Wicked Game - Chris Isaak
I heard a Mile of Music band cover this recently. What I hope is to put it in a time capsule and have some future person discover it for the first time. It has the power to stop you in your tracks so that an ocean of feeling can flow through you from earth to the starry heavens (or am I just thinking of an ocean because of the cheesy video? but there is something watery about the blend of lust-drunk but hopeless and melancholy feeling that the song inspired). But for me it is still too recently associated with a particular time in my life that is just far enough past to seem quaint and childish, and so I react with that simple nostalgia and not with the stunned immediacy any more. But I'll bet that future person, when they open up the time capsule and hear this for the first time, feels the powerful ocean-feeling.
Kiss From a Rose - Seal
This was an "our song" for a particular relationship that was just new when it initially came out, but I've been surprised how adaptable it has been, staying a favorite and speaking romantically to me, long after that particular rose died and lost all its petals.
Magic Bus - The Who
This one was discovered in High School, during I guess a Who phase when I was feeling profound 17 year old thoughts while lying on my bed listening to the Quadrophenia soundtrack in big puffy headphones. The polyrhythms in the second half make your insides want to dance in several different directions at once, but it's the words that I think make this song romantic. I said as much one time when I was radio dj'ing in college, during Finals week of the first semester, when I had signed up for a show outside of my usual time. Much later that year, I was sitting with a boy two or three years younger than me who I typed term papers for, it was also during Finals I think, just hanging out, and I can't remember why but I think I launched into an explanation of some philosphical concept and so my hanging out voice turned into my lecturing voice, and he jumped, and pointed at me, and said, "That's where I know you from!" He said, "You were on the radio, and you played the song Magic Bus, and you said, '"Here's the most romantic song on earth, because it's about someone who wants to buy a bus, to go and see his girlfriend. I don't know, you decide.'" I could exactly remember giving that introduction, and it was funny because I still believed it, still do now and can't really see why anyone else can't, but I don't think he could, and he thought my introduction was hilarious, which is why it stuck with him.
Is it the most romantic song on earth? I don't know, you decide :-)
Monday, September 26, 2016
Contemplation of Some Terms around Discernment
Yesterday was the first meeting of my Circles of Light group, a 10-session, 6 or 9 month process of discernment for a small group.
We spent some time talking about what Discernment is and what Discernment is not. Our moderator wrote our words up on large post-its as we said them, forming helpful real-life word clouds. This, of course, was right in my wheelhouse, being not just a Verbal Learning but a Written Word Learner.
Several of them sparked a desire to delve deeper, to do some further explanation.
(I am writing all day today, just doing it. Perhaps this is what it is like to write all day, in which case, I like it!)
(9-5, instead of 11:30 to whenever?) (We'll continue to see what I can organize here.)(And investigate where you can actually get remunerated for this)
One component of What Discernment Is that resonated with me was the notion that when you discover a call, or choose a path, you are also choosing to let other things go. (Strange memory of walking by the Broadway building in Sydney, just now. Before its renovation and the grocery store being there, when it was known to be occupied by squatters) (Hm. Home, money, mortgage, maintenance of home, those types of themes) (You know, the whole New Testament, in some ways, is just all about money.)
I had just, just been thinking, it came back to me, the Counselling, Mental Health, Healthy Boundaries whatever phrase - You need to learn to say No.
A recognition in myself that instead of saying no, I just don't do the thing.
"Guilt" came up in our "What Discernment is Not" and plays a large part in this same theme.
"Editing" was added to the What Discernment Is board,
(There is enough blogging space for anyone, for all the words you want to say. There is more or less infinite space, for everyone.) (A song I heard on the car radio on the way home from this first meeting was a reggae sort of song with the refrain, "There is room enough at the table for every one.")
-- I reacted against Editing. I think my comment was that it felt like it was cheating, and I'm not sure if that really explains it, but it certainly goes against the "Yes, and" stance. It seems like it's cheating in the sense that your job is to put the puzzle together, the Ikea bookshelf from the flatpack box, with no pieces left over. You need to look at ALL the pieces of you, and all the possible components in the world, all the pursuits, all the talents, all the subject matter (places to live, degrees to get, whatever), leave nothing out, and then arrange it all into a whole that makes sense, that makes a picture that you can easily interpret, you know what it is at a glance, like a pointillist painting that resolves into a picture (like my splatter style painting hanging downstairs, brought to America with considerable trouble and expense). The problem is when you keep your focus too narrow. The problem is when you pick one path too hastily and ignore all the important things it leaves out.
Maybe this rule is derived from philosophical analysis, and definition of terms. Finding of counterexamples. You could easily define the word "chair" as "four-legged, wooden object on which to sit", if you forgot to expand your gaze and range and consider the other things that perfectly well qualify as chairs but aren't wood, or have three legs, or one leg or none but more of a base. I used to love that exercise. You don't just look at the dictionary, because that's just the fossil record of these activities by speakers and thinkers of language. What's in, what's out? Can we draw the lines more finely around this concept? Do we need a new word altogether? It illustrated what it is that analytical philosophers do, and I hope showed that it's doable, and worth doing, and needing doing.
Is Discernment Decision? Our moderator laughed when I asked this question, and said, "Of course, the philosopher!" But is it? They seem different. And it seems worthwhile to explore the difference. Ha - to try to discern the difference.
So, back to editing - after my reaction, the professional magazine editor in the room said that she didn't think of it as cutting things out, as going through with the red pen, she was thinking about editing the magazine, deciding what to call on, what article to commission to include. Curation. Trendy word, but powerful word. Is that what we do with our lives, is that what it is to live a life? What would it mean if it were? Why does editing or curation seem so different from existing yourself into the next moment, one at a time?
I have the same feeling as I do when people talk about how to have a job, one job in a career - you should the thinking, at that job, what do I need to learn from this job to get me to my next step? That always seemed super odd to me, and I know I've never done it.
Maybe the idea that life is a magazine feels inappropriate because it relies on your knowing how many pages you have to work with, that a back cover exists and that you can plan it, that an overview is possible while you're still at a moment in time along the compilation process.
That feels like just a lie, an illusion, too conservative, arrogant in a way. It ignores the chaos and terror but also the radical possibility of actually living forward into time. Really, EVERYTHING is possible. Lateral solutions are available. Orthogonal change.
Walk across the lines of the labyrinth. Stomp them out, what the heck. Punk rock anarchy comes to the medieval meditation walk.
