Archive for the ‘Life’ Category

Incomplete People


2007
04.08

There have been countless books written about confidence and how to get more of it. It’s a genuine concern for all of us at some time or another. We inevitably find ourselves confronted with a situation in which we are, for whatever reason, completely lacking in confidence to proceed in.

Fears abound us in modern-day society. We are no longer the commanders of our domain, like when we were hunter-gatherers. We rely on the actions of others for our material needs. We are cogs in the great machinery of society, a special skill developed to help turn the engine that drives our economies forward. We are also faced with situations completely removed from natural life. Public speaking is something the caveman never had to face, nor was intercontinental travel. But in this modern society, we overcame our resistance to other cultures and instead embraced them, shared them, all the while infusing ours into theirs. Ordinary people rose to the top ranks of large corporations through white-collar channels rather than battle and subterfuge. Men no longer hunted women in the same way as he might hunt a gazelle, but rather had to revert to conversation and dialog. He had to read a woman’s signals, then try to decypher what they mean. For the woman it is often just as strange, when men approach and speak nonsense in hope of impressing them, or entertain them all night unable to mouth the words of interest due to the social stigma of rejection. Or what of the countless number of people scared of the outdoors, of nature? Unable to fend for themselves, even in the most basic of natural scenarios, they would make their forefathers of only a few generations blush in their caskets. We no longer need to learn the skills of natural survival that were so essential just a century or two ago.

The fact is, we are incomplete people. We are only an element of an equation, entirely unbalanced in our efforts to fit in to modern society. We no longer seek to make ourselves the best in a wide range of endeavors, but rather to better one particular aspect of an endeavor in order to serve society better. As a whole, it makes for a better society, all the cogs working in harmony. But is it any wonder that the average person lacks confidence in a wide range of situations? We find ourselves living in a modern society with social rules and laws of manner and ettiquette, yet with biological programming identical to our spear weilding forefathers. We are conflicted, unbalanced and as a result, unconfident.

I don’t have a social answer to the larger problem, however I do have a solution to all those lacking confidence: act.

Confidence or rather, self-esteem is determined by your actions, not your thoughts. Those who are overly thoughtful, no doubt have heightened sensitivity to a whole range of topics, with increased knowledge and quite possibly the correct answer to many problems. But those who act, endear themselves with the confidence that the action brings forward into future situations.

In personal terms, conquering fear requires action. There aren’t any thoughts which can satisfactorily conquer it. Action with an external focus is the only way. External focus is important. Concentrate on the subject of your action, enjoy every part of the action, the process. Standing there on the verge of action, contemplating the result, be it success or failure, only serves to weaken confidence.

Constantly focus on things outside yourself. Let your emotions tell you how you feel, rather than analyze your own head. Act. Start small. Let that action lead to the next action, instilling confidence into the way you act, again and again. It will not always have the result you hope, but everything that happens will still give you the confidence you need for the next action because you did something. As soon as you act, you have more power than all the self-confidence boosting prop speeches gave you.

As for all the cog-in-the-wheel stuff, try not to let it bother you. Take up a new hobby. You’ll feel much better.

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An addendum. Eugenics has always been a dirty word, equated with Hitlerian aspirations of a ‘super-race’. However, while reading the Wikipedia entry for Nikola Tesla, I noticed this interesting quote:

[...] man’s new sense of pity began to interfere with the ruthless workings of nature. The only method compatible with our notions of civilization and the race is to prevent the breeding of the unfit by sterilization and the deliberate guidance of the mating instinct [...]. The trend of opinion among eugenists is that we must make marriage more difficult. Certainly no one who is not a desirable parent should be permitted to produce progeny. A century from now it will no more occur to a normal person to mate with a person eugenically unfit than to marry a habitual criminal.[ref]

I think Tesla was too optimistic of social trends. But it makes one wonder. Is the weakening of this mating instinct offset by the increased opportunities for meeting your potential mate that modern society affords? The question of who to mate with will still be programmed into us, to a degree, but how much this does or should play a role is highly debatable. As I discussed above, we have moved away from personal self-sufficiency and the pride that brings, toward a mutual interdependency and the material pride that brings. The result is a society which seeks personal happiness at any cost. When faced with one’s personal happiness over more perfect offspring, we might choose the former more readily. After all, the rule usually goes that whatever is lacking, people are more desperate to have. Poor people are thus more likely to steal and people lacking in self-worth more likely to scream “me! me! me!”.

