Roger Cohen's column here is a validation of sorts for whatever I was thinking when I wrote "Nothing: Part 17"
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/23/opinion/23iht-edcohen.html?em
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Nothing: Part 17
Have been thinking about polarized opinions. It doesn't take too long for two camps to form within seconds of the looming of a new issue on the horizon. The opinions are sclerotic at birth with no room for consideration, deference or deliberation. As if the infant thought looked into the eyes of Medusa at birth.
I came across this Schopenhauer quote in the "Train of Thought" series that appear in NY subway trains:
"Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision for the limits of the world."
Funny how stray thoughts tend to get validated in this fashion.
Wonder why it's so difficult for us to acknowledge the existence of other points of view. Why is it so hard to agree to disagree instead of forcing our opinions down other throats and always trying to find converts and followers? This same sense of wonder extends to our conscious efforts to declare ourselves a brand. We all have virtual soapboxes to climb these days and we want to shout out our "brands".
The word "wondering" often hints at a setting apart of oneself. Even though I am using inclusive pronouns to declare that I am as guilty of it all as everyone else. The use of the word "guilty" in the previous sentence further betrays my prejudice and lack of non-judgemental impartiality. I wonder about my own motivations. Stating my own opinion about the entrenched opinions of others is making me feel uncomfortably opinionated.
All this makes me reexamine the old ideal of having the strength of one's convictions. Maybe the entrenchment of opinions is a consequence of being rigidly ideal-bound, of fighting a perception of spinelessness and amorality, of being seen as someone who dwells in grey areas rather than the pristine world of black and white. But flexibility in thought need not be an ugly grey. Why not see it as an entire spectrum of possibilities between opposing poles of thought?
This will get classified under idle deliberation but I do hope to personally "tend to" (channeling Calculus) a place where there is room for more cooperation, consideration and tolerance rather than rabid competition and an unyielding entrenchment of opinions.
I came across this Schopenhauer quote in the "Train of Thought" series that appear in NY subway trains:
"Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision for the limits of the world."
Funny how stray thoughts tend to get validated in this fashion.
Wonder why it's so difficult for us to acknowledge the existence of other points of view. Why is it so hard to agree to disagree instead of forcing our opinions down other throats and always trying to find converts and followers? This same sense of wonder extends to our conscious efforts to declare ourselves a brand. We all have virtual soapboxes to climb these days and we want to shout out our "brands".
The word "wondering" often hints at a setting apart of oneself. Even though I am using inclusive pronouns to declare that I am as guilty of it all as everyone else. The use of the word "guilty" in the previous sentence further betrays my prejudice and lack of non-judgemental impartiality. I wonder about my own motivations. Stating my own opinion about the entrenched opinions of others is making me feel uncomfortably opinionated.
All this makes me reexamine the old ideal of having the strength of one's convictions. Maybe the entrenchment of opinions is a consequence of being rigidly ideal-bound, of fighting a perception of spinelessness and amorality, of being seen as someone who dwells in grey areas rather than the pristine world of black and white. But flexibility in thought need not be an ugly grey. Why not see it as an entire spectrum of possibilities between opposing poles of thought?
This will get classified under idle deliberation but I do hope to personally "tend to" (channeling Calculus) a place where there is room for more cooperation, consideration and tolerance rather than rabid competition and an unyielding entrenchment of opinions.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Nothing: Part 16
I never learnt how to ride a bike. I remember trying to learn. I remember my Dad giving me riding lessons. There was a brief moment when I thought I had it. I felt free, as though I was flying, as though I had finally got the hang of it. Right at that moment I asked my Dad to let go so I could give it a shot on my own. When there was no response from him I realized he wasn't around. He had let go several minutes ago and was watching from a distance. I had been riding on my own. This realization and my fall were simultaneous. I never attempted to ride again.
When I am practicing my violin, on some days I don't think about the minutiae of playing. On these days I trust (trust being the key word - could have used faith as well) I'll read fluently, absorb the rhythm, tempo, the dynamics, and just play, occasionally with my eyes closed. But then, after a lull, and as if on cue, I'm suddenly aware that it's all going rather well. As soon as that happens, I switch gears and try to control some aspects of my playing, pay special attention to the accents on certain notes, or the crescendo signs in the music, or I suddenly start wondering whether my sound is mezzo forte when the music requires it to be piano. As soon as I start worrying about these tiny details I introduce a scratchiness to the tone, I start hitting wrong notes and I just find myself baffled at how everything fell apart as soon as I decided to exercise some level of conscious control. It's almost as if my mind got in the way.
