tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72477022561020807032024-03-13T05:01:47.111-07:00Crystallized AbstractionsI love the process of thinking. The way we can assemble abstract concepts with beautifully threaded connections, creating a patchwork that can be both disorienting, but also profound. If done correctly, a previously vacant space becomes occupied by a new form, crystallized from the ether.Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-37586778146284532872020-08-05T23:12:00.004-07:002020-08-05T23:18:29.865-07:00Perception, Consciousness, and the Value of Seeing Beyond The Self<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVP7tK_mdYH-oM4kqsl7x8o6CVgsdEJ5MBBEnguBtYTUUDvjH75NBGaHP-WZaET7jBwQKYw73Z_Ntg5OyY620AWdffjhx0YXEKYaqOiqQUGkXDsQsjsMqsgjf8GWRC41KUsG8BUdY5XO4/s692/94470737_s.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="692" data-original-width="692" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVP7tK_mdYH-oM4kqsl7x8o6CVgsdEJ5MBBEnguBtYTUUDvjH75NBGaHP-WZaET7jBwQKYw73Z_Ntg5OyY620AWdffjhx0YXEKYaqOiqQUGkXDsQsjsMqsgjf8GWRC41KUsG8BUdY5XO4/w512-h512/94470737_s.jpg" width="512" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The thing about perception is that by its very nature, it distills, narrows and squeezes <i>reality</i> down to mentally consumable chunks. Much like the aperture of a sophisticated camera, it functions automatically, without thought, to prevent overexposure of our consciousness. It turns and adjusts to the correct width to cast an image or an impression on the mind. Without perception, our minds would be inundated with information. At best, the image would not be clearly defined. At worst, we would be staring at a thousand-headed beast, speaking a hundred different languages at once, preaching dozens of doctrines, casting both light and darkness from each eye.</div><div><br /></div><div>Consciousness is then the <i>self</i> recognizing that it is aware of itself and everything else that is not the self. It is the Big, honking "I am here!", the ever-assured "There are things here that are not me!", and the judgment churning machine that evaluates, measures, and inflates or deflates meaning. To be conscious is to admit to yourself that you are actively participating in thought. It is to be aware, or more accurately, to be aware of being aware.</div><div><br /></div><div>But aware of what?</div><div><br /></div><div>All too often, because it is easy, we default to being solely aware of our experience. Sadly, this is where we also go astray. Being too bound up in our tiny experience tends to put the blinders on. Our experience engulfs all others. We become unable to see the other and the world for what it is. The results of this narrowed scope can fall anywhere from indifference to full-on destruction.</div><div><br /></div><div>If one was to attempt to find a commonality in the varied teachings of the great spiritual leaders of the past 2500 years, it would be this- See beyond yourself, to the great _____, and the world will be a better place. For Confucious (Kong Qiu), the _____ would be tradition, family, and leading the ethical life. For the Buddha (Siddhattha Gotama), the _____ would be his Dhamma which is the understanding the shared suffering in the world and its impermanence, learning to let go, thus turning away from the self (non-self) with the goal of reaching the other shore of Nirvanna (Nibanna). For Jesus, the _____ would be the Kingdom of God, whether in this life or beyond, by breaking bread with others, caring for the sick and standing up to corrupt systems. For Muhammad, the _____ would be recognizing the one true God, submission to God, the observance of ritual and prayer, and acts of kindness.</div><div><br /></div><div>The common thread that weaves its way through these different patchworks of belief is goodness:</div><div><br /></div><div>Confucious ~ Humaneness</div><div>The Buddha ~ Compassion</div><div>Jesus ~ Love</div><div>Muhammad ~ Righteousness (Love)</div><div><br /></div><div>Let us now recognize something else that must have certainly been shared, which is what these teachings hoped to combat. It is the ever-present, default mode. The self with blinders on. The self only concerned with itself. We can't walk in their shoes, but we can certainly assume that something dug at them. They, among countless others, over time and to this day, were sensitive enough to have perceived these ugly truths and found a path out. Perhaps, they were just in the right place at the right time, or they had that rare gift to share their truth with others, or if you are religious, they were the messengers or prophets of those unseen gears behind the curtains.</div><div><br /></div><div>This post is not about being religious. It is not really even about being good. I only bring up these great teachers to reflect a tradition of thought that has shaped our societies and to show a common thread between them.</div><div><br /></div><div>What then is this post about? It is about this- I don't care how you do it, but please look beyond yourself. If being religious is that ticket, then punch that card and hop aboard. If building community and helping out your neighbors gives you that wholesome feeling, then drive right in. If expressing yourself through art, music, words or teaching feels like a calling, then shout it out. At the very least, if a highly contagious, variable virus is spreading in your community then put on a mask, keep your distance and spend more time alone.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know when our next spiritual teacher will arrive, but the world is in desperate need. Perhaps, everything that needed to be taught has already been taught and as such, we simply need to point our mind-cameras to the light, adjust the aperture, and sear an image into the consciousness. Maybe, just maybe, this novel coronavirus is the teacher. It locks us in rooms, revealing ugly truths, forcing us to examine how we take care of ourselves and others, generating both bone-chilling fear of death and bright-eyed hope for better days. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div>Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-60668080691530501632020-06-03T23:27:00.003-07:002020-06-03T23:51:34.101-07:00Freedominance in America<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Ask yourself, "What is my privilege?”, or if you really want to crack that egg open, “What are my privileges?” Answer with answers and not questions.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">I can walk down the streets in my neighborhood with a literal ‘Mega Millions lottery long shot’ little risk of being shot. I can go about my day without being unduly pulled aside and questioned by authorities. Even on my worst days, when my anger and frustration spill over, those feelings can be expressed without societal retribution. I can tell others how I feel without being negatively labeled. When I get pulled over by a police officer, there is a 50% chance I will be let go with a warning. I can run anywhere in my city for exercise!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Now, reverse it and take a blind-folded attempt at empathy. Ask yourself, “What would be my liability if I was of a different race, gender, sexual orientation, or religion?” This time answer with questions, because, let us be honest, can you really know enough to answer directly?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">If I was black, what would my experience be if I walked into a convenience store with a face mask, worn to protect me from a highly contagious virus spreading in the community? What would happen if I was noticed by a police officer while I was driving around with expired tags or bad headlights? What if I reached into my vehicle glove box to get a registration slip? Should I go bird watching in Central Park? Should I jog through a different neighborhood?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">If I was a woman, what would my experience be if I spoke up during a company meeting to tell a colleague I disagreed with their comment or approach? How safe am I if I decide to go on a date with someone I just met? What if I expressed myself with the same candor as him?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Instead of continuing with these hypotheticals, allow me to describe my own privilege. Not once, but twice, in the past three years, I was pulled over for driving around at night with my headlights off. The first incident resulted in a ticket and the second a polite warning to be safe. While living in Chicago, I would drunkenly climb street signs, light posts, and billboard poles. I have, to my shame, been too outspoken at work at times. I have made inappropriate jokes that people outside of my immediate sphere could hear. I have spoken with frustrated tones in meetings. I have been promoted half a dozen times, sometimes with minimal effort.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Over time, I have truly lost memory of all those experiences that have opened up, effortlessly, to me. I have felt safe and in control almost, every time. The point is not to brag. The point is to say there are two starkly different Americas. Those with privilege need to recognize the system is not equitable and has never been equitable. One of the saddest things I have come to reflect on is that systemic racism exists not just from a historical context, but from the perpetual need of some to assert a level of dominance over another group of individuals. In other words, in a hypocritical inverse of existence, it is the freedom to take the freedom away from another based on their ancestral origin and the color of their skin. It is unspoken but seen every day across America. It is not Freedom. It is Freedominance and it is disgusting.<o:p></o:p></p>Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-74778084517695379652014-06-16T22:42:00.001-07:002014-06-16T22:42:08.900-07:00Understanding the Self, Undoing the Self<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A Chinese fan. When folded it represents a single space. When
opened it branches aesthetically, symmetrically, in all directions. The pivot, or core of the fan connects the individual branches just as it sits as the foundation
of the folded singular stack.</div>
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On various metaphysical levels, the fan opens partially,
fully, closes and repeats. This is a visual representation of the self. The
self is not a singular, objective thing. It is, in fact, the most complex,
infinite, relational and ever changing theme of your life. It is the fully
flayed fan and it will boggle the mind to comprehend for it is the reflection
of the world, the reflection of memory, the reflection of time, the reflection
of being and most interestingly, the reflection of itself.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The pivot is the atman or the essential self. It is the
very source of all the branches. The essential self is eschewed and unobtainable
to us. The branches, with the connected paper fabric, can be taken as a whole
to better understand the true self. Let’s move on to gain better understanding.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>The Constant Self</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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This is the self in time. It is the self of memory. It is
the current state of self viewing past selves and future selves. This is what
most come to believe is their true nature because it is the most personal and easily
accessible. We often define ourselves based on where we have come from and how
that shaped the current state of self. Using this imprint we can easily make
predictions of our future, whether these are remotely accurate or not.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>The Relational Self</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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This can be thought about as the self adapting to other
selves. Sure, it can mean the self adapting to itself, but I will get to that
later. This is mostly the aspect of yourself and how it shapes others and is shaped
by others. Think about the complexity of that. You perceive the form of another
person’s self with the innate understanding that their self is just as gunky
and multilayered as your own. You form an impression and with that image you bounce
this self off of this other perceived self. This process is infinitely
relational because the other is doing the exact same thing. The end result of
this dance is a form shaped from the ether and agreed upon by both parties. An abstract shared self, for lack of better language. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>The Self Present</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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This is the self we will always feel most at peace with.
It is the self that forgoes reflections of time, as with the Constant Self, as
well as the self that forgoes its immediate relationship with others. For
whatever reason you are put in a situation free of restraints, expectations
and consequences. This situation can be as common as being immersed in a live
concert to as unique and intimate as a deep level of meditation. Regardless, it
is the self freed of reflections. It is one step closer to the folded fan. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>The Self Watching Self</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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This is the most confounding aspect. The self viewing
itself is not unlike a hall-of-mirrors effect. It reflects upon itself reflecting
upon itself and so on. It looks upon itself looking upon itself and this, as a
whole, forms the highest degree of the reflective self. There is no cohesion
here. It spirals out as infinite as the universe. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p><b>The Undoing of Self</b></o:p></div>
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What event or events does it take to completely fold or
rip the fan and force it back open with different meanings? This is the true
undoing of self. Only an event so tragic, so immeasurable, so destructive can
rip the fan apart. The pivot, the core remains, but it is forced to reinvent and reflect new folds. The undoing of self is a metaphysical death that,
when experienced on the deepest and most despair-ridden of levels, will only
foster a miraculous rebirth and if not, it will confirm its very dissolution. </div>
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Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-82669622538027705662014-06-12T22:44:00.003-07:002014-06-13T14:25:06.427-07:00The Power of Choice, the Patchwork of Time<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
It is false to see time as a straight and confined
delineation of events through which you pass at varying velocities during your
consciousness. The thread of time in which you inhabit is of your making, but not
without the influence of others and the world in which you inhabit. </div>
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See yourself at this very instant of time- The way you
appear to yourself and others, the status you embody in society, the
experiences that have shaped you, both of despair and exaltation, and ultimately, the path you navigate. <o:p></o:p></div>
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To minimize your part in these events is a misstep.
