In Restless Dreams I Walked Alone

It's going to be quiet around here.

That's what I'm realizing - the shift from Cornerstone, a million people crammed together striving for each other, to a single apartment on the East side of Capitol Hill has been a jarring one. Brett and I are domesticating. Getting a lot of good conversations and our fair share of silence in.

Now more than ever I realize why Marty and the gang would choose the lifestyle that they do. Living with my girlfriend in Los Angeles was remarkable for how lonely living with someone can be. Even now with Brett, the clamor of twenty people at dinner seems to be a welcomed change from cooking dinner for two. Maybe it has something to do with Kristen and Kimsey's cooking, though...coming home from a hard day's work to a home-cooked meal is never a bad thing.

Why is silence so awkward? I've gotten to a point with Brett where we can sit and be comfortable not talking. It seems though that you have to work hard to get to that point with a person. As if every moment spent in silence is a chance missed to connect or impress with words.

I want to surround myself with friends. Good ones. Finding them is much harder than I would have thought. Perhaps I'm just picky or perhaps the ones I love seem to fly off to other destinations, but it's hard to find people that I like spending time with. It's also hard being alone. Harder for me than I'd like to admit, especially with the air of mystery my love of privacy and independence brings with it.

If we were together in the same room, could we sit in silence and be comfortable? Can you do that with anyone?

Sort of more autobiographical and rhetorical today. Thoughts are turning inward. But I would love to know where your thoughts are turning. Especially since you've got transitions of your own to deal with.

Wearing Kid Gloves

There's an old adage about screenwriting that goes along the lines of, "Whenever a man and woman are talking in a script, no matter what they are talking about, they are always talking about sex." It's an underlying premise of the conversation. The subject could be getting her out of Russia, the weather in June, auto-repair - but the characters are still entwined in a sublimely subtle dance of sexual negotiation. And at some point in the movie, they will end up together. It might be as simple and innocent as the kiss in Princess Bride or as steamy as the sex scenes in 9 and 1/2 Weeks, but you know that the two are working their way toward physically (and emotionally - can't forget that even in movies, sex is an emotional thing) being together.

The same could be said, I think, of love. I think that in some ways, all conversations that we have are conversations about love - or if you can't stretch that far, they are about human connection. We're always feeling each other out.

The debate continues as to whether a guy and girl can be friends - something that When Harry Met Sally thrust upon the world. Still, there's no definitive answer. I tend to sway back and forth. I think more interesting than that is the question of why we should be debating it. Why are we so drawn to the topic? Why are men so incredibly taken by women? Why are women so longing for men?

The simple answer is the animalistic one. We need water, food, shelter and mating. In that order. With water and food basically taken out of the equation by modern society, and shelter pretty much dealt with (if you're not looking for a place in DC that is) mating/partnering is our only great struggle left as animals. The only one.

In the Symposium, Plato, recounting the voices of many philosophers at a party, describes love in the most vivid of ways. Socrates' answer of course is the shining, perfect example, bringing forth the idea that love is an incurable connection to the God-force, true love is Godly love. For the most part I can agree with love being a great connective force toward ultimate reality.

But I was always more in favor of Aristophanes' story. It's funnier anyway. The short version is this:

Before man took the form he and she are in today, there existed beings made up of two of everything. Two heads, two torsos, two sets of arms, two sets of legs. The moved around by cartwheeling and lived in utter bliss. But they made the Gods mad with how happy they were - how perfect - (noting any similarities to other stories?) - so the Gods split them in two and cast them apart. From that day on, then, the creatures spent most of their time looking for their other half, the person that completed them. And when they found one another, they wanted to press up close against each other, trying once again to become truly connected.

Socrates passes this story off as base, foolish, a trifle definition of love and longing.

I've always really liked it though. It's romantic and it makes incredible sense. Perhaps we were together at one point and ripped apart. It's all we can do as humans to get that feeling back. Have you ever noticed that you don't have to have experienced love in order to want it? Are there any other things in life like that?

Saying, "you don't know what you're missing," just doesn't apply. We do know what we're missing without even knowing what it's like.

