i come from a country which europeans consider overly conservative and prudish. this is the same country that asians consider dangerously liberal and much too permissive. i now live in a country with strict laws regarding adult behavior which is legal and accepted, or at least openly tolerated, at home. in the midst of this setting, i have a new drug. i have quickly and unexpectedly found that I do not want to live without it.
one of the things we taught our kids was that everyone has addictions. we have to be careful with the things we allow ourselves to become addicted to. some things are fully accepted (the perfect stimulant of caffeine), some are illegal and dangerous (ecstasy or heroin). some are cheap (chocolate); some are expensive beyond all reason (cocaine or golf). all things come with a cost and a benefit, we tried to teach the kids to consider this when we are trying new things.
when we watch ourselves begin to try and enjoy new things, we should focus on the why as much as the what. why we allow ourselves to become dependent on something is just as important as what the thing is. let’s say we become addicted to exercise. if the addiction is positive in that it helps us stay fit and remain active, that is a good. but if it’s based on narcissistic self focus which blurs all other human relations, that is a bad. it is true that most things good can be turned to evil if they are over indulged so good addiction is enjoying the dependence while retaining control and objectivity.
given all of these thoughts, i have come to realize i am a newly minted addict. i have tried a new drug and i love it. it alters my mood to the point of euphoria, it allows me to stay up all night long and talk about random things. it then helps me sleep the deepest and most restful sleep i have ever experienced. it also gives me a quiet sense of comfort that is so refreshing and wonderful i never want it to stop.
it is simple to get, it has caused no negative side effects and as far as i know it is legal everywhere in the world. i am an addict. i have begun to plan my days to allow me to have the smallest taste of the drug. i have gotten to the office late; i have delayed work to give me time to wrap myself in the warm embrace of the drug.
this would normally scare me to death; i know i am seeding control of my life. i don’t care. i want the high more than i want the control. we addicts become skilled at making rationalizations. i am hooked and there is little chance that i will go back to living without it. unless my friends sense that i need an intervention, i will continue. but i have talked to my close friends about it, and they are telling me to take the drug, because i have not been so happy and alive in a very long time.
this is the answer to why i am taking it. it makes me happy. it has helped me start dreaming again, it has made me see the world with a new clarity and hope. it has opened parts of me which i had closed, closed even to friends who mean the world to me. i am a better person when i am on the drug. i am a happy addict.
“pick your addictions” is the best advice i have ever heard, or given. in this case, i have picked, i have picked that this is the one for me.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
past lives
as things happen in your life, as you meet people, as you experience new places or walk through a city you are constantly putting the people, places and events into context based on your past experiences. as i have been here in asia i have met people who believe in many things that i was told as a child do not exist. growing up irish catholic in the US, there were many things i was told that existed, but would never be able to see or touch, i just needed to believe. there were other things that i was told where simple figments of the imagination, which i should not be tricked by and that should never be trusted no matter how real they appeared.
i have come to see some of these things in a new light. both the things i was told to believe and those i was told not to have come into question. this is not uncommon as you experience a new culture, meet new people. what is new is the complete acceptance of these ideas. i have always been flexible and accepting of differing points of view. it may come from my pleasure at taking the counter point in any discussion where the other person is sure they are right. the pleasure is even more intense if the other person opens believing there is no validity in the opposite point of view.
it may also come from a movie shown in science class in 6th grade (is that standard 6 here?). the movie showed two people on a rotating disk, picture a merry-go-round without the horses, where one throws a ball to the other. from the viewpoint of someone standing on the side, the ball goes straight while the riders move around. when they placed the camera from the viewpoint of the rider throwing the ball, the ball appears to wildly curve to the side.
this simple experiment was meant to show the rotation of the earth and to explain a bit of physics to a group of irish catholic boys who may have otherwise believed an unmoving hand moved the ball to the side. for me it proved that point of view had much to do with the interpretation of the events.
when an old friend contacts you out of the blue, and the timing adds extra impact to over events that are happening in your life, do you believe it’s a coincidence or is somehow related? if you meet someone, and realize you have met them before, is the connection part of that chance set of events or something larger? when you are with someone you barely know, and you feel comfortable beyond all reasonable explanation, does it throw up a wall of doubt and guarded protection, or does it bring a sense of relaxation and warmth?
the point of view for the viewer of course is related to prior events of the viewer. more surprisingly, as i am exposed to asia and it’s people, i am coming to believe that the hindus had something in the belief in past lives. this teaching is not part of catholic doctrine, but i was told of past lives first my by devote grandmother. nana taught me that if you were not clearly good or bad in life, you would be sent back to “try again”. clearly, coming back would only be useful if some of the past were left as echoes you could hear when you listened to yourself. this, in the western context would be your conscience; your inner voice of past experience, reminding you why things are right or wrong.
if i believe nana, it is not just the past lives of this life, but those of other lives that are affecting us. it is not just the person who you loved a few years ago you are remembering and missing, but the one you loved in another time and another place. past lives from this life do impact you, they do come to mind, they do help us to remember what is important or right for us. but the echoes of the “past past” are there also. the feelings can be there if you are open to sensing the flows, listening to your voice and accepting the validity of what you sense is right. just like the ball thrower, sometimes the sense that something unseen is affecting events, is real. life is like physics, unknown energy is flowing through and around us. the gravity of time and space, the light of life, the heat of relationships are with us always.
we just need to accept and believe.