Sure, many things have been out of your control. You can influence how people
see you and even their selves, but you will never change the core of that
individual. You will inevitably merge, twist, ignite and empower just as you
will negate, diminish and misdirect others. Things lay within your control, but
largely out of your control. My point is this- a single chance taken in life
can have profound outcomes not just for you, but also the people you connect
with and the people they connect with and so on and so forth.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Think about an absolute, concrete decision that you have
made which has completely altered and directed your life. This decision can be
as traditional as, “I choose this college over this one”, to as personal as, “I
choose this person”.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Meaning is fleeting in this world. It sits in front of
you one moment, glowing and vibrating with the very fabric of the universe only
to evaporate in the cruelest fashion leaving an emptied plane yearning once
again for radiant meaning. This bizarre,
but unique process of human experience effaces itself to the consciousness. The
fabric of time continues to undulate as your mark barely registers with the entirety
of the patchwork, yet those closest to you and yourself are forever changed. In
this way, it is a paradox. Your personal experience is both profound and meaningless.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Crystallize this concept and see this- Most of the decisions
that you make will have little or no ripple on time. There are, however, key
choices which place you on a path and define your stamp on time. A single decision can forever shape yourself and the world. Choice then takes on the weightiest theme in our lives.<o:p></o:p></div>
Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-41506650994195930302014-05-07T19:39:00.000-07:002014-05-08T11:30:14.658-07:00Strength<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Butting up against two of the heaviest, darkest and most melancholic
experiences of my life has left me with a sobering realization. It is difficult
to describe this thought in a single sentence of the English language, so instead
I choose to expand on what all this means to me through this post. Hopefully
some meaning or greater understanding can be gleamed from all the chaos that
swirls around not just me, but also you. After all, that is the very focus of
what I try to accomplish with these sporadic ramblings.</div>
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No dancing around it... I am losing the love of my life,
or at the very least, the love of my young adult life. Being neither religious
nor traditional, it is still a wonder why I married so young (young by our
modern standards). Oh yeah! I remember
now. Here it goes…<o:p></o:p></div>
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Seven years ago I was suddenly whipped into a certain kind
of frenzy. I remember when it all started. I was on one of my first backpacking
trips with my best friend. We were in the Great Smoky Mountains, camped beside a river. A fire was
eating away at some sad logs we managed to wrangle up out of the brush. I
looked long and hard at the blaze when something suddenly sparked inside me. I
saw the continuation of a love, the next step, the woman I wanted to turn into
a wife, even if she wasn't there beside me looking at the same fire. I remember thinking how odd that it should come on like this.
Regardless, I awoke the next morning and we cooked a quick breakfast, broke camp and
hiked up a grueling ridge line. The physical excursion was nothing, because a
new strength was building inside of me- the strength to love to the fullest
extent.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Strength then gets tested and redefined some years later
when the bond begins to sever. Communication breaks down as affection all but
disappears. Something is off, broken, but we refuse to acknowledge it. This
refusal to acknowledge turns into a refusal to fix and finally, a refusal to
continue. It is truly the most bazaar confluence of emotions I have ever
experienced. To love someone so deeply but to also know that it is gone, and that
it left some time ago, will fill you with every emotion from A to Z, especially
when the other one feels the exact same way. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Now on to this... I can’t even begin to fathom what the
loss of my father will mean. All I know is that the moment seems to be
approaching rapidly with every passing day. I was back in North Carolina for an
entire month and watched his sharp decline. I felt as low as I possibly could,
but held out hope that he would level out some. I hopped in the car and drove back
to Chicago only to learn a week later that things are truly not as bright as I
deluded myself into thinking. Needless to say, I am jumping on a flight in the
coming days to return to my true home and the house I grew up in, but mostly to
be with my dad.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So onto “strength”… I believe it speaks highly of us as sentient
beings. We have the strength to endure unimaginable hardships and somehow come
out alive, albeit in a broken state. What I am experiencing is the worst
combination of events, but what I also realize now is this- The lowest low I
can experience from loss in no way compares to the lowest low you have faced or
will face in the future. We are each left with our own trials, tribulations and
unfathomable losses. What rips us apart can also make us stronger and in the
process we inadvertently strengthen each other. <o:p></o:p></div>
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My final point… Strength can be defined in so many different
ways and I have chosen to define it from the subject’s perspective. Flip it and
look at it from the object’s perspective and you find true strength. To fight
against a terrible disease every step of the way, up until the final breath, is
truly the fullest measure of strength. My dad is the strongest person I know
and this post is really about him. <o:p></o:p></div>
Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-9078980593331648132014-04-07T16:03:00.000-07:002014-04-08T10:59:14.972-07:00Serenity<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipBFI0TiPjco2OHm6LoTPxlSNIbaAt9o-pdFA_mAT2ZZc7xRsnwC1JFG5FGMDzTiErPcs_5ug8DxoPJUeWxzGYlP2w3Xs1l1mC1qw5m_G_6C-jlMGQRJWlDrCeFketvHK-sSFO49u_4D0/s1600/Serenity.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipBFI0TiPjco2OHm6LoTPxlSNIbaAt9o-pdFA_mAT2ZZc7xRsnwC1JFG5FGMDzTiErPcs_5ug8DxoPJUeWxzGYlP2w3Xs1l1mC1qw5m_G_6C-jlMGQRJWlDrCeFketvHK-sSFO49u_4D0/s1600/Serenity.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Picture this- I am sitting on a ridiculously comfortable
chair, placed just to the side of the screened-in back patio porch of my parent’s
house. I think, “Damn, I am lucky bastard.” as the afternoon sun takes on this
beautiful golden-orange hue and rays of light, filtered through pine needles, splay across the yard and illuminate the walls of my peaceful enclosure. Warm,
gentle breezes carry the sweet songs of birds, but also the foreboding scent of
pollen, instilling in me the premonitions of an early spring battle where allergy
warfare keeps me dug in the trenches of red eyes and throat scratch. Any silly fears
of allergies (or, really, any other silly fears at that matter) would not have gained
any traction here; there is simply too much beauty that surrounds me, mesmerizing each of my
senses on the most tranquil of levels. I sip a cold beer and for some bazaar reason
I suddenly become inspired to write... <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
A wise man would have simply sat there and soaked in all
the beauty that nature could hurl at him; but, what do I do? I pick up my
laptop and begin typing away. You would think this is what I wrote, but I
assure you it was not. I began with some absurdly heady philosophical blog post
about meaning, how we derive it and what happens when it disappears. I get a
third of the way through and the fire goes out. I sit there for some time
waiting for my mind to fire back up, but it never does. Really, this isn’t the
worst place to have a mental block, far from it in fact... <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Just a week ago, I was back in Chicago having somehow
survived the worse winter I ever hope to endure. Sure, mixing meds and alcohol
for inspiration, while I frantically type on my overheated, wary laptop makes
sense when it is 20 degrees Fahrenheit, windy and every living and non-living
thing alike are caked in frozen precipitation. But, why in the hell am I doing
in it now when I should be telling my mind to take a hike so that the rest of
my senses and spirit can take some reprieve? Good question. Too bad I didn’t
think of it until just now- three days later when it is dark, cooler and damp
outside…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
So then, let me be slightly pissed at myself for not appreciating
what was sitting right there in front of me at the time. Sure, it was
appreciated briefly, but not before that overbearing mind took hold and pulled
me away to that abstracted, unnatural realm, where I spend far too much time. Simply
put, serenity was there, but I would not have it…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Herein lays the defect of human nature I believe we all
carry. Serenity is always present, but it often remains eschewed by our
troubled minds, frantic emotions and misplaced direction. Take any healthy practice
you enjoy- physical exercise, sports, yoga, meditation, prayer, reading, music,
art or just simply, relaxation. What do all these activities have in common?
They turn our minds off. Not the entire mind, or the lights would go out. These necessary moments of distraction turn off the silly, frantic, rambling, encumbering parts that keep us from
being ourselves and enjoying all the life that surrounds us in the realm of
serenity… <o:p></o:p></div>
Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-67599795706130012862014-03-27T19:40:00.001-07:002014-03-28T09:49:36.283-07:00Mind Firing on All Cylinders<div class="MsoNormal">
Mind firing on all cylinders. If this is mania I welcome it.
The mind alit, on fire. Thoughts, emotions and images swirl into a passionate
blaze. Once it was nothing more than a dull, barren wasteland of unforgiving
coldness where no seed would find purchase. Then suddenly the flames of a new life
emerge from the darkness. The tough husk of the seeds becomes toasted and
serotinous pryriscence takes hold. Seeds sprout, take root and reach for the
heavens. Now a glorious forest rises
from the soil. The sun arches across the expanse of the sky, as flocks of
tropical, iridescently colorful birds fly to unknown, but mystical destinations. Here
you find life. You find the glory and beauty of all that exists. You become a
part of it. You merge. You coalesce with all that has been, all that is now and
all that will ever be. You become the thread of time, the expanse of the
universe, the very spark that created everything. This is not inflated. You are
not God, not by any means. You are still a sack of flesh, bones and fluids.
However, something inside you is connected, locked-in to an ever present meaning
and truth that runs behinds us, over us and through us. This is recognition.
This is deliverance. This is everything you have ever wanted to be, but were too
terrified to release. You are what you are as we are what we all are- nothing
and everything all at the same time. Every fear, every insecurity, every
selfish motive is only a manifestation of disconnection. Once all life is
connected on the physical, metaphysical and transcendent planes, then and only
then will heaven be realized. This is a real thing. Do not negate it. Do not
dismiss it. Do not bastardize it. Take it down to its purest form. This is
connection; this is life; this is love. It flows through us and we are the engines,
burning the customary fuel of our existence, creating new meaning, new life
and the one thing that is unique to us as sentient beings- Love.<o:p></o:p></div>
Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-70659774817988817512014-03-25T16:49:00.002-07:002014-03-26T12:16:21.290-07:00Dignity <div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Today on the train I decided to glance around at my
fellow passengers. Sure, this may seem rude to those who frequent public transportation,
who often stare into a book, smartphone, out the window or blankly into space.
And by “glance” I don’t mean “stare”. It is more of a survey of my surroundings
and an inspection of the beings that inhabit it. During this process I attempt
to avoid judgments, which is rather difficult since that tends to be the first
place the mind goes when looking at a stranger.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Enter the judgments:</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
“That guys looks too caught up in his professionalism.” “She
looks rather angsty, young and impulsive.” “Poor woman looks haggard and distraught.”