Editing and saying no. Choosing for and therefore choosing to leave out or leave behind. Editing as compiling, commissioning, curating. No vs yes. Boundaries vs limitations. Fully existing as a whole self in community vs blowing off favors to people.
Confidence, was another weird word that struck me. The end result of this process is that we should be able to move forward confidently in the next steps on our path. With all the other mush about what we should expect - it won't happen in a certain time frame, you can't determine in advance what it will be, you may not have a single illumination at the end or indeed any, blah blah blah, then the idea that we can expect confidence seemed not to fit with that. Confidence and Confirm start the same, do they have similar roots? Confirmation - it's the name of a big step in a Christian/Episcopalian life, it's also the name for getting more support for what you already think.
That's sort of comforting, that the end result might be confirmation of something you already feel, supporting evidence, removal of doubt. So, you don't have to come up with a new future from whole cloth, you should be braced for dramatic reversals or orthogonal zags, but maybe you'll just know that you know. Test what you feel and find that it is strong and holds up. That possibility is exciting to me.
(Somehow I feel that I will only be driving back to my chosen career from practical necessity, that it doesn't have enough to it (enough authentic voice, right? working in a corporate context) that it could be the thing calling. This is my suspicion, and we'll let things roll and see if I'm right)
Another participant sounds like she's also struggling with pursuing gift vs selling out to practicality, and it was interesting to hear that we both use the job of Bank Teller as the symbol of the worst, most empty and meaningless way to spend ones time. No insult intended to all the wonderful bank tellers out there, who have served me throughout my life. But seriously, you're basically all being replaced by machines now, right?
I wonder, though, if her struggle is with doing what she has been told she should do, vs having ambition.
I should schedule another walk to maybe pursue these things with her further. Chica, you have permission to be/become a big deal!
We spent some time talking about what Discernment is and what Discernment is not. Our moderator wrote our words up on large post-its as we said them, forming helpful real-life word clouds. This, of course, was right in my wheelhouse, being not just a Verbal Learning but a Written Word Learner.
Several of them sparked a desire to delve deeper, to do some further explanation.
(I am writing all day today, just doing it. Perhaps this is what it is like to write all day, in which case, I like it!)
(9-5, instead of 11:30 to whenever?) (We'll continue to see what I can organize here.)(And investigate where you can actually get remunerated for this)
One component of What Discernment Is that resonated with me was the notion that when you discover a call, or choose a path, you are also choosing to let other things go. (Strange memory of walking by the Broadway building in Sydney, just now. Before its renovation and the grocery store being there, when it was known to be occupied by squatters) (Hm. Home, money, mortgage, maintenance of home, those types of themes) (You know, the whole New Testament, in some ways, is just all about money.)
I had just, just been thinking, it came back to me, the Counselling, Mental Health, Healthy Boundaries whatever phrase - You need to learn to say No.
A recognition in myself that instead of saying no, I just don't do the thing.
"Guilt" came up in our "What Discernment is Not" and plays a large part in this same theme.
"Editing" was added to the What Discernment Is board,
(There is enough blogging space for anyone, for all the words you want to say. There is more or less infinite space, for everyone.) (A song I heard on the car radio on the way home from this first meeting was a reggae sort of song with the refrain, "There is room enough at the table for every one.")
-- I reacted against Editing. I think my comment was that it felt like it was cheating, and I'm not sure if that really explains it, but it certainly goes against the "Yes, and" stance. It seems like it's cheating in the sense that your job is to put the puzzle together, the Ikea bookshelf from the flatpack box, with no pieces left over. You need to look at ALL the pieces of you, and all the possible components in the world, all the pursuits, all the talents, all the subject matter (places to live, degrees to get, whatever), leave nothing out, and then arrange it all into a whole that makes sense, that makes a picture that you can easily interpret, you know what it is at a glance, like a pointillist painting that resolves into a picture (like my splatter style painting hanging downstairs, brought to America with considerable trouble and expense). The problem is when you keep your focus too narrow. The problem is when you pick one path too hastily and ignore all the important things it leaves out.
Maybe this rule is derived from philosophical analysis, and definition of terms. Finding of counterexamples. You could easily define the word "chair" as "four-legged, wooden object on which to sit", if you forgot to expand your gaze and range and consider the other things that perfectly well qualify as chairs but aren't wood, or have three legs, or one leg or none but more of a base. I used to love that exercise. You don't just look at the dictionary, because that's just the fossil record of these activities by speakers and thinkers of language. What's in, what's out? Can we draw the lines more finely around this concept? Do we need a new word altogether? It illustrated what it is that analytical philosophers do, and I hope showed that it's doable, and worth doing, and needing doing.
Is Discernment Decision? Our moderator laughed when I asked this question, and said, "Of course, the philosopher!" But is it? They seem different. And it seems worthwhile to explore the difference. Ha - to try to discern the difference.
So, back to editing - after my reaction, the professional magazine editor in the room said that she didn't think of it as cutting things out, as going through with the red pen, she was thinking about editing the magazine, deciding what to call on, what article to commission to include. Curation. Trendy word, but powerful word. Is that what we do with our lives, is that what it is to live a life? What would it mean if it were? Why does editing or curation seem so different from existing yourself into the next moment, one at a time?
I have the same feeling as I do when people talk about how to have a job, one job in a career - you should the thinking, at that job, what do I need to learn from this job to get me to my next step? That always seemed super odd to me, and I know I've never done it.
Maybe the idea that life is a magazine feels inappropriate because it relies on your knowing how many pages you have to work with, that a back cover exists and that you can plan it, that an overview is possible while you're still at a moment in time along the compilation process.
That feels like just a lie, an illusion, too conservative, arrogant in a way. It ignores the chaos and terror but also the radical possibility of actually living forward into time. Really, EVERYTHING is possible. Lateral solutions are available. Orthogonal change.
Walk across the lines of the labyrinth. Stomp them out, what the heck. Punk rock anarchy comes to the medieval meditation walk.
Editing and saying no. Choosing for and therefore choosing to leave out or leave behind. Editing as compiling, commissioning, curating. No vs yes. Boundaries vs limitations. Fully existing as a whole self in community vs blowing off favors to people.
Confidence, was another weird word that struck me. The end result of this process is that we should be able to move forward confidently in the next steps on our path. With all the other mush about what we should expect - it won't happen in a certain time frame, you can't determine in advance what it will be, you may not have a single illumination at the end or indeed any, blah blah blah, then the idea that we can expect confidence seemed not to fit with that. Confidence and Confirm start the same, do they have similar roots? Confirmation - it's the name of a big step in a Christian/Episcopalian life, it's also the name for getting more support for what you already think.
