Mostly not nooz. 🙂
- Think your way to stronger muscles. (No doubt has a lot of applications beyond muscles, too.)
- (Formerly) dying man says adopted stray dog — that he didn’t even want — helped cure his cancer.
- It’s not really news that religious people are happier than us non-religious. Question is, are they happier because of something about their religion or are they happier because they’re the sort of people who don’t poke and prod at every extraordinary claim, the sort who just accept the word of their chosen authority and get on with life?
- Yes, Christmas Eve was quite a time for that embarrassing data dump, wasn’t it, NSA? Kevin D. Williamson has some sharp words about that — before winding toward some very naive and foolish words. (Williamson is frustrating. He’s one of those guys who almost, alllllmost, gets it, then turns away.)
- Shocked. Simply shocked. Guess which political party is “the party of the rich.” (Yeah, you knew, didn’t you? The real question is why will millions of supposedly informed people be genuinely shocked — and in denial — about this?)
I still owe some thanks to some Santas! Right now, I gotta go walk the dogs in the rain, but I will get to that. I think I’ve already thanked the Santas themselves, in person or in email, but I had to guess on matching some of the packages up with their mystery givers. And here I really wasn’t expecting anything for Christmas this year.
Hope Santa was great to you, as well.
Am also reaching the end of my two-months hermitude and need to write a wrapup on that. A wrapup would be easier if I actually knew what I’d accomplished during these months, but surely even a failure to find what I didn’t know I was looking for is … something.
I’m definitely not throwing stones on this one: “a failure to find what I didn’t know I was looking for.” I once heard a talk by a medical missionary to Africa, Burkett, of Burkett’s lymphoma. He made a safari analogy to life. He said in a safari, the most important thing is that you’re going in the right direction. It doesn’t really matter how fast you’re going, because you’ll eventually get there. By contrast, if you’re going in the wrong direction, it doesn’t matter at all you fast you’re going because you’ll never get there. So the most important thing is to be going in the right direction.
Once, before a stressful major exam, I spent two weeks in the guest house of a Benedictine monastery (they accepted me even though I’m not Catholic). It was a wonderful influence in getting my head straight. My suspicion regarding your recent hermitage is that you may not have been disconnected enough from the outside world. You stayed in the same place, had the same animals to care for, had the unavoidable concerns about your house, and were in and out of this blog. It’s very hard to listen to deeper things when there’s a lot of superficial noise.
“My suspicion regarding your recent hermitage is that you may not have been disconnected enough from the outside world. You stayed in the same place, had the same animals to care for, had the unavoidable concerns about your house, and were in and out of this blog. It’s very hard to listen to deeper things when there’s a lot of superficial noise.”
Precisely, Shel. You nailed it. (I’m not surprised that someone who spent two weeks on retreat in a Benedictine monastery would spot that.) I made the same mistake I’ve made every other time I’ve tried to get some space from the ‘Net and from the everyday — not gone far enough. That’s particularly true when it comes to being online.
I know the error, but not how to avoid it. I can’t get away from the ‘Net completely because I earn my living on it. And once I get on the ‘Net, my monkey brain (Ohhh, look — shiny!), my sense of responsibility (email, blogging), and my habits of procrastination kick in.
I know what I need to do. Quit the ‘Net completely for some period of time. I just can’t bring myself to do it because so much hinges on being online. Yes, critters, home, etc. are part of the problem. As is the fact that I began this retreat by losing someone I thought was a good friend because she judged me as being “just selfish.” That really didn’t set a good tone and it made me realize that particular friendship had never been as solid as I believed (which makes me question many other things). But my relationship to the ‘Net is the central issue.
Still, these two months were only meant to be a beginning — hopefully a time to get a clue to “what next?” In that, they haven’t been a complete failure.
Thank you for such astute observations.
The ‘net didn’t exist when I stayed at the guest house. Perhaps there’s some advantage, after all, to being an old f*** 🙂
If I could get off the ‘net I wouldn’t be adding this 🙂
I firmly believe the change in your “friendship” is a wonderful blessing. I’ve made no secret of my opinions. There are many more productive activities you on which could spend your time: pick your nose, scratch your a**, etc. It’s especially wonderful if her reaction has made you “question many other things.” Please, please do that and don’t cut any corners in those efforts. There’s a reason those are popping into your head now. I’ve been much too generous with others for my own good, so perhaps I can relate.
