I came home for the second day in a row to find that there are no parking spots in my parking lot. There are 8 apartments in this complex and 18 parking spots. I realize that some of these apartments house 2, maybe 3 people (or, hell, 5 - as when I lived with Greg and the boys), and that 1 car households are a thing of the past, but seriously? 18 parking spots. All filled. Or, rather, 16 or 17 filled and a couple of morons who couldn't park parallel to the lines if held at gun point. Anyway, I kinda lost it. Not publicly, but in my mind as usual. I just finished watching The Machinist, and for some reason, I think the film left me in a weird mood. Bleak landscapes and themes of neurosis and isolation, I suppose.
Anyway, various frustrations have been building for me for the past few months, and it feels like it's all coming to a boil. In a post on Facebook, I described the sensation as "walls of idiocy closing in on me - suffocating me". Life can be pretty roller-coastery. Sometimes it's a whip-lash inducing wooden ride that leaves you feeling bruised. Other times it's a death defying, fancy new ride that throws you for a lot of loops and dives. Other times it's a pretty tame, fun kiddie ride that's totally manageable. Hell, sometimes you're just sitting there for what feels like forever just waiting for the ride to start while some kid in the back's holding the whole shit up screaming, wanting to get out. Frequently, I can feel the tension building before it actually boils over, like the slow, upward clicking of the ride just before the fall. I know I've gotten myself into trouble and am just wondering whether it's too late to get my money back. Fortunately, the more rides I venture to endure, the better I get at stomaching the turns. I'm not quite at the point where I can carelessly throw my hands up and squeal with glee, but I'm also no longer the kid in the back frantically screaming to get off.
Rumi suggests that we have to recognize that we are already "living within the ocean", so there's no point in struggling to stay above the surface. The fact is, I'm on the ride. I won't be done until my last breath releases that big, metal harness from my shoulders and waste (please excuse the ridiculous extension of this metaphor). I can choose to panic; I can choose to feel stuck; I can also choose to accept my reality, throw my hands up and trust the ride. What's the worst I can encounter? Death? Well, yeah, that's an inevitable part of this ride - one of many parts over which I have no control.
After flipping my internal lid over having to park in the street yet again, I jotted down a list of my recent frustrations. I figured I could manage them better if I actually saw them on paper. I immediately marked off the ones I could clearly do nothing about or that needn't necessarily even concern me personally. That only rid me of a couple. I also immediately recognized that they were all external issues, except the final one: I feel stuck. So how does one go about "unslumping" oneself, as Dr. Seuss says? I took another look at the list and realized, with a little shift in perspective, that none of them need cause me much grief. You see, I have a tendency to give myself a heart attack over the behavior of others - other drivers, pedestrians, students, the entire department that employs me, etc. I think because I am forced to interact with these people on a daily basis, I cannot avoid being affected my their idiocy, inefficiency or intolerance. It may seem obvious that this is not the case, but when mindlessly running on automatic pilot, that reality never occurs to me. My immediate response to the idea of "acceptance" is that I am allowing such travesties to perpetuate. I am passively resigning to them and refusing to fight for what is good and right. What I am overlooking, however, is that the behavior of others is not within my realm of control. I cannot force my students to give a shit about their education, about their minds, about their worth as human beings. I can try to inspire them, to set an example, but I cannot affect them without their consent. I cannot force other drivers on the road to be more mindful, courteous and safe, nor can I force them to live their off-road lives in the same way.
In a nutshell, my default perception seems to be that "idiots shouldn't exist", "impediments shouldn't exist", "if everyone were more gracious and graceful, giving a shit about themselves and each other, communism wouldn't have failed". Apparently, I didn't lose all sense of idealism after the invasion of Iraq, as I thought I did. Somehow, it never occurs to me in these moments that the world is not now, nor ever was, comprised of brilliant, mindful communists with a high level of self-worth. Hell, if I don't fit this description, why should anyone else? The fact is, there are idiots in the world. Lots of them. There are lots of assholes, too. There are even some bigots and a sprinkling of sociopaths. That is the reality in which we all live. "Shoulds" are ultimately irrelevant. I am intrinsically aware of this. This is a realization I come to often. Yet I inevitably end up on that slow, clicking ascent toward doom wondering how I got here at least once a year, when all I have to do is see the ride for what it is, throw my hands up and trust my ability to take that fall with grace for my own sake and maybe even as a lesson for that screaming kid in the back.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
The Physiological versus the Spiritual Dimensions of Growth
A crazed soccer mom keyed my car today. I've never had my car keyed before, and it made me sad that it happened to my shiny new car instead of the dull old one. While discussing the incident with a friend, he made a rather insightful statement. He said, and I paraphrase, Just because someone looks like an adult doesn't mean he/she actually is one. This seems obvious, especially considering the circumstances, but I had never really thought about this concept deeply.