That's sort of comforting, that the end result might be confirmation of something you already feel, supporting evidence, removal of doubt. So, you don't have to come up with a new future from whole cloth, you should be braced for dramatic reversals or orthogonal zags, but maybe you'll just know that you know. Test what you feel and find that it is strong and holds up. That possibility is exciting to me.
(Somehow I feel that I will only be driving back to my chosen career from practical necessity, that it doesn't have enough to it (enough authentic voice, right? working in a corporate context) that it could be the thing calling. This is my suspicion, and we'll let things roll and see if I'm right)
Another participant sounds like she's also struggling with pursuing gift vs selling out to practicality, and it was interesting to hear that we both use the job of Bank Teller as the symbol of the worst, most empty and meaningless way to spend ones time. No insult intended to all the wonderful bank tellers out there, who have served me throughout my life. But seriously, you're basically all being replaced by machines now, right?
I wonder, though, if her struggle is with doing what she has been told she should do, vs having ambition.
I should schedule another walk to maybe pursue these things with her further. Chica, you have permission to be/become a big deal!
More on Exercise Fear
Again I catch myself procrastinating instead of starting my intended morning exercise routine, again I feel a strong tug and longing to do something fun instead, something that has to do with words and communication, and not with moving around and pushing my body past comfort.
Today I recognize in the procrastination a version of the fear I feel when I have to start a long or hard project. The second type of fear is always much more acute and debilitating. Imagine having a long report to write, or a presentation to complete, or some kind of dry business task that will require looking lots of tedious numbers up in different places, that kind of thing, you estimate that it will take about four hours, but might go to five or six, and you have four hours cleared, and you simply cannot make yourself sit down and start. That fear is stronger and more paralyzing, but I recognized an echo of it in my dawdling today, and I recognized it as a fear of failing. What if I start, and do it, but I fail?
Why would I have a fear of failing at an exercize routine that is completely under my own grown-up control, chosen by me, being done in my own house, observed by no one, accountable to no one, no grades, no having to do this as a prerequisite for something else I really want to do later. I have a perfectly fit, young enough, fully functioning body to do it with. Why is this not an occasion to live in and experience that body, in motion, rather than some test to which I don't feel up? (that I don't feel up to) (up to which I don't feel)
The answer is easy and stunningly obvious. Gym class was a perpetual opportunity to fail, for me, back in elementary school. I really couldn't do anything. I wasn't good with dribbling basketballs. I couldn't climb the rope, really at all, not even one hand over hand. I couldn't do a pull up. I couldn't do a handstand or a flip. I shook too hard to balance on the balance beam. I was slow on the obstacle courses. I made the boys afraid when we did square dancing, and I had a wart on my hand that I was terrified the would feel, and be grossed out by, and view me as an agent of contagion. I can't think of a single success at gym class. Well, one - in about fourth grade, somehow I decided to work on Long Jump, and I got good enough to win a Fourth Place ribbon at our end of year field day. Good enough to place, which astonished me. You'd think I would have learned the lesson that when you work on something and practice, you can improve and realize success. I remember thinking that very thing out loud to myself at the time. But I didn't really go on in sports.
Actually, I did find that I had an aptitude for downhill skiing, and in my first lesson got to go up the lift with the kids who were getting it, rather than the kids who were still working on Snowplow. I was the only girl in this advanced group. The instructor flirted with me shamelessly, which probably added incentive (I remember riding up the lift sharing the chair with him, hanging high over the pine trees frosted with snow highlighted by the sun from the bright blue sky, and he burst into the song - "What a day this has been, what a rare mood I'm in! Why it's almost like being in love.") I skiied a number of times since then, a handful of times, but I always picked it right up. I even had some lessons at one point to tune up my turning ability. There is a real possibility that I will never ski again, never have the opportunity, and also that I can't do it now because of my ankle injury, but I did do it, and I can do it really well, and I really liked it.
If playing a musical instrument is a kind of athletic skill, then I have always shown an aptitude for that as well. I was a pretty competent cello player, it was always just assumed that I would be first chair. I didn't work on it enough to ever be very musical, but I could do it. I'm a pretty okay singer, because I can read and can match pitches. I had a pretty quick aptitude for drums because I have good rhythm. I was nearly a guitar prodigy, for a while there, because it just came easily and I immersed myself in it so thoroughly. I plateaued and didn't get beyond beginner prodigy level, but that part had a very quick curve. If these are types of athleticism, I was good at those right away, those count as successes.
Morning calisthenics to increase strength and cardio fitness, those are in the wheelhouse of the things I'm terrible at. Like baseball - on the last two days of school when we went outside to play softball, many times they had to bring the stand out to balance the wiffle ball so I could even connect with it, and my friends would gather around 3rd base and shout together, Easy Out! One year I was sick on the last day of school and did not have to attend softball day, and that remains one of the great strokes of good fortune I can recall in my life.
You know, when I think back on all those things I couldn't do in grade school gym class, why were they having us do any of those things at all? What kid needs to be able to do ten pull ups, or climb a rope to the gym ceiling? Are these basic abilities that every functioning human being needs? No. No! So why weren't there any smaller, intermediate goals, achievable goals, presented to me and praised and celebrated? What was that all about? Hey, gym teachers of my past, a message from the Ninja Warriors of my present - Everybody falls! Where was that zen acceptance, that repetition, that additional chance, that acknowledgement of Personal Best, that celebration of what I could do rather than only opportunities to be judged on what I couldn't? Where was that, "Wow! You're awesome! You're amazing! Good job!" that I now get for even the most rudimentary musical performance in a teaching setting, and watch all others give and get the same?
There was one day in High School, I had signed up for tennis, but since the weather was bad regularly that year, we had to stay inside and instead play volleyball, a sport for which I never in a million years would have signed up to voluntarily play. After many weeks of this, we were still inside, and lined up for a drill to practice serving. My arm was already puffed up and red. I was trying to look down and be invisible. When it was my turn at the front of the line, the ball would go everywhere, random, uncontrollable directions. Then I'd bow my head and walk around to the end of the line again, and brace myself to endure whatever time was left in the class, when it would stop and I could go back to the arenas of my success - AP English, speech team practice. Back in line, bravely braced to endure. Then the teacher, Ms. Luce, came over and gently pulled me aside, and said, "Has anyone ever actually showed you how to do this?" I almost didn't understand the question, because gym class had never come with instructions, just impossible challenges and the idea that we all instinctively would know how to achieve them. I shook my head no. She pulled me to the side, to the boundary area outside the basketball court outline on the floor, and explained to me how the ball was bouncing of the surface that I made, and how that geometry was steering it, and she showed me where to hit on my hand so it wouldn't hurt, and she stayed with me tossing the ball my way until I was getting it.