So who would you choose? A person with a personality you like, or someone who was, eugenically speaking, a perfect match? Should that even be raised as a question?

The other side of the argument is that today’s society has moved away from the notion of physical strength. Functioning well in modern society requires superior mental ability, not pure physicality (sports men and women excepted). However is just as much a physical trait as strength, arising from superior cognitive functioning, rather than muscular.

Ethically, the whole issue is a slippery slope. While countries such as China have embarked on a program of sterilization for those with “genetic diseases of a serious nature” and even some mental health conditions. Canada had a program of eugenics which continued into the 1970s, as did other countries including my own, Australia. And surprisingly, the largest state-sponsored eugenics program behind Hitler’s was run by, you guessed it, the US of A.

Programs such as these are artificial attempts to restore the natural balance of society. Programs and policies such as Feminism, Taxation/Welfare or Economics seek to correct some failing of modern society through a set of imposed rules on it’s subjects. Yet social programs which instill their own criteria on social interaction easily circumvent human nature to suit their ends and leave society more imbalanced than ever, inevitably. I could talk about each of the above programs in detail as to why I feel they are unnatural, but I think this rant has gone on long enough.

Plus, I’m meant to be travelling, not philosophizing.

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Missing Days


2007
02.22

I don’t remember what I did on January 17th. I assume that I went to work and taught students, but I don’t know what I said or anything that happened that day. I have no recollection. It’s like it didn’t even happen. I know it did. Where did it go?

It’s not just January 17th either. It’s December 13th, 14th and 15th. The rest of December is pretty much a blur too. I remember moments where I went some place and did something, but if I had to piece it all together it would probably only account for 1-2% of my time. I don’t think I’m crazy or forgetful, it’s just that days blend into each other.

I heard that everything we do is stored in our subconscious and that we can recall it under hypnosis. But if it’s stored anyway, why don’t we just have access to it, to remember all the things we did if we choose to.

Now I can understand why people keep diaries. Writing everything down would make the past easier to recall. Once you had a few events, you’d be able to fill in the pieces. What troubles me is that people who write memoirs always appear to have such clarity about events, places and conversations. I’m sure they just make it up. After all, who else is going to remember what happened. I can’t really believe that they have always kept a diary of daily events.

The problem also with writing everything down is that it takes so much time. Writing down all the things that happened in a day would mean living the day over again, writing out the words, explaining all the things that happened. I’m sure it would take the better part of an hour. So that’s an hour out of every day which you lose just recording events, most of which are probably boring and dull.

But the bright side is, you’d be able to tell people what you were doing at any given point of history. Is that ability really worth it. I suppose at the end, when you’re almost done with life and you read back over it, you can experience your life again. I can imagine myself as a grandfather, reading an excerpt to my grandkids….

May 12th. Went to the supermarket to buy socks. Oh I remember those socks I bought. They were stripy and felt so comfortable. But they got dirty and soon I wore a hole out in the toe. Maybe I made a note of it… ah yes, June 23rd. Wore out my stripy socks today. Was very disappointed that they didn’t last longer… Timmy, Timmy, listen to your grandfather! What’s that Wendy? Well I’m sorry my life wasn’t more exciting for you. Comfort is part of a happy life and socks play a large role in that comfort. What? Fine, go and play outside.

I think it might be better to let mystery surround a life instead of laboring over stuff which wasn’t important.

