what are you afraid of?

Boredom

Front Page Express

Some were alive when the jet crashed
And a man survived his fourth lightning strike
As the pope reached out to young people
Just before the ‘Frankenfood’ revolution ended
When Time named the year’s most influential Hispanic
Gas prices increased by twenty-two cents
The budget deficit dropped slightly
On word that the red planet might be turning green
Trucks caught fire but not people’s attention
As attacks by militants increased significantly
Following the elimination of blood services restrictions
Indonesia signed a peace pact ending thirty years of violence
The phone message from the doomed jet was exposed as a hoax
Right around the time that Delta sold its feeder carrier to Skywest
Word of a Presidential campaign was retracted
When Japan apologized for its history of imperial ambitions
The airline industry offered brand new seating
To accommodate fat passengers instead of life vests
Thus causing the president to be indicted in Venezuela
So that Wal-Mart could continue with the lowest everyday prices
Yet all of this could have been perfectly avoided
If the side affects of Vioxx had stayed hidden from the public
Which also would have exposed a left-wing Liberal snobbery
To be blamed for everything from drought to flu season

The Deconstruction of a Realist

Here’s a ball made of clay
Untitled and motionless
Sculpted by a man gone mad
While he was undergoing treatment at a facility
For Paranoid Schizophrenia
The critic says wait a minute
I see it now
There must be depth to this work
This ball is not a ball at all
But a sphere of consequential value
There’s a small dent in one side
The sculpture is hinting at imperfection
The sphere is small and expressionless
Signifying our homogenous mediocrity
It’s a spherical work of genius
Says the overly delighted critic
It’s a post-modern realists’ essay on our time
Eerily simplistic
With full cultural relevance
Mocking the human desire
For perfection, beauty and greatness
Within six months of three optimistic full paged articles
The ball is auctioned off
To a collector of obscure European works
At just over thirty-five grand
It is to be followed by an untitled cube
A tiny untitled pyramid
And a giant rectangle titled “rectangle, untitled”
Each piece commanding well over twenty thousand dollars
Three of which now sit in glass cases
At the museum of modern art
In the now-deceased artists’ hometown
Of Stedelijk, Netherlands
The artist, sadly
Having never seen a sculpture sold
Died in his asylum by self-inflicted wounds
After which
His soiled bed sheets were auctioned off
At just under 2 million Euros

Swarming Season

every little worker looks so happy taking orders
it’s incredible
they keep in line
holding up the colony’s
inner column walls
it’s magnificent
a curious design

that I should fly to plant my seed
in the queen of the honeybees
after all
she’ll definitely kill me
go back to here throne
and do it again
to another stingless drone

hurry supersedure
keeper please don’t keep her

every little worker seems so busy making honey
still I am here
in the mating yard
just waiting for my fate to change
though it never will
I still find it strange
a touch bizarre

that I’m to think these thoughts alone
with the queen of the honeybees
barely buying time
she’s too far past her prime now
breeding only drones
by summer's end
she’ll be overthrown

hurry supersedure
workers choose another virgin leader

(description)

to my love

i'm sorry for

... all the times i neglected or ignored you
... giving you the cold shoulder instead of giving you an explanation
... not asking how your day was
... forgetting when you told me something that was important to you
... not leaving enough milk for your morning coffee
... missing an event that you asked me to attend
... saying things i didn't mean when i was angry
... making you angry just so i could be angry too
... not giving you space when you asked, and when you didn't ask
... expecting things that were not in your nature
... demanding things that were not in your nature
... not properly acknowledging when you did things that were not in your nature
... letting you leave without kissing you goodbye
... not telling you exactly how much you changed me for the better

but, thank you for

... putting up with my family
... helping me try new foods
... letting me wear your sweater
... bringing me flowers for no reason
... calling me when you knew i needed it although i wouldn't admit it
... letting me cry, even over silly things
... teaching me about the part of myself i have to be very quiet to hear
... getting me to paint
... pushing me enough to make scary decisions that made me happy
... trusting me with your thoughts
... treating me like an equal
... encouraging me to question authority
... inspiring me to write
... telling me the truth

Post-Industrial Awakenings

1. Snorkeling in a lagoon, on a golf course beside a giant pig barn, searching for lost golf balls, because each ball is worth 75 cents.
It’s a recession you know.
2. Petting a dolphin at a roadside aquarium in Florida during the Gulf War.
The dolphin, being a bit bruised and claustrophobic, acted harshly and somewhat violent with its oppressors.
3. Poolside at the condo, a boy flew his toy airplane off a 4th floor balcony right into my brother’s face. He proceeded to apologize with great intent. Luckily no damage done.
4. In the arcade, underneath the tower, we tried so desperately to grab a stupid toy with a fumbling robotic arm. We must have pumped a hundred quarters into that machine; it was either that or shuffleboard with the old folks.
5. Sitting in a car, in mediocre weather, watching the mammoth highway signs go by, and drawing pictures on the foggy backseat window, it all made sense in my head.
It’s a recession you know.