“Wow! That dude smells like someone threw a bucket-o-urine on him. Oh crap, now
he is talking to himself. Don’t look over here; please don’t look over here…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
To shift a value judgment, which you will inevitably
form, you must couple it with a perceptive filter. The Myers-Briggs personality
test puts these two things at opposite ends of some ridiculous black-and-white,
this-or-that scale. In case you are curious, I hate dichotomies. Yes, they do
exist and they do help us make sense of the world, but so much of life exists
in that grey area which is neither this-or-that, black-or-white. So, while you
can be inclined more towards the judgmental realm (Enter my hater friends, of
which I have many. Love you guys. <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span>),
or perhaps you lean more towards the perceptive way of viewing the world (Hello
artists and sensitive types. I count myself among your ranks, but for some weird
reason I tend to align with the haters.), know that both are not mutually
exclusive. Yes, you may immediately jump
to a judgment, but try sitting with that for a minute and see if your perception
can gunk it up. For more clarity, in the aforementioned personality test, the
judging aspect is defined by (Thinking/Feeling) while the perceptive aspect is
defined by (sensing/intuition). How you ask? Glad you asked. Let’s walk through
this…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Take each one of those judgments from above and add a
story. Yes, write a story for that person. Seem like a waste of time? Well, it
is not. This process will make life infinitely more meaningful. Believe me or
believe David Foster Wallace in one of his speeches (**See the links at the end
of this post). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Apply the perceptive filter:</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
“<i>That guys looks
too caught up in his professionalism</i>. Hmm, perhaps he has a sick wife or parent
to support or perhaps a child has a disability and is in need of expensive
healthcare. He comes in early and leaves the office late, essentially doubling
his workload to climb the ladder, get bonuses and support his loved ones.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
“<i>She looks rather angsty,
young and impulsive</i>. Well, let me see. I remember being there myself, a scrawny,
pale, skinny weirdo with zero chance of kissing a girl. What is her deal
though? A child of divorce or parents caught in a loveless marriage? Ah yes,
she is trying to find herself in this chaotic world just as we all are. It just
so happens that she is 17 and this is how it is done at that age.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
“<i>Poor woman looks haggard
and distraught</i>. She must have a boat load of kids to take care of while working
two jobs, neither of which pays very well. Sure, she probably could have used
more birth control, but that is difficult when a box of condoms cost $15 and
pills cost $60 and you live below the poverty line. Maybe, just maybe, she
comes home exhausted as hell and reads a children’s book to those kids to get
them off to sleep for no other reason than she loves them. Is there is any
other reason to work two shitty jobs?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
“<i>Wow! That dude
smells like someone threw a bucket-o-urine on him. Oh crap, now he is talking
to himself. Don’t look over here; please don’t look over here…</i> Wait. Take a
moment to think about the fringe people of our society- the discarded, the
uncared for, the neglected. Would you not lose your mind if left with this
emptiness? Most will say there is no dignity in this man. I say there is.
Why? Because he keeps going! He may
sleep outside and only have two pairs of pants, but Sweet Lord!, this man
endures. Is there not dignity in that? Perhaps that is the highest rank of
dignity. To get shit on your entire life by systemic, cultural and economic
structures you cannot even begin to fathom and in the face of that say, “Fuck
you life! I will keep going until you deem it is my time. Sure I will talk to
myself on the train, because well, Fuck, no one else will talk to me. Yeah, I
will also piss myself because it feels warm at the time when I am sleeping
under the tracks on a chilly March morning in Chicago.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
And then, here you go- my point. Dignity exists all around
us. Sure, I may have applied it with the least non-judgmental, perceptive
filter here, but I only did that to drive home a point. It is remarkably easy
to judge, and way more difficult to perceive. Funny thing about perception
though- the more you do it the better you get at it; and, get this, it does in
fact make life more meaningful. Don’t believe me, believe one of the great
minds of our time** (God rest his soul).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
**See David Foster Wallace’s commencement speech at Kenyon College here:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<u>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8CrOL-ydFMI</u></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
**You can also read it here:<o:p></o:p></div>
<a href="http://web.ics.purdue.edu/~drkelly/DFWKenyonAddress2005.pdf">http://web.ics.purdue.edu/~drkelly/DFWKenyonAddress2005.pdf</a><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-72167582363707575762014-03-22T14:32:00.000-07:002014-03-22T14:32:07.854-07:00Mind Altering Everything<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Easy it is to know what a substance will do to us. The
first run may be exciting, scary, weird, alarming, calming or euphoric. Understandably,
this is the first dance and the experience is new. Eventually, the
effects may become familiar and even inviting. We may find ourselves turning
to it almost unconsciously, like a reflex of the mind. At this point, it takes
a certain brand of self-awareness to avoid dependency or addiction. It is dangerous ground to find more comfort in the bedrooms of the altered mind than in the foyer of the
soul. In this dark scenario, the physical substance becomes the key to those
rooms and the hand will not let go.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
This post is not about addiction. It is not even really
about physical substances. It is about something far different. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Think about the first time you tried something forbidden-
a cigarette, a beer or something else… <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
A cigarette is lit and smoke is pulled into the lungs.
Nicotine breaks the blood-brain barrier and begins to bind to receptors in the
brain. Thoughts become more vivid, while
a certain buzz of a calming, but stimulating variety is felt. One may, of
course, cough and realize this smoke being pulled into the lungs has adverse
side effects. Regardless, the mind is altered ever so slightly by this physical
substance. Step forward in time. Another cigarette will surely be pulled from
the pack and sparked up. This cycle will continue until a steely resolve breaks
the loop. Of course, a single cigarette or even one drag may be all it takes to
never touch it again. <i>This is a physical
substance that alters the mind.</i> <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
A couple beers are knocked back. Feelings of stress or
tension begin to wash away. Behind the scenes, the ethanol begins to suppress
the central nervous system as the GABA receptors fire up. The consumer is most
likely indifferent to this particular knowledge of the chemical workings. It is
rather the physical, mental and emotional effects that are felt as inhibitions
fall to the wayside. Suddenly, everything may seem more vibrant. The
personality comes forth and one can’t help but to feel more engaging,
intriguing and entertaining. These perceptions can be delusions, or at the very
least, a variance of a delusion. That is the ugly underbelly of alcohol. It
lights us up while also muddying our perceptions of others, the world and the
self. Take it to its darkest degree- it numbs. Herein lays the escape, a way to
run from unresolved internal and external battles. Unfortunately far too many
people lock themselves in this bedroom of the altered mind. It takes
unrelenting courage and strength to bust that door down and walk downstairs
into the foyer of the soul. <i>This is a
physical substance that alters the mind.</i> <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Drugs, drugs, drugs; Illicit or legal; Acquired from
friend or a pharmacist; Tolerated or shunned; Pill or herb; Synthetic or
natural; Take your pick. There are so many mind altering substances out there,
each with their own unique effect and relationship with the user. They can
excite, ignite, dull, warm, cool or take us to other places. No need to
elaborate anymore (no admission of use). <i>These
are physical substances that alter the mind.</i> <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
It doesn’t just stop at physical substances; not by a
long shot. Here is the hidden realm. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
You make someone laugh. I mean really laugh! You tell an absurd
or ridiculous joke and they laugh so hard that tears well up. They fire back
with a story, not just any story, but one that puts you right there with them at
that moment in time. You see the street, the lights, the faces and their reactions,
but you were never there. You are at the command of an expert storyteller. The
peak of the event comes spilling forth as you break into uncontrollable laughter.
Blood flow increases in the brain as stress hormones take a nose dive. Endorphins
fire around and euphoria sweeps over the mind. A unique and sacred connection
is forged between two friends. <i>This is a metaphysical
experience that alters the mind.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
You fall for someone, I mean really fall. Everything they
say is everything you want to hear. The physical (attraction) and metaphysical
(connection) merge as love comes floating up out of the ether. The mind
obsesses and you are fully staged in the only socially acceptable form of
insanity. In the brain, serotonin drops as dopamine rises and new images and
emotions are seared into the amygdala. Describing lovesickness this way sounds
so sterile and modern. Perhaps, I should try to describe it the way a romantic
poet would have.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<i>Where once I saw the sun<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<i>Where once I saw the moon<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<i>Where once I saw the stars<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<i>I now see you<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<i>I once was me<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<i>You once were you<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<i>One we are now,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<i>No longer two<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Spirituality is not dead; muted sure, but not dead. The
unfortunate state of the modern world is that spirituality has been sent out to
pasture while things I prefer not to mention occupy us. What then do we talk
about when we talk about spirituality? It is not physical thing by any means.
In fact, it is the highest arch of the metaphysical. It is not religion, but it
is the individual who feels that connection with a god on the deepest level. It
is not yoga, but it is the person who understands the hidden realms not just in
yoga, but also in ritual, meditation and the natural world. Spirituality is
also not solely some ethereal thing. It is most definitely personal and if you
want a practical example then here you go- Family. There is most definitely
spirituality in family for there is love and devotion on the deepest levels. Ideally,
the love for a parent or child surpasses all others. And here is the kicker-
when a patriarch or matriarch passes, we still feel their presence. I suppose
you can explain that away with memories and brain chemistry, but then again,
that is too sterile and modern. Besides, we are talking the metaphysical here
and so….<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>This is a metaphysical experience that alters
the mind.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-73471428717852237372014-02-08T15:00:00.000-08:002014-02-08T15:20:21.295-08:00Loss<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Something is ripped away, never to be returned. An empty
space takes up residence in the chest and the heart implodes. Every fiber in
the body pulses and vibrates with the saddest and most painful frequencies. Chills are sent down the spine as a warning siren begins to blare. The emotional flood gates open and suddenly you are
at the mercy of the torrents of grief, with each
rush more volatile and violent than the previous. Sadness, with its heart-wrenching
cruelty, begins to wash over you, followed by the lashing waves of anger and
rage. Fear is felt on the most primal level and it incapacitates. At times your
head may pop above the surface. You may catch a glimpse of radiant sunlight
emerging from behind a dark cloud. Rest assured the flood will pull you back
under. The emotional currents have begun to swirl and merge. What drags you
back under this time will not have a distinct signature for it is the perverse
muddying of the others. Your head once again pops above the surface and your
lungs gasp for air. Light briefly kisses the cheek, only to disappear behind a
cloud. Sadness then pulls you further down the river and the whole process
repeats itself again and again. Finally, your weak and mangled body settles in
the chilly backwaters of loneliness and there you lie.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
This loss can represent many things. A beloved parent
passes away. A loving relationship turns cold and dissolves. A dream is ripped
from the realm of possibility. Or, just simply, you grow older and change,
losing a meaningful part of yourself in the process. Regardless of the loss, we
most certainly know what was and what is now, no more.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>There is no love
without loss</i>.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
There is no way to experience life without also
experiencing profound loss. If we choose not to love, then we lose all the
light, warmth, joy and enrichment of love. That, in its own way, is a form of
loss. If then we choose to love, then the specter of loss haunts the love, only
to manifest itself when the light disappears. Often, there is little to no
control over whom we choose to love. Could you choose not to love a parent, a
child, a friend or a lover? Sure, after enough pain and hurt the love will be diminished,
but it will always be there. Possibly the only thing we truly have control over
is <i>how much</i> we choose to love. The degree to how much we love is the true measure of courage and strength, because the more we love the more we lose. <o:p></o:p></div>
Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-84155501707600536202013-11-20T17:45:00.001-08:002013-11-20T18:41:33.641-08:00Screens<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinfHSFIKbQygi_tmpnkZazVPGmqiTQOVScbwuDc2I-8PHeXSlnW4trU6MgVpn5uUu7W5GOIqdKqtEoQ0pOFT1lCLFCN7hSGXH2MyolxEwPc8XHdY92DWOYD6Uv47enGgpjlqPdWF0Ir0M/s1600/Reflecting+Screens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinfHSFIKbQygi_tmpnkZazVPGmqiTQOVScbwuDc2I-8PHeXSlnW4trU6MgVpn5uUu7W5GOIqdKqtEoQ0pOFT1lCLFCN7hSGXH2MyolxEwPc8XHdY92DWOYD6Uv47enGgpjlqPdWF0Ir0M/s320/Reflecting+Screens.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
How many hours per day do you spend looking at a screen? 2? 4? 8? 10? 12? More? Before you answer, think about all the screens within our unrestricted reach these days: smartphones, computers, tablets and televisions. My guess is that if each of us took the time to really reflect on this question, then the accurate answer would be alarming. Of course, it is alarming only from a certain perspective, the one that sees human behavior beyond the technological revolution, before the time in which so much information, entertainment, news, self promotion and digital voyeurism was so cleanly packaged and laid at our feet. <br />
<br />
