Sunday

So I spent the night at the Simms house again last night. How I manage to get myself into these strange and awkward situations I do not know. I like to call it my chaos magnet. Rode home at around one o’clock this afternoon and took a little nap. Took care of a little laundry this afternoon and was trying to dry my clothes outside under overcast conditions with intermittent drizzle. Its all hanging in my room now, it’s almost dry. I made some lentil soup for the crew here for dinner. It was alright, nothing spectacular. I keep putting off planning my next WOOF placement and getting my dial up to work. I realized that the numbers I have for access from Moncton or St. John are long distance numbers. I was going to try to use the dial up access that they have going here but I don’t know the access password. I could ask but I don’t expect them to trust me with it. I would really like to get this stuff on the web, still deciding if I will create a new blog or if I will just use the one I currently have. I should come up with titles for these entries, that is always fun. I haven’t started writing the book, perhaps I will begin tonight. I may get a lift from Marcelle on Friday to a larger city center that I can begin my roaming-between-WWOOF-placements-travel from. A new WOOFer just showed up, Jordan from Edmonton. He caught me here typing away sucking down power to play my Mushroom Jazz accompaniment. I think it is tea time, the honey they have here is to die for and I have been using it to sweeten my teas. Mmmmmm.

Saturday

OK, very interesting party. Many of the people I have met over the past week were there, young and old alike. A new guy, Sam the son of Elaine, was also there. We were playing games, drinking, dancing, eating, and Sam proved to be another practitioner of my ancient art. I ended up relearning a few dance steps that I learned down in Costa Rica with Marcelle. A few of us stayed up to the wee hours of the morning and I ended up staying the night. She reminds me a little of Annabelle. I was quite hung over today. A bunch of us went for a little hike up to the lookout to help burn off the excess from the night before. Nice view. Adam and I biked over to the Simms house to watch the hockey game. Sam was there.

Friday

So today I covered the rest of the prepared beds at Simms road with straw and then finished off weeding and preparing the rest of them. The black flies were out, really getting to me at times. They seem to really like my ears, the itching is truly a test of my equanimity. I’m all showered up and ready to go to the party. I’m not sure what to expect but it is a good crew here and I’m sure it will be a good time.

Thursday

So last night I hung out with Adam from BC, need I say more. I got to know him and this guy Matt a little better. Matt is from Kirkland. He is Polish and reminds me of Yakoff Smirnoff. Simon, one of the full timers in charge of forestry stuff, stopped by with a Keith’s in hand and sat down with us to play some cards. I was pretty quiet and the conversation stayed simple and related to the game of gin. This morning I helped Sally build a little bridge across a stream and to clear up some paths with a chain saw. This afternoon we were back to the Simms road garden. I planted some yellow peas of some sort, prepared some more beds, covered them with compost and then some straw, and of course I did some more weeding. I took Alan and Matt along the path I was introduced to this morning and almost got us lost. Alan showed me the path to the waterfall in the woods. It was quite fantastic. The whole thing is covered with moss and faces west so in the late day sun it was really incredible to look at. I love the soothing white noise of falling water. If Alan had not been with me I would have sat and absorbed it for a longer time. I’m going to try to get these posts onto the web tonight. I just heard Ali call us for dinner. Later.

Wednesday

Finished weeding the big organic CSA garden today. I was good and muddy so I rinsed off my boots and rain pants with the hose and took a nice shower. Dinner is being cooked tonight by Portia, the vegan no wheat girl. I overheard her talking to a boyfriend who had very recently become an ex-boyfriend last night. I tried not to eavesdrop but you can’t always control what subject gets your attention. There is going to be a party this weekend at the Simms house which is where a number of the full-timers live. They claim it will be like no party I have ever been to. Should be interesting. It has been cold around here and I have been very happy to have my sleeping bag and little fleece blanket with me. This place has had a few little tours of school kids come through. It has been nice to see the enthusiasm of the people who work here. They seem to really believe in what they are doing. Who knows how much new information I have processed or how many new thought tangents my mind has wandered down since I have been here. I look forward to many more.

Tuesday

So I’ve been working in three gardens so far. The Simms road garden, Gene’s garden, and the certified organic CSA garden. Mostly weeding, setting up chicken wire fences for the peas to grow up, seeding some beds with herbs, laying straw, raking rocks. I was so tired when I finished at five that I had to take a little shut-eye. There are lots of people here; full timers, interns, other woofers, management, help. I’m still working on that list of names. I’m enjoying hearing the fascinating stories of these people and their lives. Breakfast and lunch are eaten up at the main house and dinner is in my little cabin with the interns. My house is known as the Cheerio as it was some sort of motel at some point in it’s past. The sign above the door says “The Smurf House” which I feel is more appropriate. I went for a fairly long walk after dinner and explored a few of the many trails that start here and head up into the woods. I walked over some little man made bridges and sat and relaxed on a hand crafted wooden bench that was made from twigs and branches rather than planks or boards. When I got back I sat down and drew a little picture of my room.

Fallsbrook Day One

OK, so I made it to New Brunswick. The long bus ride started at 7:30pm yesterday night in Beaconsfield and ended at 8:55am eastern time in Florenceville, NB. The ride offered little sleep to this weary traveler due to tight space, a somewhat unwelcome seatmate for the first half of the trip, and a racing mind that was little interested in focusing on the soothing in and out of my natural breath. My ride Andrea was there within ten minutes of my arrival, enough to give me a slight case of the worries but not enough to cause any real panic. The day has been long, it still feels like yesterday. I did some weeding of a small berry garden and a larger vegetable garden, had a wonderful lunch and participated in a pot lunch dinner. I helped make some apple crisp so as not to show up empty handed. I’d go into more detail but I am very tired and need to meditate for a bit before I go to bed. My allergies seem to be bothering me but it may just be that cold I was suffering from or simply a lack of sleep. I’ll finish here by trying to remember as many names as I can. Andrea, Alan, Alli, Liz, Anne, Marcelle, Danielle, Sheila, Tegan, Leland, Leona, Katherine, Shasha, Wayne, Mike, Mike’s wife, Raylene, Gene, Elaine, Sam, Conny, Burle, Michael, Simon, Portia, Adam, Sara, Laurie, Matt, Sally, Jordan.

Peaceful Volunteering

Got back from the meditation centre last night. What a great way to spend two weeks. I was volunteering there for the spring work period. They were building a number of cabins in the woods and I got to help with some of the basic physical labour of carrying and shoveling and with some drywall cutting and initiating. I spent most of the time working in the kitchen preparing healthy hearty vegetarian meals for a crew of up to thirty and of course cleaning up afterwards. I can't describe the feeling of working with people who were all working for the greater good rather than their own. When there were problems we found solutions rather than someone to blame. When there were decisions to be made we tended towards consensus rather than relying on a leadership hierarchy. There were high levels of trust and responsibility. I learned and grew while I was there. Meditating using a technique aimed at eliminating blind reactions and seeing things as they truly are for three hours a day acted as a catalyst in the growth process. I met so many good people who I was able to share some of myself with in return for a bit of their selves. I helped out with a children'ss meditation course and was awed by the energy. Heading to New Brunswick on Sunday night for my next adventure, perhaps somewhere along the way I will try to capture some of my deeper thoughts, I've got plenty of them. All I'll say is that I have experienced something more than an intellectual understanding of the world beyond what I think I am and I am ready to experience more. An old friend is back in town, it will be good to see him before I leave. Time to go see an epic with my little brother.

