Selfishness

I am going to be an aunt for the first time this summer, and I am going to be out of town for the first month of her life. I was going to go home and visit a few weeks after she is born, but finances just did not work out. At first, I was hurt. I not only felt like I was missing a part of her life (and the lives of my brother and sister-in-law), but I felt like I was missing an important event in my life. I wanted to be there to welcome them home, to hold the baby, to see her for the first time. I wanted to support my family, to celebrate with them. I only go from not an aunt to being an aunt once in my life, and I didn't want to miss it.

Yesterday was Memorial Day, and I went to the National Memorial Day Concert on Capitol Hill. It was a beautiful concert with famous performers like B.B. King and Kris Allen performing. The national orchestra was fabulous, and the whole experience was televised to the nation. During the concert, the did short features on servicemen and women. Sometimes the stories were about a death, sometimes a story was about a lost limb. One story was about a man who was going home to meet his daughter for the first time, and she was months if not years old. Here I was, excited to be in the nation's capitol and yet upset at missing the first month of my niece's life when American men are leaving pregnant wives and girlfriends and missing the delivery room. The hospital pictures. The ride home. How often do we put ourselves first.

Even when we don't think we are being selfish, I suggest that we are. I wanted to support my family and show the love I already have for Clara, and there is nothing wrong with that. At the same time, however, I forgot about the women who gave birth without their husbands. I forgot about the sons and daughters whose fathers miss their first steps, maybe even their first words. The Buddhists believe that attachment leads to suffering. That desire for things causes us to be disappointed and to have pain. While I do not believe that complete detachment is in my future, I think there is some truth in what they are saying. Can we be so attached to our loved ones that we do not transfer that emotion and understanding? We do not empathize. It is not that we are cold-hearted, but rather that we simply do not realize.

I think that is a bigger problem than cold-hearted-ness. In today's American society, the problem is not that anyone wants people to starve. The problem is that we are so worried about our family, our friends, our loved ones, going the least bit hungry that we forget to see the forest for the trees. We forget that other mothers, sons, sisters, uncles and grandmas need food too. They need to see a doctor. They need new glasses, school supplies, and diapers. This is not a demand that government step in, because isn't government a way to force people to act a certain way? No. This is a desire that individual people would open their hearts and love the person they don't know like they would love their sister.

The "or"

Should I buy a guitar or should I buy a piano?

Or. What does it mean? In common English, it means either one or the other. It means I am going out tonight or I am staying in. It implies a choice between two options, not the possibility of both. It means I should be either a guitar or a piano.

In the world of logic (according to my Patterns of Reasoning prof), the "or" is represented by a wedge "v" and represents all possibilities where at least one statement on either side of the wedge ("disjunct") is true. So, if the left disjunct is true, the statement is true. If the right disjunct is true, the statement is true. There is not a necessity that the opposite disjunct be false. In other words, BOTH can be true. So the answer to an "or" question can be yes.

Reread the first sentence: Should I buy a guitar or should I buy a piano? Yes.

Yes, you should buy one of them. It may not have been what I meant when I asked, in fact often times people are teased for answering "or" questions with a yes or a no, but it is a correct answer. At least one of the disjuncts is true.

The English major in me is a little bit weirded out by this concept, and I definitely voiced my confusion in class. How could any sentence more emphatically imply one or the other but not both than by saying "either a or b"? It was pointed out that one side being true does not necessarily imply that the other is false, unless the statements are a tautology, that is the encompass all possible outcomes (such as "a or not a" or "it is raining or it is not raining").

It seems to me that this has great implications for life. Imagine what it would be like if I was right and you could be right too. Obviously statements like "there is a god or there is not a god" cannot both be true, but there are other things that do not necessarily have to contradict.

Take for instance the concept of power. A lot of people view power as a finite resource, that is if I have power I don't want to give you any, because that means I lose some. The problem with that is that it is not true. If there is a disruptive student in a class who is always trying to control others and is simply belligerent, giving that student some power might help. I heard a story about this where the teacher wanted to do a presentation about a certain geographical area on Monday, so on Friday the teacher asked that student what she wanted to learn. The presentation was largely shaped by the student's input, but the teacher's end of teaching about that region was met. The teacher had the power to choose the topic, but the student had the power to choose the topic.

How many times to we assume that what we believe or how we do things is right because "it makes sense," "it's the best way," or "there can only be on right answer."

Or all of the above.

Why?

Why do we fill out our Facebook profiles for the whole world to look at the Sparknotes versions of us?

Why do we blog about our lives as if it was a private diary that we have left open for everyone to read?