As for your “friend” [I grimace as I type that], she frankly can go to any alphabet letter of your choosing. Though relating to the opposite sex, a couple of songs come immediately to mind:
“That really didn’t set a good tone and it made me realize that particular friendship had never been as solid as I believed *(which makes me question many other things).”* [My emphasis]
Don’t fall into that trap. That’s how cynicism begins, and generalities build into absolutes. Take each issue and each relationship for what it is. If it’s important enough to you, try to make contact and find out why she feels hermitting is selfish. (Maybe she was hurt because she thought your friendship was an exception and you’d never break contact with *her.*) But don’t let hurt and disappointment affect other relationships or steer other actions.
“But my relationship to the ‘Net is the central issue.”
Figure out what you want from the internet — full-time work, part-time work, less personal relatioships, whatever — and then direct your energies there, ignoring the rest. Just as you have to say No to people, so you have to say No to the internet and your “public.” You have done so much for the cause of freedom, it’s time you started living that freedom your way.
~~~
I think there’s some truth to the “mind over matter” article. The example of wrist-in-a-cast is so true; I’ve had it and I’ve done it. Of course I continued to flex my fingers and tighten my forearm muscles while the cast was on, and I’m sure that helped greatly. The same principle could be applied to any healing situation.
How can the Democrats get away with portraying Republicans as the party of the rich? You’d think that anyone listening to the TV news or reading mainstream newspapers would…
Oh, wait.
Nevermind.
Don’t know about other believers, but I’m happier because I get to sing in the choir. Music is where I go for renewal.
I don’t know if this means much, Claire, but I don’t think you seem nearly as frazzled as you used to be.
Claire,
Just a thought or two (not suggestions) concerning the logistics of several weeks without contact and writing commitments.
Could you perhaps have 20 questions or concepts arranged to be released every 3 days or so automatically? Then your wonderful and insightful commentariat could respond to each without your immediate input?
Take a light non connected netbook or something with you for writing, put the critters on vacation somewhere else , go to a quiet place and continue your quest.
Don’t forget to take your bug out bag in case the world ends and you won’t know it 🙂
Oh, Pat, I am already waaaay beyond cynicism.
FWIW, I absolutely did try to talk with L. At first, she wouldn’t talk at all. When she finally did, I felt as if I was listening to somebody from another planet. I figured that, if nothing else, she’d apologize for having called me selfish while I was driving her out of town to a doctor appointment. But no. She remained focused on how I was “punishing” her — which may be how she felt, but certainly isn’t a rational thought. Far as I could tell, she isn’t even conscious of, let alone concerned about, anything else.
I think I could be more reconciled to this if she had flung such nasty accusations at me in the heat of an argument. But the fact that “you’re just being selfish” and “you’re punishing me” were her first responses to my hermitting plans … that’s just wrong. A real friend might have said, “Claire, I don’t think you’re doing the right thing” or “Have you really thought this out?” or “I don’t like this at all!” or “Have you thought about your friends?” Many possibilities. But condemnation and accusations — and no regrets about them even a week later? Nope.
L. has many virtues. But she’s a believer in convention, a follower, and ultimately isn’t going to tolerate anything she perceives as too far out of the norm.
“Don’t forget to take your bug out bag in case the world ends and you won’t know it :)”
LOL! Always, Tahn.
And I appreciate the suggestions on disconnecting, guys. It’s not quite as easy as all that, but I appreciate the food for thought.
Ellendra — Well, thanks. That’s good. In fact, you’re right on that. I wasn’t really thinking about it, but definitely the first nine months of this year were frazzling (often good, but still hectic) and even if I don’t feel I accomplished much, I did eliminate most of that. Thanks for reminding me.
LarryA — I regret putting that religion remark in such “us” vs “them” terms. I know a lot of people who read this blog are believers — and good for you. It’s just that the more I seek, the less I find, and belief becomes an ever-more mystifying concept to me, personally.
