for me. If the idea of meditating is to get out of our own way, dogma is actually putting steps IN the way. Technique. Levels. Steps. Gear. Stuff. <br />
<br />
The number one thing I hear from people considering mediation is that they “don’t know how to do it”. So they take a class. They buy a book or a tape. They seek out a guru (who you jivin’). They grade themselves based on how long they can stay sitting. I remember distinctly being in a conversation where everyone was standing around comparing how long they meditate for. I don’t think people were intending to brag but they were measuring and comparing. We’re good at that. So we do things to “push” ourselves to sit longer. Longer is better, right? I’ll be more relaxed and centered, right? Stress melts away, right? I’m get one up on this life thing, right?<br />
<br />
All I can relate here is my own experience. By saying this line of thinking is right or wrong would contradict my central theme. All these thoughts are valid and important. Any ‘steps’ are valid and important. But to me that is what meditation is. It is whatever comes up. Noticing. For me it can be a sitting meditation but I also feel like I get the same benefit out of going for a bike ride or walk, listening to music, taking a shower, gardening, cooking, even mowing the lawn or doing chores. I find when I get out of my own way my mind comes up with some pretty wild stuff, like the ‘<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TjjbyxOqmP0" target="_blank">bacon</a>’ movie or this post. <br />
<br />
So what is meditation? Whatever works for you.<br />
<br />
In my own meditation, when I notice I’m trying not to try, I start laughing.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-26303836228914852082015-03-03T05:43:00.001-08:002015-03-04T04:29:05.251-08:00Trilogy<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Trilogy</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br>
Like many restless minds before me I was at the point in my life where I could no longer see the point of it all. I found myself asking the big questions. What is my purpose in the universe? What is the meaning of life? I didn't know how to begin answering these questions so my mind went back to stories from my childhood and tales of ancient heroes. One problem. I didn't know of any dragons to slay, any damsels to rescue, any towns being terrorized by a horrible beast, or any souls trapped in the underworld. So much for that. I decided to look for meaning in the meaningless. The benign. My shoulders slumped but then an old adage popped to mind, "breakfast is the most important meal of the day". Maybe that's it. I know mom is always right. My quest began.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I started where all quests should, at the beginning. Every morning for the past eight years my day has started my getting my son a bowl of his favorite breakfast cereal. Wait. Cereal. Serial. Cereal. Serial. It can't be that easy. Could the meaning of life be hidden in homophones? I set to work combining the two concepts. Breakfast cereal and the Serialist style of composition made popular by Schoenberg, Stockhausen, Webern, and Berg. The twists and turns of dealing with each type of cereal/serial started to give me a glimmer of insight into the strings that bind everything but I still found myself feeling empty. Fine. Everything is connected. So what? With a pounding headache I took an aspirin and decided to go to yoga class. Yoga has always helped me find some stillness.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/EOyTaka_Z9M" width="420"></iframe>
</span><br>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br>
That day the yoga class was particularly intense (which sounds like an oxymoron to non-yoga folk) so I decided to stop over at a breakfast place close to the yoga studio after class. I had brought a backpack with me that had a book and some manuscript paper in it. A waitress came and filled my coffee cup. I got out my book and started reading. I must have gotten sucked in because the waitress came back and asked if I was ready to order. I hadn’t taken a look at the menu yet so she topped off my coffee cup and left. After a quick glance at the menu I chose what I was going to order. When the waitress returned I placed my order and she topped off my coffee cup. I relaxed back into my booth and started reading </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">again. I was feeling very at peace for the first time today.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After about 15 minutes the waitress returned with my order and warmed up my coffee again. I ate my breakfast. When I was finished I pulled out the manuscript paper and began to think. I was hoping to be struck with inspiration but no ideas were really coming to me. The waitress returned to get my plate, topped off my coffee, left my check and headed back to the kitchen.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By now I was starting to feel the effects of the coffee. I stared at the manuscript paper. As caffeine is known to do it was starting to make my eyes dart back and forth and it made tracking the five little black lines on the paper difficult. I was still feeling the after glow of the yoga class and I was in a state of inner peace but my body was definitely not at peace at all. I’m not sure how much coffee I drank but I was starting the sweat and my feet were shuffling.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Suddenly the humor in the strange juxtaposition of those two feelings hit me all at once. I had a deep sense of inner peace but was very caffeinated. I laughed out loud. Fueled by prana and caffeine I put pencil to paper. In about 15 minutes I had it. The piece I was hoping for. Caffeinated Om. After I was done I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. Was coffee and yoga the answer? Something was still missing. I was hoping coffee and yoga would give life meaning and it had helped but alas...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/6SxdNjtbgVQ" width="420"></iframe>
</span><br>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br>
As heroes are want to do I decided it was time to return to the source. A physical quest into the deep dark woods. What did I hope to find there? I wasn't sure but I was determined to find out. I bundled up and headed out into the snowy forest armed with only my iPhone and my earnest curiosity. My quest took me deep into the woods. The journey was hard. It was cold and the snow was deep. What I found there changed my life forever but I also got more than I bargained for. I had found the meaning of life but was I ready to see the truth? Was I prepared to see the interconnectedness of everything in the universe? Was I ready to wake up?</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/TjjbyxOqmP0" width="420"></iframe></span><br>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">as printed in <a href="http://www.thechicagoprogressive.com/" target="_blank">The Chicago Progressive</a></span>Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-49007734151209720912015-02-25T06:57:00.001-08:002015-02-25T06:57:47.097-08:0010<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Template>Normal</o:Template>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>556</o:Words>
<o:Characters>3173</o:Characters>
<o:Company>University of Chicago </o:Company>
<o:Lines>26</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>6</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>3896</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>10.1316</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:UseMarginsForDrawingGridOrigin/>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #131313; font-family: Arial;">“If you are depressed you are living in the past. If you are
anxious you are living in the future. If you are at peace you are living in the
present.” Lao Tzu<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Over the
course of the past couple of weeks, in various things that I've been reading, I've come across the concept of empathy. I decided to research the
topic further and found myself WAY out of my depth. I had assumed there was quite a bit
of research on it but not as much as I found. Initially this made me feel
overwhelmed but then a question popped to mind. Why is this? I think it might
be because we have this idea in our culture of empathy as some kind of magic
power. Maybe the volumes and reams of writings on it are an attempt to show
that it is not magic at all. The common thread in many of the things I read though is
that empathy, in the simplest sense, just means identifying someone else's
feelings or emotions and relating them back to your own. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">As Brené
Brown so eloquently stated, there is difference between sympathy and empathy.