Now before I come across as a technophobe, know that I am not. I am also not arrogant or pompous. I don't pretend to be above a certain kind of dependence on technology. If answered honestly, I would estimate I spend anywhere from 12 to 14 hours a day locked on a screen. I wake up early and, from home, log into WebEx calls with team members from the US and India. Afterwards, I clean myself up, dress appropriately for the time of year (<i>Here in Chicago, the time of year REALLY dictates how one should dress</i>), and then hop on my bike or a city bus or train. If I opt for the bike, I have roughly 30 minutes before I am back in front of a screen. If I opt for public transit, then I most likely have my phone out, checking news articles or catching up with Facebook updates while on the commute. Once in the office, I set up my laptop. There I sit for roughly 8 hours, behind a screen, only leaving my cube for coffee/tea, bathroom breaks, lunch, occasional walks and chats with co-workers. I return home in the early evening, again checking my phone during the commute if not on my bike. An hour of decompression time kicks in, usually not behind screen. I may have a beer or a chat with my wife. Rest assured, I will be fixated on a screen again at some point in the early evening, usually to catch up on TV shows or to watch sports games. This is a routine workday. Yes, I do have a life inside and outside of this. I have flesh-and-bone friends. I bike, play pool, fish, camp and so on, but the overwhelming amount of my time is spent behind a screen. <br />
<br />
So here, you get the point I am driving at. We are spending far too much of our fleeting time behind screens.<br />
<br />
Begin the list of questions...<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Why are we so easily fixated on a screen?</b><br />
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For starters, we are curious beings. We love to learn, laugh, share and be intrigued. We even like to be repulsed by something, as it reaffirms our tastes. Screens fulfill these positive needs much more efficiently than anything else in our history. Whether it is watching some well scripted and finely acted television drama (<i>See Breaking Bad. No seriously, see it if you haven't) </i>or it is scouring the internet for status updates, news, pictures, reviews, humor and the like, we are pulled in and held there.<br />
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Don't forget, screens also answer our negative need. No, I'm not talking about porn. I am talking about 'distraction'. It is remarkably easy to allow the nit and grit of life to rest to the side, while we sit in our tight, pristine bubbles of screen glaze. It is far to easy to ignore a troubled relationship, personal short comings, that next big thing, and most intensely, our own disjointed moods, when our eyes glow the same warm glow as the screen.<br />
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<b>Why are there so many screens available?</b><br />
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Welcome to life in the developed world. Do you think people in Papua New Guinea are facing these existential questions? The whole of our strength is our economy. The whole of our economy is selling that 'next big thing'. Combine the streamlined capitalist model with geek power and you have a device that can make calls anywhere in the world, show you the picture of someone's baby (<i>that someone being someone you haven't seen in a decade</i>), display your exact geographic location on a map and the closest place to purchase great tacos, no less at a restaurant, which complete and utter strangers have rated at 4 stars or greater.<br />
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<b>What is this behavior doing to us?</b><br />
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Well, that is an uncomfortable question. It forces a great deal of introspection and heightened perception. I can't claim to have the correct answer, because it asks "What is happening?" and "Where is it leading us?". It is always a tricky thing to answer the present and paint the future. At best, let's say it is not the best or worst thing to happen to us as human beings. We are becoming more informed, educated, and united through the magic of screens. On the flip side, we are becoming less engaged with each other and even ourselves. When you stare at a screen, you don't stare in to the eyes of another. When you stare at a screen, you don't stare in to yourself.<br />
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<b>Where is the future of screens going?</b><br />
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This is not exactly science fiction anymore. Google introduced "Google Glasses" last year amid mixed reviews and horrified skeptics. Don't worry, this is just the infancy and these types of technology will begin to take hold as we dive headlong and headfirst into the future. For now, let's call it 'augmented reality'. Eventually, we won't be able to separate the real world and the internet world. One will lay on top of the other, and vice versa. A screen on top of a screen on top of a screen.<br />
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<b>Are all screens physical, or do screens exist metaphysically</b>?<br />
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Ha! That is the fun part of making my own questions. I can ask myself and my readers a deeper question. I will argue for the existence of a metaphysical screen. We inherently see the world through a perceptive screen. It colors the way we see the world and our place in it. It skews how we see others and even how we see ourselves. This is both the massive flaw and beautiful form of consciousness. We see things how we want to see them. The world is much more beautiful this way. When the picture fails to align we feel discomfort, distress and even despair. Perhaps, that is why we love artificial screens so much. The screens projected by gadgets allow us to see the world the way we would like to see it; The way we like to see each other; The way we like to see ourselves.<br />
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As with all things, the solution is not an all-or-nothing approach. No throwing out the baby with the bathwater here, even if that baby is a sexy iPhone 8 or Galaxy S(infinity symbol). The happiness is in the balance. The ultimate answer may be that we should engage ourselves and each other as much, if not more, than we engage the screens.Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-35328019126135254902013-09-23T14:24:00.000-07:002013-09-24T09:11:33.750-07:00We are Not Autonomous<br />
<div>
While the idea of Individualism is not unique to Western
culture, the degree to which it is embraced is culturally unique. The roots are embedded in Greek
aesthetics and philosophy. This tree sprouted from the fertile seed of
"Humanism". An idea that ((wo)man) is the apex of value and that
great things could be accomplished on earth without the help of the gods. This
idea contrasted sharply with the previous notions of muses and meddling gods
who, in some myths, would literally manifest themselves upon earth to influence
human beings. As centuries passed and Christianity spread across the continent,
the human side of Jesus was emphasized. Even though Christian belief considered
him divine, he was never called God. He was considered the son of God, the
divine embodied in flesh. His life was worshiped. The human side of him shone
through. Then the renaissance brought humanism back in full swing. Greek
classics were studied. The age of reason helped bring about exploration,
scientific achievement, democracy, industry and capitalism.</div>
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What we have now is world blanketed by a multifarious
network of beliefs. This western idea of individuality has melded with eastern
ideas of spirituality, aboriginal beliefs of nature worship and so on. This
sometimes leads to beautiful new ideas or ways of thinking, just as much as it
results in existential vacillation or clashes of culture. Moreover, a new world
appears to be emerging from the old. While I have theories, I cannot say what
this new world will ultimately be. No one can.</div>
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Returning to this emphasis on individualism, one of the
things that makes America and similar societies great, is the concept that a
person can rise up from humble beginnings and make something out of nothing.
This of course is a shinning ideal and not easily realized, but it does happen.
Additionally, it is empowering, in the true sense of the word, to take command
of one’s own life. "Trust in your capabilities, there by manifesting your own
future." What a beautiful thought! The grittier side of a life lived with too
much focus on individualism is a certain brand of despair. I'll call it
"despair-isolation", or the despair of isolation. This thought that
there is nothing of value beyond ourselves plagues people at all ages, but
becomes most apparent at the end of a life, even a powerful life as in the case
of Howard Hughes. This brings me to my ultimate point, the difference between
individualism and autonomy.</div>
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Autonomy, in the most basic sense, simply means
"self rule". It is an idea that is relatively easy to understand when
applying it to concepts of government. As Americans, we embrace this concept
going back to the founding of our government, during which time people did just
that, basically saying, "You will no longer rule us! We will rule
ourselves!" </div>
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The concept of autonomy gets decidedly trickier when you
apply to the individual. It is delusional to say that individuals are
autonomous, or capable of autonomy, although certain thinkers have done so, Ayn
Rand being one of the more outspoken in recent history. It is delusional simply
because it takes individualism to the absolute degree. It disregards everything
else that makes up a person, everything except the person itself. It disregards
the others who have come before you and influenced you- your parents, your
friends, your teachers, your favorite authors or philosophers and even your
very culture. It tosses out the slightest consideration for those who may have
helped you get an edge up or a start. Interestingly, it also ignores many
internal aspects of the person, by emphasizing that rational, decisive side and
ignoring the influential aspect of our moods and emotions, which by their very
nature, we have little to no control over.</div>
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Individualism is fine. I'm all for the empowerment of the
person, or the strengthening of person-hood. However, the world and the person both
suffer when this idea is perverted to the extent of autonomy. We should be just
as responsible for others as we are for ourselves. We should feel comfortable
making our own decisions, but only after recognizing that any decision is the
product of so much more than ourselves. To believe that you rule yourself in
complete entirety is to start on that long, lonely road, which ends in the
desolate lands of despair and isolation. </div>
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Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-25672287674563914162013-09-05T19:37:00.001-07:002013-09-06T14:57:56.022-07:00It's PassingI fell passionately into writing my blog at the beginning of the year. Thoughts and images would suddenly light up my mind and to keep the fire burning I bled the words out onto the web. This would be for my own benefit and, as I came to feel, the benefit of others. No pride... OK, that is a lie. I felt swells of gratification knowing others enjoyed my posts. Why else would I write something for others to read? We all seem to be doing that these days with social media and digital-inter-connected-ness. Then, something happened. I stopped writing. I didn't become lazy or apathetic. I didn't move onto other passions, neglecting my desire to share my thoughts with others in the process. I know what happened. This post is about that. This post is about its passing.<br />
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Try to describe the severity of a true depression. Only those who have been crushed under its weight, or emptied out by its alien darkness can identify with it. Even then, everyone's experience is different and if one could relate it would be difficult. For you see, inside a depression, you don't feel like yourself. You don't even feel like someone else. You feel like nothing. In this sense, the word depression doesn't depict it properly. That implies that you have been 'pressed down' by something. In truth, it becomes almost impossible to engage in beneficial activities (both external and internal), and while 'pressed down' describes that, it doesn't even scratch the surface of the vacuuming effect, the flatness or the numbness.</div>
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Which emotion is the darkest it gets? Grief? Despair? Anger? As bad as those feelings are, you can still remain intact while writhing through their unsettling grips. Often, you can come out stronger if they can be reconciled. The darkest it gets is when you don't feel anything anymore. </div>
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The two most alarming experiences I had during the height of my depression were these.</div>
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4 a.m. I wake up suddenly. I don't recall a dream. I am scared without feeling scared. I feel like a shell. I feel absolutely nothing and it came out of nowhere. In fact, just 6 hours before I was meeting with ex coworkers, having drinks and lively conversations. I fell asleep as one person and woke up as a non-person. That is the only way to say it. The emptiness was the only thing I could feel. It is weird to say and ever weirder to recollect. The only thing I felt was no feeling.</div>
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Mid-afternoon, several months later. It's spring. Having drinks with family and friends, I am trying my best to ignore the specter of depression. I joke. I laugh (but I don't quite feel it). Things seem to be going well. No trigger. No reason. Suddenly, what little feeling I was building up on the inside is suddenly ripped out. I called it a 'vacuuming effect'. I stand there emptied out. Again, I am a non-person and it is the most unsettling thing I have experienced. I felt so disconnected I thought I may suddenly emerge in a alternative world. This, I've come to learn is disassociation.</div>
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I won't dive into suicidal ideation. Not here. Now now. The only thing I will say is that in other circumstances, suicidal thoughts might seem like morbid fantasies inspired by selfish motives. The way a teenager might think, "I wonder just how sad people would be if I wasn't around". However, suicidal thoughts, framed inside a severe depression, take on a perverse brand of pragmatism. Simply, make the outer become like the inner. Make the flesh die just as the inside has died.</div>
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Redemption comes from love. This is true and will always be true. I don't mean to say this as some silly fortune cookie would read. Rather, I mean to say, I only sought help after being convinced by those who love me that what I was going through was as dark as it gets and that I needed to seek professional help. Pride aside, I went. I learned and I began to heal. I am not touting the benefits of therapy. It is simply a tool that worked for me this time. Long ago I healed myself from a severe depression in my youth, not with therapy, but rather by breaking through to inner realms, uncharted territory. It can be done both ways or maybe even one hundred different ways.</div>
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When I say "It is passing", I mean exactly that. I didn't expect to wake up one day cured. The thing is a process and it takes time to move on. I learned tools along way. Gradually, I learned to feel again. My God! How good the first real emotion feels after not feeling for so long, even if that emotion is sadness. I never would have imagined how good sadness could feel. The biggest lesson I came to learn is that our minds can take us to so many different planes of existence. There is no teeth, no hair, no flesh to any given thought that enters our heads. It is just that, a thought. Our minds don't define us and we should be very careful about putting too much stock in them. There is so much more to us than our thoughts. </div>
Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-86974487656118001742013-04-16T15:04:00.000-07:002013-04-16T15:04:23.005-07:00The Poisoned Mind<br />
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Perhaps it starts with the absence of love, a landscape so
barren that the tree of life fails to take root. Tender leaves wither and crack
with color fading to dull grays and browns. As rot and decay work their way
throughout the interior the structure falters, falling violently to the ground.