Best of luck with your last great struggle. And remember, men and women are only always talking about sex in the movies.

The Mote

I've been trying to cry for an hour, and I can't. I have the tiniest piece of dust or something in my eye, and it's causing me a lot of pain. If I could cry, I know I could get it out.

Why do the smallest things cause that much pain? It's the Paper Cut Syndrome. It's small, but quick and exact so it stings - like the words of a friend abandoning you or of your parents' disappointment. Those situations can be only a few words long, and hurt much more than hours-long conversations. Have you ever done something wrong and expected a huge tongue-lashing from your parents only to get the quiet head shake and, "We're just disappointed." ? It hurts even worse I think.

On the other end of the spectrum, we allow the little things to make a big impact - money, outward appearance, a misunderstood statement, a miscommunication. We tend to take things that should matter least and make them matter most. Think back to the fights in your life. What have they been about? The yelling matches, the hard conversations, what was at the core of them? Id' venture to guess that some - most - of them can be looked back on in laughter, noting how foolish it was even to worry about something so small. Other fights aren't as easy to break down. But why do we get in fights in the first place that we can later laugh at? Shouldn't we be able to see how silly they are from the onset?

We are the ones who give power to the small things. Humans place such great importance on the smallest of things that they become big. But all human constructs are arbitrary. Like fads in fashion, the things that matter or the things that we focus on can change with the tide, with the decade. They are dust in the wind. That's why we must look outside ourselves for any true morality. And then, we have to try our best not to muck it all by getting involved in it, by practicing it.

I was thinking about ending this thought in a nice little package by saying that sometimes the best solution to a problem, just like the problem with my eye, is to have a good cry, but that seems incredibly wuss-like. Instead, I'll point out that if I can't cry, if I can't get this thing mote out of my eye and it gets worse, I'll have to start sporting an eye patch.

Which I think I'm okay with.

Quantum Leap

Teleportation.

I'm sorry if my thoughts have been on a sci-fi tip lately, but with my focus on Metaphysics, they often veer in that direction. Plus, the fundamental roots of sci-fi are in the human spirit. Things that resonate.

I'm thinking about teleportation (and interesting way to phrase that, and you'll see why in a minute). The concept that a human or anything really could travel through space not in the "shortest distance" between points - a line - but in a dot. A single point that would exist as two places that something could slide between.

We do it every day, actually. Our brain does all the work. I want you to think of a place you haven't been in a while - picture it in your mind, transport yourself there. What is that incarnation of the place in your mind? If you can see it, note its characteristics, is it the place itself? Or some faux-version of it? What does it mean to think of something? How can something be far away from us and in our mind?

These aren't really answerable questions. Like most of life.

It's essentially teleportation though. If we close our eyes and think, we can transport. It may not seem real, but how real is what we're experiencing right now? We are getting the ghost of the place - a faint sense of what it looks like, smells like, feels like. It's just a milder version of the location we're actually in. Is that 100% fake?

The ending of things is taking my mind in all sorts of directions - Florida, Texas - soon I'll be traveling to other places. I think our minds wander a bit when our friends leave, move away, head out for adventure. I guess the thing that brings a smile to my face is that I can be there with them. In a milder way. But still, I'm in Texas. I'm in Florida. North Carolina. Kansas. Oklahoma.

I'm wondering. If I think of a place, will you be able to see me there? What if both imagined it at the same time?

How real could it be? How close could our friends be to us at all times? I think keeping them in our minds is the first big step when they are far, physically far away. Minds, hearts, either place.

Just wanted to let you know where mine is.

Where Are We Going?

It is the drive to own that motivates us.

We are basically still animals - albeit with the special ability to be self-aware and rationally solve problems. The animal needs, as we all know, are food, water and shelter. But beyond that, animals have incredibly distinctive personality types that play off of those needs and whether or not they can be satisfied efficiently or effectively.

There are cases of chimpanzees in Africa that have begun using tools to hunt. This is not a joke. Documenting evidence has surfaced of these animals sharpening sticks into spears and hunting small mammals. Some of also begun taking shelter in caves. And what happens when one animal infringes on another's territory? Fights.