Packing Forever

It's been tough filtering everything I have down to what I can carry. Thank goodness herself that I have access to a warehouse to leave my stuff in. No Buddha gonna tell me I can't have my stuff. I bought these granite gear compressor bags from the base camp store down the road, they certainly do compress stuff. N'stuff. I'm worried I don't have room for my runners. Hmmmm. Where there's a will ... There could have been a willy. I slept in the tent last night right here in the basement. I'm like a kid, I hope, (you wish old man), who said that? This computer is going in the bag, the old one is going upstairs for the family. I'm sure it will be the centerpiece of many many argumentsand control struggles in the near future. I wasn't here for the software transfer. Don't get me started about this computer. I think she snores.

Prime Again

I just realized that I'm prime again. Perhaps this holds some significance. I was trying to think if years 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, or 23 play a more important role in my history. I remember thinking for several years that 23 was the ideal age (this line of thought only began once I was no longer 23). I will assume that prime years are significant in order to reap the rewards of a self fulfilling prophecy.

Tillsammans

My Definition

Don't you hate it when people tell you who you are? Tell you what you would do? Tell you what you would say? Tell you what you would choose? It's not so much that the act of prediction is unwelcomed, it's more that the certainty just rubs me the wrong way. How should you react to someone expressing their opinion of who you are as unquestionable fact? I try not to do it to myself even. There are ways of expressing things that acknowledges the difference between opinion and truth. Unfortunately in this day and age the former is far less elusive than, and often mistaken for, the later.

NB the Karma

I may have found a ride to New Brunswick. The timing and destination were almost prefect. Maybe having a few beers is good for the Karma.

Needsgiving

There is often a significant difference between giving someone what they need and giving someone what you think they need.

Absolute Understanding

I can't stand the absolute. Should we draw our lines in the sand or etch them in stone? I'm trying to turn your stone into sand, I'm not trying to redraw your lines. Turning the other cheek and turning your back are not the same thing. The willingness to die for something does not indicate a low valuation of life it expresses a high valuation of that something. People without a legitimate means of expressing themselves will find an illegitimate means. Your pain is not special. Nobody will ever understand you if you refuse to try to express yourself. Nobody will ever want to understand you if you do not want to understand them. Nobody will ever understand you if you do not try to understand yourself. You will never be finished trying to understand yourself. The people who love you are the ones who are willing to tell you the things you don't want to hear. The people you love are the ones you really listen to. There is nothing wrong with trying to understand something that you do not think you agree with. Nobody has it all figured out just yet.

Horns du Diable

Twenty Nine and all's well. I'm leaving on a little tour in a couple of weeks, I should start getting my sh1t together. I realized what \m/ represents the other day and I think I like it. Rock on baby!

Que Sera Sera

Some people pride themselves on knowing how the world is. Some people pride themselves on knowing how the world should be. Some people realize that neither is knowable and simply dedicate themselves to trying to make what will be a little better than what is.

Thou Shalt Know Hereafter...

Tough weekend. It seems that I shyed away from an opportunity for some deeper reflection, from the opportunity to encourage some deeper reflection, and from the opportunity to share the results of both. I still haven't found my true voice. My head is swimming and my heart is aching and neither understands the other. Perhaps some sleep will help.

Frustration in the Middle

I'm a little frustrated right now. I just had an argument where my side was the bigger picture, where my side was to see it from both sides, where my side was to face the pain and have faith that there is something better on the other side. I wasn't looking to be told that I was right, I was looking to be told that I might not be wrong. The people who are the most certain that others will never change are usually unwilling to change themselves. The cycle will never end if you continue to give what you receive and say that it was theirs to begin with. Am I repeating myself or what?

Is that really...

...Mitch Kramer in the bottom left pic?

Equilibrium To Forever

So if you hadn't noticed I changed the title of this thing. The source remains the same, the mood a little different. For whatever reason I have been thinking of this line over and over for the past week or so and finally acknowledged that it more accuratly defined my current undefinable pattern of thought. The sub-heading may experience a little flux over the next while. Any feedback?

The irony of the open mind

The closed minded are those who most strongly believe they are open and the open minded are those who are aware of just how closed they are. Once again I think it is more of a process than a state of the mind.

Open Fractal Psyche Minds

This was interesting.
So was this.

i is complex

If the human consciousness is a bridge between the finite and the infinite, between mind and matter, between the discrete and the continuous then which realm's laws is it subject to? If instantaneousness is an illusion of perception then what can be said of death? Perhaps the solution is in the complex plane. That's where the tachyons live right?

The Undiscovered Country,

from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will...

What can ya do?

Guilt. Where does it come from? Expectations? Responsibility? Obligation? Duty? Desire? Dissatisfaction? Perfectionism? Limitations? Weakness? Regret? Or perhaps it results from the lack of acknowledgement and acceptance of its source. A quiet voice ignored will eventually shout to be heard.

Beauty, eh?

I couldn't sleep so I figured I would share a little something that has been running through my mind. I have been thinking that the purpose of life is to build something beautiful. That raises the question of what is beauty. The clichéd response to which is beauty is in the eye of the beholder. This is often interpreted as meaning that beauty is subjective. I am beginning to form the opinion that beauty is a process rather than a state. Beauty is experienced, inspired, and shared. That which begets beauty is beautiful. It would then follow that to build something beautiful is simply to play a part in the process of beauty. Eh?

Historical Friendship

I love old friends. People who have spent enough time with you to know you and who know you well enough not to define you. People who really listen to you and who you really want to listen to. People who are a part of you by your own choice and who choose to make you a part of them. I love old friends.

Don't Ask Don't Tell

What has happened to the art of human interaction. I'm not talking about a Victorian social etiquette, I'm simply talking about the verbal and non-verbal negotiation process that precedes any real information exchange. Some people come at you telling you what they want to tell you or asking you what they want to ask you without obtaining your consent. After their steamroller has obliviously rolled over each and every one of your expressions of a lack of desire to participate in their despotic dialog a counter-strike of rudeness is the only means available to you to avoid being flattened like a pancake. "Well, you didn't have to say it like that!" Actually I did because that is the only way I can make you hear it.

Stop Hitting Your Sister!

People often assume that as a third party their job is to judge between two sides rather than to facilitate the negotiation of a common one. Few middlemen are willing to work towards their own obsolescence. They prefer to keep things apart rather than bring them together. Voluntary power dissemination? Empowerment? Is it they or you who are not ready for it?

Climbing Under the Influence

Ambition, oft criticized in others, is rarely considered to be a problem in ourselves. The layers of justification are painted on thick but few realize that their walls are made of paint alone. Shouldn't the structure of what you stand for stand on its own? Are the paint fumes impairing your judgment?

Out of Tolerance

We tolerate things, other people, and ourselves. We sometimes equate tolerance with virtuousness, other times with depravity. At times it is a sign of self control, other times a sign of apathy or ineffectuality. If you consider it praiseworthy you may take it too far. If you consider it shameful you may not go far enough. The recovery from these extremes can be a rocky ride. The path of grace is beyond canon; ride it gently.

Choose Life

What humanity claims as its greatest achievements seem to be like bandages on gaping wounds that were created by humanity itself. The bandages often open up new wounds themselves. Wounds of industrialization, of urbanization, of polarization, of militarization, of intellectualization, of categorization, of humanization. There seems to be a tendency towards the celebration of man rather than the celebration of life.

Quick Question

Is knowing that the unknowable is unknowable knowable?

Universal Faith

Implicit in most belief is disbelief. I believe in the absence of disbelief. Inclusive and all-encompassing isn't it? Fight paradox with paradox!

Mu!

How can you say something unspeakable? How can you express something indescribable? How can you know something indefinable? Is the set of all sets that are not members of themselves a member of itself? How can you become what you will be? How can you be what you are?