In her words “empathy drives connection and sympathy drives
disconnection.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In other words
sympathy is being an outside observer. Empathy is putting yourself in someone
else’s shoes. Sian Bielock talks about the concept in terms of embodied
cognition in that emotions contain outwardly visible cues and part of empathy
is reading and identifying with someone else’s “body language.” In her research
she talks about how being able to identify with someone’s feelings actually
makes our brain behave similarly to having those feelings ourselves. Think of
being embarrassed for someone or being sad for someone that you don’t even
know. This is not a detached “feeling sorry” (i.e. sympathy). In these cases
you are putting yourself in the shoes of the other person and actually feeling sad
or embarrassed on a chemical level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> This goes for positive emotions too. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
When I think about what all of this has in common with my
concept of the “fluid normal” it is about being present. When I talk about
being present I'm not talking about it as some sort of mystical meditative
present. I'm thinking it was more of it in terms of the Lao Tzu quote above.
Living in the past or the future means you are not being observant of the
present. Remember from a past post I talked about how Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi
found that the brain has a finite amount of processing power. Spending
brainpower thinking about the past and future takes away from the attention you
can spend on the present.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Spending
more brainpower on the present can mean seeing something in another person but
more importantly in might mean seeing something in yourself that you can
reflect on and relate to others. If your emotional reaction to things is muted,
then so will be your ability to be empathetic to the feeling in someone
else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyText" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">As a digression, I think smartphones are an empathy killer... but there is probably an app for that.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">So then
empathy is not magic at all. Quite the contrary. I think we see it as some sort
of witchcraft because we are so disconnected with the present that our ability
to see ourselves in others is compromised.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Remember, we are all sides of the same coin or reflections
of each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a great
Alan Watts quote, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: ArialMT;">“the relationship of self to other is the complete
realization that loving yourself is impossible without loving everything
defined as other than yourself.”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"> To me love in this context is not an “I
Love You” kind of love but rather a love of the moment.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Brené Brown talks about it as
experiencing the moment non-judgmentally.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Think of love then as a non-judgmental acceptance of the moment.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">This certainly doesn’t mean that you
have to LIKE every moment, but the moment is the moment and you can only
influence the future by how you deal with the now.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">In all of
this the key in my mind is being in the moment with yourself. This deepens your connection with others. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</div>
</div>
<!--EndFragment--></div>
<div>
<!--EndFragment--></div>
Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-42303943645080093812015-02-17T22:16:00.001-08:002015-02-18T04:30:18.600-08:00baconDue to the long weekend and rug rats with no school I was unable to properly proofread and edit my next post. As a place holder I offer you a shot of my laptop screen previewing my upcoming short film "bacon".<div><br></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-pC51B4QWFe0/VOQuMtPPvFI/AAAAAAAAAFE/fVgG2NlVDgE/s640/blogger-image-1460468688.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-pC51B4QWFe0/VOQuMtPPvFI/AAAAAAAAAFE/fVgG2NlVDgE/s640/blogger-image-1460468688.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-55219217152236034102015-02-11T05:37:00.001-08:002015-02-11T06:52:59.513-08:009<div>Finding Peace in Fluidity</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"The web of life is a beautiful and meaningless dance. The web of life is a process with a moving goal. The web of life is a perfectly finished work of art right where I am sitting now." -Robert Anton Wilson</span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p></div><div>As you've likely figured out if you have been following is this series of essays is that they are really about nothing. Absurdism. A universe without meaning or purpose. Or a universe with infinite meaning and purpose. Yin-Yang. The idea of nothing implies everything and vice versa. Ow. I already need an aspirin and a coffee. </div><div><br></div><div>One of the most disconcerting yet empowering things about acknowledging the fluid normal is just that. It is fluid, ever changing, and we can never know with 100% certainty what will come next. Anyone that has gotten 'that phone call that has changed everything' knows the feeling. Our ideas of what the future holds are based on what we have experienced in the past. It also means that the future holds infinite possibilities. As the adage goes, all that truly exists is the present. </div><div><br></div><div>Hold on a second. Is this turning into some new age, neo-Buddhist, hippie, "you gotta go with the flow man", rant? Nah. Well, not exactly. Let me explain where this comes from for me.</div><div><br></div><div>Over the years I have spoken with many people that are either dealing with similar brain surgery or Multiple Sclerosis. In either case the two most common feelings that come up are anger and fear. Every feeling is valid and an important part of wrapping our mind around it but that's the thing. Wrapping your mind around something, even as a turn of phrase, implies mastery. There is no mastery of the fluid normal. </div><div><br></div><div>One of my favorite Alan Watts quotes is "To have faith is to trust yourself to the water. When you swim you don't grab hold of the water, because if you do you will sink and drown. Instead you relax, and float." To me this faith he refers to so not a faith in something external but a faith in yourself. However long you've been here you have been dealing with reality just fine. I think that is the definition of being in the present. Not worrying about the past or the future and having faith or a better word "trust" that you will deal with whatever when it comes, good or bad. </div><div><br></div><div>Man. This is getting all Zen and stuff now. Well, kinda. I'm by no means any kind of authority in anything really. I play the bass gud and write some nice tunes and stuff. That is my favorite thing about some of these concepts. Many philosophies and religions are looking for answers from some external force. Here we are more thinking about the answers, or lack there of, being in you all along.