whose country?
Mine, apparently – at least, the last 17 years say so. And boy, are we in bad shape.
words’ end
searching for the ineffable
2008/6/6
just like in a movie...
You know those plots – a world is built up, then suddenly it’s all confusing and bad, and then you discover what you are sure is the context, the explanation… only to discover that while the context is true, the bad-confusion continues, so it’s not so much causal as accidental, and the author is sitting there, snickering into hir fist?
Yeah, Author? I’d like to request less misleading like that, please. If you would. (0)
2008/3/30
curiouser and curiouser...
…and not necessarily in a good way. Spring is definitely springing; everything is happening all at once. Some of it is very, very good (more on that soon). Some is… not. My heart aches for its attendant body-and-mind, and – in a different way – for a loved one. My mind reels. My body is a bit shell-shocked by all the house-painting and weight lifting and weather changes, but this part is good, it reminds me I’m still alive and not suspended in some alternate universe, flailing a bit and effecting change whose ramifications won’t become clear for months to years hence. And so we walk on. (0)
Mine, apparently – at least, the last 17 years say so. And boy, are we in bad shape.
Oh, oh, read this. Please. Nicole nails several issues in ways I haven’t even thought of.
Two anniversaries were celebrated in the past two days, that I did not write about. But I’ve been thinking and reading, and learned a whole lot from Ari Kelman’s post on The Edge of the American West about Martin Luther King, Jr., whose birthday was celebrated (well, sorta) on the 21st.
I say sorta because, though it’s a federal holiday, and people do hold special events, it just doesn’t penetrate the collective psyche like 4th of July or Labor Day or whatnot. That’s hardly a surprise, I suppose.
And speaking of civil liberties, yesterday was 35 years since the Roe v. Wade ruling, which deemed laws against abortion unconstitutional. I know exactly where I stand on the issue: I’d defend every woman’s right to make the difficult choice of whether to have a child, but people also have (at least in the U.S.) the right to speak out against it. Of course, even recent history hasn’t been at all civil: women are harrassed, persecuted, people are killed by anti-choicers. Regardless of whether one thinks abortion is murder most foul, killing in retaliation perpetuates the problem of murder in a very concrete way. I wonder if this topic will generate any productive nationwide conversation in my lifetime.
At a weekly teachings/meditation group this morning, conversation turned to… Dubya. If love and compassion for all beings is a goal, how do you reconcile that with strong negative feelings you have towards someone, whether a world leader or anyone else affecting your life in significant and negative ways?
Someone said that it helps her to think of humans like this as people who are seeking peace and love and contentment in their own ways, which she may or may not understand. We may disagree with how they’re going about attaining that contentment – even strongly enough to attempt counteracting the effects of their actions sometimes, when the price they are willing to pay is too high. But the fact of this quest is in itself worthy of compassion.
Then there’s something else. Negative feelings directed toward another human being happen sometimes. Like thoughts happen while you’re meditating. With the latter, it’s useless to deny their existence: you acknowledge them, detach your self from them, watch them pass like clouds. Over and over, gently, until (presumably; I haven’t gotten to that point yet) they stop coming. Maybe the negativity is like those thoughts; we can acknowledge it, but channel whatever feelings arise into love and compassion, and act from there. The resulting action may be the same; but where it comes from will inform its true content and impact, and maybe even how it is perceived by others.
Just idle thoughts; as my mom would say, I have an A in theory. Practice is harder. But in the meantime, I give you “Imagine This.” Do watch the video; it’s strangely inspiring and thoughtful, not at all a mockery, as I had expected it to be.
If you haven’t inspired me yet and feel like doing so, please comment there. And if you have, thank you. What people have written so far has brought home the astonishing reserves of kindness manifest in those I know.
What brings you profound contentment? Must be (optionally or necessarily) solitary.