But the fact that “you’re just being selfish” and “you’re punishing me” were her first responses to my hermitting plans
Were they the first responses?
When something unexpected happens the first thing a human does is react, not respond. Then there’s time to think about what happened. Then the human responds.
Of course some humans take longer than others to respond, and some, having reacted, are reluctant to take whatever they did or said back. Then there are people who just seldom think unless they’re forced to.
And there are those who are so egocentric that they see the world only as it relates to their wants.
I regret putting that religion remark in such “us” vs “them” terms.
Not a problem. IMHO the worst belief is that all must believe as I do.
You’re right, LarryA. She reacted. Then a week later she responded by confirming her initial reaction.
Part of me understands. She had probably been creating Thanksgiving and Christmas in her mind, with me among the friends at the table. At that moment — startled and dismayed — she just couldn’t believe that a friend would choose not to spend holidays with her (despite the fact that she and I have shared very few holidays over the years). An apology would have erased everything.
” It’s not really news that religious people are happier than us non-religious. Question is, are they happier because of something about their religion or are they happier because they’re the sort of people who don’t poke and prod at every extraordinary claim, the sort who just accept the word of their chosen authority and get on with life?”
The implication here seems to be that believers (if that is what is meant by “religious people”) are a herd of dull, unreflective, happy idiots, never thinking for themselves, never “questioning authority,” cheerfully accepting easy canned answers, or no answers, and all wearing permanent, frozen rictus-like smiles.
If you judge by people like Joel Osteen and his followers, I guess I can see how you might get such an impression. I do not put much stock in Osteen however.
I am afraid this is rather long. I hope the import will be clear, but perhaps not. I was never good at just spitting things out bluntly and briefly, or even putting things in my own words, so I often quote my betters to illustrate my point in a roundabout way.
‘ Then Sunday spoke, but so dreamily that he might have been continuing a conversation rather than beginning one.
“We will eat and drink later,” he said. “Let us remain together a little, we who have loved each other _so sadly, and have fought so long_. I seem to remember only centuries of heroic war, in which you were always heroes—epic on epic, Iliad on Iliad, and you always brothers in arms.
Whether it was but recently (for time is nothing), or at the beginning of the world, I sent you out to war. I sat in the darkness, where there is not any created thing, and to you I was only a voice commanding valour and an unnatural virtue.
You heard the voice in the dark, and you never heard it again. The sun in heaven denied it, the earth and sky denied it, all human wisdom denied it. And when I met you in the daylight I denied it myself.”
Syme stirred sharply in his seat, but otherwise there was silence, and the incomprehensible went on.
“But you were men. You did not forget your secret honour, though the whole cosmos turned an engine of torture to tear it out of you. I knew how near you were to hell. I know how you, Thursday, crossed swords with King Satan, and how you, Wednesday, named me in the hour without hope.”
There was complete silence in the starlit garden, and then the black-browed Secretary, implacable, turned in his chair towards Sunday, and said in a harsh voice—
“Who and what are you?”
“I am the Sabbath,” said the other without moving. “I am the peace of God.”
The Secretary started up, and stood crushing his costly robe in his hand.
“I know what you mean,” he cried, “and it is exactly that that I cannot forgive you.
I know you are contentment, optimism, what do they call the thing, an ultimate reconciliation. Well, I am not reconciled.
If you were the man in the dark room, why were you also Sunday, an offense to the sunlight? If you were from the first our father and our friend, why were you also our greatest enemy?
We wept, we fled in terror; the iron entered into our souls—and you are the peace of God! Oh, I can forgive God His anger, though it destroyed nations; but I cannot forgive Him His peace.”
Sunday answered not a word, but very slowly he turned his face of stone upon Syme as if asking a question.
“No,” said Syme, “I do not feel fierce like that. I am grateful to you, not only for wine and hospitality here, but for many a fine scamper and free fight. But I should like to know. My soul and heart are as happy and quiet here as this old garden, but my reason is still crying out. I should like to know.”