That is the only, only, one, single time I can remember receiving any instruction or coaching in a gym class in my whole life. Thank you, Miss Luce, for that.
How could my life be different if I'd had her for every gym class, every week of my childhood? There is no changing what has gone before. But I can change now. I can restore these past gaps, and I can coach and nurture myself now, in the way that will help me, what, improve, flourish, find hidden talents, improve my personal best, better live in my body, become a Ninja?
Addendum:
I only just unearthed this early traumatic cause of my current exercise aversion, but look! I am not alone: http://www.sbnation.com/2015/7/31/9038201/the-sad-sad-stories-of-the-presidential-fitness-test
And for reference, here are the standards. Looking at the row for a 17 year old girl, there is no way I could achieve these today. 34 sit ups within a minute? a 10 minute mile?
If to win the red badge you had to be in the top 50th percentile, that means half of kids also failed at this test. Why did anyone think that was a good idea?
Today I recognize in the procrastination a version of the fear I feel when I have to start a long or hard project. The second type of fear is always much more acute and debilitating. Imagine having a long report to write, or a presentation to complete, or some kind of dry business task that will require looking lots of tedious numbers up in different places, that kind of thing, you estimate that it will take about four hours, but might go to five or six, and you have four hours cleared, and you simply cannot make yourself sit down and start. That fear is stronger and more paralyzing, but I recognized an echo of it in my dawdling today, and I recognized it as a fear of failing. What if I start, and do it, but I fail?
Why would I have a fear of failing at an exercize routine that is completely under my own grown-up control, chosen by me, being done in my own house, observed by no one, accountable to no one, no grades, no having to do this as a prerequisite for something else I really want to do later. I have a perfectly fit, young enough, fully functioning body to do it with. Why is this not an occasion to live in and experience that body, in motion, rather than some test to which I don't feel up? (that I don't feel up to) (up to which I don't feel)
The answer is easy and stunningly obvious. Gym class was a perpetual opportunity to fail, for me, back in elementary school. I really couldn't do anything. I wasn't good with dribbling basketballs. I couldn't climb the rope, really at all, not even one hand over hand. I couldn't do a pull up. I couldn't do a handstand or a flip. I shook too hard to balance on the balance beam. I was slow on the obstacle courses. I made the boys afraid when we did square dancing, and I had a wart on my hand that I was terrified the would feel, and be grossed out by, and view me as an agent of contagion. I can't think of a single success at gym class. Well, one - in about fourth grade, somehow I decided to work on Long Jump, and I got good enough to win a Fourth Place ribbon at our end of year field day. Good enough to place, which astonished me. You'd think I would have learned the lesson that when you work on something and practice, you can improve and realize success. I remember thinking that very thing out loud to myself at the time. But I didn't really go on in sports.
Actually, I did find that I had an aptitude for downhill skiing, and in my first lesson got to go up the lift with the kids who were getting it, rather than the kids who were still working on Snowplow. I was the only girl in this advanced group. The instructor flirted with me shamelessly, which probably added incentive (I remember riding up the lift sharing the chair with him, hanging high over the pine trees frosted with snow highlighted by the sun from the bright blue sky, and he burst into the song - "What a day this has been, what a rare mood I'm in! Why it's almost like being in love.") I skiied a number of times since then, a handful of times, but I always picked it right up. I even had some lessons at one point to tune up my turning ability. There is a real possibility that I will never ski again, never have the opportunity, and also that I can't do it now because of my ankle injury, but I did do it, and I can do it really well, and I really liked it.
If playing a musical instrument is a kind of athletic skill, then I have always shown an aptitude for that as well. I was a pretty competent cello player, it was always just assumed that I would be first chair. I didn't work on it enough to ever be very musical, but I could do it. I'm a pretty okay singer, because I can read and can match pitches. I had a pretty quick aptitude for drums because I have good rhythm. I was nearly a guitar prodigy, for a while there, because it just came easily and I immersed myself in it so thoroughly. I plateaued and didn't get beyond beginner prodigy level, but that part had a very quick curve. If these are types of athleticism, I was good at those right away, those count as successes.
Morning calisthenics to increase strength and cardio fitness, those are in the wheelhouse of the things I'm terrible at. Like baseball - on the last two days of school when we went outside to play softball, many times they had to bring the stand out to balance the wiffle ball so I could even connect with it, and my friends would gather around 3rd base and shout together, Easy Out! One year I was sick on the last day of school and did not have to attend softball day, and that remains one of the great strokes of good fortune I can recall in my life.
You know, when I think back on all those things I couldn't do in grade school gym class, why were they having us do any of those things at all? What kid needs to be able to do ten pull ups, or climb a rope to the gym ceiling? Are these basic abilities that every functioning human being needs? No. No! So why weren't there any smaller, intermediate goals, achievable goals, presented to me and praised and celebrated? What was that all about? Hey, gym teachers of my past, a message from the Ninja Warriors of my present - Everybody falls! Where was that zen acceptance, that repetition, that additional chance, that acknowledgement of Personal Best, that celebration of what I could do rather than only opportunities to be judged on what I couldn't? Where was that, "Wow! You're awesome! You're amazing! Good job!" that I now get for even the most rudimentary musical performance in a teaching setting, and watch all others give and get the same?
There was one day in High School, I had signed up for tennis, but since the weather was bad regularly that year, we had to stay inside and instead play volleyball, a sport for which I never in a million years would have signed up to voluntarily play. After many weeks of this, we were still inside, and lined up for a drill to practice serving. My arm was already puffed up and red. I was trying to look down and be invisible. When it was my turn at the front of the line, the ball would go everywhere, random, uncontrollable directions. Then I'd bow my head and walk around to the end of the line again, and brace myself to endure whatever time was left in the class, when it would stop and I could go back to the arenas of my success - AP English, speech team practice. Back in line, bravely braced to endure. Then the teacher, Ms. Luce, came over and gently pulled me aside, and said, "Has anyone ever actually showed you how to do this?" I almost didn't understand the question, because gym class had never come with instructions, just impossible challenges and the idea that we all instinctively would know how to achieve them. I shook my head no. She pulled me to the side, to the boundary area outside the basketball court outline on the floor, and explained to me how the ball was bouncing of the surface that I made, and how that geometry was steering it, and she showed me where to hit on my hand so it wouldn't hurt, and she stayed with me tossing the ball my way until I was getting it.