The straight and winding road to Nirvana

Surfing the yin yang on a board of alcoholic contemplation
To the shores of utter disappointment
Only to be chased further by
Nihilistic visions over two city blocks on a unicycle
Makes one happy to wake up sweaty
Thus realizing that it was all a bittersweet dream
And coffee never tasted so good
After nights spent soaked in
The perspiration of chasing God

i am still

Lately, I have been reflecting on why people so often answer the question, “How are you?” with “I’m busy”. Is busyness really the reality of that many people’s lives? Is it more socially acceptable to say “I’m busy” than to answer “There’s not much going on”? Or, is this common response just a habit? I think all of these reasons apply.

As someone who often feels “busy”, I have come to the realization that it is often the high expectations I put on myself that keep me in a constant state of “busyness”. I often feel busy, but I can also choose to do things differently to reduce the stress in my life.

In some ways, we can all become prisoners of our own mindsets. Is it really necessary to be so busy all the time? Perhaps, if we didn’t want so much we wouldn’t be so busy. Of course, I am aware that everyone has responsibilities and commitments. However, there are always choices about what we do. Do we want too much? Are we trying to do too much? What is all the anxiety about?

Over one million people in Canada suffer from depression and anxiety. One of the factors that exacerbate both psychiatric disorders is the fast pace of today’s lifestyles. This is compounded when we also hold high expectations of ourselves because we tend to overload our schedules with all the things we think we “should” do. And, if we don’t do them, we may end up feeling guilty. What an endless negative cycle to put yourself through!

We may be trying to be the ideal parent, the outstanding employee, the perfect partner, or the inexhaustibly caring friend. Inevitably, we cannot continue to do everything these roles may demand. Overwhelming ourselves with too many activities can actually prevent us from doing anything well.

The quality of what we can give suffers when we demand too much of ourselves. The way in which we give or do something can make all the difference, for both the giver and the receiver. If we can genuinely share a part of ourselves for a few minutes with someone else, both people can feel a deeper sense of satisfaction and understanding in the connection. Simply put, it feels good. The giver can feel good about sharing authentically, and the receiver will pick up the fact that the other person is present and feel valued.

We can help ourselves develop more realistic expectations of ourselves by:

* being compassionate, gentle, and fair with ourselves,
* saying no when we need to,
* placing some limits on our time,
* consciously choosing our priorities, and
* spending time with the people we truly care about (not with people who drain us).

Through listening to ourselves, we can be truly present to others and enjoy their company. By not overloading ourselves with activities and responsibilities, we can find deeper satisfaction in the experiences we do have. Moreover, we can find a fuller life in a simplified one. So, the next time someone asks you how you are, why not say “I am still”, and listen to the other person? While experiencing your own centredness, it just might feel so good that you will want to do it again.

Suzanne Welstead
April 2009

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above is the "thought of the month" from one of my personal mentors. i am currently in the process of reading her first book, Searching for You: Ideas about Healthy Relationships, and i am finding so many "ah-ha" moments. if you appreciate reading the narrative of another person's realisations, then i would recommend this book to you. even if you're in healthy relationships, consider this a good reminder of the things you may forget from day to day.

Ambience

When thinking about just about anything that lies on a dimension, it is natural for me to play a little game and imagine what lies at the poles. Personality traits are often thought of as dimensions. It’s advantageous to imagine the manifestations of the ‘most,’ or the ‘least’ of some particular trait, because those images become prototypes, and all that lies between them are transformations.

When I encountered the trait self-complexity, I automatically played my little game. What would someone be like who had infinite self-complexity? It’s impossible, we might say. However, in doing calculus it is. For example, we can examine the equation y = 1\x as x approaches infinity, but we cannot look at the end-point, because it isn’t real. (neither is the point where x approaches 0). If we do the calculus for self-complexity, we find someone(s) who have identities wrapped up in increasingly higher numbers of aspects. Such persons would, by the extrapolations of evidence given in the textbook, be very resistant to stress, at least those caused by perceived social impacts, (Not those stressors that harm the body). Furthermore, such persons would be less prone to mood swings, and particular positive or negative information about them would have less of an impact on their perceived self.