Prostrate and dead, this once living thing becomes its own host to perverse
life with the feast of fungus and pests. Brilliant radiance no longer grows.
Seeds that perpetuate new life no longer fall to the ground.</div>
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Then again, it may start with a love turned perverse. An
overwhelming love that shines so brightly it blinds the eyes to the world
around them. The individual and the love merge in a coupling so powerful that
an entirely different form of isolation is manifested. With connections to
others severed, a violent possessiveness consumes the relationship and any
slight against the love is an act of war. This love is not a person, it is an
idea.</div>
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This is the poisoned mind. Regardless of how it got there,
we see the results in evil and depraved acts. It is virtually impossible to
make sense of these events. We don’t live inside that decayed landscape. The
isolation, rage, torment and twisted fantasies are singular to that infected realm. The act belongs to that twisted mind, but the results belong to all of us.</div>
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At best, we can only label it “evil”. The only form of
effective combat is to allow our better natures to shine forward. Fight
darkness with light ~ Life over death ~ Love above all else.</div>
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I can only end this with a question. Does the world poison our
minds or do our minds poison the world? I suppose both are true to equal
degrees.</div>
Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-6792224058509397662013-03-26T20:05:00.002-07:002013-03-28T11:21:20.328-07:00Using Your Morality EthicallyThe distinction between ethics and morality is not always clear. It can be easy to fall into the trap of using these two terms interchangeably. Both concepts carry the flag of 'Good', or what we perceive as those actions which are considered "right". While similar, they are not identical. The distinction can be recognized when you link these concepts to other ideas, two other words which take on a more defined shape in our minds: Beliefs and Principles.<br />
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Morality can be thought about as a system of beliefs regarding how one should conduct oneself in personal relationships and in society. These beliefs are often influenced by religious teachings, schools of thought and personal values. Ethics, on the other hand, refer to set or system of principles, or a philosophy or theory behind them. In its simplest form, ethics can be thought about as a 'code of conduct'. More deeply, it is considered a philosophical analysis of a moral system.<br />
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If morality is more closely linked to 'Beliefs', then it takes on the essence of feeling. If ethics are tied to principles or codes of conduct, then it huddles more closely with reason.<br />
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Morals-Belief-Feeling ~~~~ Ethics-Principles-Reason <br />
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The distinction I just outlined was meant to draw these concepts apart. Let's put them back together. As stated early, ethics can also be the philosophy of morals. You can analyze a moral system, pulling it apart piece by piece and then reassembling it to see a larger picture. A moral belief might be to never kill another human being. An ethical analysis of this might reveal it is immoral not to kill in unique circumstances, such as stopping a shooter who is indiscriminately picking off innocent victims at a shopping mall. In this scenario, what is considered immoral in different light, such as killing another for selfish motives, can now be seen as moral. Here, motive shifts the morality. Inaction becomes immoral. The act of killing a shooter results in saving the lives of others, which is arguably a selfless act and deemed moral.<br />
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Now to arrive at what got me thinking about these things. This week the Supreme Court of the United States is considering the constitutionality of gay marriage cases (Proposition 8 and the Defense of Marriage Act). At their core, both cases are visibly divisive. The values of two divergent moral systems are colliding inside, and outside, the highest court in the land.<br />
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Here you see a picture of demonstrators arguing opposing views: </div>
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Religious and traditional groups see gay marriage as an assault on their moral codes. Their beliefs are being challenged. If one believes God designates homosexuality as a sin, then of course it falls in line that condoning gay marriage is an immoral act. The opposing argument takes this religious or traditional notion out of the picture and simply asks, "If two people love each other, should they not be granted the same rights as everyone else?"<br />
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I will not dissect the morals of both arguments, for that is an endless loop fed by the inflexible natures of two diametrically opposed beliefs. I would much rather apply ethical reasoning to these moral arguments. More specifically, I would like to apply ethical reasoning to the argument I stand strongly for.<br />
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The only ethical argument (and it is not very ethical) against gay marriage is that love between a man and a woman is the only 'good' love and all other forms of love are evil or sinful. Since some consider homosexual love to be evil, then it is their ethics to deny those individuals the right to marry. The false ethic here is the freedom to deny others freedom based on a personal religious sentiment.<br />
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The ethical arguments for gay marriage are plentiful. To grant gay marriage is to grant the ability for two loving people to hold each others hands, walk down the aisle and unite before loving friends and family. It is to grant the shared benefits that married couples currently enjoy: tax, insurance and medical benefits. Quite simply, it is to grant the right for two people to take a loving, committed relationship to the next level, to seal it with a symbolic bond. <br />
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My moral code spins around a core belief, or truth. Known as the Golden Rule, or Ethic of Reciprocity, it simply states to treat others as you would like to be treated and to not treat others as you would not like to be treated. Moreover, it is ethical to act against those whose moral codes lack this core truth. When one imposes their morality in a willful or bigoted manner over another, causing harm to that other, for the purpose of reaffirming a moral code, then that morality is most definitively immoral and by all rights unethical. It is perfectly fine to have your own moral system, but you should always consider the ethics of applying it to others.Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-86599631576982263552013-03-04T17:20:00.002-08:002013-03-04T17:31:28.525-08:00The Human VoiceA cell phone sitting idly on the coffee table begins to vibrate and project out some obnoxious digital melody. The device is picked up and the phone icon is tapped with a casual, almost autonomic, motion of the primary index finger. With the phone brought next to the face, the word "Hello" is spoken in a soft, friendly manner. A familiar sound is then returned from the digital speaker. It is the voice of a loved one. The sound, funneled through the outer ear canal, gently vibrates the ear drum, sending frequencies through the canals and spirals of the inner ear. In an virtual analog-to-digital shift, these signals are translated to nerve impulses by the auditory nerve and passed to the brain stem, ultimately processed in the auditory cortex of the brain. Feedback loops work throughout this rapid transaction, allowing a definitive sound to be recognized. Without knowing the physical and biological mechanisms at play, a smile it brought to the face and you think, <i>Dad</i>.<br />
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Sounds affect us in so many ways. Some are abrasive and assaulting, such as the sirens of emergency vehicles or the racket of a busy construction site. Some are exhilarating like the music heard at a local bar or concert venue. Others can be simply mundane: wind, fans, hums, background chatter, trucks and the like. Few, however, are as intimate as the human voice.<br />
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The human voice has such a signature quality to it. Sure, some voices can sound similar, naturally or mimicked, but no two human voices are identical. Each person's voice is as unique as their other features: face, body type, gait, smell, personality and so on. However, those other qualities may never touch us in the same intimate way as the voice.<br />
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A voice is so remarkably personal. It clicks into our mind from the start and before we realize it we are making judgments. The loudness of a voice generally relates to perceived confidence- a soft, meek sound being associated to a lack of such, or a boisterous sound being a sign of supreme confidence, to the point of possible arrogance. The pitch, or frequency, of a person's voice can affect us is many different ways. Perhaps the easiest example to relate pitch to is the reaction of arousal. A deep, bass-heavy voice exudes strong masculine energy, while a softer, gentler tone can cry out sensual or nurturing femininity. The clarity, or crispness of the sound might influence how intelligent we believe the person to be. Emotion can of course be detected very quickly through the rate or flow of spoken words: Shakiness betrays nervousness or fear; Strong, powerful and quick words throw up the signs of passion or rage; Gentle whispers are the ambassadors love and affection.<br />
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Accents play their own role. They effect the 'music' of someone's voice. Words or parts of words, such as vowels, can be sped up or drawn out (especially if you are Southern). Foreign accents can bestow comfort, intrigue, confusion or arousal simply because they sing a foreign or exotic melody in our minds. Accents are also adaptable. I find myself slipping into more of a Southern way of speaking when I'm around old friends in North Carolina. My accent accelerates around my new friends in the Midwest. Most of the time this is unconsciously controlled.<br />
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In terms of the power of the voice (and by this I mean the staying power or affect in your mind), no voice will surpass that of a parent. You heard the voice of the mother and possibly even the father, resonating in muffled tones through the womb before the light of the world shone upon your small and fragile body. As you aged, your parents' voices were directing and guiding you. Additionally, these guardian sounds shaped the own way you speak and how you speak.<br />
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It is for the reason above that I feel so very sad and heartbroken to hear my fathers voice slowly morphing and disappearing as Bulbar Onset ALS takes his strength away. He conquers this hindrance with slow, thoughtful and forced words or with the aid of technology in the form of text-to-speech applications on his smartphone and iPad. <br />
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While technology assists those who otherwise cannot communicate, as with the example of my father, it also inhibits human interaction because it is taking away the sound of the voice. Emails, IMs, text messages and social media expand the reach and ease of our messages but remove some of the intimacy. When we don't hear each other's voices, we don't hear the strength, tones, accents, sexuality or emotion coming through in one beautiful, unique sound that is the human voice.Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-74472443463158911352013-02-27T21:51:00.001-08:002013-02-27T21:51:52.224-08:00Toska<br />
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“Toska - noun /ˈtō-skə/ - Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness.<br /><br />"No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.”</h1>
<br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">― </span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5152.Vladimir_Nabokov" style="background-color: white; color: #666600; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: initial;">Vladimir Nabokov</a></div>
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I love discovering a new word. Especially when that word puts a face on, or at least helps outline the form of a deeply complex thought/emotion/concept. Words are the very things that allow us to crystallize the abstract world at our feet. It is even more intriguing when this word is foreign to our own vernaculars. We see more clearly that no one language can possibly encompass all the shades and hues of human experience. I imagine this can be a nightmare for translators, yet it is also the reason I envy multilingual individuals.<div>
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What then is "Toska"? The English language lacks a word for this complex concept. Vladimir Nabokov is noted as being the one who most eloquently described it in English terms. </div>
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Read the quote above. You can most certainly relate to it on one or many levels. You may have felt Toska at some point and been conscious of it or, you may have also experienced it and not been aware what was winding its way through your spiritual being. You may be feeling it now. "Depressed" does not do it justice- it is too vague. "Existential Crisis" might fit the mold slightly better, but it is underpinned with the might of a philosophical ocean of ideas whose currents pull you away from what the Russians intended.</div>
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I think the beauty of this word (of course, understanding that 'beauty' is an odd way to describe such a soul-wrenching thing) is that its vibration is common to us all, regardless of what language or culture we were born into. I see a progression to how Nabokov describes it and will do my best to describe it now.</div>
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Think about it as a spiritual or emotional spectrum:</div>
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Boredom <---------------Yearning-----------------> Great Spiritual Anguish</div>
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Then think about less as a spectrum and more as a circle, which doesn't always flow in the same direction. All meanings can be present. Some may be highlighted at different times based the flux of the mood. Boredom can lead to indescribable yearning. This yearning can gnaw at your spiritual core until it becomes torment. Conversely, the starting point can be spiritual torment or anguish. This can bend to a restlessness to change, yet the yearning is aimless. Spiritual fuel is burnt and the futility of it leads to surrender. Ennui then takes hold.</div>
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This is Toska.</div>