That is the only, only, one, single time I can remember receiving any instruction or coaching in a gym class in my whole life. Thank you, Miss Luce, for that.
How could my life be different if I'd had her for every gym class, every week of my childhood? There is no changing what has gone before. But I can change now. I can restore these past gaps, and I can coach and nurture myself now, in the way that will help me, what, improve, flourish, find hidden talents, improve my personal best, better live in my body, become a Ninja?
Addendum:
I only just unearthed this early traumatic cause of my current exercise aversion, but look! I am not alone: http://www.sbnation.com/2015/7/31/9038201/the-sad-sad-stories-of-the-presidential-fitness-test
And for reference, here are the standards. Looking at the row for a 17 year old girl, there is no way I could achieve these today. 34 sit ups within a minute? a 10 minute mile?
If to win the red badge you had to be in the top 50th percentile, that means half of kids also failed at this test. Why did anyone think that was a good idea?
Friday, September 23, 2016
Gratitude and Ideas
Yesterday I ran across a post, via a link on Facebook, about setting up a positive morning routine, which is very timely because yesterday (or was it Wednesday) I was plotting out one for myself. (I have found over time that I do best when the routine is fixed, and set in a certain order, because I save time in between activities making decisions about what to do next.)
This post suggested spending some time Free Writing, which is more or less the Morning Pages idea, which I have already been trying to do, although not immediately on waking and while still in bed, because I split my time between my house and my boyfriend's house and often wake up with someone else, and then need to get dressed and get home before I can take on any activities. I suppose I could probably adjust that, but so far the Breakfast Pages are working well enough.
And also, subpoint, the Morning Pages are more or less a letter to myself, whereas I know that Free Writing is a different thing. When I have tried free writing in the past, it turns out to be poetry, in the sense that it is all about the sounds of the words, or maybe I should say percussion, because the semantic meaning becomes irrelevant, I just put together strings of consonants and internal rhymes and rhythms. I should really try that, it's a flow from a different part of the brain.
But beyond the Free Writing/Morning Pages idea, the post also recommended two additional things. First, they recommended writing a short Gratitude list, a list of things for which one is grateful, as a great way to start the day in positivity and a stance of appreciation to the world. Three or four or five things, bulleted. Then, after the Free Writing, they recommended you write a list of 10 Ideas. They said this helps you become an idea generator. The author reported that he came up with 10 ideas for Amazon and called and sold them to them, and came up with an idea for an online series of classes and posted then and generated all kinds of leads for his business. YMMV, as they say.
In fact, I don't think I have any problem with being an Idea Generator. My problem is probably too many ideas, and a lack of focus and practical action. "Do the next right thing" is probably better advice for me.
But nonetheless, I wrote out both lists this morning, my Gratitude List and my Idea List. Gratitude was all about the health and well-being of my immediate family. Probably no surprise there. I worry about all of them, constantly, but right now, so far so good, knock wood. The Idea list, I decided to write around the notion of a Feeling of Abundance. This is another exercise from the Artist's Way book, and her example is to buy oneself a punnet of raspberries, so that's always my go-to accessible luxury, and so item 1 on my list this morning was Raspberries. But I was surprised how many of the other items had to do with cleaning and sorting and tidying and inventorying what I have. I spend exactly zero time on this, because it benefits no one but me, being inside of my own home behind closed doors and within these walls, and also because it will bring no immediate profit. But maybe I should build in some more time for that, especially if it makes me feel more wealthy and secure.
Any other suggestions for things to add to the morning routine, please feel free to comment below.
This post suggested spending some time Free Writing, which is more or less the Morning Pages idea, which I have already been trying to do, although not immediately on waking and while still in bed, because I split my time between my house and my boyfriend's house and often wake up with someone else, and then need to get dressed and get home before I can take on any activities. I suppose I could probably adjust that, but so far the Breakfast Pages are working well enough.
And also, subpoint, the Morning Pages are more or less a letter to myself, whereas I know that Free Writing is a different thing. When I have tried free writing in the past, it turns out to be poetry, in the sense that it is all about the sounds of the words, or maybe I should say percussion, because the semantic meaning becomes irrelevant, I just put together strings of consonants and internal rhymes and rhythms. I should really try that, it's a flow from a different part of the brain.
But beyond the Free Writing/Morning Pages idea, the post also recommended two additional things. First, they recommended writing a short Gratitude list, a list of things for which one is grateful, as a great way to start the day in positivity and a stance of appreciation to the world. Three or four or five things, bulleted. Then, after the Free Writing, they recommended you write a list of 10 Ideas. They said this helps you become an idea generator. The author reported that he came up with 10 ideas for Amazon and called and sold them to them, and came up with an idea for an online series of classes and posted then and generated all kinds of leads for his business. YMMV, as they say.
In fact, I don't think I have any problem with being an Idea Generator. My problem is probably too many ideas, and a lack of focus and practical action. "Do the next right thing" is probably better advice for me.
But nonetheless, I wrote out both lists this morning, my Gratitude List and my Idea List. Gratitude was all about the health and well-being of my immediate family. Probably no surprise there. I worry about all of them, constantly, but right now, so far so good, knock wood. The Idea list, I decided to write around the notion of a Feeling of Abundance. This is another exercise from the Artist's Way book, and her example is to buy oneself a punnet of raspberries, so that's always my go-to accessible luxury, and so item 1 on my list this morning was Raspberries. But I was surprised how many of the other items had to do with cleaning and sorting and tidying and inventorying what I have. I spend exactly zero time on this, because it benefits no one but me, being inside of my own home behind closed doors and within these walls, and also because it will bring no immediate profit. But maybe I should build in some more time for that, especially if it makes me feel more wealthy and secure.
Any other suggestions for things to add to the morning routine, please feel free to comment below.
Thursday, September 22, 2016
On Listening
The theme of Listening has shown up in a variety of arenas in my life recently.
The most obvious was of course in the Deep Listening Walks, because they focus on heard experience. They are a version of Mindfulness exercise. They ask you to be attentive to the present, to the entirely of the soundscape that surrounds you. You don't produce sound, you don't compose sounds, you don't think about anything but present sound, you open yourself up to the immediate aural experience, immerse in it, explore it, adventure in it, be in it.