What I like about this small collection of links is that none of them came from News of the Weird. This is all off my feed reader – you know, BBC, Wired, ScienceBlogs, personal blogs, that sort of thing. On to the articles of interest:
If your surgeon is a videogaming geek and has played around with a Wii, you may be in luck! Chances are, her skills have improved.
I love Norway: “A millionaire real-estate magnate and art dealer from Setesdal in southern Norway has been fined NOK 425,000 (USD 85,000) for drunk driving, and been further required to chop wood for 30 days.”
Hey, baby, want to see my spy gear?
And on a slightly more serious note, here’s a well-written article on the politics of legal and illegal drugs. Even if the author get just a tad too earnest, I am thankful for publications like SFGate, which run these stories from time to time to remind us that the war on drugs has nothing to do with science.
MacBook Air! So slim, so slick, such a great screen, so light!
…But only one USB port and no Firewire? What’s up with that? I guess I could live without an Ethernet port – they have an adapter for that – and maybe a small USB hub would be ok… but still! No Firewire? So it’d take forEVER to back up unless I buy a Time Capsule? Bah.
I’ll stick with my MacBook Pro for now, especially, you know, with the whole job thing. The biggest problem with my current machine is its extreme overheating abilities (burn baby burn!), and really, I’ll deal – plus, other gadgets and projects will have much higher priority even when I do have a job. But, as every year, it’s hard not to get excited about all the cool new Apple toys.
Dear Mr. Zafrin:
[ha, Mr. again]
This is to acknowledge receipt of your application materials for the position of Coolness in the Local University Libraries. Resume review is currently in progress and you will be notified by the end of the month as to the status of your candidacy.
Cool deal, I like knowing a timeline. But acknowledging receipt of my app two months after I submitted it electronically makes me giggle in both amusement and frustration. Particularly since another Local University managed to lose my application somewhere between [electronic-only] submission and its ultimate destination. So the person who was to review it didn’t receive it until Friday before Christmas. Way to keep me on my toes, Academe (and yet, I love you so).
I’ll only get through this job search if I don’t take anything personally. In the job search or in my personal life, for that matter. This is where the Buddhists come in handy: when there’s nothing to do, do nothing. Sit there. Abide, don’t think, and so on. Well, maybe think on the Nature of Things. But, if possible, without actually thinking.
In other news, I’ve found a favorite employment recruiter. She’s awesome, thorough and just casual enough to put me entirely at ease while instilling me with complete confidence in her abilities. Rock on.
…is a treasured rarity. After a three-hour (or so) conversation over food and drinks and even dessert, I came home with a light shining somewhere near my solar plexus. Excuse me while I go savor the feeling of a good-people day. (Or is it a good people-day?)
Snow tends to stick to the skylight in the bedroom (which is one of only two windows in the room), cutting back on available light quite a bit. On the other hand, turning up the desklamp’s gooseneck so that it shines at the skylight, a trick I often use in general, makes light reflect brighter. Which is especially useful towards the evening. Score!
Coming back from the T after lunch with a loving friend, I walked through that magical moment where each branch of every tree is covered with fluffy snow. The trees are starkly black and white. Soon the snow will settle and weigh itself down from the branches. Fleeting moments like this are good reminders of the value of daily mindfulness.
Cures for what ails ya (or me, anyway, specifically today, more specifically when the ailment is wintertime depression and life’s turbulence):
Long walk with a good friend, conversation, laughter and groceries. Ocean’s Thirteen. Making a good-hearted effort to connect with someone, even if it brings no result. Getting things out of the house that need to be got out of the house. Reading fluffy sci-fi. Napping with the cats.
Mental and emotional clutter: successfully reduced. Though at a price, as it’s 3:30am, and I get up in five hours to go listen to a lovely Tibetan man tell me about meditation and related practices. On the other hand, there’s nothing quite like the delight of middle-of-the-night quiet. As quiet as we get around here, anyway, what with Nochka tearing around the room in feline ecstasy (this is one of her three or four usual states). Aki watches her indulgently – such behavior is beneath him except when it’s not – and bats her away when she gets too close.