It’s a fun game to play to imagine such a person, or to imagine achieving such a state. I am not sure that many people would trade the mix of happy and sad moods for a more gentle ride. It’s not even possible, is it? It would be a ridiculous enterprise to describe oneself via a humongously intricate personality profile, a task demanding enough to be exhausting on a day-to-day basis. But if we look at the calculus, we see that as the number of personality aspects increases, assuming the there is a finite amount of information to describe, those aspects get more and more specific. And, as the number of aspects approaches infinity, the specificity, or the size of the aspect approaches 0.

There are a number of ways to increase the specificity of our self-descriptions, across dimensions, or within time. If we look at time as our variable (let x be time), then the second last hypothetical individual (lets call him infinite self-complexity minus 1), would be defining themselves moment to moment, and I imagine they would be very frustrated with the whole task. What would the next person do? The last hypothetical person, the one with infinite self-complexity, would just stop defining themselves entirely. Of course this person would appear similar to someone with 0 self-complexity. The head of the process would swing right around and bite itself in the tail. Didn’t someone say, that true knowing, is knowing that you know nothing?

Interestingly there is another form of calculus that allows us to find the area of non-rectangular items. Imagine a curve on an x-y plot. We can find an estimate of the area of that irregular shape by inserting and adding up the area of a number of rectangles. However it’s an estimate because of the overlaps, and the the missing bits. But we can decrease the overlap and the missing bits by increasing the number of rectangles. The true area would be what we would find inserting an infinite number of rectangles. Of course we can’t do that, but we can find the limit to the area as we approach infinity, which gives us a pretty good answer. This might form a good analogy for increasing self-complexity across dimensions. We can see ourselves more accuratly, if we look at increasingly numerous numbers of concepts, but we lose power to grasp that concept as it gets more and more specific, and less observable.

Of course, this little game assumes that the self is finite in the first place, in which case if it isn’t, the whole process is futility ab initio.

what language are you speaking

words, words, words. our language is what has defined our entire state of being. when did we get here? how did we allow this to happen? a number of examples come to mind of how language has limited our experience of the world and ourselves. more importantly ourselves. how could anyone possibly find the articulation to encompass the indescribable? these letters, these symbols, are too small to be used in understanding the meaning of "is".

i came across a video of a young guy talking about embodiment and representation. first of all, it made me long for people that i used to have really mind-numbing conversations with. mind-numbing in the sense that i always found myself getting caught up in the unimaginable, like trying to comprehend the size of the universe. secondly, i found it very comforting to hear that some stranger, somewhere in this world, has had similar questions.

with an impending transition, i've been experiencing a number of emotions. but, when i try to share them with people i cannot quite explain what is going on inside. it gets frustrating because they can't exactly know the balance between excitement and fear, the ratio between joy and anxiety. sometimes i wish i could just touch someone so that they could hear my inner thoughts, and know that silent monologue. but, instead i've had to try to verbalise these things, and without consciously doing it i categorise and label.

in the video, the guy says: all of our thought activity is a function of the way our brains are structured rather than the way the objective world is structured... language is part of our experience, but language is essentially a biological activity. it isn't an objective representation of the world. we can't logically picture reality with human language. like vichenstein said, 'the meaning of a word is the way that it's used in a particular social context. it has no independent meaning in and of itself but within that context'.

this makes me wonder about how we must, every day, somewhat revert to those social transgressions, if i may. that we knowingly restrict ourselves by continuing to encase our experience with the meanings that have been taught to us. i even think it applies to both ends of the spectrum in terms of personal experience. my sister is going through a terrible personal struggle. with the suicidal death of one of her friends she has spun into questioning her own mortality, her ideas about existence, and her understanding of herself as a part of the universe. i know it scares her, but rather than allowing herself to be inside of those feelings she falls back on social constructs of acceptable thoughts and behaviours. apparently she cannot be sad because she has everything that should make her happy. she doesn't think that she's allowed to feel negative because there is someone else who must live with much less than she has. to be fair, sometimes it is good to be reminded that living in canada is a blessing in many ways, and that most of us do have a warm home, an education or opportunities for self-fulfillment, and people that we know and care about. we can easily find ourselves taking those things for granted. but, i don't think it is right that she doesn't give herself the permission to experience the world uniquely.

on the other hand, i also wonder about the l-word. love. so many definitions. but, do we limit our experience of love by using words? in my experience, when you meet someone and grow to love them, you understand that love before your mind thinks it. but, within our society and these constantly changing cultural norms (or abnorms), the labeling of these feelings tends to precede the innate understanding. and sometimes, we claim a love that we never feel at all. why? what do we achieve? do we "fit in"? i would much rather go my entire life in the company of a man who never told me he loved me, but showed me, than hear "i love you" and never truly believe it.