But the same theme came up in the Labyrinth Walk. You'd think that would be more about journeying, but Missy, our facilitator, suggested that we Listen during the walk, with just the same instruction as in the Deep Listening Walks, to the birds, to the wind, to the surrounding soundscape, to our own feet walking, to our neighbors' feet walking. But beyond that, the Labyrinth Walk, when done in a Christian context, also included the element of listening for what God is telling you. This is not done with the ears. The meditative state of the walking, the arrival at the center, the sending up of prayers (in our case, in bubble form), all prepare you, quite inside, to receive messages, or Calls, or reassurances or whatever.
And then at church, I'm about to start a six-month program that is all about discernment. The term "Discernment" comes up a lot in Christian contexts, especially when a parish is going through a search for a new Rector, as we just were. Being in the middle of a Job Search - a Search - it has been very interesting to me to contrast the language. The job seeker searches, goes out, looks, tries to find, tries to uncover, has to go out of there way, join groups of people in new communities, doing things that are currently hidden, has to find a way in, uncover, unlock, find. The ordained Priest who is looking for a new job instead goes through a period of Discernment, trying to clearly see what is already there, right in front of them. The Search Committee at a church looking for a new priest also describes their activity as Discernment. The process, which took more than a year, involved looking inward, including the whole parish, to find out who we are, who we have been, who we want to be, what we want, what we need. Then when the committee received the candidate's applications, they had to discern who would be on the short list. In the interviews, we had to discern who we were called to call, as it were. Not choose, not pick, but see, but hear.
In this series of workshops in which I'm about to participate, we're focusing on discernment with a small "d". It's not the formal process one undergoes when called to ordination, as a Deacon or Priest in the Church. It's for anyone who is trying to figure out a path. Not seek a path, but discern it. So this is all about listening too. Being present to what's already here, quieting oneself inside, and trying to see and hear what's there, right in front of us.
Meanwhile, the Wisconsin Department of Workforce Development requires me to continue Searching, and applying for at least four traditionally described jobs per week. So, inevitably, both processes will be going on at once, for me, for a while here.
The most obvious was of course in the Deep Listening Walks, because they focus on heard experience. They are a version of Mindfulness exercise. They ask you to be attentive to the present, to the entirely of the soundscape that surrounds you. You don't produce sound, you don't compose sounds, you don't think about anything but present sound, you open yourself up to the immediate aural experience, immerse in it, explore it, adventure in it, be in it.
But the same theme came up in the Labyrinth Walk. You'd think that would be more about journeying, but Missy, our facilitator, suggested that we Listen during the walk, with just the same instruction as in the Deep Listening Walks, to the birds, to the wind, to the surrounding soundscape, to our own feet walking, to our neighbors' feet walking. But beyond that, the Labyrinth Walk, when done in a Christian context, also included the element of listening for what God is telling you. This is not done with the ears. The meditative state of the walking, the arrival at the center, the sending up of prayers (in our case, in bubble form), all prepare you, quite inside, to receive messages, or Calls, or reassurances or whatever.
And then at church, I'm about to start a six-month program that is all about discernment. The term "Discernment" comes up a lot in Christian contexts, especially when a parish is going through a search for a new Rector, as we just were. Being in the middle of a Job Search - a Search - it has been very interesting to me to contrast the language. The job seeker searches, goes out, looks, tries to find, tries to uncover, has to go out of there way, join groups of people in new communities, doing things that are currently hidden, has to find a way in, uncover, unlock, find. The ordained Priest who is looking for a new job instead goes through a period of Discernment, trying to clearly see what is already there, right in front of them. The Search Committee at a church looking for a new priest also describes their activity as Discernment. The process, which took more than a year, involved looking inward, including the whole parish, to find out who we are, who we have been, who we want to be, what we want, what we need. Then when the committee received the candidate's applications, they had to discern who would be on the short list. In the interviews, we had to discern who we were called to call, as it were. Not choose, not pick, but see, but hear.
In this series of workshops in which I'm about to participate, we're focusing on discernment with a small "d". It's not the formal process one undergoes when called to ordination, as a Deacon or Priest in the Church. It's for anyone who is trying to figure out a path. Not seek a path, but discern it. So this is all about listening too. Being present to what's already here, quieting oneself inside, and trying to see and hear what's there, right in front of us.
Meanwhile, the Wisconsin Department of Workforce Development requires me to continue Searching, and applying for at least four traditionally described jobs per week. So, inevitably, both processes will be going on at once, for me, for a while here.
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
The Voices in My Head When I Exercise
Don't hurt yourself.
I'm trying to establish a morning routine for myself. Because I've been spending so much time in the house, and specifically at the computer, I know I need to include some movement, to ward off neck and back problems, to keep my injured ankle flexible and strong, to burn off some stress and keep my mind focussed, to help with sleep.
After much trial and experimentation, I have discovered that the 7 Minute Workout works very well for me. I find it challenging, and it includes a variety of strength and cardio activities, but no one could ever argue that you couldn't fit it into your schedule, because everyone always has 7 spare minutes, plus having to do a thing for 30 seconds is very doable - 30 seconds is a management projection into time when you're doing something that's causing you pain or discomfort, especially when the narrator says "Halfway there!", so really you only have to exert mental fortitude for 15 seconds, which really should be doable for anyone.
However, I do find myself procrastinating. Doing everything else in my morning routine except the 7 Minute Workout. Grabbing my phone and getting lost in Facebook until I'm out of time and have to stop and go to some other appointment. Sitting down at the computer and going down the job application rabbit hole which can eat up a whole day.
I know I feel better when I get the 7 Minute Workout routine done. A few weeks ago when I was managing to do it probably three times per week, I felt like my arms, my posture, my legs were starting to be in much better shape. Strong, maybe even looking better. I felt that bright clear feeling in your brain that you get when you are getting some cardio in regularly (admittedly, we were also in the final glorious days of summer with bright sun and green grass and blue skies, and many civic activities outdoors, so that may have also played a part). However, the motivation of thinking how good I'll feel afterward has still not been working to get me to do the routine.
During the blocks, during the mental conversation with myself when I'm thinking of doing the 7 Minute Workout but then deciding not to, if I listen to the voices inside my head, they are warnings of danger. "Don't hurt yourself." "Be careful." "Don't do too much."
This is only a 7 Minute Workout, with activities of 30 seconds each. Probably the most unfit person in the world, with the worst chronic conditions, would be able to do this workout all the way through without stopping or cheating on any of the exercises, and would be perfectly fine.
