Stars & RomComs

I grade for an astronomy class this semester, so I get to relearn a lot of things from when I took the course. Stars are believed to have formed out of clouds of hydrogen, helium, and random dust in space. The bigger the cloud, the bigger the star that forms from it, because there is more stuff to be pulled into the star and more gravitational energy to do the pulling. Bigger stars pull together with more gravitational energy, and they have hotter cores (gravitational energy becomes thermal energy). The stars also create new elements in their cores. Remember how elements are made of different numbers of protons, neutrons, and electrons? When hydrogen and helium heat up, they fly around and smash together into bigger groups. That makes new elements. The greater heat essentially makes the star "burn up" faster than smaller stars, but it can create bigger elements before it dies. Thus, bigger stars have shorter lives, and smaller stars have longer lives. It seems backwards, because more wood for a fire means it'll burn longer, right? Not if it's in one gigantic pile. Smaller stars don't burn as hotly, but they don't cool as quickly.

RomComs generally have two story lines:

1. Boy & Girl meet. Instantly fall in love. Someone does something stupid, and they break up. Everyone is sad, but eventually the stupid person does some sort of huge romantic gesture to show just how sorry s/he is (like chasing to an airport, building a white house with blue shutters...). The first person ultimately forgets the offense, and they live happily ever after.

2. Boy and Girl are either friends or hate each other. Either way, they are constantly in each others' lives as one or both of them do stupid things with other people. In a moment of weakness (a bar, recovering from a break-up...), they get together. Sometimes there's an "oh-no-we-didn't" moment that's eventually overpowered, but they're just magnets that stick together. They forget why they didn't date or hated each other. They live happily ever after.

The problem with these isn't just that they're unrealistic. It's not just that they oversimplify relationships; it's that when one out of two marriages end in divorce, that is all people know about relationships. This isn't just a post about intense relationships that fizzle or friendships that last forever. I'm wondering if it's even possible for intense relationships to last.

Can you have a big star that has a long life?

Technically all stars have long lives, like a bajillion years or something (I just made that up), but I have to wonder. RomComs would say that when you end up together, every moment will be intense. It'll be a giant star that burns hotter and brighter than others. But physics says the bigger, brighter, and hotter the star, the quicker it will die.

What if strong, healthy relationships are like smaller stars? They still create new elements in their cores, they still emit light, and their deaths are still noteworthy galactic events. But maybe, just maybe, healthy relationships aren't about being big and flawless. They just are. And instead of giving up on them, like RomComs tell us to do unless both people sweep their problems under the rug, maybe we need the other person to tell us we're acting like a crazy person. What if we could let that person create new things in us, make us better, teach us about ourselves, as long as that person is in our life?

Life: Textbooks, Labs, and Picasso

Last semester, I took my one lab science course, Astronomy, as a part of my core requirements. It was a great example of different types of learning, because in lab courses you learn and experience. The best labs were ones where we used a spectrometer to see the different properties of light or where we lined up lenses and saw how they flipped a poster at the end of the hall upside-down. The good labs weren't just worksheets with specific numbers; that's classroom, textbook stuff.

If your mind is as crazy as mine can be, you've already reached a moral: life is about living, not formulas, calculations, and textbooks. It's not about playing it safe and coloring inside the lines. But that's not the only thing I'm thinking about.

Go back to the learning analogy. Remember that there are different styles of learning. Some people learn best when they read off the page; they remember where the text was relative to other information and pictures, the re-read the words until they fall neatly into organized memories and can be recalled as needed. Other people have to speak or teach what they are trying to learn to etch it into the sands of their recollection. They need to look at the keyboard as they type so they can close their eyes and recall where the keys were. Still other people need to know why; they need to understand what works and what doesn't work about everything relating to that fact or theory. They need to experience it.