Have you read and liked Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere?
Then run don’t walk to read “The Invisible City; or, Dick Mayhew and his Marvellous Cat.”
I don’t remember ever recommending “fan fiction” to anyone. This kept me glued to the screen.
Yesterday I took down one of the shelving units in the bedroom. There’s a great book purge going on (good excuse to host a party sometime soon!), and the shelving units are stacked two high, and this one was blocking the radiator. Its lower half is still blocking the radiator, but I’ve discovered that corner – the farthest corner from my bedside vantage point – is where the sunlight lands when it enters through the slanted skylight.
In the old country we called these sun bunnies. They move around the room, and if they’re made by something in motion – the face plate of a watch, or the little crystal hanging in my skylight and throwing rainbows onto the walls – they move quick like bunnies. This almost never fails to brighten my mood; if nothing else, it means that the outside world is full of inviting sunlight. After yesterday’s downpoury drear, a clear shiny day is particularly welcome.
Today I will wear a dress, and stripey tights, and take a walk, and sing. What’s with the spring-like weather, anyway? Does this mean we get winter until May? And yet, New England has me by the heart.
I grew up a three-hour train ride from Odessa, a Urkainian resort town on the Black Sea famous for its Jewish population and the denizens’ sense of humor. (Some of the best Soviet stand-up comedians…. well, sorta stand-up comedians… came from there.) My family had friends there, and we went there several times when I was growing up.
The most memorable of those trips was one when I got a kidney infection from swimming in the sea, with its notoriously dubious and changing pollution levels. I do not recommend the experience to anyone; nevertheless, I remember Odessa fondly.
Now, check out these photos from 31 December. Pretty, if stark; but the color of the water! Gah!
An hour ago I woke up from a nightmare in which we (whoever “we” is) were on a road trip somewhere in a camper, stopped for a picnic in a park, let the cats out, and Aki got mauled by a bear.
But wait, it gets better! The bear, an adolescent cub really, took him in both its front paws and twisted him a bit — something I doubt a bear would be able to do. I remember thinking that there were no sickening breaking sounds, and that this meant there was hope. I somehow wrested him from the bear, and he was lying in my arms belly up, eyes wide like Puss in Boots’, staring at me. I was asking some dog-walking jogger ladies where the nearest animal hospital was, feeling very vivid shock, when I woke up to Aki on my belly, purring sleepily as he had been doing for hours.
He never lies on my belly for hours; I’m usually too tossy-turny. But he did, and I was still enough for his highness, and I think this was my first nightmare ever about him.
I’m glad that nightmares aren’t a regular occurrence, because man, they sure are intense when they happen.
Of course, now I want to go on a road trip with the cats. But the idea of a gas-guzzling camper has always bothered me, and who knows how they’d do in a Honda Fit?
It seems that lately most of what I do is bide my time, waiting for events to happen that are almost entirely out of my control, holding it (what’s “it”?) together with duct tape in the meantime. Life’s on hold, and that’s a dangerous combination with unemployment: too many hours in which to think. So I’ve been learning Flash, reading the books I can concentrate enough to read (surprisingly few), plotting home improvement projects, executing personal improvement projects. I have exhausted my supply of TV-on-DVD-and-internets, and that’s probably a good thing. I’ve been sleeping more than usual, which has enabled thinking for hours with my eyes closed without falling asleep. Neat trick.
An evening in the company of powerful and warm people sure helped! The tasty cheese and homemade baklava didn’t hurt, either. For the first time in days, my head is clear and my heart at peace. Tomorrow… will come tomorrow. Tonight I enjoy the quiet.
The cats have been sleeping on the bed more. This is a clear win.
These wishes from Neil Gaiman’s journal have been going around:
May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art — write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.
All of that would be nice. So far, I’ve surprised myself.