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The hindrance of language and culture might be at the very core of Toska. The unease sets in when our words falls short. When we want with no object in mind; When we plop our happiness down in another time or place; When we cannot put a face on what is causing that unsettling soulache; That is when Toska rears its ugly head.</div>
Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-46214223948646424072013-02-19T19:48:00.003-08:002013-02-19T19:48:42.547-08:00Entheogens and Modern ShamanismA darkness has descended on the village. A child is sick. The cough started during the last moon and now the fire of the sun consumes the body one moment, followed by the chill of the night's air the next. The elements seem to be at war, forces too strong for this fragile body. The mother is in tears, clinging to the child and speaking the same sounds in a hushed, desperate succession. The others gather silently around, feeling the distress, but powerless to help. Out of the dark comes sounds echoing forward- the crumbling of leaves and the shifting of pebbles. A dark figure emerges, clad in furs and painted with tattoos. In a trance-like state, he walks up to the mother and crouches beside her. With one palm placed on her forehead and the other on the child's belly, the healer begins to chant. A small pouch of herbs is then pulled from his waist belt and inserted under the child's tongue. Water is slowly dripped from a flask on the feverish forehead. Slowly, the chills begin to cease. The shaman cups his hand over the child's mouth. Then, standing up, he extends his cupped hands to the heavens and shouts as the fingers are flayed wide and the dark energy is released. With the child and mother in a state of tranquil exhaustion, he turns and walks back into the darkness.<br />
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Stories like the one above are common to all of our pasts. That is one of the beautiful things about shamanism- almost every pocket of humanity has at one point had these archaic forms of healers and teachers. To be a shaman meant to teach, heal and help others see into hidden realms. They would prepare young men for manhood. They would use herbs and elements to bind wounds or drive out fevers. They would induce hallucinations in themselves or others with the use of psychoactive plants to solve an array of emotional or spiritual dilemmas.<br />
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Is there a place for shamans today? Relatively easy arguments can be made that the utility shamans once provided is now obsolete. Public and private educational systems foster teaching and learning. Institutions aside, individuals can now teach themselves anything with the click of a mouse. Healing, while not perfect, has become remarkably sophisticated with breakthrough drugs and treatments. Emotional and mental disorders, as they are labeled by the psychological community, can be diminished, or only muted, with powerful drugs and intimate therapy sessions.<br />
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Did I just forget something? I believe I did. What of solutions for spiritual pathways? What answer does our modern world have for that? I don't mean to belittle religion's effectiveness, but I have found these offerings provide little beyond spiritual 'comfort'. In that, I mean to say, churches provide a level of spiritual order, like a safe neighborhood for the soul where you recognize others in the same community. Here, you can be both freed and limited- free to explore the meanings of the world within these streets, but limited to see anything much outside of the gates. The shaman would be lost here, for he operates on the other side of the gates.<br />
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What then do you do if you find yourself in a <i>toska </i>(I will get to this term in my next post), brought about by a spiritual or existential emptiness? There is no shaman now to carry you away from the village, hand you a wad of leaves to chew, close your eyes and ultimately open your mind. There is no shaman, but there are entheogens.<br />
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An entheogen is simply a substance, preferably organic, such as a plant or a mushroom, capable of allowing your mind to connect to something else, generally in the spiritual sense. These can be psilocybin mushrooms, DMT, LSD, peyote, marijuana or others. I am aware of the criminality of acquiring or using these substances. I am also aware of the misuse, abuse and dangers involved in their use. When taken with the proper respect, they can open new doors, new pathways to seeing your world more clearly, or at the very least, differently. <br />
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Instead of speaking in vague generalities, as I tend to do on this blog, I will turn this focus inward and become more intimate with myself and anyone still concerned with reading my thoughts. I will speak to my first experience with psilocybin mushrooms.<br />
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I first tried these when I was in college, as many people tend to do. Admittedly, I was in a bit of a funk before using them. I was depressed. Being a year from graduating, I saw little meaning or relevance in upcoming adult life. Its vapid emptiness stretched out before me. I saw no spiritual or lasting value in acquiring material wealth, propagating myself or forming a career. Every thought left me more empty and withdrawn. A friend approached me and said, "Let's do these mushrooms together." I was slightly afraid, but something inside me was intrigued. I said yes.<br />
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We chose to split a bag- on a piece of bread with peanut butter to mask the pungent taste. Initially, I felt nothing out of the ordinary. Only ten minutes in, I thought it wise to jump in my car with my friend and take a drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway. A mile down the road, I quickly learned this was a poor decision. The lines on the road, reflected by my headlights, began to glow and shimmer. It felt as if I was in a video game. I pulled over and turned to my friend and said, "We should probably turn around." Turn around we did. We got back to the house and walked up to the front porch to light a cigarette. The flame glimmered and burned, deeper than anything I had seen before. Then, out of nowhere, the neighbor came up to us and began telling an obscure joke. I can't remember the punchline, only that it was vaguely ethnic. I think it was a slight against Polish people, whom I had never met or had any reason to generalize. Regardless, we laughed and then suddenly the porch expanded outward and it felt like I was fifty feet away from the uninvited neighbor. I walked around the side of the house and vomited. My friend found me and led me into the basement, where we proceeded to sit on couches and watch the patterns of hanging tapestries dance and vibrate to the music that was playing from a boombox. I came down several hours later sitting in a convertible car, watching the clouds in the midnight sky, accented by a nearly full moon, slowly return to their natural glory.<br />
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Now, this was my first experience. Many others have had their own unique, powerful, profound, disturbing and memorizing experiences with entheogens. I don't claim this to be a fail-safe solution to <i>toska</i>, or spiritual emptiness. I will say that my experience pulled me out of a depression. For one night, I saw the world again as a child sees it- glowing, radiant and astonishing. This perspective hung with me afterwards, like a sublime hangover. I'm not the only one. Numerous studies, primarily European, have discerned that these same mushrooms have consistently pulled people out of depressions.<br />
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I believe there is some ancient wisdom to these substances and I wish people to see them for their effectiveness. These aren't "Get Fucked Up" or "Party" drugs. These can reignite spiritual pathways which have been rapidly patched over by the allure of the modern world. We can build ever greater technological advances, but where does that leave us when we continue to feel vapid, isolated and spiritually vacant. Let us find those shamans, wherever they have taken refuge. They still hold a key that is too easy for us to ignore.Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-87286908833465548332013-01-31T19:55:00.002-08:002013-01-31T20:10:22.939-08:00StresssssSSSS<div dir="ltr">
Why talk about something that makes us so uneasy, so off center and so panicked? What can I tell others about something they, no doubt, are feeling, have felt or fear feeling on such deep emotional levels? Well, for one, it is shared, and something shared by all of us deserves to be shared through words.</div>
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Stress exists for a reason. Biologists, psychologists and probably some other *ists I am forgetting can all agree that stress is a natural reaction to external stimuli or environments. It is most likely the reason we are sitting here today, typing away on our computers, building ever greater tools and technologies, populating the planet to such an extent that if the Earth could feel stress it most certainly would. If early humans never felt that spike of fear when they walked across the plain and caught a glimpse of a predator's ears perked motionless just above the tall grass, would that human live long enough to plop out another replica?</div>
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In the early days stress helped us adapt; It helped us survive. As things got complex, as they always seem to do, stress helped us not just avoid the lion, it also helped us adapt to a whole new array of dangers and pitfalls. However, what helps us can also hurt us. Even though stress can give you the kick in the ass you need to find a solution to a complex problem, like say finishing school over the dread of a stagnant or unfulfilled vocational life, it can also disarm and hinder you.</div>
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Stress can occur from and for a variety of reasons. I am choosing to examine three causes- two external and one internal.</div>
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<i>Sudden Impact</i>. This form of stress is relatively easy to describe because it hits us like a gunshot (perhaps sometimes it is a gunshot). You move along in your day with the same small worries and pleasures when suddenly you get broadsided by some terrible event- a car accident, a termination or a call from a close relative with cancer or some other terrible disease. In these circumstances the stress is sudden and overwhelming. You are forced to comprehend and adjust, even though it can be nearly impossible. While the emotional burden can be heavier than a glacier, you can at least link the stress you are feeling with a 'thing'. This can help with rationalizing or compartmentalizing your feelings, but not always.</div>
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<i>Snowball</i>. Here, we have a variety of stress that builds over time, whether we are cognizant of it or not. There are common idioms for this- taking too much on your plate, juggling too many balls or holding up too much weight. Responsibilities are tacked on, bit by bit, and the stress is there in a more muted tone allowing us to adapt and thrive, until it becomes a blaring siren and even simple tasks become tribulations. It can be difficult to identify the trigger, but, most certainly, we know when our every nerve is on edge. Once escalated, this kind of stress is dangerous because one can feel like there is no turning back. This weight can provoke a deeper level of existential nightmares in the dark shapes of distress, panic and despair.</div>
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<i>The Internal Shift</i>. Sometimes it is not our environments that change, sometimes it is us. Life can continue as it has for a long time. You may have started on this road with purpose, direction or passion. These positive highlights begin to bend to complacency or comfort. Before long you are drifting, no longer tethered to your core. You begin to fantasize about new realities, but something in you feels too embedded to uproot. Stress then whips around like a typhoon. Change feels impossible and the road before you begins to represent a direct path to a senseless void.</div>
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Regardless of the stress pressing down, a person will consciously or unconsciously engage in moments of escape. Some methods can be positive, such as exercise, hobbies or nurturing behaviors. More often than not these escapes can take a turn to faster acting remedies with negative associations- alcohol, drugs, abuse or worse. Either escape does not solve the source of the stress, because it is just that- an escape.</div>
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Time to close this thread down the way I prefer- positively abstracted and shining.</div>
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Going back to the original reason we feel stressed in the first place, it is makes us adapters and survivors. If you can take this stress, with all its sleepless nights and dark spirals, and see it as a warning flag, then you can begin to understand that something is out of balance in your life. It may be a struggle to restore order, but it helps to understand that Life-out-of-Balance is a common thing, for we often live in a World-out-of-Balance. I have for some time believed that the core to happiness is not an overflowing of the things we seek with our greedy little egos, but rather a tempered and stabilized balance of the things that make us content and the things that shed unease. Be careful however, for our rapidly industrialized world can make us loose this focus, tipping that scale ever farther in the wrong direction.</div>
Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-74379507702656813022013-01-23T12:59:00.002-08:002013-01-23T13:35:38.933-08:00Time to talk about time.<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">"Light from the stellar explosion that created Cassiopeia A is thought to have reached Earth about 300 years ago, after traveling 11,000 years to get here. While the star is long dead, its remains are still bursting with action. The outer blue ring is where the shock wave from the supernova blast is slamming into surrounding material, whipping particles up to within a fraction of a percent of the speed of light. NuSTAR observations should help solve the riddle of how these particles are accelerated to such high energies." </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSOgK-BDbY6fVw3tSGyQIPPRkMYgteiH2cVbTI-2EiOXa0Ybzl_jVFWRm9WtFpcZJKgRuU_EkvVflFmxgR-FSdeMmuqmYq_Kbt0BhfDP7sDyU9RSuVU43_vug6DRF-beIbBqtli8jTC9A/s1600/Time.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSOgK-BDbY6fVw3tSGyQIPPRkMYgteiH2cVbTI-2EiOXa0Ybzl_jVFWRm9WtFpcZJKgRuU_EkvVflFmxgR-FSdeMmuqmYq_Kbt0BhfDP7sDyU9RSuVU43_vug6DRF-beIbBqtli8jTC9A/s320/Time.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">I poached the picture and description above from NASA's website. If you ever get a chance, visit their Image of the Day website @ http://www.nasa.gov/multimedia/imagegallery/iotd.html</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Is there anything
as consistent as the progression of time? One second passes, followed
by 59 more. There, we have a minute. Another 59 of those pass and we have an hour. 23