Back Brain Logic

Sometimes you need to be reminded of where you are in your life. Sometimes you need to remind yourself where you are in your life. Nothing like a nice clear message from the boss telling you that yesterday doesn't cut it today. Thanks boss. I almost forgot.

Empty Relations

My mother had a boyfriend who explained to me that everything is at its heart just empty space. The universe is mostly empty space between galaxies, galaxies mostly empty space between stars and planets, matter mostly empty space between molecules and atoms, atoms mostly empty space between the electrons and the nucleus... At each level of scale there seems to be a great deal of empty space however the scale below is conceived of as full. Galaxies full of stars, a glass full of water, a memory full of pain. The conceptualization of an amalgamation of smaller elements in space-time abstracts away the empty space between them. It seems we give great significance to the elements rather than their circumstances and interrelation. It might be argued that all that we perceive are relationships. Relationships of previously perceived relationships. Patterns of patterns. Perception itself is a relationship. What is at the deepest level and what is at the highest level? The alpha and the omega? Can anything exist without its opposite? Should I say "be perceived" rather than "exist?" Is it all just waves on a sea of empty space?

Inertial Vectors

If you push on something perpendicularly to the direction it is moving the resulting direction of travel will depend on the momentum before the push and the force of the push. Some would call the momentum a "desire" to maintain the status quo. Some would call the experience of a push-back from that something a "resistance" to change. No matter how hard you push, a perfect right angle (or left angle) turn is unachievable without first stopping it completely. If you push too hard you might break it. Maybe lots of little pushes would be more effective than one big one.

Aware-Awareness

I remember watching a lot of science documentary and science fiction TV as a youngster which often contrasted humanity with computers, robots, animals, and aliens in order to investigate what it means to be human. One of the main distinguishing characteristics of humanity was this thing called self-awareness. I never fully understood how or why that made a difference. I think that awareness of self is what enables the vast range of human capability but it is only the awareness of that awareness that can guide that capability. The observer must also be observed for it to be true complete self awareness. This is that old recursive paradox I love so much. Perhaps that is why things come in pairs. I'll observe your back if you'll observe mine.

I Soothsay it's Π Day

WWdN reminded me that today is Π day. Oh, and I should also add to Beware the Ides of March!

Who Remembers Getting Floored By These Four?

Short Selling

Failure is an option, just keep it below the threshold of catastrophy and learn from it rather than react to it.

Cooperate Yourself

Just because you allow yourself to indulge a craving does not mean that you have lost control to your animal nature. Just make sure to keep an eye on yourself and ensure that things don't get out of hand. Trust, respect, and cooperate yourself.

T.S. Eliot:

Four Quartets

Contiguous Simulacrity?

I was reading my Ode to the Third Port and I came across the idea that in order to change (i.e. learn or un-learn) one must be in two places at once. After reading it I thought I might offer an alternative; being in one place at twice. I'll leave it at that for now.

Relatively True

Accusational words beget defensive words. Defensive words beget accusational words. The system will degenerate unless both sides move towards the neutrality of absolute truth through the acknowledgement of relative truth. Is "Accusational" a word? It is in my world.

Loopy Moods

It is sometimes difficult to recognise emotional feedback from others. We are often either oblivious to it or assume that it is meant for someone else. We tend to see someone's mood as slow and static rather than quick and dynamic and thus rarely implicate ourselves in its modification at any given moment. While it is true that we are not responsible for the emotional response of another being we should attempt to be aware of our role in it. It is only that awareness that is slow and static. Our intellect operates in this imaginary world of detached objectivity. Lets not forget the experimenter effect.

Matters of my Mind

I took the afternoon off to relax by the water and enjoy a good book (Lila) in this beautiful weather we are experiencing. The view of the river fit with the story of piloting a sailboat down the Hudson river. I ended up walking the halls of the CEGEP I attended back in the early nineties. Come to think of it I graduated almost ten years ago. I felt as alone and alien in the place as I did back then. I also ran into the owner of the bar I had my last significant drunken experience at last fall. He was opening another bar, an Irish pub, named for his mother's maiden name which happens to also be the maiden name of my cousin's wife. I noticed that I have this habit of looking away from people when talking to them and that I have a strong aversion to sentences that start with "you know what you should do?".

The looking away probably has something to do with the fact that I tend to speak about myself with preprepared chunks of information rather than a dynamic flow. Maybe I don't like to experience a persons reaction to what I am saying while I am saying it because I know that in the past I have had a tendency to cater to their reactions. I tend to not enjoy talking about myself because I fear criticism and get a bad taste in my mouth from advice, regardless of the good intentions. With all my lip service to open-mindedness my own perspective is the last thing I wish to discuss with anyone. It's not that my mind is closed but rather I feel that trying to describe a static picture of its contents tends to help close it. I think speaking has an effect of somehow setting things in stone for me. The dynamic nature of my own thought is easy to accept but exposing that flux to others produces some anxiety thus ideas that have been shared tend to become entrenched. Some people have this tendancy to want me to explain myself when that is exactly what I am trying not to do. It is easy to forget that you are trying to eliminate a pattern of behavior when that pattern is expected of you. It is hard enough that you expect it of yourself.

I stopped by a little coffee shop and overheard some teenagers having a conversation about which came first, the chicken or the egg. There was a day when their simple juvenile arguments would have enraged me but not today. I was just happy to hear youth beginning to examine the intellectual paradoxes inherent in the cause and effect perceptual framework imposed by consensus reality.

"What if my whole life was wrong?"

I was watching something on Mountain Lake PBS last night called The Power of Intention and the speaker quoted someone with something like "You don't want to die with your music still in you" and similarly the title of this post. Make it right and set it free.

Thread the Needle

Where is that happy place between getting angry and saying nothing, between reaction and supression, between self-servience and self-control?

Beware The Infinite Slope

Instant gratification. The desire for it creeps up in so many places. We act and we want immediate evidence of our effectiveness, we speak and we want people to understand and be affected on the spot, we see someone do something and we want to believe that we can do the same thing right away, we demonstrate and want others to be likewise capable as soon as we are finished, we read something once and we think that is the same as knowing it, we write something and think everyone will understand it after one reading, we think and we want to believe that we have achieved the pinnacle of human rationality. Only the mind is capable of anything seemingly instantaneous, the rest of the universe moves in infinitesimal increments. Baby steps. Be patient and don't get too far ahead of the real world, it needs your guidance right here and right now to help get ever so slightly closer to where you wish it would be.

Your Outer Child

I'm playing a bit of a parental role this weekend and it is reminding me that the difficulties in dealing with outer children are the same as those in dealing with inner children. Logic is not sufficient. You are the cause of your frustration, not the child. The method used to convey an idea is occasionally contrary to that very idea itself. The medium is the message? Anyhoo, I'm feeling lots of appreciation over here. Lots-O-Love.

Barfing Totalrama

OK, after further reminiscence, I have realized there was more to the Total Barfarama incident than I initially recalled. It seems that reason was silently driven by emotion and emotion fueled by reason, and so on, and so on, ad infinitum. Due to various historical influences I had a fear that my seatmate on the bus was sleeping with my girlfriend. I was invited to the fete that preceded the bus ride via a phone call from my girlfriends house by my seatmate. Lets just say I was a little agitated and had no outlet. So I pushed things down below the conscious level. On the bus my unwillingness to yield the window seat may well have been an expression of anger. I also needed to see a man about a horse so getting the driver to stop the bus would have been in my interest. My seatmate's dilemma was likely not a fear of the vomiting itself but a fear of people's reaction to the vomiting. His conflict was with his own intellectualization of the situation and resulting suppression of his natural instinct, which would have been to just barf. Now he claims that the upset stomach was a result of some anti-inflammatory pills he was taking. Could it have been guilt? Not necessarily for actions taken but for actions considered. Not necessarily for thoughts but for feelings. I can't say. All I know is that my guilt and his anger related to the actual barfing situation seemed to have cancelled something out, allowed for mutual release, and brought us a little closer together.