Sunday looked at Ratcliffe, whose clear voice said—
“It seems so silly that you should have been on both sides and fought yourself.”
Bull said—
“I understand nothing, but I am happy. In fact, I am going to sleep.”
“I am not happy,” said the Professor with his head in his hands, “because I do not understand. You let me stray a little too near to hell.”
And then Gogol said, with the absolute simplicity of a child—
“I wish I knew why I was hurt so much.”
Still Sunday said nothing, but only sat with his mighty chin upon his hand, and gazed at the distance. Then at last he said—
“I have heard your complaints in order. And here, I think, comes another to complain, and we will hear him also.”
The falling fire in the great cresset threw a last long gleam, like a bar of burning gold, across the dim grass. Against this fiery band was outlined in utter black the advancing legs of a black-clad figure.
He seemed to have a fine close suit with knee-breeches such as that which was worn by the servants of the house, only that it was not blue, but of this absolute sable. He had, like the servants, a kind of sword by his side.
It was only when he had come quite close to the crescent of the seven and flung up his face to look at them, that Syme saw, with thunder-struck clearness, that the face was the broad, almost ape-like face of his old friend Gregory, with its rank red hair and its insulting smile.
“Gregory!” gasped Syme, half-rising from his seat. “Why, this is the real anarchist!”
“Yes,” said Gregory, with a great and dangerous restraint, “I am the real anarchist.”
“‘Now there was a day,'” murmured Bull, who seemed really to have fallen asleep, “‘when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan came also among them.'”
“You are right,” said Gregory, and gazed all round. “I am a destroyer. I would destroy the world if I could.”
A sense of a pathos far under the earth stirred up in Syme, and he spoke brokenly and without sequence.
“Oh, most unhappy man,” he cried, “try to be happy! You have red hair like your sister.”
“My red hair, like red flames, shall burn up the world,” said Gregory. “I thought I hated everything more than common men can hate anything; but I find that I do not hate everything so much as I hate you!”
“I never hated you,” said Syme very sadly.
Then out of this unintelligible creature the last thunders broke.
“You!” he cried. “You never hated because you never lived. I know what you are all of you, from first to last—you are the people in power! You are the police—the great fat, smiling men in blue and buttons!
You are the Law, and you have never been broken. But is there a free soul alive that does not long to break you, only because you have never been broken?
We in revolt talk all kind of nonsense doubtless about this crime or that crime of the Government. It is all folly! The only crime of the Government is that it governs. The unpardonable sin of the supreme power is that it is supreme.
I do not curse you for being cruel. I do not curse you (though I might) for being kind. I curse you for being safe!
You sit in your chairs of stone, and have never come down from them. You are the seven angels of heaven, and you have had no troubles. Oh, I could forgive you everything, you that rule all mankind, if I could feel for once that you had suffered for one hour a real agony such as I—”
Syme sprang to his feet, shaking from head to foot.
“I see everything,” he cried, “everything that there is. Why does each thing on the earth war against each other thing? Why does each small thing in the world have to fight against the world itself? Why does a fly have to fight the whole universe? Why does a dandelion have to fight the whole universe?
For the same reason that I had to be alone in the dreadful Council of the Days. So that each thing that obeys law may have the glory and isolation of the anarchist. So that each man fighting for order may be as brave and good a man as the dynamiter.
So that the real lie of Satan may be flung back in the face of this blasphemer, so that by tears and torture we may earn the right to say to this man, ‘You lie!’ No agonies can be too great to buy the right to say to this accuser, ‘We also have suffered.’
“It is not true that we have never been broken. We have been broken upon the wheel. It is not true that we have never descended from these thrones. We have descended into hell.
We were complaining of unforgettable miseries even at the very moment when this man entered insolently to accuse us of happiness. I repel the slander; we have not been happy.
I can answer for every one of the great guards of Law whom he has accused. At least—”
He had turned his eyes so as to see suddenly the great face of Sunday, which wore a strange smile.
“Have you,” he cried in a dreadful voice, “have you ever suffered?” ‘
— G.K. Chesterton, _The Man Who Was Thursday_, Chapter XV, “The Accuser”