i have come to see some of these things in a new light. both the things i was told to believe and those i was told not to have come into question. this is not uncommon as you experience a new culture, meet new people. what is new is the complete acceptance of these ideas. i have always been flexible and accepting of differing points of view. it may come from my pleasure at taking the counter point in any discussion where the other person is sure they are right. the pleasure is even more intense if the other person opens believing there is no validity in the opposite point of view.
it may also come from a movie shown in science class in 6th grade (is that standard 6 here?). the movie showed two people on a rotating disk, picture a merry-go-round without the horses, where one throws a ball to the other. from the viewpoint of someone standing on the side, the ball goes straight while the riders move around. when they placed the camera from the viewpoint of the rider throwing the ball, the ball appears to wildly curve to the side.
this simple experiment was meant to show the rotation of the earth and to explain a bit of physics to a group of irish catholic boys who may have otherwise believed an unmoving hand moved the ball to the side. for me it proved that point of view had much to do with the interpretation of the events.
when an old friend contacts you out of the blue, and the timing adds extra impact to over events that are happening in your life, do you believe it’s a coincidence or is somehow related? if you meet someone, and realize you have met them before, is the connection part of that chance set of events or something larger? when you are with someone you barely know, and you feel comfortable beyond all reasonable explanation, does it throw up a wall of doubt and guarded protection, or does it bring a sense of relaxation and warmth?
the point of view for the viewer of course is related to prior events of the viewer. more surprisingly, as i am exposed to asia and it’s people, i am coming to believe that the hindus had something in the belief in past lives. this teaching is not part of catholic doctrine, but i was told of past lives first my by devote grandmother. nana taught me that if you were not clearly good or bad in life, you would be sent back to “try again”. clearly, coming back would only be useful if some of the past were left as echoes you could hear when you listened to yourself. this, in the western context would be your conscience; your inner voice of past experience, reminding you why things are right or wrong.
if i believe nana, it is not just the past lives of this life, but those of other lives that are affecting us. it is not just the person who you loved a few years ago you are remembering and missing, but the one you loved in another time and another place. past lives from this life do impact you, they do come to mind, they do help us to remember what is important or right for us. but the echoes of the “past past” are there also. the feelings can be there if you are open to sensing the flows, listening to your voice and accepting the validity of what you sense is right. just like the ball thrower, sometimes the sense that something unseen is affecting events, is real. life is like physics, unknown energy is flowing through and around us. the gravity of time and space, the light of life, the heat of relationships are with us always.
we just need to accept and believe.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
comfortable storm
for first time since coming here i realized i fell asleep to the sound of rain and woke up to it. it’s that hard tropical rain. a rain that sounds heavier than western rain. the sound wraps around you and feels like it envelops you from all sides. its rain that you know is warm, but that would soak you to the bone immediately if you were to step outside into it.
i am lying in bed and watching the streaks on the windows. the morning twilight of a rainy dawn struggles to fill the room. the steady beat of the millions of drops falling together just outside my window push me back to sleep, coaxing me back to my dreams, the comfort and warmth of sub conscience. i lay, stretching my body and pulling the blankets closer for warmth while the demands of the day force me to open my eyes and concentrate on reality.
thunder is in the distance. the violence of the storm is away from me. barely heard as an echo, the rumbles getting further apart as i feel the reverberations in my head. the distance is too far to sense the flashes of lightening. they must be there but can not be felt from the comfort of my lonely bed.
it's time to throw the covers off and put my feet down on the icy tile flooring. the sensation of energy draining from my body through my feet, pulling the accumulated warmth of the night out of me is a daily reminder of the harsh transition between worlds.
i need to rush to the shower. if i can get my body under the temporary heat of the spray, feel the deep soothing warmth of the water spread through my skin, i can reclaim the energy sapped by the cold floor and start my day recharged, ready to take on the storm raging outside my window. ready to walk though the rain, feeling the drops beat their random symphony of white noise on the world around me. feeling the smallest percentage of drops touch my skin, while others come close but fall just short.
the shower water will be dried off, but the drops of rain will merge together, left to pool on the skin, tropical rain drops leaving streaks on my skin like the ones on the window. both barriers meant to protect the warm and dry insides from the wetness from outside. leaving trails of their passing, but not penetrating beyond the barrier.
it's time to get up.
i am lying in bed and watching the streaks on the windows. the morning twilight of a rainy dawn struggles to fill the room. the steady beat of the millions of drops falling together just outside my window push me back to sleep, coaxing me back to my dreams, the comfort and warmth of sub conscience. i lay, stretching my body and pulling the blankets closer for warmth while the demands of the day force me to open my eyes and concentrate on reality.
thunder is in the distance. the violence of the storm is away from me. barely heard as an echo, the rumbles getting further apart as i feel the reverberations in my head. the distance is too far to sense the flashes of lightening. they must be there but can not be felt from the comfort of my lonely bed.
it's time to throw the covers off and put my feet down on the icy tile flooring. the sensation of energy draining from my body through my feet, pulling the accumulated warmth of the night out of me is a daily reminder of the harsh transition between worlds.
i need to rush to the shower. if i can get my body under the temporary heat of the spray, feel the deep soothing warmth of the water spread through my skin, i can reclaim the energy sapped by the cold floor and start my day recharged, ready to take on the storm raging outside my window. ready to walk though the rain, feeling the drops beat their random symphony of white noise on the world around me. feeling the smallest percentage of drops touch my skin, while others come close but fall just short.
the shower water will be dried off, but the drops of rain will merge together, left to pool on the skin, tropical rain drops leaving streaks on my skin like the ones on the window. both barriers meant to protect the warm and dry insides from the wetness from outside. leaving trails of their passing, but not penetrating beyond the barrier.
it's time to get up.
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