Total Barfarama

A buddy of mine reminded me of an old story from our adolescence. Thinking about it made me realize how poetic it was. I played the role of reason and he that of emotion; a classic formula for communication breakdown. We were on a bus together, I in the window seat and he in the aisle seat. He felt ill and feared he was going to vomit. This was due to something we both had consumed before getting on the bus and because of this we were also concerned that the authority figures along on the trip would find out. He was driven by a de facto uncontrollable imperative. I, not being privy to the physicality of his predicament, was more concerned with arriving at a logical solution to the problem. He felt we should switch seats to allow him access to the window whereas I thought he should either will the urge away or ask the driver to pull over. As is the case with most stalemates, the result was messy. The vomit ended up on the floor in front of us. We both suffered for our inability to reach a compromise. I explained to the authority figures that he suffered from problems with motion sickness and thankfully the effluent did not give away its true chemical nature. His resulting burden was embarrassment and our shared burden was living with sticky soles to our shoes. But that incident broke the ice and allowed us to quickly get acquainted with the other people on the trip. It was exactly what the doctor ordered for a couple of conceited cocky bastards who were looking to meet some new people and have some fun.

Lonelicasting

Do people talk to you sometimes in such a way that you are aware they just wanted to tell somebody, anybody, what they had to say. Makes me feel inhuman. Do we know what conversations are people? Just because you are lonely and tired of listening to yourself think does not mean that the cure to that loneliness is to have someone else listen to it. But what is the right response? I guess I should see through the blather, recognize the loneliness, and just be supportive. I can't hide disinterest though. It's not that I'm disinterested in them, just disinterested in what they are telling me. I have to be kind and honest.

Harmonic Discord

I recently read or heard somewhere that wisdom was the ability to hold multiple incongruous ideas in the mind at one time. Are you afraid to entertain guests of thought that seem incompatible with what you currently believe?

Conflicting Choices

If you believe that life is conflict then that is what you will see. Your focus will be on differences and opposition. Casual observations will be seen as criticism, humour will be taken as insult, offers of help will be seen as implications of weakness, and every action will be attributed to a selfish motive.

If you believe life is cooperation then that is what you will see. Your focus will be on similarities and synergism. Casual observations will be seen as interesting perspectives, humour will be funny, offers of help will be welcomed acts of kindness, and every action will be attributed to a genuine desire to do what is best.

Your reaction to your experience is your choice. Choose wisely.

Pan Horama

If one stands facing east,
With another facing west,
Back to back, how can they know,
Of both, which view is best?
It seems that each would need to turn
For panoramic vision.
But each taking a simple step,
Straight back from where they stand,
Would see the other view reflected
In the face of a newfound friend.

And cached within those mirrored views
Of each companions visage;
The image of the other self
Would be right there to glimpse.
The first and only likeness,
That each could truely see,
Of their self and circumstance,
That which they are and not.
The blurry lines of outline
Even drawn right at their spot.

Got any Change?

I thought he was ready for the metamorphosis.
Eager to work was I.
He reiterated in response to the initial product.
He used his "clarify" where I heard "justify."
Different ways of labeling the same thing.
He wanted to explain his position.
"You need to know where I am coming from" he insisted.
I wanted us to understand the relationship between ourselves and our thoughts.
I wanted us to understand the origin of ideas.
I wanted us to understand root causes.
How that could be interpreted as contrary to any position I do not understand.
It's just a different perspective. It couldn't hurt to try it.
I needed an open mind.
Discouraged thoughts at the office.

I felt she was ready for the metamorphosis.
Eager to play was I.
She passed quick judgment on the first act.
She used her "I didn't like it" where I heard "I couldn't make sense of it."
Different ways of expressing the same thing.
She felt no need to explain her negativity.
"I know what I like" she insisted.
I wanted us to experience the relationship between ourselves and our feelings.
I wanted us to experience the origin of emotions.
I wanted us to experience root causes.
How that could be negatively felt by anyone I do not understand.
It's just a different perspective. It couldn't hurt to try it.
I needed an open heart.
Discouraged feelings at the theatre.

Continual Redefinition

The problem wasn't who you used to be and the solution isn't who you are. The problem was the rigidity of who you were and the solution is the ability to change continuously. Unless you are constantly part of the solution you will remain part of the problem. Progress is not something you went through already, it is something that should always be happening. Acceptance of who you are is important but not if it acts as blinders that hinder the understanding of who you are. Awareness without action is the way of the innocent bystander. Take responsibility for your piece of this broken world and maintain a daily repair budget. Please.

Compulsive Impulsive

I often feel like that stupid fish who keeps getting caught with the same flashy lure. And I keep blaming the fisherman. If he would just stop fishing with that flashy lure than I wouldn't get caught. Why does he have to fish with that flashy lure. Why does that lure have to be so flashy. My compulsion to go after that lure is taken as a foregone conclusion. I don't have to go after that lure. I can just observe it. "Hey, there's that flashy lure I like to chase after, hmmm, that sure is a strong desire welling up in me to go after it, wow, that desire is going away, would you believe it, that desire is gone." Perhaps I could write a book to tell the other fish about the trauma of the flashy lure fisherman cycle. There is a way out, or so I've heard.

Mirror Mirror

I'm having trouble talking to my sister these days. She is like a mirror of myself in many ways that reflects some of the attributes I have started to understand and am working on overcoming. It's the same with my whole family. I see in them some of my worst qualities and I can't help but react to them. I'm a hypocrite. The one I have the easiest time talking to is my 96 year old grandmother who is dying of cancer. I have recently become aware of my desire to be respected, to have my opinion valued, to have people really listen to me. I feel that from my grandmother. Perhaps it is related to the fact that I give that respect to her in the first place. I don't always feel it from the rest of them. I don't always give it to them either. Unconditional love is hard. Life is hard. I am aware that I do not fully understand some of the things I try to explain. I hope that in trying to express them I will understand them a little better. I wish that anyone who listens would help the process rather than hinder it. Communication is an iterative process where requests for clairification are more productive than statements of contradiction. Fighting against the misinterpretations of what has already been said takes away from the expression of the idea itself. I'm not going to learn much if I keep letting myself get the better of myself.

Impartiality

I'm addicted to misery. Addiction is a strange concept. It is an awknowledgement that we are not in control of ourselves. We use it as a term to describe an exception to the rule whereas in truth it is the rule. In reality addiction is simply the failure of our capability to maintain the illusion of self control. It is not the control that fails, it is the illusion. We put a significant amout of our resources into the illusion, so much so that our true purpose is severly downgraded. We are here to facilitate learning. We are here to observe and understand the present so as to make better the future. We are here to help guide the construction of our future selves. What I'm really addicted to is the illusion that my mind is the master of itself. In reality it is just the master of my misery. That my friends is the hardest thing I have ever tried to wrap my little head around.

Symbionese Rosebud

Through some tangential meanderings about the web I discovered that I share my birth date with an incident involving the Symbionese Liberation Army; a robbery of the Crocker National Bank in Carmichael, California that resulted in the death of Myrna Opsahl. This lead me to the particulars of one Patricia Hearst who at the time was going by the name Tania. This made me think of the computer military strategy game Command and Conquer Red Alert that I found myself playing quite frequently back in my carefree days of higher education. The Soviet side had this character named Tania who was a skilled marksman who was also capable of planting explosives in enemy buildings. I always wondered what significance the name Tania held. I think I may have figured it out. So this also led me to be reminded that William Randolph Hearst may have been instrumental in publicizing and orchestrating a 1937 oil-and-timber-industry-led media campaign to discredit hemp and marijuana which led to both the drug and plant being outlawed within months. I was also reminded of Citizen Kane.