</div><div><br></div><div>One of the most noggin blowing texts I've read is a little book called Zen in the Art of Archery by Eugen Herrigel. In the book Eugen, German professor of philosophy, is teaching in Japan and attempts to "study" Zen but goes on quite a different journey than he expected. You see, we have this idea that study of something should give us mastery over it. That is assuming that this illusive something is external and can be mastered. </div><div><br></div><div>Two quotes have really stuck with me over the years from this book. </div><div> </div><div> "Be like a child holding a finger. It grips it so firmly that one marvels at the strength of the tiny fist. And when it lets go there is not the slightest jerk. Do you know why? Because the child does not think 'I will let go of the finger and grasp another thing'. Completely unselfconsciously, without purpose it turns from one to the other..."</div><div><br></div><div>"The right art is purposeless and aimless. The more obstinately you try to learn how to shoot the arrow for the sake of hitting the goal the less you will succeed. What stands in the way is you too much willful will. You think that what you do not do yourself will not happen"</div><div><br></div><div>Willful will. So these feelings of fear and anxiety come from the concept of too much willful will. I find the last two lines of the second quote particularly interesting. The concept of 'willful will' and the concept of essentially trying to micromanage everything. Like I've said before the only thing you can really control is your conscious self. The anxiety and fear comes when events don't play out in your head as you predicted them too. Trust yourself to the water or the fluidity of reality as it were and have faith you'll know what to do with the future when you get there.</div><div><br></div><div>Or maybe not. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ABwESM2DrHY/VNthkdUB_1I/AAAAAAAAAE0/0rStzOxlYNw/s640/blogger-image--747363623.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ABwESM2DrHY/VNthkdUB_1I/AAAAAAAAAE0/0rStzOxlYNw/s640/blogger-image--747363623.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div>Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-41824659206977873632015-02-04T06:02:00.003-08:002015-02-04T06:06:57.761-08:00winterIn honor of the winter weather we've been having I put together a slideshow of winter photos from my Instagram. The photo resolutions aren't great because they are from Instagram but hope you enjoy. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/zN6uoDTksc0/0.jpg" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/zN6uoDTksc0?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<br />Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-45285435249165844212015-01-28T08:18:00.001-08:002015-01-29T06:02:59.161-08:008<div>
Finding Humor in Absurdity</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Have no fear of perfection. You'll never reach it." -<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Salvador Dali</span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There are millions and millions of bits of information coming at you every instant. From time to time you are going to do something different than what you intended. You have to. The trick is how you deal with it. I think the first part of this is reconciling the fact that you are taking in and processing a fantastic amount of information and the way you are dealing with the majority of it is just fine. The problem is that since we take those automatic functions for granted the focus then falls on the things we see as anomalies. Remember there is a chaotic (random) quality to the information our brain is trying to reconcile. Compound this with the fact that 'normal' is 'fluid' and we have the ingredients for being self critical all the time. The other part is not necessarily looking at what you perceive as a misstep as an error that cannot be erased but rather something that can be added on to. Yes and and all that. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In a philosophical sense "absurd" refers to the conflict between our attempt to find inherent value and meaning in life and our inability to find said properties. Absurdity is a human construct. I see it as less of a judgement and more as a recognition. I think it is important to notice and learn to laugh at ourselves. Objective reality (not perceived) (which might not even exist) and the human mind (perceived) do not each separately cause things to appear absurd. It is in the relationship between the two. As a philosophy, absurdism just says that our attempts to find meaning and logic will ultimately fail because of the sheer amount of information and the amazing amount of things we aren't even aware of thus making total certainty impossible. So basically we exist in a universe without meaning or purpose. Depressing. But wait. Is it? If we go back to the idea of an "objective reality" and add the notion that each of us is experiencing reality in a different way, we come to the idea that we are really dealing with a multiverse of subjective perceptions. Crap. That doesn't make it better. Or does it? I think that if we rid ourselves of the ideas of an ultimate truth and that we are imperfect beings we get to a point where we see that everyone's "normal" or experience is fluid. One of the definitions of absurd is "impossible to take seriously, silly". We laugh at silly stuff. Keep that in the back of your mind and see how it changes your reality.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I think if we learn to laugh at ourselves we start to deal with our judgement of ourselves. Then it all comes down to intention. Since what we experience is random and our perception is subjective and influenced by experience the only way to reach common ground with another person is to strip away the result of the action and look at the intention behind it. Think of getting a gift. You open the box and when you see it you aren't totally happy because it is a wrong color. The disappointment is natural. Acknowledge and embrace it. If you strip away the action and look at the intention however you see that the person was expressing their positive feelings for you. Now think of a car accident. Of course our initial reaction is that of heighten self-awareness. Fight or flight. Do you think the other person, no matter how much you dislike them in the moment, really meant to hit you? Conversely stripping away action lets us see if the intention was malicious and we can be more prepared to deal with it accordingly. This also allows us to be less judgmental of ourselves. Truthfully we are usually our own harshest critical, or at least I am. If we strip away action and look at intention I think it allows us to assess how to more clearly express our intention the next time.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In the immortal words of Miles Davis "Do not fear mistakes, there are none." Of course he is talking about music and probably jazz improvisation more specifically. As I said in an earlier post though life is an improvisation. If we keep "yes, and" as our intention and not fear an illusive and non-existent perfection we lose at least some fear of mistakes. For me that goes a long way to not always feeling like you fell short. A judgment. Oh and reserve apologies for when intention and action were way off. In another wise Miles Davis quote "If you understood everything I say, you'd be me!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-70045430042675204262015-01-21T09:39:00.001-08:002015-01-21T09:39:10.045-08:007<div>