What would be cool is finding some way to predict what you’ll be doing days, weeks, months or years from now. It’s possible on a small scale, but I find that it gets complicated quickly. You need constraints on your life. You may be able to predict with relative certainty that you’ll be in a certain place doing a certain activity at such and such a time. However at best this sketch will be general. At worst, it will be broken in the first minute.

The solution? Make your actions follow your predictions. In other words, plan your future.

Popularity: 2% [?]

Second Skin


2007
01.11

I find that I’ve grown accustomed to the cold. Temeratures below zero are somewhat normal and when it rises to 2 or 3 above, I comment to others that its nice and warm. I don’t know how it happened, but I think I must’ve grown another layer of fat around my body. Or a second skin.

Which makes me wonder what else I can grow under the right conditions. I saw a documentary the other day about two guys who hit stuff. By subjecting their bodies to repeated impacts, they made their bones incredibly strong. I heard of another guy who was bitten so many times by rattlesnakes that he didn’t need antivenom any more. It’s a testament to the human body that it can change and adapt to anything that humans might be stupid enough to do repeatedly.

What special skill might I be able to acquire though? I rarely jump through plate-glass windows or wrestle snakes, so the above examples aren’t really for me. I hated the cold, yes, and my body adapted, true, but I need more. Maybe the resistance from fire. You never know when your house is going to burn down. Withstanding an inferno might be a good thing. Ability to breathe underwater another. But finally, I suppose if you were going to get resistant from anything the best thing would be death.

You could start by killing yourself a little bit, then a little bit more, then a little bit more. Try a little poisoning, then a little stabbing, then a little drowning. Eventually, no-one will be able to top you off. This could be very useful for people in the shady professions. Of course, I wouldn’t try this myself. I’ll just wait for the video to appear on YouTube.

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E is P


2006
12.31

[audio:stopthistrain.mp3]

It seems that my last post was misinterpreted as the last cry of a tortured soul. So just to clear any incorrect assumptions: No, I do not want to kill myself.

What the poem was about in actual fact was the war in Iraq, but more than that, the plight of any man who leaves his family behind to put himself in the line of fire. I imagine him stepping out of his door, wondering when he will return, hoping that some stray bullet or misfortune won’t prevent this happening. I imagine all those times he just wanted to be in front of that door again, the smells of cooking and fresh linen rushing to greet him. And yet there they are on the battlefield, on a rig, sailing the seas, fate waiting at the ready to take their lives.

That people would take my poetry the wrong way, it’s comforting to know that my safety net is there. It’s also a reminder just how out of touch everyone is with me. The last thing I’d do is kill myself. I always used to ponder this subject in high school. I could never fathom why someone would take their life. It seems to me that wherever you are, there’s always something you can do before you die. For starters, go skydiving. If that doesn’t put you in touch with life, then try shaving your head and going to live in a Buddhist temple. Why not? And if you seriously must kill yourself, then why not do it creatively? Go for a swim in the ocean with slabs of bloody meat strapped to your body. A plane ticket to Africa only costs a couple of thousand dollars, any credit card will give you that. Go live with some apes like Dianne Fossey or some Grizzly Bears in Canada. What’s the worst that can happen?

No, if I’m bothered by anything it’s that we die too soon. Life seems to travel so fast, days fly by then weeks and years. In a way I’m searching for that timelessness of childhood. Back in the time when you wanted to be older so bad that days, weeks, months and years passed so slowly. Now that I’m old, just the opposite kind of time dilation is happening. Like the song, I just want this train to stop.

When you’re young you feel eternal, as though life will never stop. From this feeling comes the idea that you can be anything and everything to everyone. Then the realization comes that everyone passes and soon it will be your turn. You just have to resolve your mortality with the desire to do everything and achieve only that which is achievable in a human life. It’s that point of change which gets people down. Why do we suddenly see getting older as a bad thing? We can’t help getting older and we do it every single moment. So why not celebrate it. Can you remember the time when you were 17, a week before your 18th birthday. How you just wanted it to pass. Imagine that for your next birthday, finally being 30, 40 or 95. And why not?