The extreme measures people will undertake in the name of what they believe are a great hypocrisy. Anger does not cure madness. Misinformation does not cure ignorance. Fear does not lead to harmony. Obedience does not imply respect. The hearts of men cannot be purchased or coerced. Goodness is not equivalent to the propagation of your own truth or the destruction of another's truth. Goodness is the constant seeking out of new truth, the constant reevaluation of that in which you believe, and the awareness and willingness to feel and selectively follow your instincts.

Doors of Perception

There has been a convergence of sorts. Jim Morrison, Aldus Huxley, and myself. Coincidence? Awareness selected for me? Unfinished business? Ripe fruit? Don't mind me, I haven't even opened pandora's yellow mega-block yet. I think I am lonely for old friends today. All of them. Shall I put my spurs back on and ride this storm? Can I open all the doors to my dome at once? Wundaful!

A Buckminster Triolet

Our geodesic domes of form
We build to make discrete the waves;
A dual light and matter storm.
Our geodesic domes of form.
Finite fractaling is the norm;
The status quo of tyrant slaves.
Our geodesic domes of form
We build to make discrete the waves.

Mystic Lava Flow

Yesterday at the warehouse I was strangely compelled to go to my aisle and survey my belongings. I was reminded of this time last year when I was going through everything I owned to do an audit of sorts and to repackage anything that might have been thrown together too hastily when I moved out of New Hampshire. I was preparing to move to California. Well yesterday for some reason I picked up one of my boxes and read the label on the one below. It said "bedside table lamp and lava lamp." I had been thinking about the lava lamp and that I should give it to my brother so I unpacked it and brought it home. I tossed my backpack in my room as always and wouldn't usually have touched it again until the morning when I would be packing it with my lunch and supply of water for the day. For some reason after dinner I was again mysteriously compelled, this time to empty out my bag and replenish my supply of snacking nuts. I discovered the lamp and brought it up to my brother who told me that he had always wanted a lava lamp. He plugged in the lamp and returned to the basement with me to hang out. He sat on my bed asking me questions about anything and everything while I sorted through a pile of stuff to file. I think we both needed that conversation. I sometimes wonder about the incomprehensible forces that guide us through life. When you stop fighting against them good stuff tends to happen. Or perhaps I should say the the good stuff is simply the absence of fighting against nature. I wont use the "G" word as that carries with it way too much bagage. It's just a word anyways. A word to describe that incomprehensible thing of which we find ourselves an integral part. Thanks for the lamp Bruno, it was a seed that, like its blob of solidified lava-like substance, has awoken from its static slumber and now emits a dynamic light akin to the dance of life itself.

Demolition or Reconstruction

Well, the greatest single example of "fakery for the sake of how it looks" in my life has been unveiled. The facade of my father's relationship with my step-mother is being broken down. There is talk that if the quote for renovation is too high the building may be left in its dismantled state. There was a time in my life when that was exactly what I wanted. I just wanted her to go away. I see things differently today. If one man and one woman cannot work out their differences then what hope is there for all of humanity pulling it off? I explained to them my theory that what they were unable to work out between them would be left for their kids to either work out or again burden their own children with. I finally started to talk to my dad about some of the stuff I have been meaning to talk to him about. I'm just trying to help by sharing my understanding of my feelings over the past thirteen years. Who knows where this is all going.

Poetry Day

Yesterday was Poetry Day. What a day it was. Historically my listening skills have been closely coupled with my intellect. An engineering lecture requires constant conscious integration of new information structures with those you are already familiar with. I used to try to do the same with poetry. "Oh that makes sense, oh I see the pattern there, oh that image/metaphor/allegory describes/alludes to/demonstrates this or that fundamental truth." As soon as you start thinking about the poetry while you are listening to the poetry you cease to be truly listening. Yesterday I used recently acquired skills to allow myself to do a lot more true listening. My intellect was focused on observing my response. I was moved. Waves of emotion danced over my body as I simply listened to spoken words. Given, those words were intricately crafted, charged with icon shattering potential, capable of melting down the dye forms of language itself. I will attempt to quote Nah-ee-lah and say "I do not live in abstraction." Well I am trying to remain aware of that fact; constantly reminding myself of the limitations of my own thought. I met John Sobol and Fortner Anderson. I experienced a "Master Class" given by Anne Waldman. I listened to archived recordings of Alan Ginsburg. I relaxed and absorbed the ambiance at Casa del Popolo. I walked the frigid streets of Montreal. I slurped veg-pho in China town. I felt ever so briefly part of something bigger. I shared myself with a stranger and touched her life. I allowed my life to be touched. I thrice answered the question "Are you a poet?" incorrectly. We are all poets. Time to begin my work of disembodied engineering. Find it, know it, be it.

Festival Voix d'Amériques

Monday, February 16, 2004: Festival Voix d'Amériques

The Kingdom of Truth

"...we have to stumble through so much dirt and humbug before we reach home. And we have no one to guide us. Our only guide is our homesickness." - Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf

Trust Me

I'm tired of explaining myself to people who have stopped listening and are content with the image they have generated from what I have already said. I'm supposed to pity them rather than react to this behavior. I still feel that need to keep explaining, keep justifying, keep trying to make them understand. I think that's just me trying to explain and justify things to myself. I'm still trying to understand myself rather than being myself. I should be laughing but it still seems like such serious business. It's not. I want people to believe that I know what I'm doing. I don't, I just trust that I do. That is how I need to explain things, no matter how aggravated some people get when I do.

Ancestral Karma

Unresolved conflict. I have realized that I am dealing with a pile of it, a big stinking pile. The crappy thing about it is that I inherited a bunch of it. Stuff my parents/step parents were unable to work out between them in the outside world lives on within me as internal conflict. Stuff my parents were unable to work out with their parents, with their siblings, with the universe, and with themselves I have inherited. I'm not complaining, I love a good challenge. It just makes it difficult to not hold a grudge and to keep the focus within. I'm hoping that I can share my internal victories with them and others to help with their own battles. If you think you don't have any unresolved conflict of your own then you better get back to delusion land, your rose coloured glasses will interfere with your ability to understand what is being discussed here.

Return of Lucidity?

I woke up this morning, meditated, had breakfast, then went back to sleep. I had a lot of dreams. They were all the semi-lucid type where part of me knew I was dreaming and was analyzing the dream process. Part of me was watching it all happen amazed at the detail of each moment but also aware of the fragmentary nature of the experience.

The only one that I can consciously remember involved a very large slightly inclined cliff of skull sized black piled stones at the edge of a body of water. I could see people swimming in the water, some at extreme depths. I wanted to go in the water but feared the idea of diving or jumping from the top of the cliff. I slowly climbed down the steep and precarious piled wall of stones until I reached the edge of the water. There I noticed a door which I assumed might be some sort of shortcut to the top. I decided not to go in the water but instead began to think about getting back to the top of the cliff. Looking up the piled stones looked insurmountable. I was concerned about the whole thing coming down on me. I felt my way carefully and found that some of the stones were solidly anchored and could support my entire body weight hanging from them. I became very confident of my grip and slowly began pulling myself up the cliff, all the while being very selective of which stones to hold on to. It seemed that the solidly anchored stones became readily apparent and almost lit up indicating a pathway to the top. I intentionally knocked one of the non-solid stones loose and without watching it fall waited for the sound of it landing in the water. The lucid dreamer side of me was particularly eager to judge the quality of the splash sound. It was exactly as expected and as real as could be imagined. I then decided that I should be very near to the top, and so I was. I then became very aware of the dream, changed positions, and slid into another.