We fight because we hate the idea of someone else owning what we own. I believe this is our primary drive - to have things. They don't have to be nice, expensive, interesting or safe. They just need to be ours. And in some cases, ownership can be a beautiful thing. (I'm using the term ownership loosely - more so, I mean "having things" more than pure ownership). Feeling a sense of ownership makes you treat things well. Experts cite that a main reason for people littering is that they don't have a sense of ownership, of protectiveness, over their land or city. When we have something, we want it safe.

We treat our friends the same way. Protecting them from outside harm.

Of course there's a negative side (isn't there always?) as the need for ownership can get out of hand, can make one loose focus about what type of things to own. Friends, family, the basics in whichever form you can afford sometimes take a back seat to shinier, prettier, more impermanent things. So we have to keep vigilant of our own desires. I'm a big fan of not denying desire. But I do recognize that it can be fulfilled in healthier ways than most people tend toward.

There's a book entitled "This Book Will Change Your Life" that gives a 365 day, daily schedule of something unique to do. Each day gives something incredibly interesting to achieve. And they aren't always pretty. Day Two instructs the person - if they are so inclined to actually follow the program which is mostly meant as a joke - to "destroy something they love".

I was going to do it, but after thinking about it, decided it was just too hard. It goes against our basic nature to protect and own.

What would you destroy? Could you go through with it? Can we shift our focus toward wanting the immaterial-permanent instead of the material world that fades away? Are we doomed to be owned by our ownership?

I'm never sure where I'm going with this stuff.

That's Thinking Positive

I am fascinated by numbers.

They are one of the very few things completely out of the hands of humans. We have zero impact on them. They exist beyond human interaction such that we can utilize them without making the smallest iota of change in them.

In grade school, teachers will sometimes try to get children to grasp the concept of infinity. Of course, no human mind can actually grasp infinity, but she wants to give the children the concept to play around with at an early age. It's usually in asking what the biggest number is and watching as the children spout off the highest number they can think of only to find that adding one to it outshines their response.

A bit later, probably in middle school, students realize that infinity is not a situation of counting up from zero - but that infinity has no beginning or end. The spectrum stretches below the zero line on down to the infinitum. In fact, zero is an arbitrary starting point, as infinity has no beginning, end, or middle.

That is about all that most people can handle about infinity. It is an impossible thing to get beyond, and I could spend 30 pages of email going over all the fun trivia about infinity, but I wont.

I'll only use this one example that almost no one thinks about. We're trained to think of infinity as "starting" at zero and going upwards....1,100,1000,10000

,etc....forever. Or downward in the opposite direction....forever. It's like a train, going from station to station...1 to 2 to 3 to 4.

However, in addition to the infinity that exists through the numbers, there is also an infinite amount of number between 1 and 2. We just tend not to think of numbers that way.

Not only do numbers raise into the gazllions and googleplexes, they also hide between the smallest of number found on the telephone dial, creating infinity space between 1 and 2.

All this to say, isn't that sometimes how relationships work? How are we, as simple beings incapable of grasping this concept, supposed to connect with each other when there is an infinite space between 1 and 2? Between one person and another. Sometimes it seems that we mimic numbers, that we are in capable of reaching each other because no matter how close we get, there is something else standing in the way. The higher we count, we get outshined by adding just one more number as far away from the decimal as it can go - and then it can go further.

How do we let our relationships get like that? I think we've all had one or many where things just seemed distant beyond hope. Maybe it didn't matter and maybe it meant the world. How are we supposed to fix something like that?

Numbers. It's nice to have something completely beyond our control.

The Sure Thing

Greetings.

Looking for an apartment has definitely been the focus in my life - the source of my largest grief. It's also opened my eyes to two important things about human nature.

The other night I went to a particularly nice place, right off Lincoln Park, with a decent layout and price range. I told the owner I'd take it. We seemed to get along just fine, and barring my credit check, I should have been fine. But he said he wanted to think it over. He had several interested people. But what's to think about? Ultimately, there's a decent person willing to hand over money to you that night. The main factors in dealing with a tenant are taken care of, but it's human nature to stall.