I am going to go off on a bit of a tangent from the last post. This week I started reading a book about embodied cognition by a psychologist at the University of Chicago named Sian Beilock called How the Body Knows Its Mind. I am by no means a psychologist but I am a well read guy and have always been a psychology enthusiast. I am very much enjoying the book. I am not even going to try to summarize her research, you should read the book, but just know that the scientific evidence is mounting that there is a strong connection between body and mind and that we learn more effectively by doing. This notion is particularly interesting to me for two reasons. First, as a child I attended a school based on the principles of progressive education and learning by doing. Second, both of the major health incidents, brain surgery and MS, have affected movement for me in one way or another. Those incidents have made me reflect deeply on the mind/body connection. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I attended the University of Chicago Laboratory Schools from 3rd-12th grade. The school was founded in 1896 by John Dewey. Dewey is considered the father of progressive education in America. The whole idea of experiential learning is central to Dewey's philosophy. Later in life I came to read Dewey and found that he also rejected dualism in favor of the idea of a unified whole. This is a slightly different kind of dualism than I talked about in a previous post but philosophically similar. The dualist idea in this case is that the mind controls the body and the the body is merely the machine that transports the mind. This model has been the prominent for a very long time, still is today, and draws its lineage back to Descartes and earlier. Dewey felt the opposite. He felt it was important to treat the mind/body as a unified whole. When I read this I was a blown away. I had always had a deep down feeling that the mind and body operated as a whole but I didn't realize until I actually read it that that was one of the philosophies that guided my education. The other ideas that have really stuck with me are critical thinking and collaboration. I'll go into those more later.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It is very interesting applying this idea of a mind/body connection when there is an electrical break in the connection. Even when we think of the mind and body as connected we are still looking at series of mechanical systems all working together... or are we? As I said earlier, there have been several instances in my life where this connection has been mechanically severed. I'll focus on two here. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
First. In the case of my brain surgery the resection of the acoustic neuroma resulted in several nerves being disturbed or severed. The first was the one that controlled hearing in my right ear. It was severed and I lost hearing in that ear. I tell kids when they ask how I lost my hearing that "they had to cut the wire". The nerves that control blinking, tear production, and muscle control on the right side of my face were disturbed. Basically the right side of my face was paralyzed and my eye didn't completely close. The nerves regenerated though not quite to where they were before the surgery. I still have to use eye drops because my eye no longer produces tears, my right eye closes slower than my left, and my smile is crooked.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Second. There have been several incidences where Multiple Sclerosis has caused movement issues. First a quick and dirty overview of MS. In one of the earlier sections I talked about myelin cells that surround the nerve. These cells aid in the transmission of electrical signals in the nerves. MS is an autoimmune disease where your immune system attacks these myelin cells. The problem is that once these cells are damaged the electric signals are slowed down or stopped. All kind of things can happen from mobility issues to memory to mood. Nerve signals are the link from the brain to the body. In my case the two biggies were an incident where I temporarily lost control of the lower part of my left leg and the other was seizure type episodes called tonic spasms where my body would lock up. In both of these cases the signals my brain was sending were not making it to my muscles to tell them to either relax or contract.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I know. The initial reaction upon reading this is "how horrible that must have been.". I'm not going to lie. There are things I'd rather have done for sure. But I also don't want sympathy. The whole idea of the fluid normal is being in the moment whatever it may be. If you can have your ego take a back seat and observe nonjudgmentally, every moment has something to show you. I tried to look at it from a non-dualist perspective. The gambit creates the human experience.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So how does this relate to embodied cognition? Since I'm not terribly knowledgable on the topic I'm not going to speak to it directly. I do however know a few things that might relate. I've always been aware that the mind/body connection is strong. When we apply this to my concept of a fluid normal though it becomes apparent that since "normal" is ever changing for everyone the connection is not how effectively the mind and body are connected in a quantitative, qualitative, and electrical sense. It is acknowledgment of the mind/body as a whole. You. You don't just exist couple inches behind your eyes. The examples I gave above from my life are extreme but we all have to deal with days where the connection on a mechanical level isn't as strong. But, you see, "strong" is a qualitative judgment and is dualist. Strong/weak. Lose judgment. Lose dualism. What's left? Being human. The mind/body connection must not just be electrical. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-LCAq5AnlheA/VL-z8Ca1AxI/AAAAAAAAAEk/dRm-JUONg00/s640/blogger-image-262055233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-LCAq5AnlheA/VL-z8Ca1AxI/AAAAAAAAAEk/dRm-JUONg00/s640/blogger-image-262055233.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
</div>
Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-35601934153019035962015-01-14T05:12:00.002-08:002015-01-14T05:12:38.046-08:006<div>
Mental Balance</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Focus</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I left many loose ends in the last post but at this point I want to move on to the idea of mental balance. I'm thinking of "mental" as the mechanical part of conscious operations in the brain. BIG topic I know. Basically I think of it as managing time, organizing thoughts, thinking critically, feeding your mind, and mental focus. There are many more. Mental balance is basically all the things that don't fall neatly into physical or spiritual balance. Here goes.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Physical balance is easy to define. It is a tangible feeling. It is even measurable. Mental or spiritual balance are quite different. They are not measurable though they do sometimes effect physical systems. Moreover they are not clearly defined. Rather than trying to offer a definition I am just going to relate some times that I have dealt with these concepts as they pertain to my life. Like I've said, the mind is fluid. There is a chance my feelings on this will have changed in some way by the time you read this. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