I've talked about driving before. When I drive I never think about the driving itself. I have the larger goal of transporting myself safely from one point to another. My safety would be hampered if I never took my eyes off the dashboard indicators or if I kept worrying about my hands being at the perfect 10-2 position on the wheel rather than having a sense of the bigger picture and the larger goal. After all these years I've learnt to trust (there's that word again) that something else controls the minutiae, that my conscious attention to these matters is not required, that the brain is dealing with this at a deeper more subtle level.
My husband has faith in a red thread around his wrist. The red thread might give the impression of extreme religiosity or superstition. But that's not what I think it is. My mom is a big believer in prayer and in having faith. She prays for our well being and success and the red thread she then sends us renders those wishes and prayers tangible. My husband keeps the thread on forever...until my mom sends him a new one. I don't think he sees the thread as a magical thing that would bring him luck, or maybe he does believe that, who knows! I believe having it around his wrist enables him to relinquish some of the conscious control I talked about before. It enables a shedding of worries about where the next paycheck would come from, what our future holds, the what-ifs about the next contract being more than a year away...such thoughts could stump him and paralyze him. But once the thread is on his wrist he gets more focussed on the task of making phone calls, sending out resumes, doing all the things that will take him to the next level.
I always start my day saying a couple of Sanskrit shlokas that I don't even truly understand. I chant them out aloud. It's my own way of setting aside some baggage, telling myself to not micro-manage my life to such an extent that I am petrified, immobilized. I relinquish some degree of conscious control when I say the words and it I am not even sure I want to understand what the words really mean, that would defeat the purpose. Has this helped me? Perhaps. Worrying about whether this has helped or not would also be defeating the purpose.
What I've come to realize is that the words: prayers, faith, beliefs in a higher power - these words are secular in their intent. They don't represent a belief in God, they don't make one religious. They are probably a very scientific and healthy means of surrender. As an agnostic, I am inclined to see them as surrender to some part of our very complex brains; a relegation of these niggling thoughts to the part of the left brain where they belong - so that our 'mind' isn't always tripping us up.
I am not eloquent enough to say all that I want to say on the subject but I like the message behind the Serenity Prayer:
I would be inclined to replace all the God references with "Left Brain Neurons and Synapses" (LBNS) but I would still be surrendering and relinquishing control.
I am reminded of this very funny scene in a Ben Kingsley movie, I am forgetting the name (it'll come back to me at midnight when I've relinquished control and stopped thinking about it), where he plays an assassin who has a drinking problem. He doesn't believe in God so his Alcoholics Anonymous sponsor tells him to surrender to a higher power, anything, anyone. His character then catches sight of the Golden Gate bridge and decides to surrender to it.
When I am practicing my violin, on some days I don't think about the minutiae of playing. On these days I trust (trust being the key word - could have used faith as well) I'll read fluently, absorb the rhythm, tempo, the dynamics, and just play, occasionally with my eyes closed. But then, after a lull, and as if on cue, I'm suddenly aware that it's all going rather well. As soon as that happens, I switch gears and try to control some aspects of my playing, pay special attention to the accents on certain notes, or the crescendo signs in the music, or I suddenly start wondering whether my sound is mezzo forte when the music requires it to be piano. As soon as I start worrying about these tiny details I introduce a scratchiness to the tone, I start hitting wrong notes and I just find myself baffled at how everything fell apart as soon as I decided to exercise some level of conscious control. It's almost as if my mind got in the way.
I've talked about driving before. When I drive I never think about the driving itself. I have the larger goal of transporting myself safely from one point to another. My safety would be hampered if I never took my eyes off the dashboard indicators or if I kept worrying about my hands being at the perfect 10-2 position on the wheel rather than having a sense of the bigger picture and the larger goal. After all these years I've learnt to trust (there's that word again) that something else controls the minutiae, that my conscious attention to these matters is not required, that the brain is dealing with this at a deeper more subtle level.
My husband has faith in a red thread around his wrist. The red thread might give the impression of extreme religiosity or superstition. But that's not what I think it is. My mom is a big believer in prayer and in having faith. She prays for our well being and success and the red thread she then sends us renders those wishes and prayers tangible. My husband keeps the thread on forever...until my mom sends him a new one. I don't think he sees the thread as a magical thing that would bring him luck, or maybe he does believe that, who knows! I believe having it around his wrist enables him to relinquish some of the conscious control I talked about before. It enables a shedding of worries about where the next paycheck would come from, what our future holds, the what-ifs about the next contract being more than a year away...such thoughts could stump him and paralyze him. But once the thread is on his wrist he gets more focussed on the task of making phone calls, sending out resumes, doing all the things that will take him to the next level.