Now consider how people live their lives. Some people read historical, philosophical, or even religious texts and grasp a great deal from the text. They can apply the meaning to their lives, and they truly internalize the concepts. Others need to process their understandings by talking to other people. They have an "open mind" and are truly touched by the experiences of others. They change when they see something happening. And still other people learn what the painting of their life will look like as they simply color and find out what looks good. It's not that they do not understand that which motivates the first person. It's not that they do not wish they could be completely motivated and changed by the stories of others, after all it would be nice to learn from another person's mistakes. What if it was that this type of person simply learned differently?

What if, instead of condemning others who do not condemn themselves, we allowed them to go "Picasso" on their life's beautiful canvas until it became uniquely beautiful?

Career, Family, and Spotts

A wee little bit of background (and a plug):

A few weeks ago, a friend recommended a blog to me. Now, I've never really followed more than one thing at a time. And I set that main thing as my home page (which is CNN right now, so I'm trying to follow that before hitting the "Facebook"bookmark). But, this blog is different. Ally Spotts (allyspotts.com) is a twenty-something writer and teacher who blogs about life, relationships, singleness, running (yeah, I don't do that part), and her experience with the "Quarter-Life Crisis." There are so many things I love about her blog: how she writes (she has a bachelor's degree in writing), how she presents her information (she is honest and not "fluffy" or superficial), and the perspective she brings (she is old enough to have more experience than my circles, she just got engaged, and her applications are those of a Christian while not being overtly religious). I may not follow it regularly, but it was the first thing I added to my RSS feed, and I am sure to at least skim ALL of her posts. In late Semptember, Ally blogged about the "Career v. Relationship" dilemma society places on women. In fact, she had a guest blogger contribute "The Lies I Tell My Single Self" the next day. This guest laid bare her three excuses for not dating (simplified): "I don't have anything to offer," "I don't want to bring anyone into this mess," and "I want to figure myself out first." It made me think about my life, so here we are.

The point:

Life does not go as planned. We know this. Most plans to marry by 25, start a family a few years later, and make partner at the firm by 30 don't pan out just the way you thought they would. Goals are important, but planning life's every detail doesn't make the adventure of life very adventuresome. In fact, it makes the changes in life earth-shattering. When you don't get into the college you've dreamed of attending for a decade. When you don't get the dream job right out of college.

When you suddenly realize something new might be better than you could ever have planned, a new major, career path, relationship, or singlessness, it can be freeing. And experiencing a little bit of this freedom can tempt carelessness. A lack of planning. A lack of vision. No drive. "Freedom from" can be over-applied.

If (when?) I get married, life's decisions will be different than they are now. Financial obligations will change. Visions of where to live will be different. The decision to accept a job offer will be more complicated. All of these will involve a whole separate person's opinions. And this is not something my million-option mind can process in advance. So this part of life's plans have to stay loose. I don't even have a choice in that one. While I can hope, I cannot bank on being married by 25, 27, 29. I cannot stop making plans now on the assumption that I will someday have to change that plan, because I just don't know. And yet, I need some sort of a plan so I don't have a lack of vision. So I am not considered a rambler with no drive.

So I plan: law school after my undergrad, during which time I will spoil my niece as she goes through the infant-toddler stage. Kick butt in law school. Graduate with a job offer. Kick butt as a lawyer. Eventually work with mainly or solely discrimination cases. Kick some major hateful-butt at that. Maybe argue a case in front of the Supreme Court someday, but that's just a crazy dream. Throw in marriage and kids somewhere, maybe.

The fact that I'm planning has caused some friends to say I'm "career-oriented" instead of "family-oriented," but I say I have a plan that I like. I have a map, a drive, a destination in mind. Yet life is a road trip, and I'm open to taking a day here and there in new cities. Enjoying the sights. Meeting the locals. And until I have to decide which sight to see in which city or which local (read: "stranger") to talk to, this all sounds great. But it's scary. If I'm not petrified when I actually have to make these choices, I just might get addicted to the freedom.

And I wonder: what if I get so caught up in the distractions that I never make it to my destination? Will I look back and say "I wish I could have loved Person X, worked at Firm X, fought for Cause X"? What if I really am rationalizing "I don't have anything to offer," "I'm a mess," and "I need to figure me out"? How can we ever know if we're on a lazy, crazy, or perfect path?