One of the key elements of mental balance for me is focus. I bring this one up first because I see it as a litmus test. I see it as a byproduct of systems working together. For me it is hard to be focused if there is too much imbalance in my mind. The aggravating thing about focus is true focus isn't something you can try harder to improve. It almost requires not trying which creates a paradox because you can't try not to try. My definition of focus is similar to what Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi calls the "flow experience". Being completely in the eternal present and focusing such that the rest of the world including time and space disappears. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Csikszentmihalyi's found in his research that the human brain has a finite amount of processing power. Things like breathing, heartbeat, swallowing, etc are called autonomic functions. They are on all the time and exist on the subconscious level. Things like hunger, thirst, temperature awareness, location awareness, etc are not automatic and require conscious thought to perceive. Csikszentmihalyi found that in what he defines as the 'flow experience' the task at hand can borrow processing power from these things. We have all had that experience where we have been so engrossed in something that we lose track of time. That's flow.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What he also found was that flow or focus is an autotelic experience. Autotelic means having purpose in and not apart from itself. So autotelic just is doing an activity for the sake of itself. No outside motivator like money, fame, power, etc. To me this is also the definition of being present. If we have the rewards of an activity in mind we are necessarily thinking about the future. I don't think this means not having goals. A couple of years ago I issued myself a challenge to write and record an album of <a href="http://walkeast.bandcamp.com/album/string-quartets" target="_blank">string quartets</a>. I was thinking ahead and planning for the future in laying out a game plan. When it came to the actual implementation of the steps like composing the pieces I found I was most successful when I was doing the composing for the sake of it.</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
We live in a world where there are so many distractions. There are all kind of ways that people can bring some focus to their minds. Some people exercise, some read a book, some meditate, some even go for a drive or take a shower. The common thread here is being in a place where you can be alone with your thoughts. Step back. Notice. Observe. Nonjudgmentally. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-RwKYZ-rm3HU/VLVlPn4i8EI/AAAAAAAAAEU/iVWuMaECl80/s640/blogger-image-1698472518.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-RwKYZ-rm3HU/VLVlPn4i8EI/AAAAAAAAAEU/iVWuMaECl80/s640/blogger-image-1698472518.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-85466932249413126742015-01-08T07:50:00.000-08:002015-01-08T07:50:48.832-08:005<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Aesthetic Balance<br />
<br />
"Nothing is beautiful, only man: on this piece of naivete rests all aesthetics, it is the first truth of aesthetics. Let us immediately add its second: nothing is ugly but degenerate man - the domain of aesthetic judgment is therewith defined." Friedrich Nietzsche<br />
<br />
We all make aesthetic choices all the time. We want to relegate this expertise to artists but it is a basic human trait. Choosing your clothes or combing your hair are aesthetic choices. As the quote states though ideas of beauty are completely a human construct and only in the eye of the beholder. A judgment. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
One of the ways I experience balance as an artist is in an aesthetic sense. While this may seem a little esoteric and hard to apply to everyday life I think there are quite a few parallels. Since my experience as an artist is either as a performer or composer for ensembles the palate is often quite large and at least in ensemble settings you are only a piece of the puzzle. I’ve also found as an amateur photographer many of the same principles to be true when thinking about composing a photo and making choices about light, depth of field, contrast, color balance, etc. The same can be said for any kind of improvisation. Even a conversation is an improvisation.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have introduced a new word into the mix here. Improvisation. One of the first places I go whenever I encounter a word is the dictionary. The definitions I found for this word made me chuckle out loud. “To compose or perform without previous preparation”... “To compose, play, recite, or sing on the spur of the moment”... “to make, provide, or arrange from whatever materials are readily available”. My favorite is the synonym “extemporize” </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So why was I laughing? First I found the notion of a lack of previous preparation interesting. In my mind we are preparing for each subsequent moment with the preceding moment. We have been constantly preparing since birth. The second definition is much like the first. The third however might be the closest to my idea of improvisation. In order for us to do something with whatever materials are readily available we have to have prior experience. I really believe we are all always improvising. Throw other people into the mix and things get really interesting.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Millions and millions of things are happening in every moment. Some of them are so microscopic that we don’t even notice. Some however change the course of events. How we react to them is the key. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
One of the central tenets for improvising actors is the idea of “Yes, and”. In an improvised scene, when you are presented with an idea, you agree with it and add on. Yes… and. When I am working with children in a theatre setting I like to make this a central theme. I also like to use it to teach music improvisation. The exact same phenomenon occurs. Idea, agreement, addition. It just happens to be non-verbal. Lately I’ve been trying to also apply that concept to photography. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In conversation the exact same thing applies. Stephen R Covey has one of my favorite quotes on this subject. "Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply." If the intent is to reply then there isn't an acknowledgement of the original idea. The "and" is then based on your original idea... and 'round and 'round we go.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
How does this apply to the fluid normal? The fluid normal is just that. Saying yes, and. Taking a moment and reacting to it nonjudgmentally then adding to it. Nature is nonjudgmental. Taking every moment as it comes and responding to it. It is not trying to predict the future and not worrying about the past. It is taking every interaction as the most important one. The curious thing is that the only thing we have direct influence over is ourselves. What that means is that in order to change something it means changing yourself.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There are numerous books that have applied the "yes, and" idea to life. What is important as it applies to the concept of the fluid normal is taking every moment as it is and embracing it no matter what it is. That doesn't mean being happy or even saying yes in the literal sense. It does mean accepting it and reacting to it. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7KqlC1fgw5Y/VKs36oX585I/AAAAAAAAAEE/WTBOJaxhDiU/s1600/clefs_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7KqlC1fgw5Y/VKs36oX585I/AAAAAAAAAEE/WTBOJaxhDiU/s1600/clefs_edited-1.jpg" height="235" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-6533508568914988212014-12-31T07:08:00.001-08:002015-01-01T07:27:31.343-08:00interlude<br>