I always start my day saying a couple of Sanskrit shlokas that I don't even truly understand. I chant them out aloud. It's my own way of setting aside some baggage, telling myself to not micro-manage my life to such an extent that I am petrified, immobilized. I relinquish some degree of conscious control when I say the words and it I am not even sure I want to understand what the words really mean, that would defeat the purpose. Has this helped me? Perhaps. Worrying about whether this has helped or not would also be defeating the purpose.
What I've come to realize is that the words: prayers, faith, beliefs in a higher power - these words are secular in their intent. They don't represent a belief in God, they don't make one religious. They are probably a very scientific and healthy means of surrender. As an agnostic, I am inclined to see them as surrender to some part of our very complex brains; a relegation of these niggling thoughts to the part of the left brain where they belong - so that our 'mind' isn't always tripping us up.
I am not eloquent enough to say all that I want to say on the subject but I like the message behind the Serenity Prayer:
God grant me the serenity--Reinhold Niebuhr
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.
I would be inclined to replace all the God references with "Left Brain Neurons and Synapses" (LBNS) but I would still be surrendering and relinquishing control.
I am reminded of this very funny scene in a Ben Kingsley movie, I am forgetting the name (it'll come back to me at midnight when I've relinquished control and stopped thinking about it), where he plays an assassin who has a drinking problem. He doesn't believe in God so his Alcoholics Anonymous sponsor tells him to surrender to a higher power, anything, anyone. His character then catches sight of the Golden Gate bridge and decides to surrender to it.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Nothing: Part 15
Multi-tasking. The word sounds cliched and ugly to me these days. I considered myself an expert at it before, took so much pride in my parallel processing abilities. I can still do it with ease but it brings me no joy. It doesn't come with the feather in the cap of having packed each 24 hour period with so much. But it makes me feel as though things are just a short step away from spiralling out of control even if it's about having a conversation while the television is on. I want to go back to giving my full attention to one thing at a time...within reason...I still don't think I can drive without listening to music; so maybe two things at a time.
Is it age or exhaustion? I am averse to attributing anything to age; the same pair of eyes are staring at the greyness of my office cubicle as did at the colorful kiddy drawings that used to be tacked up on school bulletin boards. Afterall, some neurons stay with us for life. It's just a deep desire to turn away from all the noise, from nerves jangled by the informational juggernaut that bears down on me, unrelenting in its approach.
We had to work for our information before, travel to it, swim upstream or downstream for it and now we stand still, rooted and catatonic but awash in news that's old even before it can be fully processed by our brain. Perhaps there's such a thing as information erosion, stripping away my epithelials, a layer at a time while I stand still, buffetted and battered by the toxic waves. And of course there is an inability to move away from it all, to acknowledge the corrosive effects.
I never thought I would resort to yearning for things as they were before, but it used to be so much more satisfying to pull The New York Times out of its translucent blue sleeve and read it, a section at a time, instead of picking up on tinyurl tweeted by someone. Everyone finds the same things interesting, everyone forwards the same things to all of their followers, constantly trying to be the first ones who picked up on something, anything. Why the race?
The only concept I somewhat retained from my awful MBA corporate finance course is that information is old almost as soon as it qualifies as information. By the time one decides to make investment decisions on information that they now have it would already be too late. But now we have corporations stocking up on "social media" employees to monitor every social networking site to watch for trends, to monitor things like "buzz" and "hits" and "trending topics". Isn't this counter-intuitive? If you didn't create the trend then you are a pathetic follower! By the time your corporation decides to act on what's hot it will long be cold and dead! So what is the point of it all? To my mind it's an image of a car that's attempting to cross a drawbridge that suddenly opens up and rises steeply in front of the driver before he or she has a chance to go across, leaving the pull of gravity as the only outcome for car and driver.
I want to turn away from it all, I don't want to get snagged in things that have just gone "viral". I don't want Google to track my location and figure out where my clacking keyboard is, I don't want iTunes and amazon.com to "recommend" more of the same things to me, emailing me what my previous preferences show I am interested in and I don't want Facebook telling me I should befriend someone because he or she is a friend of a friend of a friend.
The only option is to walk away, to stop being hynotized and so mesmerized by it all. I am growing to resent being told to like more of what I've liked in the past and to like something because others are liking it.