I don't know what it means that I am often aware that I am dreaming. The meditation course I took had me thinking about my lucid dreams. It had been a long time since I had experienced one without the awareness triggering waking up or at least the end of that particular dream. Meditation is like lucid dreaming; they both require a balance in the mind. If I am dreaming and aware of that dreaming I must not let the awareness disrupt the dream or it will all fall apart. Recently I think my sleep has been disturbed by waking up due to dream state recognition. Perhaps this signifies the turning of the dream tide from disruption back to construction. Perhaps I no longer fear what my natural inner reality has to say.

A Walk in the Arboretum

Recursive algorithms are useful for traversing the hierarchy of a tree data structure. Starting from the base node a subroutine can continuously call itself with the children of that node as arguments until it reaches the desired depth or node of the tree. Nodes encountered without children are known as a leaf nodes. It is at the leaf nodes that growth occurs. It is at the leaf nodes that we define the frontier of the collection. It is the leaf nodes that contain all the relevant data, the other nodes exist solely as a means to organize and systematically access them. When was the last time that your leaf nodes were accessed? How deep have you allowed the recursion to go? Are you only working with the organization and access system or are you pushing out the frontier? Every leaf node is a potential parent. Some people focus on building a tree in their minds while others believe that the tree already exists and patiently waits to be traversed. As usual the truth is probably some balance between the two.

Serenity Now!

The problem with human life is exponential growth. We react to something, then react to those reactions, then we react to those reactions to the original reaction, and so on, and so on and so on. This applies to both elation and depression. Our mind is an amplifier fed back upon itself. So instead of connecting our minds exclusively to the reaction and outputing a new reaction we need to include a new input, our current state of equilibrium. Only then can we experience that our negative output is the cause of our negative input. Only then can we begin to understand our negative behavior patterns. Only then can we say that we know ourselves.

Experiential Wisdom

It is not about elimination, it is about experiencing and observing without reacting. Only without reaction can you begin your understanding. Every element of life is impermanent, but our human abstractions limit our perception of that impermanence. New abstractions will not give understanding, they are the source of our ignorance. Understanding comes from experience. Understanding comes from pushing the limits of our sphere of perception with eyes wide. Understanding exists within us waiting to be found. Calm awareness, detached observation, equanimous supervision, attentive nurturing. I see and feel that the ringing has been dampened. Convergence has begun.

Three Strikes

Craving, aversion and ignorance; can they be eliminated? I want to know, I can't tollerate people who don't want to know, and I don't know how to know.

Fork in my Path

Was happy to hear that the Vipassana Meditation Center will be more than capable of catering to my self imposed culinary restrictions. I leave tomorrow. I had a bit of a rough day of dwelling on a few negative issues yesterday. My sister called last night and she was pretty miserable too. It was good to chat. I am very curious to experience the rest of this month. You know how it is when you are heading into a brand new experience, when your powers of prediction and anticipation become inadequate, when each step forward treads on a personally unbeaten path? That sounds like living to me.

Mr. Smarty Pants

Do I need to talk about what happens when we assume? I catch myself doing it all the time. I'm trying not to let it bother me when other people make assumptions about me. When they try to complete my sentences, when they say "yea, yea, yea," when they react to their interpretation of what I say or do believing that they know exactly what I meant or why I did it. It gets tiring dealing with someone who isn't listening to you but is rather listening to themselves listen to you. I try to verify my interpretations. I try to ask questions first. I try not to state my interpretation as fact. It seems to me...It sounds like you are saying...As far as I can tell...Do you mean...Are you talking about...Is that like... Prematurely formed impressions are hard to change afterwards. Don't set the mold until you have seen the subject from all sides. Keep your opinion open and on the table. The trouble with language is that it is an abstraction of reality. It is lossy communication, simplified classification, and the illusion of true understanding. A poor communication channel requires sending the message multiple times, sending the message multiple ways, or a very structured message format and communication context that allows for error checking. The message is not your words, the message is a piece of you, the words are just how you are trying to send it. Good science allows that any new data point may support or contradict the current reigning hypothesis and may help lead to the next hypothesis. True understanding of another perspective is impossible, the best we can do is to try to get as close to it as we can. Don't be an arse Mr. Smarty Pants and I'll do my best to avoid being one too.

Balancing our Humours

Laughter. Humour. Taking everything too seriously. Not taking things seriously enough. The absurdity of life. I'm absurd. You're absurd. We're all absurd. Where do we draw the lines between that which is praiseworthy, that which is funny, and that which is reprehensible? Where do we draw the lines between tears of joy, tears of laughter, and tears of sadness? Under what conditions do we stand up, fall down, or roll over? If it isn't how we think it should be shall we curse it and get out or laugh at it and climb in? If it is how we think it should be shall we follow it with praise or find a new reason to laugh? How shall we respond when joy turns into pride or sadness turns into anger? An eye for an eye only increases the polarization. Laughter brings it back together. Laughter disarms. Lets try not to take everything so seriously, except for the serious stuff of course.

The Human Asymptote

That was fun. I don't usually think in Freudian metaphors, I tend to like to come up with my own. Other people's thought structures can be helpful but can also be limiting. I talk in discrete elements but I think in continuous flows. If I slice the world in as many ways as possible, each time into a variety of discrete elements, over time the resulting collage of dissections will approach an image of a continuous flow. The asymptote of the humanity function.

Freudian Slip on the Ice

I realized that I feel like a child in my father's presence. We haven't moved the relationship completely over to an adult relationship. I still submit to him almost completely. I don't always speak up when I disagree with him. I am overly concerned about what he will think about my workmanship, my choices, my life. I've somehow returned to the psychological age of thirteen.

When I was three my parents divorced and my mom left the home. I believe this resulted in the stifling of my Id development. The whole split up process probably started before I was three so perhaps I was fixated at various stages. Oral, anal, and phallic stage fixation resulting from both frustration and overindulgence all seem to carry symptoms that ring true in me.

I then built my Superego up in my father's image mostly rejecting the value system of my mother. At thirteen my fathers choices regarding mate selection, job selection, and behavior tolerance went against my image of his values and thus my Superego development was cut off from his guidance.

So my Ego continued on with a three year old Id who sucked on bottles and cigarettes like they were thumbs and a thirteen year old Superego who believed his concepts of right and wrong were the be all and end all of morality. My Ego also had to deal with an overbearing step-mother which only helped to school himself in the techniques of Ego defense, particularly denial, intellectualization, rationalization, repression, and finally regression.

Thirteen years later the setup failed so I transferred power to a dormant Superego based on my mother's system of morality and removed power from my Id altogether. That failed resulting in a return to hedonistic "thumb" sucking.

I am currently allowing both Superego systems to merge into one and grow on its own. The resultant system is proving to posses the best of both of my parents and elements not present in either.

I am also working on developing a relationship with my mature Id to understand my needs. It has involved gradual elimination of inputs in order to determine the essentials. There is a fair amount of healing time required in this process to make up for the past.

So this is why I feel like I am thirteen and three yet neither. I feel like I am finally going to begin evolving beyond my parents value systems and interpreting my emotions and bodily urges. Hopefully once my Id and Superego have matured sufficiently to reassume their responsibilities my Ego can offload his extra baggage and get back to his true purpose; maintaining the equilibrium.

-40 C = -40 F

I just had my first coffee in several weeks so please forgive me.