So as this year ends and we all start our ritualistic grumbling of “well there’s another year”, stop yourself right there. 2007 is almost here. A new year, a new page of history, a new tableau on which to paint the colors of our lives. We’re older, wiser and living the lives we chose all those years before. We know that it’s never to late to change anything, that everything is possible. And that, concerned family and friends is my simple philosophy. E is P.

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Time


2006
11.13

It’s a Sunday night. I’ve been sitting at my computer for more hours than I care to recall. I stand up. I walk over and open the fridge. Nothing inside. The sight discomforts me, so I go to the local supermarket to find something to put inside it. I walk the aisles and visualize all of the shelved items chilling out in my white box. Nothing seems necessary to me. I buy a bottle of water and some milk and go back. I realize that what I need is not a lot of stuff to put inside my fridge but really just a smaller fridge. Milk, butter and some cans of drink would fill it and I’d feel better.

Then I recoil in horror. What am I doing? I’m worried about my fridge. Why should I even bother with nonsense like this. In the grand scheme of things, the contents of a certain cold place ain’t going to play a large role. Besides, I eat out every day and I like it that way. However it got me thinking. How necessary was anything I had done that day? I pondered it hard.

There was the morning. Always my least favorite of the various segments of the day. To me, mornings always move too fast, or I move too slow. I try to get myself together, but what with the shower, breakfast, clothing and stumbling around in a daze, I find that I just can’t be ready in any reasonable time. I’ve found that I just can’t break that hour or so of dead time where I prepare myself to face the world. Just thinking about it makes me want to hide under my doona again. On this particular day I had woken late, around 11:30 and so breakfast had to become lunch, and lunch had to be eaten out because there was nothing in my fridge that could reasonably be eaten. So I had gone out, ordered and spent another hour of dead time filling my stomach.

To me, eating has always been something of a pain. There’s the finding of the food, the preparing of the food, the actual eating of the food and then there’s the cleaning up. It’s all just too much trouble. Give me a pill of nutrition and I’ll show you a happy Dave. This is the reason I eat out. It simplifies all of the stages of the consumption process. You find the restaurant and the item on the menu, prepare it by telling the waiter or waitress what you want, eat it (not much of a change there) and then feel bad for whoever is washing up. If you ask me, this is still far too much time wasted on eating.

Then there was the rest of the day, during which I stared at the computer. Don’t ask me what I was doing. It’s not because I don’t want to tell you, it’s just because I don’t remember exactly what it was. At the time it was quite interesting. There was that video of a guy playing the piano and drums at the same time, but edited together in a process known as still motion video. That was funny. Then I must’ve watched a TV show, yes I think that was it. The rest, well, that was a blur. Looking back, I wonder why I chose to throw away those hours of my life. But not just those hours. What about all those TV shows, movies and games. I have no skills or knowledge from them which will do me any good. Was I just putting off living for all those hours. I’ve watched 24 seasons 1,2,3 and 4. That’s 4 whole days gone on just one TV show! I stopped thinking about it for fear of falling to the floor in despair.