Anxious Concern

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear." I'm not really sure where that quote originated, but I'm sure most ladies know it's from the Princess Diaries. That's really not the point.

Merriam-Webster defines fear (the noun) first as "an unpleasant often strong emotion caused by anticipation or awareness of danger" and last as "a reason for alarm." That makes sense. It's something that gets our hearts racing in a not-so-pleasant way, and we don't know what will happen. The moment you're sitting at work when you can't remember if you left the stove burner going or not. That second right before you drop on a rollercoaster when you're hanging there waiting for the rest of the train to come over the hump. Your first job interview, pregnancy, or seminar class. Your first love.

But fear is not necessarily bad in itself, in fact, fear is something internal that can be caused by "exposure or liability to injury, pain, harm or loss" (the M-W definition of danger). Isn't that just life? Doesn't gettting out of bed create a liability for injury? I think this is where the other definitions of fear come in: "anxious concern" and "profound reverence and awe, especially toward God." So when we are excited yet anxious about apologizing to a friend, the first few weeks in a new job or trying something new, we are technically experiencing fear. What a strange concept.

Fear, that thing which we always say cripples us, causes us to panic or to act irrationally, need not be a bad part of life. But what does that even mean; isn't that just arguing semantics over an emotion that really could be so strong it prevents action and clear thought? Isn't the natural reaction to someone breaking into your house with a knife to be terrorized? Maybe, but that emotion does not need to be crippling.

I'm not going to say we should just be bold, yet wise, in our responses and decisions. I'm not going to go back to the beginning and say "decide something is more important than fear." You would have seen that one coming a mile away. I'm going to say fear as a good part of life looks like fear. Yes, fear looks like fear. Because how else can I say that an emotion to which we credit our own lack of action or apathy could really be "anxious concern"?

Maybe that concern is for our very lives or maybe it's not, but when we think about how some people are able to be bold and confident, or even selflessly heroic, I have to wonder if what we think about fear will actually define how we react to high-stakes situations.

I wonder if fear would be more of an overly-alerted state where our senses are all heightened and our adrenaline is flowing. Maybe having this new "fear" about taking a test will actually help you recall information; maybe "fearing" admitting something will help you say it correctly. Maybe fear, simply because we know it alerts every part of us, will make us more courageous and able to act on our "anxious concerns." What if fear is necessary for courage to even exist?

The Curious Self & Birthing

Well, that's an interesting title for a blog post, you say.

This morning in church, the pastor mentioned the birthing metaphor in Christianity. He talked about being "born again" and what that means. So, naturally, I went on a random thought tangent about birthing-- right there in the middle of the service.

Most Christians understand the phrase "born again" as something either synonymous with or closely related to "accepting Christ" and "being saved." It's the moment when you give your life to Christ, and He forgives you of your sin. But I have to wonder. See, the moment when you actually admit that you've failed is actually a joyous one--yes, it might be difficult to come to that point, but when we actually accept that we have failed, we realize that there is an alternative. There is hope; it's only up from there. Acceptance is the first stage. So the actual moment is joyous, and I have to wonder if that's what being "born again" is. It's a freeing moment when you realize Love conquers all; it's not a moment when you're thinking about your pain. You're experiencing life with out it for, maybe, the first time.

I say all this not to espouse religious doctrine but to point out the contrast between that joyous occasion and the actual birthing process. Because it's not a pretty, simple, pain-free experience. Women often do things like yell at family, blame their spouses, hurt doctors... these are not the most appealing or genteel moments of a woman's life. Yes, something beautiful exists as a result of this work, but the actual moment where the birthing takes place is not easy.

I have to wonder if being "born again" has more to do with the daily life of someone who wants to be like Christ. Ripping band-aids off wounds that we've just let fester. Getting over our pride and apologizing to friends for friendships we let die over fights that never settled. Accepting something into your life, like a new understanding of politics or society, that just might contradict what you thought you knew was right. Admitting that you have a problem. I think being "reborn" might be something that throws our closets open and exposes the skeletons for what they are--pieces of ourselves that we'd rather hide than face.