I have been away at my father's cottage/country house/log cabin/chalet/whatever. He got a call from the heating oil people who said that they had put over 800 liters of fuel into the tank and due to the high volume they were concerned that it may have been empty. Well, when a oil furnace runs a tank dry you can't just start it up again once the tank is full. You need to prime the thing to get whatever water/sludge/whodidthis out of the lines first.

The drive up was good. We got to talk about some stuff that we wouldn't have talked about otherwise. Enough said.

So we got up there and the furnace was off. The whole house was in a deep freeze. If you live in the north east then you have an idea as to how freaking cold it has been. Well, lets just say that the temperature hit -40 (that's the same in Celsius and Fahrenheit if you were wondering) just before the sun came up on Thursday morning. We turned on these little baseboard heaters, some portable heaters, and the oven.

My father, the eternal idealist, was certain that this was going to be an in and out job. We had headed up from the city straight from the office without picking up anything from home. The technician he called didn't show up so at some point my father and I decided we would stay the night. He hadn't let me start a fire up until that point because he didn't want to have to leave the flu open when we left. So I started a fire. With all our heaters, the stove, and the fire I think the main room we were in got up to somewhere between 50 and 60 depending how close to the floor you were. My dad slept on the couch and I slept next to the fire. I guess it was more of a deep "I wish it was warmer so I could sleep" meditation. I really wish I had brought my sleeping bag.

So the next morning we did a closer inspection of the water system and discovered that the well pump and pressure tank were cracked, several of the copper pipes had separated at their joints, and one of the toilet tanks had fractured. Things were just beginning to thaw and we did what was necessary to avoid a watery mess.

It all seemed like a big deal to me, like something that would require professionals to fix, an insurmountable challenge even for two intelligent Engineers (although I often don't feel deserving of that title when standing next to my father). My dad just started taking note of all the problems. I helped and followed pipes, located all the problems that I could see. Then he stood in front of the pump and thought, thought and thought some more. He made a little list and headed off to the hardware store. While he was gone I used a little pipe cutter tool to remove the old hardware and then hauled the newly minted junk out back.

He came back with a new pump and pressure tank, plastic pipe and joints, metal joint clamps, copper pipes and joints, and a propane torch. Anyways, the technician never showed at all and we needed to get back to the city to unload a container of heaters today. We packed up and left but not before mostly connecting up the new pump and pressure tank. All that is left is the copper pipe work out of the pump and the repairs to the severed joints around the house.

So my dad knows his shit. I remembered that he built a house once. He didn't just have a house built, he was directly involved in every aspect of its construction. His brain and body are no more capable than mine, he just has a pile more experience behind his than I do. He believes in himself the way I used to when I was young. No conceit, no pride, just quiet confidence.

Working with him reminded me of a few things. I was reminded that I am an Engineer. That has less to do with my degree or my work experience than with my desire and capability to understand how the world works and how to make it better. The first portion of my life was focused on the how it works side but my recent discoveries have me thinking about the how to make it better part. I don't need to change my weapon, I just need to work on my aim.

I was also reminded that big hard problems need to be broken down into little easy problems in order to get them fixed. Its that whole forest and the trees thing I mentioned here except I was talking about a much bigger forest of a problem.

I also realized that I feel like a child again in his presence. I will elaborate on this in the following post using some Freudian metaphors.

I know my Dad is not the vision of perfection of my early childhood or the ineffectual puppet of my adolescence. My helping of affection from him may not have supplied me sufficient nourishment to make up for the lack of a mother in the house but the respect he served to me, and everyone and everything he came across, provided me more than enough sustenance to keep my heart alive through many a cold cold night. Love comes in many textures and flavours; not always the ones you asked for, but tasty and pleasing to the palate nonetheless.

Who's Really Running Your Life?

I thought this was interesting.

How did we get to the Glue Factory?

My parents were divorced when I was very young. There were some strange circumstances involved that led to me witnessing some strange behavior. I don't know how it affected me. I have only been able to imagine that it would have a bad effect. I remember throughout my childhood being very aware of myself. Overly aware. I picked my actions and words very carefuly. Everything in life was a game of strategy, who to talk to, what to say, who to be. I didn't know who I was. All I knew was that I was good at things. I was athletic, intelligent, and creative. I had a strong sense of empathy to the point of being completely selfless. I always felt like I was different. I always hated myself for not being how everyone else seemed. Girls used to tell me that I was stiff and walked like a robot. I feared saying hello to someone and getting a "why are you talking to me" look in return. I feared responding to someone who seemed to be talking to me because they might just be talking to someone behind me. I always had a crush on someone but never had the guts to do something about it. There were often girls who were interested in me that I was not willing to even entertain as friends. I didn't allow myself to have any feelings of my own, only those of other people. Sometimes I talked to my sister about these things but rarely. My Father was cold. My mother didn't live with us. I saw her once a week and with that setup it is hard to get past superficial stuff, especially when the wall you were hiding behind was built to deal with the fact that you didn't have a normal family. Once I realized that my family situation was different from many other peoples I used it to build my ego. I was tough. I could handle things. Nothing phased me. I became my father. That is how he dealt with it so that is how I dealt with it. I had a fast horse so I rode him fast, didn't think too much about where we were going. So here I am. The horse is tired and sick and I'm not sure where we are. I know he is getting better and will get us back to our path.

The Mind of a CrowMagnum Man

The adds at the top of this page make me think of this episode of The Mind of the Married Man on HBO where the lead was annoyed that his TIVO thought he was gay. I hope anyone reading gets as good a laugh out of them as I do. I think about trying to steer them every now and again for kicks but then I think that might take me away from my real goal here: CrowMagnumism (Revolve + Devolve -> Evolve).

Ginkgo biloba by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Learning to Help

No one has the answers, we are all just making the best with what we have. That being said, we still have a tendency to approach situations as if we already have the answers. We see situations, recognize patterns and come up with courses of action. We sometimes forget that the course of action is a guideline developed from our experience that will require modification to fit the current situation. We also impose this phenomenon on others in our advice. We project ourselves into their lives, make assumptions, recognize patterns, and come up with courses of action. Then we have the gall to give that advice as an imperative. We refuse to admit that our own advice to ourselves is often filled with bad judgment yet we are quite content to continue advising everyone else. The best advice helps the other person make their own choice and reminds them that making the wrong choice is not the end of the world. Helping is learning, not teaching.

Ode to the Third Port

So trying to use the built in self diagnosis and repair system on the built in self diagnosis and repair system itself can cause latchup. Think microphone listening to its speaker. You have an exponential positive feedback problem. So how do we get around this? Well, not connecting the input directly to the output but rather to a point some distance away from the output so as to keep the gain of the system below unity might help. The signal at that point will be out of phase from the actual output and will result in resonance. If we can observe this resonance without disconnecting the self diagnosis and repair system loop we have created than we may be able to diagnose and repair the system itself. This requires some sort of third system port. Steping outside of yourself to tweak the mixture, calibrate the machine, or tighten that loose screw without stopping the machine. You have to be in two places at once. Biofeedback just outside of the source of self. The CEO isn't going to buy this as being an ode. Newbie.

Inner Management

If my mind is responsible for certain things than it must be managed. Well managed of course. I can't just let it run wild. If there is time where my body does not need the services of my conscious mind than I should either rest it or put it to good use. Random use achieves neither rest nor goodness and has a tendency to distract the body from its own work, rest, or play. Once you set the mind free from the shackles of external expectation you find that you have a raging bull on your hands. Taming the beast requires the use of ancient yet poorly understood reins. The Vulcan nerve pinch would be handy every now and again. Perhaps the skills of a snake charmer. The CEO just issued a memo: All pondering on the meaning of life, humanity, and self are hereby postponed indefinitely for the enjoyment of life as we know it. Dance, song, and ode will be the only forms of communication permitted. Please do not sneak back to your computer during bathroom breaks or your participation level in the festivities will be reset to newbie.