Sodium Anger Supressants

Harvesting an empire go the horses plowing salt beneath the sovereign fields of lore that once produced the finest malt from which ironically the crown exacted tribute to acquire all the horses now employed in pulling horses from the mire

The empire can’t let you become angry, for if you do, you will likely be compelled to act. An active citizenry is detrimental to the pyramidal power structure of the empire. This is why Emperor Obama has recently changed his tone back to one of hope again, hope that by downplaying the new depression we’re all witnessing, things will somehow just get better. Highlighting the bitterness of the new struggle is too real for many Americans. They like the old Obama better, the one at the forefront of some mythical renaissance about to envelop their great land. They like hearing songs about better times beyond George Bush, not speeches about how much money will be required to bail out the large handful of corrupt and teetering Wall Street financial institutions whose vaults were recently revealed to contain nothing more than a few crumpled, yellowed news pages from the Wall Street Journal.
The world’s most powerful banks are falling faster than the speed with which they swindled that cool ten trillion dollars from the lifetime savings of the working and middle classes. This is why we aren’t supposed to be angry, just utterly confused. If we don’t understand the technically incoherent Wall Street lingo, we certainly can’t come to explain how our retirement savings can disappear overnight, or how corporate bankruptcy protections enacted to save a company’s upper echelons can also terminate the majority of the workforce, immediately. If an ordinary citizen could properly do the math and explain in numbers how top corporate executives are able to garner hefty bonuses before stepping into the cockpits of other industries to garnish workers wages, they’d most certainly see before them the highway robbing bankers sanctimoniously wrapping themselves in ambiguous pages of obscure law.
If one hasn’t the vocabulary with which to define oppression, one cannot know that they are a slave. If this is the current state of the union, it is because Americans have been kept fat and satiated at home watching their television sets on pharmaceutical drugs, or otherwise tied up at work sitting through extended, unpaid overtime hours pushing pages through a computer. These corporate bailout shenanigans should have so boldly spurned the people of the United States that it’s a wonder we aren’t seeing pitchforks at the doors of Capitol Hill, especially in the hands of those Americans about to foreclose on homes purchased through predatory lending tactics. Instead, we see Barrack Obama coming to the rescue on TV with his futile government order to stop AIG executives from receiving bonuses they are legally allowed to receive. Everything is okay. You can go back to comfortably watching John Stewart laugh his way through this global financial crisis tonight because, realistically, any anger needed to topple this brutal empire should have been expressed throughout the last eight years of rule. We’re now in the house that complacency built, where the walls are transparent but nobody is looking.

Tragedy In Real Time

Pilot of this airship
I don’t hear a sound
I don’t see a wing tip
All I see is ground
I was on a round trip
First class fare
She was in the front row...I
Couldn’t help but stare...into those eyes
Falling, Falling
Those eyes
So unkind

Pilot of this airship
I don’t hear a sound
I don’t see an airstrip
Turn this ship around
I was on a round trip
First class fare
She was in the front row...I
Saw her sitting there...before too late
Falling, falling
Too late
No rewind

journey through the woods

i followed you into the dark
into a blinding night
a blackness that stole my sight

but you led me home to you
holding my hand so dear
keeping me ever near

you wouldn't let me become afraid
you made me feel more calm
soon we'd be safe and warm

you knew just the right way to go
as if you had learned those steps
you knew what to expect

so i gave myself up to trusting you
and you were my guide
hand-in-hand, by my side

Nemeses

Philistine,
You lost your honor to a boy of thirteen
Out there in the desert
Where the midday sun beats a man unrelentingly

Amen

Levantine,
The games your children play seem very obscene
They kill what they don’t understand
Always enemies

Amen

Always enemies
Always nemeses

Philistine,
You lost your armor but you kept your spleen
Out there in the desert
Where the hallowed sands bury pride so thoroughly

Amen

Levantine,
The ark is missing as it's always been
The truth lay buried in its grave
Painted with the gold of the pharisees

Amen

Always enemies
Always nemeses

which wolf will win?

an old cherokee was teaching his grandchildren about life.

he said to them, "a battle is raging inside me...it is a terrible fight between two wolves. one wolf represents fear, anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority and ego. the other stands for joy, peace, love, hope, sharing, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, friendship, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith."

the old man fixed the children with a firm stare. "this same fight is going on inside of you, and inside of every other person, too."

they thought about it for a minute, and then one child asked his grandfather, "which wolf will win?"

the old cherokee replied: "the one you feed."

(taken from a website i came across today: http://www.waynesthisandthat.com/quote.htm)

Creativity

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=86x-u-tz0MA