Was I covering up my boredom by filling my time with meaningless stuff? Yes, I think I was. But if that was really true, then what meaningful thing might I do with this time? Were I Leonardo Da Vinci, I might paint a portrait or invent a new machine or study the inner workings of the human body. Not wanting to go to extremes, I thought of something more real-world, something more like my own life. I might work on a new design for my website or write a new blog entry. Surely though, this is just wasting time in a different way. It’s creatively wasting time. I suppose creative wasting is better than inactive, passive wasting. But what about creatively finding new ways to waste your time? Someone might just say that you were sitting around in your underwear watching movies all day but what you’re really doing is “studying the literary styles that the writer has used to craft the work”. Your mum tells you that it’s about time you stopped wasting time on “that stupid YouTube site”, tell her to hold off on that judgment. What you’re really doing is “analyzing” pop culture and social trends which influence the culture of tomorrow. When someone complains that you have seen the same news item three times in a day and feverishly check your social news bookmarking sites like a junkie, tell them you’re just “keeping yourself informed” of the latest in world developments. And of course, when your wife or girlfriend complains that you drink every night and come home stinking of booze at 3 in the morning, well you’re just “socializing” with friends aren’t you?

I called my friend.
“Hey, what do you do when you aren’t working or studying or eating…. or showering or traveling somewhere?” I said.
“Uh David? Is that you?”
“Yes it’s me. So what do you do?”
“Uh, I guess I watch TV or meet my friends…”
“Ah-ha! A waste of life!”. I said and hung up.

Not satisfied with just one, I called another friend and delivered the same question.
“Um…” came the reply.
“Come on! And not TV or friends, I’ve already had those two.”
“I play with my dog.”
“Pah! A meaningless waste of affection!”

Next… “I write poetry”
Ha! A self-indulgent waste of paper, worse for the pain it will inflict upon it’s eventual reader.

Next… “I like to shop”
Consuming in a mindless attempt to avoid looking at the advent of your death.

Next… “I started a company in my spare time and made myself a millionaire”
Gimme a break! That’s just work. I said not work!!!

At this point I ran out of friends who would submit to my interrogation. But that was fine because I had my answer. Everyone wastes time. Well, ok, some people don’t and make money from their efforts, but mostly everyone does at some point. You might think that you’re productive and don’t have time to waste, but it will get you in the end. You’ll give in, you’ll see a movie, you’ll read an article that isn’t completely relevant to your end-goal and that will be it, a downward spiral of use and abuse as the hours turn into days and you blindly hide away from the fact that you are in fact throwing your life away until you’re just a quivering heap of consumption, lying on the floor.

And as you pick yourself up and check your empty fridge for the fifth time that day, you won’t worry because you know that deep down, everybody does it. Even if no-one will admit it.

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A Matter of Time


2006
02.27

There comes a day when you’re not considered young any more. It’s a shame because I still feel young. Of course, the little kids I teach at the moment annoy me because they’re so stupid, but part of me wishes that I had a little body and could run around and play too. I have to snap out of it because I’m not a kid anymore.

That’s the weird thing about age. It just happens. When I hear myself talk and say “well after uni I decided to see a bit of the world” I have to stop myself and say, well hang on, that wasn’t just yesterday any more, it has been almost four years. Four years, in itself is not a long time, but the number of your age is progressing from 22 (which is a nice young age) to 26 which in Korea is 27 or even 28 depending on who you ask. So that means 30 is just around the corner, in some part of the world and that’s no age to be standing around daydreaming about climbing trees or chasing the girls until they cry.

So we have to adapt those things as best we can to match our advanced state, our numerical maturity and our larger, hormonal bodies. Which I guess means I can climb mountains and.. well chase girls and try not to make them cry. When you are young, you have years to spare and great dreams to realize. When you stop being young, you feel like you should’ve already gotten to your dreams. The question of ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ turns into ‘So what are you doing with your life?’ and that doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t feel old. I still have the impatience of youth, and that’s partly where this post comes from. But now I am starting to see how one might fall into an ordinary life. When I was younger I would see people in the suburbs with their Holden cars and their 2.3 kids and think how boring and average it was. But I guess it just sorta happens like that. After you finish dreaming, you have to start earning and once you start earning, you want to build a secure base around you to protect it. Then biological clocks tick louder, social expactations hover closer and you have to take the next step then the next. Before you know it, you’re putting up your picket fence.

I believe in dreams, I really do. But until those dreams are realized, they’re not really much good.

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