And is there a difference between Facebook and blogging?

I think everyone has at least two lives. People have the life that they live on the outside, the one where they go to class or work, they act out certain values, and they return phone calls. (If people don't have two outer lives, they're doing pretty well.) But people also have inner lives; the lives where they process what the experience. The lives where they question why the go to class or work, act out or even hold certain values, and why they return phone calls. It's easy to see when you think about it. What are the two types of responses to the question "how are you doing today?"? People can say "Oh, I'm good. This thing in my life is happening" or they can say "I'm responding-or-thinking in this-way about this thing that happened."

I think different online venues reflect these types of communication.

Facebook is a social networking site; it allows people to connect to other people, and in my mind the people that are connecting are 3-D friends as well. Granted, they might be miles apart, but at some level their relationship was in the real world, not just the cyber world. At least in the way that I view "Facebook friends." People's "essentials" or preferences are put on their profiles to aid in identification and for fun. In other words, people put up "I like diet coke" and "I was born in Minnesota" but most people don't reveal too much beyond that. And for those that do put up too much personal information, they are shunned. Something is off about TMI in statuses, and it's still weird to put it in a note. Everyone can see it. That's the thing about Facebook--everyone DOES see it. Even if I have my security settings to "only friends," there is still substantial pressure to accept every friend request and never delete anyone. My theory? If we're not actually friends in real life and we never communicate online, why do you need to have access to my information?

Blogging, on the other hand, is more like a journal or a thought process, and we just put it up for anyone to read. So, it's kind of like the worst of Facebook, because everyone can read it. But it's also better than the best of Facebook, because it's a different venue and people seeking a video clip, a funny quote, or a picture won't read a bunch of text. Take my blogger, for example. I put up things that I am thinking about, things that are going on inside of me... things that are actually a part of my inside life. While this information is "more personal" and less guarded against the amorphous "everyone," it is for a different type of person. On Facebook, "likes," "pokes," comments and notifications are essential to the continuation of the communication. A blog, at least this one, operates for a different reason.

Yeah, it's nice to have people comment on my posts. That's kind of the point of putting up a musing instead of simply thinking it--to engage in some sort of a discussion. But this information is less identifiable. It is a thought that is personal because it comes from inside me, but it is not personal because it is about something outside me. If I love going to Chipotle every day for lunch (which I would if I had the money and had one significantly nearer than 150 miles), I work at X establishment and there is a Chipotle next door, that information is harmless but it's creepy to have anyone online know. Stalker much? It's not that any of the information is bad, too personal, wrong, or creepy, but assembling it in one place is just awkward. For me, at least.

I think a blog is not just "safer" from the online-creeper standpoint, but it actually has potential to connect people. Knowing you and 1,437,380 other people like Chipotle does nothing for you. Knowing what someone else thinks about x-y-z even when you don't know who that person is... now that can actually be beneficial.

Socialization v. Change

I am in sociology right now, and there are so many topics that could fill my blog that I've begun to write down particularly intriguing topics in a notebook to think more about later. So, a lot of posts will probably stem from that class. My prof would be so proud.

The process of socialization is the process by which we learn, accept and internalize social norms. Socialization is what teaches us that it's gross to pick your nose; first we learn that it is disgusting in all circumstances, then we learn that it is gross in public. It is the process of us accepting a set of "norms" of a given culture, society or group. When people join the military, they are re-socialized in the total institution that controls everything about their lives. They learn the new norm, and they internalize it.

Resocialization is usually done voluntarily, like in the military, but it can still be difficult. Accepting a different way of thinking, or processing, of living life can't come easily. Think about the formation of our country; they wanted power to rest in the people, but it was a revolutionary concept. The notion that there would be multiple branches that would somehow balance each other and would represent the changing will of the People. They feared the uneducated masses. They had no real reference for the type of government that was established. It was scary, and it took the entire country a long time to fully accept this government. Even now, there is debate over issues of federal versus state power. The process of accepting a new way of functioning, the context in which people would participate politically, the entire environment and structure of power... they wanted the change but it did not come easily.

Think about democratization in the Middle East. We think our form of government is the best for arguably legitimate reasons, and we are trying to set up a "modern" government in a matter of a few years that took our nation many to accept. The process of socialization takes more time than that. Not to mention the fact that if people do not want to change, they do not willingly internalize the resocialization!

So, what's the difference between change and socialization? Most obviously, change can be limited to a few things within a society whereas socialization is all-encompassing.

But, I think any form of change can require socialization.