So I wonder if a person who is thinking, re-inventing, and wondering, is on a closer path to Love, Truth, and Peace than the one who only allows Love to expose selected parts of the heart. Could constant curiosity, through its existence as a conduit to the unknown, actually bring one closer to God?

Knowing Deep-Down

Back in January I blogged about socialization. I was thinking about the concept of liking change but being uncomfortable with changing. Lately I've been thinking about extending that train of thought a little further. Go with me on this one.

Let's say you're a coffee drinker, a real coffee drinker. You know what I mean; the type who buys whole beans from Caribou and has to grind them immediately before brewing. You could never set up the coffee pot the night before you wanted to brew it, unless the pot had a grinder built in, because of what the air would do to the grounds during those 8 precious hours. You can drink coffee with dinner without it keeping you up, and you loathe those who drink decaf. Decaf simply isn't real coffee, is it? It tastes different, and everyone just knows deep down that a "real" coffee-drinker drinks regular.

Deep down, we know certain things are right while others are wrong. It's our conscience, our gut, right? It's a part of every human that whispers a greater moral code that all of humanity should obey. It's something in the gut, or maybe the soul, that is only at peace with a certain arrangement of events. But what if that gut, that peace of the soul, that conscience, could not be differentiated from the us that is an accumulation of the events of our lives? We are all shaped by our upbringings. What if, deep down where it matters, we don't know the difference between the confrontation of something different and a situation that truly merits a "deep in your gut," "right and wrong" line?

I was in Caribou the other day, and I saw an advertisement for their decaf coffee. It played off the belief that decaf coffee is inferior, but it explained how their decaf beans are held to the same high standards as the regulars. It attempted to shift the frame through which the die-hards viewed their niche as to admit others to join in.

What if we didn't just assume the situation in which we are the most comfortable is the right kind of situation?

Self-Applied Labels & Budgets

This isn't about low self-esteem or damaged emotions. It's not about thinking we're better than we are. This is about definitions. I was talking with a friend the other day, and we were talking about what a "feminist" is. It was then that I realize terms such as "feminist," "Christian," "liberal," "conservative," "spiritual," and so many others are self-applied labels. Even though Webster gives terms denotations, they mean even more than their connotations.

People considering themselves feminists can range from man-hating women who believe dominance, not equality, should be the goal of womankind to women who want all people and viewpoints, not just women and our issues, to have an equal chance to be heard and considered. Similarly, people considering themselves Christians can range in belief from "Bible-thumping" believers to those who believe Christ's love has to extend beyond the rigid boundaries of modern religious practices.

One point of this realization is that the nature of language is fluid; while it can be precise, it is always changing as our lives attach different experiences to certain words. We choose whether or not we are comfortable with the term "feminist" or "republican" not only based on what the dictionary says, but also based on the way the term is perceived by others. I know many people who make a distinction between being a "Christ-follower" and a "Christian," because Christians in America have such a bad reputation. They do not want people to associate them with the hypocritical and judgmental people who seem to wear blinders and miss those in need. Instead, they agree with Gandhi when he said "I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians."

Since labels are fluid, one has to wonder what good they can do. Yes, labels such as "republican" and "democrat" can give voters a clue as to where certain candidates stand, but no chunk of society can entirely agree on all of the issues in a party's platform. Similarly, writing off a "feminist" group because they do not fit your assumptions about feminism (and are therefore not "feminists") or because they use the same term as a radical group with which you disagree does more harm than good.

With the financial stalemates going on at the state and national levels, we have to wonder if our congressmen and women are simply following our lead. When we write off half of the country as a label, refuse to think for ourselves, blame "them" for our problems, and penalize anyone on election day who would dare to "waver" from strict party lines, can we really complain when they refuse to budge?

In a political system that forces candidates to choose labels and appeal to the extremists to simply receive the nomination, can we blame them for acting the way our entire society operates?

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?