<br>
A Look into My Chitta <br>
<br>
Over the past couple years I have gotten interested in yoga. My initial interest was for health <br>
reasons but I think it can be beneficial for anyone regardless of age or health condition. One <br>
day, after a particularly intense yoga class (which sounds like an oxymoron to non-yoga folk) I <br>
decided to stop over at a breakfast place close to the yoga studio. I had brought a backpack <br>
with me that had a book and some manuscript paper in it.<br>
<br>
I went into the place, kind of a diner vibe, and was seated by a very sweet older woman. When<br>
I was seated a waitress came and filled my coffee cup. I got out my book and started reading. I<br>
must have gotten sucked in because the waitress came back and asked if I was ready to order. <br>
I hadn’t taken a look at the menu yet so she topped off my coffee cup and left. After a quick <br>
glance at the menu I chose what I was going to order. When the waitress returned I placed my <br>
order and she topped off my coffee cup. I relaxed back into my booth and started reading <br>
again. I was feeling very at peace.<br>
<br>
After about 15 minutes the waitress returned with my order and warmed up my coffee again. I <br>
ate my breakfast. When I was finished I checked my cell phone for the time. I had a half hour to <br>
kill before an appointment nearby so I pulled out the manuscript paper and began to think. I <br>
wanted to write one new tune for the upcoming record but no ideas were really coming to me. <br>
The waitress returned to get my plate, topped off my coffee, left my check and headed back to <br>
the kitchen.<br>
<br>
By now I was starting to feel the effects of the coffee. I stared at the manuscript paper. As <br>
caffeine is known to do it was starting to make my eyes dart back and forth and it made tracking <br>
the five little black lines on the paper difficult. I was still feeling the after glow of the yoga class <br>
and I was in a state of inner peace but my body was definitely not at peace at all. I’m not sure <br>
how much coffee I drank but I was starting the sweat and my feet were shuffling.<br>
<br>
Suddenly the humor in the strange juxtaposition of those two feelings hit me all at once. I had a<br>
deep sense of inner peace but was very caffeinated. I laughed out loud. Fueled by prana and <br>
caffeine I put pencil to paper. In about 15 minutes I had it. The piece I was hoping for. Caffeinated Om.<br>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br>
<br>
<br>
<br></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/6SxdNjtbgVQ?list=UUiTzjq3jqyoKmBdKKllEJiw" width="560"></iframe>
<br>
<br>
This short and essay are also in the most recent issue of <a href="http://www.thechicagoprogressive.com/">The Chicago Progressive</a>Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-30649658371255717092014-12-24T05:14:00.001-08:002014-12-24T06:08:21.803-08:004<div><br></div><div><div>The Fluid Normal</div><div><br></div><div>Before I begin I don't want this to turn into some big nonduality rant. That is not my intention. That said I do think it is important to look at the duality of thought in American culture to describe my concept of a 'fluid normal'. Dualism on a philosophical level is just thinking of things as opposing forces. Good vs Evil. Happy vs Sad. Healthy vs Sick. Balanced vs Unbalanced. Normal vs Abnormal. The problem with this for me is this sets a pretty unattainable goal and does not acknowledge the importance of all the different shades of gray for perspective and fully appreciating each moment for what it is. In this case that is the definition of non-duality I am working with. Not thinking of two diametrically opposed forces or states but rather a smear. I also like to look at it as a circular smear. Remember the yin-yang. No beginning or end and an infinite number of sides. </div><div><br></div><div>I took a class in college called Philosophy and Fantasy. In that class we analyzed the philosophy in science fiction classics. One discussion in particular has always stuck with me. In the Philip K. Dick story Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep the characters are in possession of a machine called a mood organ. The mood organ allows them to dial up any mood. Most use the mood organ to be happy all the time. The main character's wife decides to occasionally dial an emotion other than happiness or not dial an emotion at all. In this she is lending importance to the gambit of emotion.</div><div><br></div><div>Let's think then of this in the context of a fluid normal. When we describe something as fluid we are describing a point that is not fixed, shifting, changing. Interestingly, if we look at the etymology, the word "fluid" comes the Latin root "flu" which means "to flow". A concept of a changing, shifting, flowing normal is similar in concept to an active idea of balance. Even the most experienced yogi will tell you that physical balance is not the same from day to day or even moment to moment. Rather than getting frustrated, take note. Experience the moment for what it is. I believe that every moment has the potential to make is aware of something... if we are willing to listen. </div><div><br></div><div>A buzz word that is going around right now is mindfulness. There are many layers to this concept. It is Buddhist concept that is thousands of years old and is a hot topic in modern day western psychology. There are many people way smarter than me about it so I'm not going to go into it. That said, when I think deeply about this concept I come up with one central tenant as it applies to me. Experience each moment for what it is. Non-judgmentally. To me this is the fluid normal. To get to that idea the first step for me was making peace with the fact that a single state of normal does not exist and that the dualist concept of normal is full of judgment. Like I said before it is impossible to hit a target that is always moving or doesn't exist.</div><div><br></div><div>The challenge that I found once I started wrapping my mind around this concept was not being judgmental of my non-judgmentalness. Am I being non-judgmental enough? Am I trying not to try hard enough? Let me explain. With both the brain surgery and later the diagnosis with Multiple Sclerosis I found it difficult to distinguish between things that everyone has to deal with and things that could be attributed to after effects of surgery or the symptoms of MS. Moreover I found myself not wanting to blame anything on those things. To me that meant admitting the disease was getting the better of me and I was letting it into my psyche. Then I found myself starting to swing to the other extreme and think every physical malady could be be blamed on one of those things. I realized though that it was somewhere in the middle. Balance. The other thing I realized is it was not particularly important the source and, in the spirit of being in the moment, I just found personal value in experiencing every moment for what it is. Thinking about a cause or what tomorrow might be like is not dealing with now and not particularly productive. </div><div><br></div></div>Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-19462488990753858812014-12-17T05:10:00.001-08:002014-12-17T05:10:52.961-08:003<div>In the last section I brought up three points or lessons that my experience with physical balance showed me. The first was unconscious systems compensating for a compromised system. The second was conscious adjustments that can be made. Third was the concept of a 'new normal' or maybe better a 'fluid normal'.