When I worked at Planned Parenthood, I would see tens of women a day - women of all different ages and backgrounds. Occasionally, I would see women whose outside age clearly did not match their inside age. And this goes beyond the all too common moronic 19-23-year-olds who simply haven't been paying attention for the past 19-23 years. I remember a 15-year-old of whom I was envious. She seemed so confident, self-assured and at ease with herself and the world around her. She knew all about her body and reproductive health - had it all covered. She was fully responsible for her functioning existence on this planet. I was awestruck. Then there was the occasional 40-year-old who didn't know how pregnancy and/or STDs worked, and worse, didn't care.
So anyway, my friend's comment made me think about what aging actually is. We live in a culture that is very physically ageist. Commercials and ads bombard our televisions and magazines with anti-aging creams and make-up. Even teeth-whitening products use age as a selling point...like my teeth weren't yellow when I was twelve! Of what are they trying to convince us? If we can stave off wrinkles, we can stave off death? All physical signs of aging reveal is that our bodies are wearing out, and eventually they will break down entirely never to restart. This is life. This is how it works.
But what of the spiritual dimension of aging? What does it mean to age spiritually? Buddhists, Hindus and various other world religions believe that spiritual aging, or rather development, occurs over the course of many lifetimes, not just one. The metaphors we use to discuss spiritual aging indicate an upward movement, a progression, a completion. We speak of development and of growth. When we speak of physical aging, metaphors imply a downward movement or decay. Thus it only makes sense that, if souls exist, they should ascend (to heaven, another life, nirvana, etc.) as our bodies are interred.
So what constitutes someone's actual age? The number of years they've been on the planet utilizing their current body? How many wrinkles they have on their face or age spots on their hands? Or is it what they've learned, whether they've been paying attention, whether they and the world around them have benefited from the lessons they've mastered? What happens when you meet a woman with a leathery complexion and "mom jeans" complete with a lower-abdominal pooch who says she's 27? What happens when you cross paths with a road-rager who stalks you through a parking lot, screaming at you out of her driver window, then keys your car as soon as you're out of sight for accidentally cutting her off due to her own poor driving skills?
When we think of words like "adult" or "grown-up", certain concepts accompany these terms. There is functional maturity: living on one's own, paying bills, mortgages, taking out life insurance policies, birthing smaller versions of oneself, buying a car, etc. Then there's emotional/intellectual maturity (or whatever you want to call it): understanding personal responsibility, learning how to maneuver gracefully through a world filled with lots of very different people, dealing gracefully with anger and frustration, learning what it really means to love, etc. The latter type of maturity is obviously much more challenging than the former. Some people, people who are perpetually taken care of by the men in their lives or by Mommy and Daddy, and then Mommy and Daddy's money when Mommy and Daddy die, never achieve either state of maturity. Many more people never achieve the latter. Can they be considered "adults"? "Grown-ups"? Some may say, if they walk like ducks and talk like ducks...But is this truly the case? Or are they just children in grown-up suits?
A friend and colleague of mine counts her students absent when they are physically in class but mentally elsewhere. If they are in their seats but texting their friends, sleeping or listening to their Ipods, they are counted absent...because, figuratively speaking, they are. So if a person has physically aged but remained figuratively absent his/her entire life, has this person truly lived, truly aged, truly grown up? We speak of legally mentally challenged individuals as having the brain of, say, a 6-year-old. But aren't there a lot of "adults" out there with the emotional maturity of a 6-year-old? My contention is that you are not only as old as you feel, but you are also as old as you act on a consistent basis. If you've been on the planet for 37 years and haven't learned a damn thing, you can hardly be called a 37-year-old. Nonetheless, since you have technically been on the planet for 37 years, you can and should be held accountable for those 37 years. Students who accumulate an outrageous number of absences, physically or figuratively, fail their classes. They are held accountable. A physical 37-year-old who is 4 on the inside should nevertheless be held accountable. And for some strange reason, I have faith that karma will do the trick.
When I worked at Planned Parenthood, I would see tens of women a day - women of all different ages and backgrounds. Occasionally, I would see women whose outside age clearly did not match their inside age. And this goes beyond the all too common moronic 19-23-year-olds who simply haven't been paying attention for the past 19-23 years. I remember a 15-year-old of whom I was envious. She seemed so confident, self-assured and at ease with herself and the world around her. She knew all about her body and reproductive health - had it all covered. She was fully responsible for her functioning existence on this planet. I was awestruck. Then there was the occasional 40-year-old who didn't know how pregnancy and/or STDs worked, and worse, didn't care.