We are afraid to make rash decision even when we end up making them further down the line, with zero added information.

We feel like time gives us a buffer of wisdom when in fact, it does nothing. Choosing to eat an apple for lunch as soon as you want it v. ten minutes later is still the same decision, but we want to feel like we've labored over something, worked for the answer, even when the answer is right in front of us.

There was a fairly interesting psychology study done at Baylor that showed categorically that members of the opposite sex are more likely to find someone else attractive if they know its a sure thing.

Basically, the experiment was set up as such:

Thousands of surveys were taken over a several-year span by a cross section of students (age was static, obviously). Two weeks later, the control group of students was given the profiles of five members of the opposite sex that seemed to "match" and were told to rank them based on their surveys and which you'd prefer more to meet. They were told that if there was a match, phone numbers would be exchanged.

The experimental group was told the same thing. Except...they were notified of which profiles had chosen them as their top person. All they had to do was pick that individual and getting a phone number was assured. Plus, they were armed with the knowledge that the person was already interested in them.

Despite lower ratings on physical attractiveness and personality attractiveness, an overwhelming amount of people chose people who were a "sure thing".

It spreads to more than just finding a mate. There's an apartment that I'm not super-thrilled about...a little out of my price range, but at the end of the day, I'm still attracted to it because I know the landlord will rent it to me and I still don't have a place right now.

It's a sure thing. Not nearly as attractive as other places, but I know that I CAN get it.

I think it says something about our nature of being alone as well. We would rather have someone that's not as attractive as we'd like, just in order to have someone.

How many times in your life have you been attracted to something or someone and questioned why? Maybe it was because you knew they or it was in range. In "your league" or below, as it were. I know I've thought that about girls before...seeing a girl that was fair, but not the classic definition of beauty, and I thought, "I could definitely date this girl or at least get her number. She'll probably be flattered. She doesn't seem like the type that would have her number asked for that often."

It's a terrible thought. It's the same thought a cheetah has when attacking the older or weaker gazelle. Have you ever been a cheetah? Have you striven to get something just because you knew it would be easy to get? A job? An apartment? A date?

Open Opinion

Have you ever noticed that when people say they don't care about what other people think about them, it is usually in response to something negative?

This scenario never happens:

Scott: Hey, John. Hunter was telling me yesterday that he thought you were a really great guy.
John: Oh, I don't really care what other people think of me, Scott.

The point is a fairly obvious one that we overlook (I don't think I've ever thought of it until this morning), but in order to truly not care what people think of you, you have to forsake the good as well as the bad. For the most part, I think most people don't care what negative things people think about them. Or say the do in order to mask the fact that their hurt.

Not a revolutionary idea, but I was excited because I hadn't thought of it until now.

Plus, I wanted to keep it short for a change.

And since when did caring about what other people thought become such a bad thing?

All I Ever Wanted

This Summer was not a vacation.

This is probably the first time I've directly engaged the Fellowship in one of my thoughts, but I couldn't stop thinking about the opportunities that were missed this summer. It's unreasonable to imagine the program would work perfectly - there's a human element flowing throughout - but a tragedy bigger than the hours of long conversations missed out on, problems going unreconciled and the gradual pulling away from the group that some do is that some of the people involved will have seen this Summer as a break. A vacation. A chance to get away.

But this summer isn't a break from normal life, it's a starting point toward looking at life differently. If the program was merely a break, it would be ultimately pointless - in the same way that some diets are; instead of changing a person's lifestyle and eating habits, diets give a person a momentary break from his or her routine that is wasted once the person reverts back to older, bad habits. This program can not just be a fad diet.

It can't because the principles involved are non-negotiable. Loving yourself. Loving all human beings. Asking hard questions and giving honest answers. These things don't belong on a snappy brochure tauting the wonders of a two month retreat; the belong in the hearts of each individual.