When you get a driver's license, the way you act in a car needs to completely change. You can't sleep, and you start paying more attention to the things outside of the car. It revolutionizes that section of your life, your life inside a car when you are driving. When you get into an ensemble you have to internalize rehearsal schedules and conducting styles, and you have to adjust to a different group of people. When you go to college (arguably a total institution if you live on campus and eat in dining services), you have to accept being by yourself, learn to resolve differences with a roommate, and discover a whole new way to live life (eating based on a DS schedule, for example).

I think the main difference between change and socialization is that you don't have to like both. You can like one, the other, or neither. Some people like to experience new things, but they might not like to stay submerged in that new thing (traveling, for example). I, on the other hand, don't always like the process of adjusting to new things, but I find them fascinating. I can incorporate new technology, events and twists of life into my daily routine if I get past the awkward phase of resocialization. (Even though it's only resocialization in a small area of life, which technically isn't even resocialization.) I put myself in new situations as much as I can to try and get over the awkwardness of "the new," but I know that I can have that lack of comfort.

Think about the impact that accepting the concept of socialization v. change could have. It would not longer be "the past versus the future" in politics, relationships, or life. We could acknowledge that there's an awkward phase of adjusting to something new, and that phase is perfectly legitimate. We don't have to force 100% right now, because we know we'll get there eventually. As long as we keep moving towards a better _____, the size of the steps won't make or break the journey.

What Doesn't Kill Us...

It's 2 a.m., and while I should be going to bed, I know I won't be able to sleep. I've been thinking about the old saying "what doesn't kill us makes us stronger."

Is it really true?

Yes, life is hard, and we can endure more difficult times after we are put through something hard.

We learn how to ride a bike after we fall down a few times. We learn how to study after we fail a test or two. We learn how to be a better friend after we lose some of the best ones we've ever had.

We learn how to live after breakups that feel like someone put our hearts through a food processor.

But are we really better people because we go through all of life's trials?

We can learn to fear bikes if we fall too many times. We can learn to hate a particular subject or school all together if we always fail.

We can learn patience when dealing with frustrating coworkers or classmates, but we can also learn to judge. We can learn to understand when faced with people drastically different than ourselves, but we can also learn to hate and to fear. We can learn to love again, but we can also learn to hide our hearts.

Just because someone gets through a life filled with challenges does not mean that he or she is a better person for it. If it did, then why are there cycles where the abused becomes the abuser? Where the judged becomes judgmental?

Right here you might be expecting a conclusion like "so, make sure you take the best from the trials of life. Be a better person because of it." But that's not what I'm saying. While a part of our reactions is just that--OUR reactions, or the way we choose to respond to a stimulus--I don't think it is entirely our choice. If we could control what we learn, feel and experience, then life wouldn't be nearly as interesting. I'm not saying I wouldn't prefer it, but if we could control even a single thing--ourselves--then many of the problems of life wouldn't even be issues.

What if we wouldn't have jumped to conclusions and ruined a friendship, judged someone we just met, said something without thinking... you name it. (Obviously issues like abuse are different, but for the sake of my tangent, just stay with me).

The thing is, if we can't control the way we act, how could we possibly be expected to control the way we respond?

I'm not sure, but I know we are all responsible for our actions. If a woman comes home to her husband in bed with another woman and shoots them both, the fact that she was ticked-off is not a defense. She should have controlled her desire, and because she didn't she is held responsible.

In a much less visible way, we are also responsible for our emotional responses to the stimulus that is life.

One way to control personal responses, a way that I think is more common than we admit, is to limit the amount we allow ourselves to feel. Think about it: if I am told that "I have a good attitude" through it all, how am I supposed to respond when I have emotional, frustrated, and even hateful thoughts? If I've been told that "I'm always so positive," how should I relate to myself when I can't even touch positivity with a 39 1/2 foot pole? I do not allow myself to experience these emotions, at least in part. We can feel some of it, because that's normal, but we are given an allotted "grieving" or "angry" period, and we are expected to move on and pull ourselves up by the boot-straps. In doing this, I think we lose a little bit of what it is to be human.

I'm not saying we need to let our emotions run wild or toss all social contract to the wind, but what if we allowed each other to actually feel for however long it was necessary?

What if 5 years later we were reminded of "it," and instead of lying to ourselves about how we've "moved on," we allowed ourselves to feel whatever that emotion is?

What if we realized that isolation and a frozen heart could actually be a response to "what doesn't kill us"?

Imagine what society would look like if we stopped trying to tell people that "they'll be fine," "it's okay," and "you're so strong" when they really need to be mad or cry or complain.

I think there would be less hearts held together by band-aids and more hearts actually healing.

A "Logical" Mind? Really?