I want them to think chaos theory when they see my profile...refer to Jurassic Park again where Jeff Goldblum so lucidly illustrates how it's impossible to tell the direction in which a drop of water will branch out as it trickles. Just because I looked for books written by surfers shouldn't make these prying eyes comfortable with the idea of marketing surfing equipment to me. I read an article in the last issue of The New Yorker, in the personal history section, about fishing for chain pickerel. I liked what I read. I learnt so much about pickerel, how they eat their own kind, how you see crayfish and frogs hop out of pickerel if you slice it open and how you often find a pickerel inside a pickerel because they devour their young. I might be curious enough to do some searches on pickerel, pike or walleye, now that my mind is open to it. Would they then peg me as an intrepid pickerel fisherwoman?
Something needs to give. Marketers need to rewrite their algorithms to account for eclectic tastes. Information won't stop coming at us, so we need to install personal dams, dykes, whatever it takes to slow down, divert the flow...irrigate our minds efficiently and not chaotically.
In the meantime, I find myself revisiting the song Amazing Grace, and seeing the beauty in the Serenity Prayer and making a conscious effort to just slow down, even if the effort is still imperceptible, the intention will drive it.
More on why an agnostic like me is thinking of these prayers and the issue of surrender in the next post...
Is it age or exhaustion? I am averse to attributing anything to age; the same pair of eyes are staring at the greyness of my office cubicle as did at the colorful kiddy drawings that used to be tacked up on school bulletin boards. Afterall, some neurons stay with us for life. It's just a deep desire to turn away from all the noise, from nerves jangled by the informational juggernaut that bears down on me, unrelenting in its approach.
We had to work for our information before, travel to it, swim upstream or downstream for it and now we stand still, rooted and catatonic but awash in news that's old even before it can be fully processed by our brain. Perhaps there's such a thing as information erosion, stripping away my epithelials, a layer at a time while I stand still, buffetted and battered by the toxic waves. And of course there is an inability to move away from it all, to acknowledge the corrosive effects.
I never thought I would resort to yearning for things as they were before, but it used to be so much more satisfying to pull The New York Times out of its translucent blue sleeve and read it, a section at a time, instead of picking up on tinyurl tweeted by someone. Everyone finds the same things interesting, everyone forwards the same things to all of their followers, constantly trying to be the first ones who picked up on something, anything. Why the race?
The only concept I somewhat retained from my awful MBA corporate finance course is that information is old almost as soon as it qualifies as information. By the time one decides to make investment decisions on information that they now have it would already be too late. But now we have corporations stocking up on "social media" employees to monitor every social networking site to watch for trends, to monitor things like "buzz" and "hits" and "trending topics". Isn't this counter-intuitive? If you didn't create the trend then you are a pathetic follower! By the time your corporation decides to act on what's hot it will long be cold and dead! So what is the point of it all? To my mind it's an image of a car that's attempting to cross a drawbridge that suddenly opens up and rises steeply in front of the driver before he or she has a chance to go across, leaving the pull of gravity as the only outcome for car and driver.
I want to turn away from it all, I don't want to get snagged in things that have just gone "viral". I don't want Google to track my location and figure out where my clacking keyboard is, I don't want iTunes and amazon.com to "recommend" more of the same things to me, emailing me what my previous preferences show I am interested in and I don't want Facebook telling me I should befriend someone because he or she is a friend of a friend of a friend.
The only option is to walk away, to stop being hynotized and so mesmerized by it all. I am growing to resent being told to like more of what I've liked in the past and to like something because others are liking it.
I want them to think chaos theory when they see my profile...refer to Jurassic Park again where Jeff Goldblum so lucidly illustrates how it's impossible to tell the direction in which a drop of water will branch out as it trickles. Just because I looked for books written by surfers shouldn't make these prying eyes comfortable with the idea of marketing surfing equipment to me. I read an article in the last issue of The New Yorker, in the personal history section, about fishing for chain pickerel. I liked what I read. I learnt so much about pickerel, how they eat their own kind, how you see crayfish and frogs hop out of pickerel if you slice it open and how you often find a pickerel inside a pickerel because they devour their young. I might be curious enough to do some searches on pickerel, pike or walleye, now that my mind is open to it. Would they then peg me as an intrepid pickerel fisherwoman?
Something needs to give. Marketers need to rewrite their algorithms to account for eclectic tastes. Information won't stop coming at us, so we need to install personal dams, dykes, whatever it takes to slow down, divert the flow...irrigate our minds efficiently and not chaotically.
In the meantime, I find myself revisiting the song Amazing Grace, and seeing the beauty in the Serenity Prayer and making a conscious effort to just slow down, even if the effort is still imperceptible, the intention will drive it.
More on why an agnostic like me is thinking of these prayers and the issue of surrender in the next post...
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