But the voices in my head are very concerned that I might die, or do myself some permanent debilitating injury like a head injury, or losing a limb, or some kind of asthma blackout that causes long term brain damage, or a stroke.
The voices are the loudest in my head during an exercise called "Chair Step-Ups", which if my sister ever found out I was doing I'm sure she would make me stop. In this exercise, you step up on a chair - in my case, a folding metal chair that I bought from Target a few years ago, with fabric padding on the seat. It's sitting on the carpet in my attic, away from the low gabled roof line and the ceiling fan. In the exercise, you step up on the chair, then step one foot down on the floor and back up, so you are raising yourself up basically with the thigh of the leg that's still on the chair, then alternating sides, for 30 seconds. It is fun, and thrilling, because you really are visually up higher in the room, and you got there under your own steam. It is especially dangerous, because last year I fell on the last step of a staircase, broke my foot just under the ankle bone in three places, was in a cast and crutches for six weeks and a walking boot for three, and frightened to death my sister, who was with me when I fell and too me to the emergency room, and still has nightmares about me falling down the stairs. When I go to do the Chair Step Ups exercise, I hear her voice in my head, worrying, suggesting that maybe I don't do it. The chair could be wobbly, or slip off the carpet, or fall over, or just collapse. I could lose my balance, which would be a fall from a very high height. I might tangle my feet up, and fall and hit my head, and die, or sustain permanent brain injury, or break something else like my arm or my neck. All of these thoughts makes the Chair Step Up more thrilling.
And I do feel a sense of accomplishment when I finish it, in fact throughout the 7 Minute Workout. I am doing something scary, and difficult, and surviving it. The Wall Sit is another one - you spend 30 seconds supporting yourself with your back pressed against a wall, knees bent and legs at a 90 degree angle. This should not be possible, so I am always astonished and proud when I can actually do it, for the whole time. You feel it, don't get me wrong, in the quads, you start to wobble maybe a bit at the end, but usually I can stay in the position until the workout narrator says "3, 2, 1, complete!" This should not be possible for a woman as old as I am, and should not be possible for someone as unathletic throughout her life as I am, but it is possible.
The images that inspire me, once I actually start the workout and get going, are the American Ninjas. They train on crazy tasks like the Salmon Ladder and rope climbs, in home built gyms, and then compete to do their personal best at City competitions and then in the Finals in Las Vegas, which we just watched last week. They are strong and swift and graceful. They trust the strength of their limbs to carry them through these tasks. Many of them say it's fun! It's adults playing on a giant jungle gym, basically. They compete with such joy. The commentary is always just about each participant's personal best, never pitting them against each other. The rivals all train together and cheer for each other. The favorites, many of them, were disqualified from falling on one of the first challenges, but in the post-game interviews, they smiled, and said, "Everybody falls." They trained all year, and it was disappointing, and they disappointed their fans and family members who were there to cheer them on, but they will be back next year. Everybody falls, and there's nothing wrong with falling, but they still train to achieve their personal best.
When I'm nearing the 30th second of Wall Sitting, I feel like a Ninja. I am pushing my leg muscles to grow stronger, and support me in this crazy activity that shouldn't be possible, but I am doing it, bravely and with joy and fun, like a Ninja.
There were many stories of marathon people too, recently, because a big local marathon just took place and I had several friends and Facebook acquaintances run in it. But that seems like something that really is dangerous and silly, I don't have any desire to overcome my fear of running a marathon. The 7 Minute Workout is enough for me, and makes me feel like a Ninja. The example of the Ninjas inspires me to ignore or contradict the voices of fear and reluctance in my head, and just do it. This morning, I did so, and got it done.
I'm trying to establish a morning routine for myself. Because I've been spending so much time in the house, and specifically at the computer, I know I need to include some movement, to ward off neck and back problems, to keep my injured ankle flexible and strong, to burn off some stress and keep my mind focussed, to help with sleep.
After much trial and experimentation, I have discovered that the 7 Minute Workout works very well for me. I find it challenging, and it includes a variety of strength and cardio activities, but no one could ever argue that you couldn't fit it into your schedule, because everyone always has 7 spare minutes, plus having to do a thing for 30 seconds is very doable - 30 seconds is a management projection into time when you're doing something that's causing you pain or discomfort, especially when the narrator says "Halfway there!", so really you only have to exert mental fortitude for 15 seconds, which really should be doable for anyone.
However, I do find myself procrastinating. Doing everything else in my morning routine except the 7 Minute Workout. Grabbing my phone and getting lost in Facebook until I'm out of time and have to stop and go to some other appointment. Sitting down at the computer and going down the job application rabbit hole which can eat up a whole day.
I know I feel better when I get the 7 Minute Workout routine done. A few weeks ago when I was managing to do it probably three times per week, I felt like my arms, my posture, my legs were starting to be in much better shape. Strong, maybe even looking better. I felt that bright clear feeling in your brain that you get when you are getting some cardio in regularly (admittedly, we were also in the final glorious days of summer with bright sun and green grass and blue skies, and many civic activities outdoors, so that may have also played a part). However, the motivation of thinking how good I'll feel afterward has still not been working to get me to do the routine.
During the blocks, during the mental conversation with myself when I'm thinking of doing the 7 Minute Workout but then deciding not to, if I listen to the voices inside my head, they are warnings of danger. "Don't hurt yourself." "Be careful." "Don't do too much."
This is only a 7 Minute Workout, with activities of 30 seconds each. Probably the most unfit person in the world, with the worst chronic conditions, would be able to do this workout all the way through without stopping or cheating on any of the exercises, and would be perfectly fine.
But the voices in my head are very concerned that I might die, or do myself some permanent debilitating injury like a head injury, or losing a limb, or some kind of asthma blackout that causes long term brain damage, or a stroke.
The voices are the loudest in my head during an exercise called "Chair Step-Ups", which if my sister ever found out I was doing I'm sure she would make me stop. In this exercise, you step up on a chair - in my case, a folding metal chair that I bought from Target a few years ago, with fabric padding on the seat. It's sitting on the carpet in my attic, away from the low gabled roof line and the ceiling fan. In the exercise, you step up on the chair, then step one foot down on the floor and back up, so you are raising yourself up basically with the thigh of the leg that's still on the chair, then alternating sides, for 30 seconds. It is fun, and thrilling, because you really are visually up higher in the room, and you got there under your own steam. It is especially dangerous, because last year I fell on the last step of a staircase, broke my foot just under the ankle bone in three places, was in a cast and crutches for six weeks and a walking boot for three, and frightened to death my sister, who was with me when I fell and too me to the emergency room, and still has nightmares about me falling down the stairs. When I go to do the Chair Step Ups exercise, I hear her voice in my head, worrying, suggesting that maybe I don't do it. The chair could be wobbly, or slip off the carpet, or fall over, or just collapse. I could lose my balance, which would be a fall from a very high height. I might tangle my feet up, and fall and hit my head, and die, or sustain permanent brain injury, or break something else like my arm or my neck. All of these thoughts makes the Chair Step Up more thrilling.