I feel like a decent number of people that spent the summer in our wonderful house will go back to their "real lives" unchanged. It's the easiest way after all, just as living for the program was the easiest way while living in the house. Everyone else was doing it. It's harder work to carry the thoughts and ideals of the program back home to Kansas, Texas, Oregon, Indiana, Florida, North Carolina, Oklahoma and parts unknown.

Yet that's what must happen. And it will happen for some. I hope it happens for more than less.

But it won't come that naturally. And the question I never heard anyone ask during the summer was, "How is anyone supposed to live life this way?" In the context of a Summer getaway, its simple. But how does someone live like that year-round? How do you keep vigilant in applying the ideas of the Fellowship everyday for the rest of your life? How can we constantly be loving?

Is it really all that difficult to do?

I'm not so sure it is.

Wearing the Black Hat

I wonder if bad guys in stories know that they're the bad guys.

There are several figures in stories that are so outrightly evil that there can be no question. Even attempting to rationalize their behavior - usually through a look at a battered childhood - only serves to show that they were fated to be evil, which makes them all the more so.

Most bad guys though are simply greedy or self-interested - fairly common human characteristics. They display one or several traits that main stream society would deem immoral - most stemming directly from selfishness or a lack of compassion for the common man. Bank robbers, mean uncles, insensitive boyfriends, cruel mistresses - they are all just being themselves. Not inherently evil, just mean or hurtful.

And I wonder if they realize that they are bad.

Take for example, the insensitive boyfriend. He's easy to spot in romantic comedies or comedies about "getting the girl". The main character is charismatic, sweet and flawed in some way as he tries to court the sexiest, most dynamic girl who already has a boyfriend that treats her like dirt or just generally neglects her needs. He's usually an alpha-male, overly prideful, cares more about himself than he does the relationship and is obsessed with gaining power or prestige. But how many of these guys do you know in real life? I would guess it's a healthy number.

And yet they live life stuck in that personality type. This makes me question how self-aware they are. Even more interesting, I think, is the question of how someone like this responds to a similar character in a story or a movie. What happens when a popped-collar, self-absorbed, spoiled brat of a jock watches Wedding Crashers to see a popped-collar, self-absorbed, spoiled brat of a jock who is obviously in the "bad guy" role and gets his comeuppance? Does he make the connection that he's the real life version of the on-screen jerk?

(There's nothing inherently wrong with a popped collar, but it was necessary for that very specific example.)

To take the concept in another direction, with the exception of truly evil characters, most bad guys have their own unique story which could explain their behavior. The book Grendel was written from the point of view of the famous monster from Beowulf. In Beowulf, Grendel is a blood-thirsty beast wreaking havoc on the town and its innocent citizens. In Grendel, the beast is portrayed as an animal constantly near the edge of starvation whose mother is slaughtered in cold blood by Beowulf. It sort of blurs the line of what's bad and what's good. Depending on the point of view, a bad character's actions might be justifiable.

Which leads me, on the long road, toward my thought. It seems it could be true that bad guys in stories don't realize they are the bad guy, that they see nothing wrong with their behavior, are not even aware sometimes of the negative effects of their actions, and points of view can shift from story to story.

So whose story have you been the bad guy in lately?

We like to cheer for the good guys, the ones in the white cowboy hats wiping sweat from their brow and drawing a speedier pistol when the sun climbs to high noon. We love identifying with these characters because it somehow reflects our own inner goodness. Is it possible that we are the bad guy in the story? Have we been acting as ourselves only to find out that we're the one who deserves a comeuppance? Who's been selfish? Uncaring? Not thoughtful enough? If we take a moment, will we find that we're not always the hero?

I'd like to think we've all played the bad guy.

The real question is, what do we do about it?

Starting the War

The history books are all written from war to war. Each section of peace is written only as a necessary break between what we consider truly important. While it might be a stretch to say we define ourselves by suffering, it is not so far to say that we define our lives by conflict.

Conflict, after all, precedes growth. One of the summer's themes was stepping out of one's comfort zone in order to grow. This is our way of maturing. We float along until we reach the rapids, and after we've gone through them, we believe we are stronger/wiser/better in some way. It is the most natural way of thinking about growth.