The Boundary of Chaos

Becoming more than you are. Learning how to learn while learning. Learning how to teach while teaching. Learning how to be while being. Mother Nature asked me if I was with her or against her. I watched this show on PBS about the discovery of the DNA double helix. If understanding were all we were up to I might feel alright about it. It's the manipulation I have issues with. People argue that we shouldn't play god. Mankind has been playing god for a long time, genetics is just a new divine appendage. I used to love to argue with the religious that God is just a creation of mankind to explain all the things that we can't explain. A word to abstract away the infinite complexities of the universe. We can push the boundaries of human knowledge forever, but the boundary will always exist. Did I already mention the infinite complexities? The thing that troubles me is that our actions impact both sides of the boundary. We'll be able to discover and fix today's mistakes with tomorrows developments, right? Sounds like a temporal pyramid scam to me. Entropy taking life on a U-Turn. Don't flap your wings too hard little butterfly.

With a Little Help From My Friends

My night time processing woke me up with a few lyrics in my head. It was probably the Joe Cocker version (I was a big Wonder Years fan as a child) but I include the Beatles lyrics below. I think my last post brought this out. I think it helps answer that question: If I am not my models, if I am not my comparisons, if I am not in control then what am I? (A friend). (My best friend).

What would you think if I sang outa tune,
Would you stand up and walk out on me.
Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song,
And I’ll try not to sing out of key.
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends,
Mmm I get high with a little help from my friends,
Mmm gonna try with a little help from my friends.
What do I do when my love is away.
(does it worry you to be alone)
How do I feel by the end of the day
(are you sad because you’re on your own)
No I get by with a little help from my friends,
Mmm get high with a little help from my friends,
Mmm gonna try with a little help from my friends.
(Do you need anybody),
I need somebody to love.
(Could it be anybody)
I want somebody to love.
(Would you believe in a love at first sight),
Yes I’m certain that it happens all the time.
(What do you see when you turn out the light),
I can’t tell you, but I know it’s mine.
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends,
Mmm get high with a little help from my friends,
Oh I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends.
(Do you need anybody),
I just need someone to love,
(Could it be anybody),
I want somebody to love.
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends,
Mmm gonna try with a little help from my friends,
Oh I get high with a little help from my friends,
Yes I get by with a little help from my friends,
With a little help from my friends.

The Beatles

Free Evaluation Comparator

Lets think about that influence thing again. What is it? How do I influence this world. Do I make things happen? If so how? Does my body do as I tell it to or does it react to my evaluation of it not doing what I want it to. This is that little feedback theory of mine rearing its cute little head again. Free will seems to defy the laws of physics but free evaluation seems to be quite consistent.

So lets assume that is the way it is. The entity that I call my conscious self is a complex comparator which has at its disposal a number of very complicated models of the universe, of other people, and of myself gradually built up over the course of a lifetime. The models are built up from our experiences and from the people we have known. With these models it can remember the past and predict and plan the future. These models when compared with actuality generate feedback that results in a disequilibrium. The body naturally moves to reestablish equilibrium. The comparator can also be run between memories and idealized models of the past for learning purposes. More feedback disequilibrium. It can also be run between plans and predictions, memories and plans, predictions and memories, and any of them to an ideal.

So to reestablish equilibrium something has to change. The body must move, the world must be moved, models must change, goals must shift, plans must reevaluate, memories must modify, or if all else fails the comparator itself must change. This makes me think of self testing integrated circuits. One difficulty in their implementation is the testing of the self test circuitry itself. I digress.

This seems to be a very useful arrangement similar to teacher and pupil, parent and child, or mentor and protege. At some point the learner must be trusted to learn on his own and be set free to possibly exceed the capabilities of the teacher. Do you trust yourself?

So teaching should be about teaching how to learn, not how to listen. Teaching how to listen is only taught by teachers who are afraid of becoming obsolete. They might just find that their pupils stop listening. Someone who does not listen and cannot learn is an ugly sight indeed. Teaching how to learn requires a gradual weaning to the point where in the end the teacher will say nothing at all.

So back to influence. My influence on myself is via evaluations. My evaluations should be respectful and evolve with time similar to those in a healthy parent-child relationship. The comparator itself and how it is used should be open for the possibility of change.

Remember that your evaluation process also has a lasting influence on the evaluation process of other living things. Just as your models and comparison system were and are built up from your experiences in this world so are theirs partially built up of their experiences of you. Respect that fact. It is a responsibility not to be taken lightly (which ironically is also a reminder to not be so serious). Encourage the ability to learn, in yourself and others, through good (in the platonic sense) evaluations. Share your learning process with the world, don't hide it. Present the real fallible you, not the fake perfect version you hold so dear.

So this seems to be saying that I need to let go of the reins. Gradually of course. In the end what will be left for me? If I am not my models, if I am not my comparisons, if I am not in control then what am I? How about an input to the comparator that represents the good, available when needed. Sounds like a fine place for some rest to me.

Natural Influence

Imagine yourself as the caretaker of a piece of the universe. The piece you are responsible for does not have a well defined boundary. It is better not to define it with a boundary at all but rather with a dynamic distribution of influence. The influence is high (but not absolute) at the space-time coordinates of your physical body and low (but never naught) at great distances in space or time. It is your responsibility to observe, evaluate, and feedback your analysis to the system while being a part of the system. Are we to focus on our power associated with the strength of our influence or our responsibility for the quality of our evaluations? It seems to me that influence naturally follows quality, and not vice versa, so lets keep things natural.

Responsible Ownership

I think we should abandon the concept of ownership and move things over to a system based on responsibility. It seems like it would be an easy switch in the English language. I am responsible for that piece of land. Ownership relationships are based on selfish independence. Responsibility relationships combine the independence with accountability. They are based on earned trust. The best place to make the switch is with yourself: stop thinking of yourself as the owner of your body and rather think of yourself as being responsible for its wellbeing (which is greater than your wellbeing I might add). Pushing things forward to feeling responsible for the natural system that your body is a part of will then be a simple step.

True North

Been away in the North enjoying clean air, clean water, and a little exercise at play with the extended family. It was nice to have long moments of fun where I was not thinking about too much other than the fun itself. There was still a lot of thinking though. I can't help myself :) My family helps me remember what is important in life. I still try to get inside of all our heads to figure out why we say or do certain things but because we are family, real family, I find myself able to take things less seriously. The longer you spend with people that you care about and who care about you, the easier it is to laugh together. You forget about how absurd the surface of everything looks and remember that what is underneath is much more important. Only patience and genuineness can get you there. I built, I helped, I cooked, I cleaned, I taught, I learned, I shared, I sang, I danced, I played, I listened, I rested. I gave and I received without maintaining a balance sheet of unmeasurable and uncomparable quantities. I played my part.

Kiss of Life

I read this thing yesterday here and noticed a nice little analogy: "trying to speak about reality is like trying to send a kiss by a messenger." We are all a little too focused on the messenger to the point of forgetting why he is calling in the first place.

Continuous Marvel

Maybe letting go is more about not grabbing hold in the first place. Nothing is constant within us unless we continuously chose it. Being is not continuous choice. Being is not habit. Being is continuous trust, continuous forgiveness, continuous acceptance, continuous novelty, continuous love. I focus too often here on what it is not to live. I judge, I hate, I self inflate, I lament, I tire of it all. Enough deconstruction, it is time to build anew. The neurons have finally dislodged their tired old asynchronous connections and are itching to make some new ones guided by a marvelous little force I call life.