And I do feel a sense of accomplishment when I finish it, in fact throughout the 7 Minute Workout. I am doing something scary, and difficult, and surviving it. The Wall Sit is another one - you spend 30 seconds supporting yourself with your back pressed against a wall, knees bent and legs at a 90 degree angle. This should not be possible, so I am always astonished and proud when I can actually do it, for the whole time. You feel it, don't get me wrong, in the quads, you start to wobble maybe a bit at the end, but usually I can stay in the position until the workout narrator says "3, 2, 1, complete!" This should not be possible for a woman as old as I am, and should not be possible for someone as unathletic throughout her life as I am, but it is possible.
The images that inspire me, once I actually start the workout and get going, are the American Ninjas. They train on crazy tasks like the Salmon Ladder and rope climbs, in home built gyms, and then compete to do their personal best at City competitions and then in the Finals in Las Vegas, which we just watched last week. They are strong and swift and graceful. They trust the strength of their limbs to carry them through these tasks. Many of them say it's fun! It's adults playing on a giant jungle gym, basically. They compete with such joy. The commentary is always just about each participant's personal best, never pitting them against each other. The rivals all train together and cheer for each other. The favorites, many of them, were disqualified from falling on one of the first challenges, but in the post-game interviews, they smiled, and said, "Everybody falls." They trained all year, and it was disappointing, and they disappointed their fans and family members who were there to cheer them on, but they will be back next year. Everybody falls, and there's nothing wrong with falling, but they still train to achieve their personal best.
When I'm nearing the 30th second of Wall Sitting, I feel like a Ninja. I am pushing my leg muscles to grow stronger, and support me in this crazy activity that shouldn't be possible, but I am doing it, bravely and with joy and fun, like a Ninja.
There were many stories of marathon people too, recently, because a big local marathon just took place and I had several friends and Facebook acquaintances run in it. But that seems like something that really is dangerous and silly, I don't have any desire to overcome my fear of running a marathon. The 7 Minute Workout is enough for me, and makes me feel like a Ninja. The example of the Ninjas inspires me to ignore or contradict the voices of fear and reluctance in my head, and just do it. This morning, I did so, and got it done.
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
Three Postures Toward Three Kinds of Time
Recently I've been thinking about models of life, and thinking about the tension between life as existing, mindfully and with attention, in the "now", and life as a linear journey or path, as depicted by the labyrinth.
Then, a few years ago, I was very much absorbed in the notion of Story, of Personal Story, of the mental act of shaping one's life into a narrative.
Which is the best model of life - a point, a line, or a Story?
Thinking more about time, I now think the different models each fit a different segment.
The present, the "now", the universal context, the collection of sensations - sight, sound, smell, taste, feeling - the only time on which one can act, the only time in which one can act, can actively live. This is like a point, or a single environment or totality. A "you" built of sensations, in context of a universe as it is, in one moment of time, of history. The practices that bring you in aware contact with this real moment as it exists are things like meditation, relaxation practices, massage, Deep Listening, mindful eating, slow walking, labyrinth walking, deep breathing exercises. These are beautiful practices that can leave you feeling clean, bright, centered, whole, with senses heightened, with a feeling of love and appreciation for the universe and all in it. Those are all great things.
But there is also the past. Existentialist-like, you have lived a series of moments already, up to this point, a string of choices and actions that chain together, like a chain, like a necklace, like a sidewalk, like road, like the turns of the labyrinth behind you. These are real. There are facts of the matter about these. You can't change them, but you can remember them. Memories are the only source of immortality - if you/your actions/your works/your creations live on in the memories of other people. That's real. That's bigger than you, bigger than your life. Existentialist-like, the meaning of your particular life gets constituted by these, moment by moment but wholly when you cease living/acting/making choices. The line, the path, the road behind you, the distance you've come are good images for time past.
The future, the moments ahead, are not yet actual. No facts of the matter pertain to those moments yet. There's a road - is there a road? There is a road sign. We have reasons to believe that time will continue to move forward, linearly, at a speed of one second per second as it were. (We don't know for sure that it will, do we, Mr. Hume? But we have good reason to believe.) We can imagine the future, though. The near future will be made out of very much of the fabric of the present moment. We can't stop it, either. We know there are choices and actions out there to make, but we know also that there are forces and circumstances that will impinge upon us in a way that we don't choose, that we can't control. We can't know. We can't know for certain what will happen because knowledge requires fact, but we can believe. We can imagine. We can hold some things fixed and other things mutable, and we can run the equations and we can imagine futures. Future time is the subject of Story.
So, there's no reason to argue among the models. Argument probably emerges when someone tries to apply one posture to an inappropriate segment of Time. If you live your present like a line, in memory, like the model of Inauthenticity that Sartre describes, acting bound by some past definition of yourself, you are missing out on the sensations and experiences (and opportunities to act and create yourself) of the current moment. If you decide you're going to live wholly immersed in the present mindful moment, you will never get anything done. One model does not fit all. All have their role.
And, like a labyrinth, all lives have all three types of Time. We live as creatures of time, stationed in the now, looking backward, moving forward, one second per second.
Then, a few years ago, I was very much absorbed in the notion of Story, of Personal Story, of the mental act of shaping one's life into a narrative.
Which is the best model of life - a point, a line, or a Story?
Thinking more about time, I now think the different models each fit a different segment.
 |
| The Now |
 |
| The Past |
 |
| The Future |
So, there's no reason to argue among the models. Argument probably emerges when someone tries to apply one posture to an inappropriate segment of Time. If you live your present like a line, in memory, like the model of Inauthenticity that Sartre describes, acting bound by some past definition of yourself, you are missing out on the sensations and experiences (and opportunities to act and create yourself) of the current moment. If you decide you're going to live wholly immersed in the present mindful moment, you will never get anything done. One model does not fit all. All have their role.
And, like a labyrinth, all lives have all three types of Time. We live as creatures of time, stationed in the now, looking backward, moving forward, one second per second.
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