Should it be?

It seems as though we give an unfair advantage toward suffering as the primary life changer. As if happiness, boredom, comfort, friendship or love couldn't make us grow quite as much pain. The reason is probably disillusionment. Coming into the world, we're young and full of hope, but the more pain we experience, the more adulterated we become - disillusioned from the fantasy of a wonderful world rising up to meet us in the morning with a smile. The world is more painful the older we get. There are wars, deaths, torturous ironies and innocent victims. But for every one of these trifles, there are weddings, sunsets, a charitable donation or a smile from a stranger.

Why is pain given such a monopoly on growth?

Maturity in itself is judged by suffering - we continually try to prove to others that we are experiencing more suffering than they could. At the same time, we won't allow ourselves to claim that anyone suffers more than anyone else. It's a strange dichotomy between wanting to one- up and be even.

When thinking about some of the older leaders in the program - their large houses, beautiful families and strong convictions about Christ - it's such a gut reaction for me to think, "What do you know about pain? What do you know about suffering?" And I judge them by it. It's incredibly unfair - I don't know anything about these people, their histories, their tribulations, but judging them by their apparent lifestyle is an easy way to discredit. It's false, but easy (like most false things).

But on the other hand, isn't it hard to listen to someone speak about the difficulties and sacrifices of being a Christian while they sip a gourmet cup of coffee by the roaring fireplace in their six-bedroom house? This brings up a question of blessings - and it's a hard one I think. Perhaps these gifts they've received are from God - their nice homes and nice cars - but for what? If God loves us equally, why would he choose to give so much to some and so little to others? Isn't the man barely scraping by, tithing what little he has to his church and laying his life down for Christ entitled to the same gifts as the guy whose shoes he's shining?

Plus, why would God bestow worldly gifts as blessings for true believers? Aren't we to turn away from worldly things? Isn't there a huge disconnect between Christ, roaming the hot desert with nothing and the upper middle class Christian who gets upset when his Lexus gets dented? Isn't rejecting material possessions (or less-severely, wealth) part of the ultimate trust-fall with God? And if we can't leave our money behind, do we actually believe in God? Aren't we sort of hedging our bets?

Although questionable, this disconnect haunts me.

It would be foolish to leave our money behind. (But isn't Christianity sort of foolish?) But what I see more and more are blessings that are horded. If these gifts really are from God for (I don't know...being a "good" Christian) whatever reason, shouldn't they be shared with others? Shouldn't we be living as poorly as we can while using that money to help others?

Pain is tough to get away from. Christianity is defined by it. The Passion is the most crucial action of Jesus' life. His agony on the cross defines him. Pain, suffering, sacrifice proves his maturity and his love for all of humanity. If we are seeking to be Christlike, why do we always leave this one out? No one realizes the pain that Christ lived with constantly or the pain he endured to die. I am not sure what it means to be Christlike outside of this context. And yet, why is it that pain should be the thing to define us all?

I'm not so sure it should.

Why I Can't do This

Daily routines are impossible to keep up.

Take, for example, the ambitious undertaking that was to be these thoughts - a daily pining away at intelligence meant for your amusement. I'm hoping I'll be able to do a better job of it, despite human nature. The problem, as I see it, is that things outside of securing shelter, finding food and finding a social web are not high on the priority list for humans. Our brains do not function on a daily level toward tasks that might seem trivial in the evolutionary sense. Sending a daily email of musings takes a bit more effort than it seems.

In the same vein, I was thinking yesterday about communication. First, some things about me that you may already know:

1) I have a complex that doesn't allow to believe that my friends are actually my friends.

This was jarred into existence early on in my life when friends turned their backs on me. Middle school was the roughest period of time, having no friends and realizing that the ones I did have openly made fun of me. It's also tough considering that know one puts out a manual on how to be friends with people. We all sort of suck at it. I had a similar situation happen in high school - the summer after graduation actually - where a group of friends I had spent most of my senior year with, decided that I just didn't fit in with them. It was upsetting, but my analytical mind passed over the situation without any drama because I was heading to college in a month and would soon cut ties with them anyway.