</div><div><br></div><div>I'd like to take a second to look at the definitions of conscious and unconscious before we continue. The number one definition of conscious that comes up in the dictionary is "to be aware of one's own existence, sensation, thoughts, surroundings, etc". Wow that's broad. So to me the first part of this is checking in with yourself to even be aware that those things exist. I've always firmly believed that before you can have meaningful action you first need intention but I don't see how you can even have intention without first checking in and identifying what even needs attention. The definition of unconscious then is "below the level of awareness, occurring below the level of conscious thought". Also very broad.</div><div><br></div><div>There are millions and millions of processes going on in your body every second that you don't consciously think about. Swallowing, breathing, digesting, sweating, focusing your eyes, growing your hair, regulating body heat, smelling, tasting, balance, and the fantastic amount of processes that go into each one of those. There are many more too. These processes we lump into a big messy category of being alive. An important part of it to is they are functions we just trust are going to happen and on some level take for granted. Thinking about all this I came upon a definition of unconscious as something that exists outside your sphere of direct influence. The key word for me here is "direct". I'll go into that more in a bit.</div><div><br></div><div>So what happens if one of these functions doesn't happen the way it is supposed to? Get cold? Put on a sweater. Vision blurry? Get glasses. Losing you hearing? Get hearing aids. Also many of these functions can be regulated by medication. These are examples of direct influence.</div><div><br></div><div>If something we are calling direct exists something called indirect must too. To understand my concept of indirect influence I would like us to think of the body as a whole. We like to label systems and discreet parts of the body but anyone that has gone through physical therapy knows many systems work together. In my experience that is part of what physical therapy or any kind of body work does. It identifies parts of the body that are weak, injured, or otherwise need help and trains other systems in the body to compensate for the compromised system and also show us how the body might not be working as a whole. </div><div><br></div><div>A few years ago Yoga was recommended to me as beneficial for the health challenges I was dealing with. In my own experience the jury is still out as to whether there is any direct benefit to my specific physical issues. What I have found to be a big benefit is an increased level of total body awareness. It has also increased my general level of physical conditioning. As I said I am fairly into cycling and was almost fanatical in my middle 20's. I was in fantastic physical shape (or so I thought) but what I found is I was conditioning very specific muscles of the body to do a very specific task. Unbalanced. I have also found some great mental and spiritual benefits to yoga that I will go in to later but for the sake of this section I want to continue to focus on physical systems. I've alluded that body is a whole and that whole is not just all the physical systems but also mental and spiritual so seeking a balance of the whole is key but I digress. The important thing here is that an increased body awareness and increased general conditioning improved physical balance. It also made me think about all parts involved in every movement. </div><div><br></div><div>I don't intend this as an endorsement of yoga. I have found it extremely helpful as have many others. I know several other friends that didn't find the same benefit. There are plenty of ways to skin this proverbial cat. Yoga is working for me. The goal is learning to listen to your body and mind.</div><div> </div><div>Our expectation of reality is shaped by experience. Both direct and indirect systems learn by detecting patterns of behavior. We know a pot on the stove with flame under it is probably hot because at some point we touched a pot with flame under it and it hurt. This formula goes for almost everything we do. We are not born fully formed. I'd actually argue that there is no such thing as fully formed. This again gets at this idea that there is this place when we've attained full personhood and no more growth is needed. I think we all know instinctively that this is not true but this unattainable goal of the perfect adult person exists. It is almost the stuff of myth. The problem for me with this idea is the fact that there is small window of what is commonly seen as "normal" in a given group. This is obviously the shared fault of a variety of sources which could be the subject of a whole other book so I won't spend time on it here. What is important is this "normal" cannot be attained and I'd argue does not even exist. We have this myth of getting closer and closer but as the paradox states, if we continually half our distance to something we never get there. It think this only stirs up feelings of inadequacy and failure. This is where I came upon the personal notion of the 'fluid normal'. In the next post I will go into that in greater detail as I need an aspirin at this point. </div>Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-17431804969843576402014-12-10T05:33:00.001-08:002014-12-10T05:33:35.440-08:002<div>Physical balance</div><div><br></div><div>Let me preface this section by saying I am not a doctor and have no formal training in physiology. That said I have always been fascinated by the incredibly complex machine that is the human body. If any doctor wants to call me out, please do so. I've tried to get as close as a musician can on the topic.</div><div><br></div><div>I've always been really taken by dancers. They seem to have such total control over their bodies that they defy gravity. If we could go inside the brain of a dancer though we'd see that the illusions they create are really a whole series of very finely tuned biological systems all working together. As I said I am not really an expert so I hopped on the old interweb to do a little research. I found that equilibrioception is the fancy medical term for the physical sense of balance. As I suspected it is the result of a number of body systems working together: the eyes (visual system), ears (vestibular system) and the body's sense of where it is in space (proprioception). According to Wikipedia (a reputable source) "The balance system works with the visual and skeletal systems (the muscles and joints and their sensors) to maintain orientation or balance. Visual signals sent to the brain about the body's position in relation to its surroundings are processed by the brain and compared to information from the vestibular, visual and skeletal systems."