I was just looking at my blog (don't we all just look at our own pages and think about what could be better or changed?), and I read what I decided to title it. It hit me. "A logical and developing mind." Really? I'd say that I don't, as is common with most people, think in logical patterns.

Right now I'm taking Patterns of Reasoning, which is basically a logic class, and we've learned logical forms and what makes a logically sound argument (among other things). I definitely do not think in logical patterns, in fact, I'd venture to say that I think in rather illogical patterns. I'm not just saying that I do not usually think in the logic forms we use in class, but I'm wondering if it is at all possible to think logically.

Take this example:

I think about my life. I think about myself as a person--the inner-workings and motivations that make me do what I do-- and I think about how I think. Yet, in all of that contemplation, most of it is driven by who I want to be or the emotion of the situation I am in. Not that I see this at the time, but it is pretty evident looking back. I don't necessarily need to think about x-y-or-z, because I can rationalize whatever I bring to the table.

So, I wonder if other people must be driven by emotion too. I'm not talking about high school drama with overly emotional "OMG he's, like, totally being stupid." I'm talking about inner emotional desires like the being accepted, loved, feeling valuable and strong, and being self-sufficient.

The say that history is written by the victor, so do we reinterpret our pasts?

Do we create stories that got us here, like a little testimony to how far we've come, even if there's not much to tell? Or is it simply forgetfulness? Or are those stories real because their implications are real, regardless of the fact that they might not be totally correct? In believing or creating these stories, doing so do we lose or find ourselves?

Can a conclusion ever really be reached?

(Probably) Controversial Musings...

A few things need to be clarified before I get to my most recent musing:

I've always viewed heaven as the place where God is and hell as the place where He is not. In that sense, Got is with those who want to be with Him for all of eternity (thus, heaven). Conversely, He does not force people to spend eternity with Him if they do not want to (thus, hell). He does not force people to accept Jesus' payment, because He allows them to choose their destiny. He is just (thus the required payment for sins), but He believes in free choice (thus the lack of forcing us to spend eternity with Him, which, in its own way, would be a form of "hell").

Since God is Love and all things good, heaven must be all of those things. The beautiful imagery of pearly gates, streets of gold, etc, could be ways people try to capture the sheer AWESOMENESS of God's presence. Conversely, the lack of beauty, love, peace, forgiveness, etc, would be painful--like a burning lake of fire or many of the other colorful descriptors we've all heard about hell.

I am not God, and I will never say I know who will and will not get into heaven. Yes, Jesus' death pays for sins, and it is a free gift that must be accepted. But what about that proverbial person on an island who never hears the story of Jesus? Would a gracious, loving God condemn that person to death simply because they didn't know the right words? I don't think He could, because if that person wants to be with God, then God would be reminding me of a petty politician arguing semantics if he turned this person away for not having the right phrasing. Or the completely correct religious doctrine.

Extrapolate that out a little bit: If a person's soul, their essence, the core of their very being, wants to be with God, wouldn't LOVE suggest that God would let that person be with Him? That's what the island metaphor and God's character suggest to me.
Since that's the case, let's take it a little further. What if a man is born into a different religion, searches for God, follows "God" as best as he can, and dies without ever hearing the name of Jesus. Would God condemn that searching man to an eternity without Him simply because another human being didn't have a "mission trip" to his land? That would be a pretty petty God, and that's not the God that I know.
Finally, I believe that every person is wired with a need for God. A "God-shaped hole" is in everyone, if you will. If you strip away the scars life has given everyone, I believe that in the purest form, we were made to be with God and our souls desire it. That would suggest that every person is like our theorhetical man who never saw a missionary.

I know that this logic seems to imply that everyone would go to Heaven, including Hitler, Stalin, Bin Laden, and Hussein. It would also say that Ghandi, Confuscious, the Dalai Lhama, Mother Theresa and Billy Graham would be there. That might seem unfair, but if the people in the first list or the "unsaved" ones in the second had realized their soul's desire moments before their deaths, they could've gone to Heaven. Why would a good God deny their souls' true desire simply because they did not realize it until it was "too late"?

This seems to imply zero need for a hell. I remember one of my pastor's sermons where he was telling the story of Jesus' death and descent into Hell. On the third day, Jesus broke open the gates to Hell and said "buh-bye! I'm taking they KEYS with me!", according to Pastor Dave. That image stuck with me. Why couldn't Jesus have broken open the gates for everyone?

I know, I know. It's controversial, and it says there is no need for Hell. I'm working on that. but everything except the final conclusion seems to make sense to me, and it's simply my most recent musing.