2) This situation is coupled with the fact that I'm an initiator. I call people to hang out. I send the initial emails of conversation. I move relationships along. This is a hard spot to be in because there is rarely any sign from friends that you're advances are actually welcome. You begin to feel as if you're a pest. You think, "If they really wanted to hang out with me, wouldn't they call me up instead of always the other way around?"

Also, I tend to read deeply into the smallest of actions. I think that reading deeply is better than not, but the deeper you go, the more room for error there is. People have deep-seeded reasons for what they do, but guessing those motivations is sometimes difficult.

So my thought, even though this seems like rambling, is that technology has made us bad friends. People send a quick text or facebook message every so often and feel that's the basis for a solid friendship. One of my biggest pet peeves is when people don't return my calls or texts. There's pretty much no reason for it in this day and age to get back to someone within 24 hours of the initial contact. But we just don't. And I read a lot into that inaction.

There was a situation with my predecessor here where the phones got turned off because of delinquent payments. I couldn't understand how someone could let that happen. One of my coworkers told me, "It's just a situation where the bills came, she thought she'd get to them later, and she just never got around to it."

Daily routines are impossible to keep up.

Even the severity of her paycheck and job weren't enough to point out the need to compartmentalize life and complete daily tasks as they come up. Much in the same way, it was easy for me to not send you an email for several days last week. I just didn't do them. And it makes me wonder, how many other things in life should we be doing daily that we aren't?

It takes discipline, but we have it in us.

Shades of Black and White

The biggest mistake in thinking today is that anything is black and white. This is the same thinking that has gotten us to where we are in the world - at least the negative places.

But life is painted more in shades of gray. Our simple minds are always inclined to look at a situation at its most basic, never taken into consideration that there might be information we don't have, can't acquire or that factors in beyond our scope. Take, for example, the recent issue brought up by some of the guys about some of the girls in the house. They thought in black and white.

"The girls don't want to get to know me so there must be something wrong with them or me."

Arriving at this conclusion is as simple as assuming the base of the situation as being negative. Not once did these boys ever imagine that the girls not opening up could be a good thing. Now, hopefully they are starting to see that it can be (and is) a good thing for the girls. Maybe this thought will lead them to question whether it is truly negative for them as well.

But we do it with most everything. Things seamlessly, automatically fall into our thinking as either good or bad before we get a chance to think about them. Unfortunately, nothing is all good or all bad - especially when considering human definitions (more on that later).

Virtually every situation has at least the smallest bad or good aspect to it. This is partially because every situation has a winner and a loser - even the most mild situations. It's also because their are manifest results - that is, unseen results - to almost every action.

The benign stranger that lets an old woman take his place on a metro car. It's a good situation. Helpful, makes him feel good. But what if that train derailed, and the woman got hurt? Does that make his action "bad" in anyway? Or is it still a pure action with simply a negative outcome? I suppose the main issue here is whether actions, their intent, and their actual outcomes are that closely tied together.

On the flip-side, and entering into taboo, I will say that the Nazi Holocaust had some positive outcomes. For one, the war itself dragged the US from the depression, saving countless lives. It also gave the world a unified body to voice concern in, and for the most part, was a war to end all wars. We've not had a global war since.

Also, Germany, Italy and Japan became incredibly closely allied with us. The Holocaust itself, while deplorable, also yielded several medical advancements that have continued to save lives.

Is the Holocaust good? Of course not. Categorically not. But that doesn't mean that something considered so heinous cannot also have something good about it.

Which brings us to human definition. What is good and what is bad? Certainly, we haven't even got the slightest concept of them. One of the main problems in theology is the Problem of Evil: If God exists, why do terrible atrocities happen? For the most part, this question has gone unanswered (at least sufficiently). The closest thing to resolve is to claim that we, as feeble-minded humans, just cannot comprehend the nature of God. Thus, we cannot understand what good and bad really are. Thus, who are we to say what bad and good are in the first place?