</div><div><br></div><div>There are couple things that strike me about this. First, as I suspected there are lots of things going on at once making balance possible. Second, and possibly more important, is the fact that balance is the brain's attempt at dealing with chaos. The definition of chaos I am thinking of is maybe the slightly more 'scientific' definition which is a seemingly random series of events. Beautifully chaotic. Your brain is having to take in a fantastic amount of ever-changing information and make the proper adjustments while sending and receiving information from the eyes, the inner ear, the nerves, and the muscles. Truly amazing.</div><div><br></div><div>The removal of the brain tumor was the first time I had to really deal with physical balance but all of us have had a time when not all the systems were working together such as an ear infection or an over indulgence in adult beverages. The tumor I had was called an Acoustic Neuroma or Vestibular Schwannoma. Fortunately the tumor was benign but unfortunately it was very large (the size of a lemon)and putting pressure on my brain stem so emergency surgery was required. As you might be able to guess from the name the tumor is caused by an overgrowth of the Schwann cells that make up the myelin sheath that cover each nerve in our body. Schwann cells occur specifically in the peripheral nervous system. Think of it as the insulation on a wire. In this case the overgrowth of cells happens on the vestibular nerve. I will go into more detail later but what is important here is the surgery resulted in the removal of one of my vestibular nerves. I lost hearing in my ear but more importantly I lost one of the nerves that sends the brain information about the body's position in space. </div><div><br></div><div>What is truly fascinating about the human brain is how it can adapt to situations like this by using other systems to compensate. Let that sink in for a second. I'm not going to lie. It was not an instantaneous process. When I was first recovering from surgery I couldn't even sit in a chair without getting extreme vertigo and nausea. Over the coming weeks and months though I eventually went from sitting to standing to walking short distances to climbing stairs to walking around the block and so on until I was back to at least a new normal. In all of this the brain was rerouting connections and I was learning what I had to do physically to compensate for my new-found balance issue.</div><div><br></div><div>I'd like to focus on three points from the last paragraph. One, the idea that it took time for hindbrain to learn to aid the system that needed help. This is an unconscious function. Two, I learned the conscious adjustments I had to make. Three, the concept of a new normal. </div><div><br></div><div>To me the concept of a "new normal" is one of the harder but more valuable lessons I learned from the ordeal. The definition of what balance is from moment to moment is fluid. As fluid as the process itself. I think it can be hard for us to get next to idea that something is not going to be the same every time we come to it. There is comfort in sameness. Things that we can rely on. But we can also come to take these very same things for granted. Call it complacency or apathy. It takes real effort to try to conceive of the fact that there are actually millions of things zinging around in every moment making that physical balance possible.</div><div><br></div><div>The other lesson here for me was putting trust in systems that I couldn't control and exerting control over that systems that I could. Also recognizing what gaps needs to be filled and learning what I could do, or not, to fill them.</div><div><br></div><div>Thinking about more philosophical or metaphysical topics by comparing them to physical phenomenon can sometimes help to illustrate the concept. For that reason I outlined my views on physical balance first. For me any kind of balance requires multiple systems working together and an understanding that the definition of balance is as fluid as the process itself. </div><div><br></div>Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5826525158981458857.post-71980130384567879332014-12-08T21:07:00.001-08:002014-12-08T21:43:27.029-08:001<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Let me start by quoting the lyrics from a famous Peggy Lee song "I know a little bit 'bout a lot of things". Now that we have that out of the way let me explain. I am a husband, father, son, brother, musician, composer, teacher, writer, philosopher, photography hobbyist, fitness buff, chef, gardener, yogi, outdoorsman, cyclist, coffee enthusiast, and I'll try my hand at any home improvement project (and probably mess it up the first time). As an active person and artist balance (physical, mental, and spiritual) has always been in the front of my mind. When you are young and healthy, before you have a family and kids, balance is easy. Your body is strong and you don't have many life responsibilities yet. Before we continue though let's look at what balance is.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The dictionary defines balance as a state of equilibrium. The thing that is tricky about this definition is by defining it as a state or place we automatically think of it as a destination. Defining it as a destination makes it a passive state. I contend quite the opposite. I think balance is an active state. If we look more deeply at physical balance or equilibrium we see that there are a fantastic number of systems and signals that are working together and constantly adjusting and compensating to maintain said balance. To me this makes balance active and I don't even like to use the term state. Like I said state implies location or target and it is hard to hit a target that is always moving worse yet doesn't even truly exist.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Over the course of this diatribe I am going to look at the three kinds of balance I outlined. Physical, mental, spiritual. I also want to share some of the things that I've learned about balance over my time here. As I stated I'm a jack of all trades master of none. My 40 years on this planet qualify me for exactly that, 40 years of experience lugging this meat sack around on this rock. People who are older than me have more expertise and younger people less. Temper everything I say with that.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have dealt with several serious medical happenings and while I don't think that makes me any more qualified to comment on life it has put me in a position to evaluate things a bit. In a way I consider myself lucky to have been confronted with serious illness and my own mortality at an age young enough that I still was in the invincible stage but old enough that I had some perspective. The medical occurrence in question was a brain tumor when I was 28. I was already married and had an infant daughter. I was just embarking on life as an adult. Diagnosis was stressful. Surgery was long. Recovery was hard work. There are many many lessons hidden in this journey though. Several years later I was diagnosed with MS with it's own set of challenges and lessons.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
While I definitely don't want to make this at all about my health it has me think very deeply about what health is physical, mental, and spiritual. That is where I came upon the idea of balance. Like I said, as an amateur athlete, health nut, chef, and artist the topic of balance is always on my mind. One of the definitions the dictionary offers of balance is the pulling by opposing forces like an old school scale. This notion always seemed funny to me. That's why I prefer the Yin/Yang image of balance. Swirling together and being part of a whole. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12128404485642049853noreply@blogger.com0