So anyway, my friend's comment made me think about what aging actually is. We live in a culture that is very physically ageist. Commercials and ads bombard our televisions and magazines with anti-aging creams and make-up. Even teeth-whitening products use age as a selling point...like my teeth weren't yellow when I was twelve! Of what are they trying to convince us? If we can stave off wrinkles, we can stave off death? All physical signs of aging reveal is that our bodies are wearing out, and eventually they will break down entirely never to restart. This is life. This is how it works.
But what of the spiritual dimension of aging? What does it mean to age spiritually? Buddhists, Hindus and various other world religions believe that spiritual aging, or rather development, occurs over the course of many lifetimes, not just one. The metaphors we use to discuss spiritual aging indicate an upward movement, a progression, a completion. We speak of development and of growth. When we speak of physical aging, metaphors imply a downward movement or decay. Thus it only makes sense that, if souls exist, they should ascend (to heaven, another life, nirvana, etc.) as our bodies are interred.
So what constitutes someone's actual age? The number of years they've been on the planet utilizing their current body? How many wrinkles they have on their face or age spots on their hands? Or is it what they've learned, whether they've been paying attention, whether they and the world around them have benefited from the lessons they've mastered? What happens when you meet a woman with a leathery complexion and "mom jeans" complete with a lower-abdominal pooch who says she's 27? What happens when you cross paths with a road-rager who stalks you through a parking lot, screaming at you out of her driver window, then keys your car as soon as you're out of sight for accidentally cutting her off due to her own poor driving skills?
When we think of words like "adult" or "grown-up", certain concepts accompany these terms. There is functional maturity: living on one's own, paying bills, mortgages, taking out life insurance policies, birthing smaller versions of oneself, buying a car, etc. Then there's emotional/intellectual maturity (or whatever you want to call it): understanding personal responsibility, learning how to maneuver gracefully through a world filled with lots of very different people, dealing gracefully with anger and frustration, learning what it really means to love, etc. The latter type of maturity is obviously much more challenging than the former. Some people, people who are perpetually taken care of by the men in their lives or by Mommy and Daddy, and then Mommy and Daddy's money when Mommy and Daddy die, never achieve either state of maturity. Many more people never achieve the latter. Can they be considered "adults"? "Grown-ups"? Some may say, if they walk like ducks and talk like ducks...But is this truly the case? Or are they just children in grown-up suits?
A friend and colleague of mine counts her students absent when they are physically in class but mentally elsewhere. If they are in their seats but texting their friends, sleeping or listening to their Ipods, they are counted absent...because, figuratively speaking, they are. So if a person has physically aged but remained figuratively absent his/her entire life, has this person truly lived, truly aged, truly grown up? We speak of legally mentally challenged individuals as having the brain of, say, a 6-year-old. But aren't there a lot of "adults" out there with the emotional maturity of a 6-year-old? My contention is that you are not only as old as you feel, but you are also as old as you act on a consistent basis. If you've been on the planet for 37 years and haven't learned a damn thing, you can hardly be called a 37-year-old. Nonetheless, since you have technically been on the planet for 37 years, you can and should be held accountable for those 37 years. Students who accumulate an outrageous number of absences, physically or figuratively, fail their classes. They are held accountable. A physical 37-year-old who is 4 on the inside should nevertheless be held accountable. And for some strange reason, I have faith that karma will do the trick.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Dr. Seuss: Everyone's Favorite Liberal
So I get in the same globalization argument with my father every time I spend more than 5 or 6 days straight with him. This last time, at Christmas, it was about Walmart. Anyway, so I noticed something on a friend's post on Facebook that made me start thinking about this issue. This is a perfect example for my students about what should comprise an observation essay; note to self. It mentioned Egypt's independence from Great Britain. Obviously, I started thinking about colonization. The analogy I posted is that colonization/globalization is like me going over to a friend's place and telling her that her house is now mine. When she resists, I just cut off her water supply or destroy her indoor plumbing until she's forced to leave.