Perhaps that's a strong answer. What do you think?

The Starting Line

What are we waiting for? The most cliched "deep" question is one of what our lives would look like if the world ended tomorrow. It's supposed to spur us on to live life at its most meaningful - whatever that means. Somehow faced with our own mortality, we are supposed to relish every moment, every sunrise, every tiny breath of air. Our food should taster better simply for having it. Our actions should mirror these outside experiences and become significant on a grander scale.

Basically, if we all knew we were dying together, our actions would fall into two categories: apathy and zealotry.

Or, the simplest of actions would automatically become significant within the context.

The question I ask is almost the same: what are we waiting for? If it did all end tomorrow - most of our lives would have little meaning. We've never earned a million dollars, given it all to charity, flown to every country, painted a self-portrait, built a house, destroyed an evil, protected the innocent, been in love, etc. All of the things that we've been programmed to believe are important deeds are just beyond our grasp.

Thus, two problems. We must shake off the old ideals of what matters and what doesn't. We are inundated with images of celebrities. They're important. Politicians. People of power. Influence. They are all drastic figures, and we are but the lowly ones looking constantly upward toward their light. We have to stop.

The closest thing of importance to us is people. They surround us everyday. We're almost sick of them, there are so many. Nevertheless, if we want to truly influence, to truly make a difference, it can be a simple as giving advice, listening to a story, or sitting in silence with a friend.

But we are almost bothered by others. We don't have time for their needs because we are so focused on our own - our own needs being incredibly insignificant (since we aren't celebrities or politicians...). We should learn to make their needs, our needs.

You don't need money to impact people. Or power. Or fame. We are imbued naturally with the tools to connect.

The second problem: I claim that we are waiting on something. We're waiting for some cosmic starting gun or some invisible hand to give us permission to live our lives. This is the only explanation that makes sense - for, if we weren't waiting on something, why wouldn't we be out impacting the world?

Do you sometimes feel like you're waiting for permission to live?

Whistle Blowing

After playing sports, you probably realize that there are two types of coaches (in broad generalization-mode): the supportive coach or cheerleader-coach who encourages you to progress beyond your limits and notes when you've done so with enthusiasm, and the task-master coach who yells at you even when you succeed.

You may also realize that most humans on the planet fall into the latter category when it comes to their fellow man.

Today on the metro, one of the escalators was out during my transfer from the glorious Green line to the dismal Red, so the throbbing horde was forced to walk up an entire flight of out-of-order escalators (read: stairs - sorry for the convenience) to hustle off to their job that they'd probably be late for anyway.

Progress was slow.

During the crowding effort, I heard someone nearby mutter a choice curse word under his breath. Another crowd member actually spoke up about how slow people were moving. That's when I realized that we're all bad coaches.

As if there was a way to go faster. As if these men would have flown up the stair if they were in front. These men were bad coaches, yelling at a group of strangers for something they had very little control over. Would it be so out of the ordinary to spark a positive comment toward our fellow commuters? After all, it's mostly sheer numbers that slows progress - not any one person's inability to move quickly through the terminals. Could these men have shouted, "You can do it! We're doing great, everyone!" and gotten a better result? Perhaps people would have moved quicker with positive reinforcement.

How many times in your daily life do you get frustrated with other people? How many times do you find yourself playing the bad coach instead of supporting? The answer is fairly high for me. Hopefully, I'll be able to change that.

Left or Right?

The road of life is paved with choices as the road to hell is paved with good intentions. When you really think about it, some of the times that we mess up, we set out to fail, but for the most part, every time we mess up, we meant to do good.

If this is the case, doesn't it mean that the majority of mistakes made in this world are made by good people, trying to do good things?

And if that's the case, shouldn't people stop doing good things? It seems that doing fewer good things would also lessen the amount of mess ups in the world. Good intentions may be one thing, but bad results are another. Let's do our part to cut back on bad results by never setting foot on that path of good intentions.

The ball's in your court.

On First Philosophy

Life is not something to take lightly.