hours later and you have a day. 365 days and you have a year... Wait, is it a
leap year? It is? OK then. Give that short, gimpy month of February an extra
day. Oops, I forgot about Daylight savings. Go back and take an hour from March
and hand it over to November so that, uh, I forget why. Anyway, make sure they
don't bicker. Hmm, maybe time isn't as consistent as I thought.<br /><br />Time. So many ways it
can be measured and thought about. Before our sophisticated tools and
technologies, earlier humans (<i>subtle time
reference there</i>) would use what they witnessed in the world and sky around
them to track time: the lengthening or shortening of days, the position of the sun in the sky
or the movement of stars and planets. With time (<i>ha, another one</i>) we came to develop greater means for measuring and
tracking time. It can be tracked down to milliseconds and beyond. This, of course, has its benefits. Imagine the pointlessness of modern
sports without time. I suppose a point based system could still be used, but
that is so absolute. The exhilaration lies within that final 30 seconds of a
college basketball game, when any team could win, simply by playing the clock
the right way or making the right shot. I’ll get into this later.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Immanuel Kant believed
that time was a built-in intuitive or cognitive mechanism to the human mind. In
such, it is much more relational that absolute. Certainly, you can agree that
there is a relational aspect to how we experience time. Sure I can say I was
born in 1980. That is a number that I can subtract from the current year of
2013 and arrive at an approximation of how many years I've been alive on this
planet. However, my perception of the expanse of time and how quickly it passes
has shifted as I have aged. When I was a child, an uncle of mine explained it
to me with a clean example that has always stuck with me. This is it:<br /><br />When you are five years
old and another year passes, that represents only a fifth of everything you
have known. When you are twenty, a year represents a twentieth. When you are
ninety, a year only stands for a fraction of your life. In this way, time slips
away from us, or at least in our perception.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />The example I just
issued should be easy to grasp. Instead of examining our relation to time over
the broad swath of a life, let us look at it from the momentary instant. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />“Time
stood still.” You have heard this before. It typically occurs when something
remarkably mesmerizing, profound or traumatic is taking place- Your eyes fall
upon the most beautiful woman you have ever seen and suddenly the only thing
you experience is her and your heartbeat; You witness a horrific car accident
as it occurs, sparks flying and metal crushing as two-ton objects become
airborne when they should rightfully stay on the ground; You realize a new truth
and your world shifts, never to be looked at the same way again. In these
examples, our minds are being inundated with some new experience that caught us
off guard. Perhaps the perception of time stopping is a defense mechanism to
the influx of dopamine, adrenaline or something else that our brain is
experiencing.<br /><br />Our perception of time
can also be altered, not just by moments, but by external substances. Alcohol,
marijuana and entheogens all have this ability to make time speed up, slow down
or disappear all together. I would love to dive into these examples right now,
but I will leave them for another post.<br /><br />Allow me to return to
the image that got me started on this thread: the one of the stellar explosion. As a
young adult, I learned that objects visible in our night’s sky do not represent an accurate view of everything out there at this moment in time. Instead, rather interestingly, the lights we see in the night sky represent points of time. These stars and galaxies exist
thousands or millions, if not billions of light years away. Meaning, it takes their
distance in time for their light to reach us. Think about that- (their
distance from us)(in time). It was both sad and profound to learn that you
could be viewing light from a massive object that died off half a billion years
ago.<br /><br />Time then takes on
another meaning. We can be experiencing things as if they are real and sitting
right next to us in the flesh, even though their time has long since faded. Take that thought and apply it to some aspects of religion, politics, values or
whatever you choose. You will begin to see the point I’m making. <span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></div>
Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-69675909122321973092013-01-16T22:16:00.001-08:002013-01-17T07:38:36.488-08:00You are your Filter<br />
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You look in the mirror, adjusting a few loose strands of hair. Glancing at your phone, you check the temperature outside. Donning a coat, you grab your keys and open the door; this, all while running through a mental list of priorities. Once outside, you immediately turn to the left and begin a moderately brisk walk. Occasionally leaking into your perception- the smell of exhaust and the sound of engines, humming at different frequencies, as cars pass you on the right. You feel the crisp air bite at your exposed flesh- chilling, dry but clean. Your thoughts transition to wondering about whether you should grab a bagel or simply proceed unimpeded to your destination. A middle-aged man is walking a dog across the street and you begin to ponder the breed of the animal. The sun breaks away from a cloud- it's energetic brilliance suddenly felt in a blinding and uncomfortable way. You squint and turn your face slightly to the side.<br />
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Perception. This idea can represent multiple things. In the objective realm it can simply mean your awareness of the elements through physical sensation. This is simple enough for us to understand. However, it can also stand for abstract concepts: intuitive cognition, capacity for comprehension or, what I would like to expand on: Your Filter.<br />
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No matter how intelligent or observant you believe yourself to be, you cannot comprehend all things at once. Most will agree on this and call it 'omniscience', designating it only to God or gods. <br />
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There is a manifold of things, both physical and abstract, which can be perceived. In turn, the perception can be experienced in an infinite number of ways; and most interestingly, the perception itself can be perceived. <br />
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Now, I realize I just threw a lot out there. Allow me to crystallize as best I can.<br />
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We inherently apply perceptive filters to the world of things and ideas spiraling around us. Like the aperture of a camera, it can only open so wide and remain open for so long before an abundance of light saturates the film, leaving it overexposed. Perhaps that example wasn't the best. The idea I am going for is this- our perceptive filter allows us to focus and function a midst so much information.<br />
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Stand in a packed music venue. Sound blaring, lights flashing, the smells of sweat, spilled drinks, cigarettes and marijuana, all combining to create a new cocktail of aromas and stimuli. This can be exciting, the abundance of sensations drowning out useless thoughts. Just the same, it can also be uncomfortable, requiring you to step outside or retreat to the bar.<br />
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Now sit in a quiet room, perhaps a basement, by yourself. Cut the lights. Introduce a new stimuli. Light a candle and watch the flame flicker, the way it casts a gentle hue across objects, splaying dancing shadows, which create new shapes. Put it out. Play some music. Something that moves you. Listen to a couple tracks; or better yet, the whole album. You probably will hear things you never had before. The point here being to restrict that aperture and sense a particular thing in greater detail.<br />
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Our minds can work a lot like those examples above. We are highly perceptive and can process more things than we realize at any given moment. What we may not realize is that we are processing things on multiple levels. You may only be cognizant of one or two particular levels at a time. Like I mentioned earlier, you can not take in everything all at once. You would become overexposed.<br />
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I'm not sure if I just narrowed down my thoughts to a particular point, or just threw out a lot of ideas. This is a difficult thread to translate. I was going to try to dive into the thought of "thoughts" themselves and how they bend into one another, generally as a result of whatever filter we are applying. That is a little too much right now, and I may just keep talking in circles.<br />
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Finally, to the title of this post: You are your Filter. I'm not claiming to have wrapped up the concept of identity into a neat little package by talking about our filters. However, I will attempt to tie the two together. I believe we can be defined by the filter we apply to the world. This encompasses the little, and even complex, things we choose to focus on. Whatever bias it brings and however it was formed, this is simply our awareness and it makes us us. Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-78677868496876601522013-01-13T23:21:00.000-08:002013-01-14T12:20:08.591-08:00Taking a Stroll<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My last blog entry got me thinking on deeper levels about the ways we get around. Each example I chose involved an external mechanism or technology to assist in the locomotion, either actual or virtual. Unfortunately I left out the most basic, inherent form of travel. Something we have done long before cities were risen and civilizations took form. Something that excited our parents when we were toddlers, leaving some frantic to capture the first moment on picture or film. Something we typically do with purpose, but occasionally do for pleasure: walking, or taking a stroll.<br />
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I'm choosing not to focus on the purpose-driven form, which for this exercise I will call "walking". Instead, I wish to speak on the pleasure-driven form: "taking a stroll". The difference between the two being what mindset initiates the activity. Walking encompasses such things as: _to the car, _to the pharmacy, _to the office from the car, _to the (pick any consumer retail outlet). During these moments we simply move to a new location using some of our most basic musculoskeletal abilities, with a set destination and purpose in mind.<br />
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What does it mean to take a stroll? To the subject it can mean any number of non-mutually exclusive things: enjoy the pleasant summer evening, explore new streets and neighborhoods, clear the mind or churn mind-stuff around in the mind. There is still a purpose here, but unlike "walking", the activity becomes the destination and not just the means to the destination.<br />
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What is so pleasurable about walking for pleasure? Perhaps, it is that we are taking an action, unceremoniously performed a countless number of times every day for the basic needs of function and survival, and using it to escape, or simply unwind. In this way it becomes a microcosm for stepping out of the routine and freeing ourselves with simple pleasures.<br />
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Let's hit it from a different angle. It feels joyous to simply announce to yourself, or others, that you are about to embark on an activity for the pleasure of that activity. This certainly is not exclusive to taking a stroll. "Let's get coffee.", "Let's pick up a 12-pack and some hot-dogs and hit the park.", "Let's ....", ah well, you get the point.<br />
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I touched on some broad reaching and easy-to-relate-to examples, but here is what I feel has the most relevance and value to taking a stroll: the meditative side of it. One foot shifts past the other and arms swing peacefully at the side. The spine is erect and the body relaxed. We breathe, inhaling fresh air into our lungs. A light breeze brushes the cheek. We glance around at nearby objects or fixate on those in the distance. The horizon becomes a vector that we understand is unreachable, but is always drawing us toward it. We are going somewhere without specific purpose and realize that there can be beauty in this way of approaching the world.<br />
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The current state of existence in which most of us live is inundated with the flash and glimmer of distractions. It is remarkably easy to be pulled around in all directions. The stimuli offered to us by the technological megabeast of digital interconnectivity is always there and calling out to us. Meditative ways of living are becoming scarce. The stroll may be one of the last options we have for entering this more peaceful way of thinking. Just be sure to leave your smartphone at the house. <br />
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Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-69496685929735308592013-01-10T12:49:00.001-08:002013-01-11T06:41:13.176-08:00Choosing your way to work.A little over three years ago my wife and I made the decision to pack the belongings that we valued, sell the ones we didn't and depart halfway across the country to Chicago. This was not an easy decision. We would be leaving behind the comfort of home, the close proximity to our loved ones. Among the deeper desires for change, exploration and reinvention, we had simpler intentions. One of these was the ease and convenience of public transportation.<br />
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I'm not about to tout the virtues of public transportation. Anyone who has lived in or visited a large city probably knows that taking trains and buses to get around has its disadvantages. Standing in a train car, packed shoulder to shoulder with people you have never met or have any intention of knowing, even some with sub-par hygiene, isn't exactly a joyride. This post isn't about that. It is about the ways we choose to arrive at a destination.<br />
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For this example I will use work. Simple enough, right? Something most of us can, or at some point relate to. Regardless of what work represents to us, it is something we feel compelled to arrive at. We may feel reluctant, but regardless we wake up, shave or put on makeup and march out the door. Once outside we are presented with a time-space barrier to conquer- the best way to get there and to do it in a desired amount of time. For most of us, at this point, there may not be much of a choice. Every day you may take the same route in the same car, deviating only during traffic backups or errands. For those with more options you can walk, bike, take a train/bus, or cross the time-space divide virtually by working remotely via technology (not leaving physically at all).<br />