I think it's good to create analogies that suggest a microcosmic situation that mirrors common macrocosmic situations. It allows us to see the global world for what it really is, in terms that hit closer to home. It also allows us to reflect upon the ridiculous nature of global politics. Obviously, it's not funny on a practical level, but conceptually, I can't help but chuckle. Why on earth would such a microcosmic situation be utterly reprehensible, but the same situation on a global scale is perfectly fine and "business as usual"? It's like murder being morally reprehensible and illegal, but war being perfectly reasonable and even necessary in the name of "Freedom" (money, oil, other such resources gained, child labor, etc.). Of course, the reason no one questions this is the same reason many of my students can't write observation essays. As long as they have their Walmart-bought toys assembled in Taiwan by 7-year-old shoeless and malnourished children, what more is there to think about? It ain't their house being invaded. Then, I must admit my own hypocrisy. Walmart's not the only bad guy. Our entire culture is founded upon this globalized economy. Hell, this computer was probably built in Taiwan. Nonetheless, there's something to be said for awareness. It's a step.
Returning to the argument between my father and me, his stand - and I don't mind calling it an uneducated one - is the same argument that has been used to indoctrinate citizens since the founding of the East India Company. "They want us there! They love us! We make their lives better! If it weren't for us, they'd have nothing!" This is the argument fabricated by colonizing forces to convince a citizenry that benefited from Indian wares that what was happening was not a moral and ethical atrocity. Because this citizenry DID benefit regarding material wealth and well being, they had no problem buying the argument hook, line and sinker. The Indians were not made SLAVES; their lives were improved because they got to WORK! With the rise of the middle class, work was the new black. Aristocracy was soooo five minutes ago.
Now, globalization is the new colonization. Rather than stealing the house, we're now just robbing it of its wealth. Rather than generously bestowing the prospect of work on the "little people" of the world, we are giving them MONEY - a whole whopping 18 cents an hour! More importantly, we're generously offering them an invite to the world of capitalism. It's not so much that they would have nothing without us; they would just be subsisting, living off of THEIR land, and providing for themselves and their families. Sure, they'd be "poor" comparatively, but they'd be autonomous. They'd be working for themselves. They would set the standards for working conditions. They wouldn't be dependent. They wouldn't be consumers. They wouldn't be abused. There's nothing wrong with being "poor" compared to the Western world. When wealth means dying of obesity, who needs it? After all, it's like Dr. Seuss said: "Nobody needs Thneeds."
I think it's good to create analogies that suggest a microcosmic situation that mirrors common macrocosmic situations. It allows us to see the global world for what it really is, in terms that hit closer to home. It also allows us to reflect upon the ridiculous nature of global politics. Obviously, it's not funny on a practical level, but conceptually, I can't help but chuckle. Why on earth would such a microcosmic situation be utterly reprehensible, but the same situation on a global scale is perfectly fine and "business as usual"? It's like murder being morally reprehensible and illegal, but war being perfectly reasonable and even necessary in the name of "Freedom" (money, oil, other such resources gained, child labor, etc.). Of course, the reason no one questions this is the same reason many of my students can't write observation essays. As long as they have their Walmart-bought toys assembled in Taiwan by 7-year-old shoeless and malnourished children, what more is there to think about? It ain't their house being invaded. Then, I must admit my own hypocrisy. Walmart's not the only bad guy. Our entire culture is founded upon this globalized economy. Hell, this computer was probably built in Taiwan. Nonetheless, there's something to be said for awareness. It's a step.
Returning to the argument between my father and me, his stand - and I don't mind calling it an uneducated one - is the same argument that has been used to indoctrinate citizens since the founding of the East India Company. "They want us there! They love us! We make their lives better! If it weren't for us, they'd have nothing!" This is the argument fabricated by colonizing forces to convince a citizenry that benefited from Indian wares that what was happening was not a moral and ethical atrocity. Because this citizenry DID benefit regarding material wealth and well being, they had no problem buying the argument hook, line and sinker. The Indians were not made SLAVES; their lives were improved because they got to WORK! With the rise of the middle class, work was the new black. Aristocracy was soooo five minutes ago.
Now, globalization is the new colonization. Rather than stealing the house, we're now just robbing it of its wealth. Rather than generously bestowing the prospect of work on the "little people" of the world, we are giving them MONEY - a whole whopping 18 cents an hour! More importantly, we're generously offering them an invite to the world of capitalism. It's not so much that they would have nothing without us; they would just be subsisting, living off of THEIR land, and providing for themselves and their families. Sure, they'd be "poor" comparatively, but they'd be autonomous. They'd be working for themselves. They would set the standards for working conditions. They wouldn't be dependent. They wouldn't be consumers. They wouldn't be abused. There's nothing wrong with being "poor" compared to the Western world. When wealth means dying of obesity, who needs it? After all, it's like Dr. Seuss said: "Nobody needs Thneeds."
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