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I am choosing four examples here: taking a train, driving, biking and working virtually. You will soon see this is not a post about how we physically transport ourselves. Turned on its side and thought about more deeply, this is about how we choose to arrive places existentially.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Train</b></span></div>
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The Train: This mode of transportation is the most passive. Once aboard, you no longer have to think much about your physical transportation. You can sleep, zone out, become lost in your thoughts, read a paper or scroll through your smart phone. An array of distractions are at your disposal. The only external signal you need to heed is the operators voice telling you your stop is coming up. The doors open and you move yourself off the train to your final destination.<br />
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The Existential Train: This is often the most common way we move through life. It is easy to coast or drift, letting external forces push or pull us along. We have destinations in mind, but we rely heavily on circumstance or fate to get us there, often it does not. In this state it is too easy to get distracted. You are scrolling through your phone, listening to music when the conductor calls out your stop. You do not hear this. You keep traveling and before you realize it you are way off course in a place you don't recognize.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Car</b></span></div>
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The Car: Most are familiar with this means of transportation. It can be empowering to jump in behind the steering wheel, turn the key and punch the gas. In this mode we are deciding where we are going- which route to take. This complex machine pulls us along and we rarely think of all the mechanisms at play. We trust in the box of metal, plastic and fluids surrounding us, knowing it will get us there. Backups, accidents and mechanical failures happen and we know this, no matter how frustrated it makes us.<br />
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The Existential Car: This mode of diving into the world is slightly more focused than the train. We feel that we control the means pushing ourselves to new places. We can steer within the limits of the road, speed up or slow down. However, some of these feelings of control are illusions. The car can be a good upbringing, a financially sound family or the network of friends in the right places. Even though we feel we are doing it on our own, there is a box around us, protecting and propelling us forward. Something happens. Traffic stops and we are suddenly at a stand-still. An engine rod is thrown and our box falls apart. Some vehicle blindsides us at an intersection and the unthinkable happens.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Bike</b></span></div>
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The Bike: What a splendid idea! We used to ride these simple pieces of machinery for recreation as children. As adults, if it is reasonable, we can choose to gear up and hop on, pedaling our way to work. Like the car we can choose the route. Unlike the car we are the engines of our locomotion. We pedal, breathe, brake and pedal some more, passing the cars stuck at stop lights. In a congested city, this can cut our commute time in half. The cost/time savings and health benefits make this mode seem ideal, but there is a greater level of harshness to biking. Rain, ice and wind can hinder and make things downright nasty. And the part we don't like to consider: Get hit by a car in a car- you are bruised. Get hit by a car on a bike- you are mangled or dead.<br />
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The Existential Bike: We pedal ourselves forward in life. Muscles aching and sweat on our brow, we become the engines of our progression. Obstructions are averted, hills are climbed and destinations reached while others are stuck in traffic or lost on a train. This mode of living takes boldness. You understand the discomfort and dangers. You know some days rain will soak you to the core. You push on, propelling yourself to better places. You arrive with heart beating, lungs cleared and muscles awake.<br />
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<span style="text-align: start;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">The Virtual Commute</span></b></span></div>
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The Virtual Commute: In the age of technology in which we live, some have the option to stay home and connect remotely. Hair disheveled, pajamas donned and body unwashed, you nestle yourself into your favorite chair or couch and log in. The virtues of this being the saving of time and energy- no two hour commute, no carbon based fuels burnt today. The downside being that you are physically disconnected from others, only experiencing things through a technological filter.<br />
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The Existential Virtual Commute: How abstract is this? Damn, I love this thought! My mind is bending, turning, trying to wrap itself around what this can mean. The first three examples were relatively simple to translate to existential means of living. This one is significantly more tricky. I suppose the best way to lay it out is in terms of Thinking. Sometimes there are destinations that can only be reached in our minds. Let's face it- a short, scrawny suburban boy has little hope of becoming the next NBA star. With a vivid imagination, he can see himself soaring above a hoop with the flicker and flash of cameras abounding from the sidelines. Our minds can become that virtual means of commuting to other realms. This might explain the appeal of science-fiction, all forms of media and even philosophy.<br />
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Each of these modes of approaching the world have their respective benefits and traps. However tricky, the final point I'd like to make is this- Knowing when to jump from one mode to the next and having the ability to do so is never easy, but it should be considered when we are drifting aimlessly along in uncomfortable states.<br />
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When the train is delayed, hop in the car. When the car dies, brush the dust off your bike and go for spin. To get from one means to the other, travel to those realms in your mind which help you crystallize new realities Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-66729596966330318432013-01-07T16:57:00.000-08:002013-01-07T17:02:14.480-08:00The Cardinal. The Fixed. The Mutable.Sagittarius: This week you will meet a new person who ignites a part of you which has been neglected for some time. Cancer: You feel bogged down by the energies of others. Best to stay inside this week and rebuild your energy. Leo: Be careful of who you outshine. Tensions may arise and uncomfortable moments may present themselves.<br />
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Now, I should admit that when I was younger I fell on the study of astrology with downright commitment and dedication. It made the world and the universe glimmer with the thought of cosmic order. I loved the thought of metaphysical energy vibrations coming around in circles and cycles with influence over our natures. More importantly, it presented an answer that helped make sense of the seeming randomness that existed around me. This helped greatly when religion was loosing it's grip on my spiritual center.<br />
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Of course, with age I understood that the complexity of human beings cannot be bucketed into such tight, specific, preordained spheres. I certainly felt that these vague forecasts could not possibly apply accurately to the broad group of people born in the same span of thirty some odd days. The simplicity of it seemed silly, however the more complex notions carried forward with me. Allow me to explain.<br />
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The notions of the modes of being began to crystallize as I studied astrology in deeper detail. I'm not speaking of more obvious examples of being more or less passionate, practical, logical or emotional. I'm also not talking about the general way we interface with the world, as in extroverted versus introverted. I think we are all these things at varying degrees during our lives. I'm speaking of the modes each sign can belong to within a given season- cardinal, fixed and mutable.<br />
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For those unfamiliar with this these modes, allow me to elaborate.<br />
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The first sign of each season is designated as Cardinal. This means that enthusiasm is key. Enthusiasm that makes one spring onto new hobbies, passions, thoughts and emotions just as the beginning of a season displays a drastic turning point in the natural world. This is said to make people of these signs initiators and leaders. The downside is that one may not follow through with these new consuming passions, quickly jumping to another one when it is embraced.<br />
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The second signs represent a quality of Fixed, meaning to endure. This trait shows itself in behaviors that are loyal, steadfast and determined. The middle of a season carries the attributes of the weather forward, mostly unchanging. For instance, the dead of winter is can be brutally cold, especially if you live where I do. The negative association is attributed to an inflexible nature, stubborn to change.<br />
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The final signs represent a quality which is Mutable. In a drastic shift from the mode mentioned above, a flexible, adaptable nature is highlighted. I guess the thought is that the end of each season loosens up and gives way to the next. A positive attribute being that people can yield to others, which opens new doors and makes one positioned for new experiences. The annoying part being that too much of this can make one seem flaky or uncommitted.<br />
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Allow me to arrive at my point. This isn't a post reaffirming the concept that we are defaulted into some defining characteristic based on our birth. You can believe in astrology to whatever degree you choose, from utter bullshit to ultimate truth. What I'd like to highlight is this- these modes represent ebbs and flows to our changing natures. We are of this world and is feels holistic to say we should be like the seasons. Perhaps being a better person is simply a proper synthesis of these modes during various moments.<br />
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Shift, change, embrace, hold tight, let go, change, start new. The quicker we can do this, the richer our lives can be. <br />
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Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7247702256102080703.post-6489537019665301492013-01-04T15:45:00.000-08:002013-01-04T22:06:32.999-08:00ViciousnessAs children we generally see the world with trusting and innocent eyes. Our parents represent love and protection. Others are viewed as good for the most part and those harmful or evil characters become abstracted in our minds as monsters, boogie men or villains. When told not to talk to strangers or enter unknown vehicles, we question it and do not grasp the true horrors that can occur because we are still innocent. Ultimately, we listen to our guardians and grow cautious of the world around us, understanding the dangers on deeper levels as we age when we learn of actual tragedies. Innocence fades and stark realities face us as young adults. The world begins to exist less as a fairy tale and more as a harsh, senseless place.<br />
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The progression I just described holds true for most of us who grew up in the safe parts of well-developed countries inside the comfort of relatively loving homes. I will not deny that this process is sped up for children who live through war torn villages, crime ridden streets and oppressive societies. The point is that the world is a vicious place and it is only a matter of time before we see it as such.<br />
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I'm choosing this weighty, somber topic for fairly obvious reasons. It seems this past year has been riddled with stories of atrocious and vile acts- the chewing of a homeless man's face in Miami, the mass shootings of innocent victims in malls, theaters and schools or the violently brutal gang rape of a young woman in India. Each time one of these stories hit my news feed I would be initially stunned. The subsequent day or days would find me slightly more depressed and my heart would feel weightier in my chest, that innocent part of me thinning out ever so slightly.<br />
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I am not writing on this topic to be overly morbid or to invoke melancholy. Instead, I'd like to turn this thinking in a different direction, hopefully with a positive note underpinning it.<br />
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Understanding. I honestly believe this to be the opposing force to human viciousness. Kindness might seem the correct assumption, but before you can be kind you must understand. You must understand something in yourself, your world, your fellow human. Our cultures, societies and technology afford us this privilege and the optimist in me feels the world is nudging in this direction.<br />
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First, let us understand viciousness as best we can. The examples from this past year do not highlight a previously unknown change in human beings. Part of us has always been vicious. It is built into out natures and the world and even the universe around us. Survival has an unfortunately nasty side that requires some violence and even dominance. Survival aside, evil actions are afforded by the ability see another human being as an object or non-person which gives us the capacity to mistreat, torture or kill.<br />
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The characters in Cormac McCarthy's novels tend to be operating outside of societal structures and as such, are capable of depraved and selfish acts. The level to which we have to be violent or vicious is rapidly decreased by the strength of the structures around us. By this I mean to imply the cultures, technologies and infrastructures we live through. I'm not implying an eventual Utopian society or world. Inequities will always exist and fringe people capable of unthinkably evil acts will continue to operate.<br />
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The point I'm driving at is that we should take each one of these vicious acts and see them as what they are, a reflection of the us and the world we live in. In a lot of ways there is no avoiding this process. Even the basest and most evil events can make us understand things better. This understanding can lead to new expressions through thought, dialogue, policy, education and art which pushes the viciousness farther down in our cores. I believe our higher natures can prevail. <br />
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Benanderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526309245182907708noreply@blogger.com0