Some Thoughts

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Friday, May 3, 2013

"The camel has a big dumb ugly hump. But in the desert, where prettier, more streamlined beasts die quickly of thirst, the camels survive quite nicely. As legend has it, the camel carries its own water, stores it in its stupid hump. If individuals, like camels, perfect their inner resources, if we have the power within us, then we can cross any wasteland in relative comfort and survive in arid surroundings without relying on the external. Often, moreover, it is our “hump”—that aspect of our being that society finds eccentric, ridiculous, or disagreeable—that holds our sweet waters, our secret well of happiness, the key to our equanimity in malevolent climes"

- Still Life With Woodpecker by Tom Robbins

A few days ago after class I was walking down the street and saw a packet of Camel cigarettes on the ground. Ever since reading that Robbins book I find myself taking a look at these pyramid packages. It turned out that this one was different. It said "Celebrate Hump Day" on it, which was fitting since it was Wednesday. The picture was different, with the camel taking up more of the picture than usual.

So on Thursday I did a listening exercise with the class where I read the above Robbins quote and had them list the nouns, then the verbs, then the adjectives. Then we discussed what it meant. After that, I had them describe something about themselves that most people thought was strange, and then explain how actually it was a strengthening device in their life. If they didn't want to get too personal, they were welcome to describe their culture or country instead. Once they were finished writing, I let them volunteer to share in front of the class. After that I called on them telling them they were free to say no, but they all said yes (except one girl who had joined the class that day).

As always, we learned a lot.

Afterward, they asked me about my "camel hump." At the start I had offered examples that probably weren't very good. I told them that I'm pretty much willing to talk to anybody, at least for some amount of time, because you will always learn something, even if it's by counter-example. Even if what they're saying is contrary to everything you know to be true from deep within you and all around you, there might be a word or a phrase or an expression in there that will serve as a vital clue to get you to whatever dream you're supposed to. Someone told me that that isn't weird, it's a great thing. I think so, but not everybody does. After all, there are a lot of... different people, and if you're willing to be open with them, you'll find yourself spending your time with some pretty questionable characters. Even worse, you might find yourself liking them, because you realize that their camel hump is actually hiding some sort of beautiful treasure. That makes me think of gangster rap. I was raised as a small white boy who had really loving and safe parents, giving me a great life in the suburbs and countryside. Even so, I find myself drawing valuable inspiration from men who live and grow within seemingly completely different circumstance. Yet we actually face the same basic fundamental universal battles when you get down to the life and death truth of the dream. Maybe you don't like or can't identify with everything they're saying, but having them smoothly flow poetic verses over heavy beats and creatively tell stories about being brave and going for their dreams really helped me do the same, and still does. Amongst many other artists, of course. After all, inspiration can come from anywhere.

I didn't mention the rap stuff to my students though. Instead I said something about my reddish hair getting me picked on as a kid but getting me ahead of the line at a bar in New Zealand for some reason. I was better at giving them suggestions based on their own cultures and already openly admitted quirks, putting positive spins on everything they said. After listening to them, I figured out the camel hump that was on my mind at the time...

Years ago I graduated from a great school with great grades. On top of that, after years of taking standardized tests that told me to be a lawyer or civil engineer, I had done incredibly well on the LSAT (law school standardized admission test). I had no intention of being a lawyer, but I wanted to know that I could do it, if only to make me feel better about walking away from it. Of course, my first job ended up being as a banking paralegal in Manhattan, which would have helped my law school application if I had still intended to pursue that path. I knew long before then that I wouldn't though. That's because I knew that I loved life the most when I was able to free my energies enough to focus on life's many mysteries, poetry and potential adventures that could turn into enlightening stories told beautifully.

After all these years, I'm very happy with the choices I've made, and I've had so many beautiful enjoyable experiences around the world that it's hard to keep track at times. Then again, I barely have any money right now, and the college debt still looms. Because of that, I live in a place that's located somewhere fun and exciting, but has some questionable tenants who drive me out of my mind from time to time. After a long winter I've decided I'm not really bothered by that, since it's just my base to explore this place, and it's way better than where I started in New York. I'll get more work and sell a book soon, whatever kind of treasure boon that brings back to me. Even if my book is the best book ever written, not that many people know who I am, so it's going to take a lot of extra ingenuity, creativity and will power to get it out to as many eyes and minds and hearts as possible.

When answering my students, I told them that the strangest thing about me that most people might not understand, at least not in my culture, is that I gave up the opportunity to make lots and lots of money so that I could experience and learn as much as possible of the world while I was still young, energetic and free enough to do so, and therefore be relatively poor. That is, financially poor compared to my college classmates, not my current housemates or the people all over the world who have basically nothing.

That being said, even though it's a gamble, I've reasoned that my potential to make the most money possible in this world is through storytelling, in whatever form. It takes a lot of hard work, talent and timing, but the potential highest spiritual and financial rewards for creating inspiring pleasurable stories would be far greater than whatever the legal world had to offer me. I also think I could do far greater good for this world through storytelling than I could as a lawyer doing humanitarian or environmental projects. I'm glad people do that, but it's not where my good does the most.

When I was a paralegal, a millionaire attorney at the office party asked me if I was going to law school. I lied and said that I was thinking about it. He said, "Good! Because if you'd said 'yes,' we'd have to fire you for being an idiot! The junior executives at Goldman Sachs got $30 million bonuses yesterday. BONUSES! How do you go to work the next day?!" And he was taking in several million a year. Money isn't evil at all. It's exchanged for goods and services. But it sure has poisoned your mind if you can't be happy with a million smiling pyramids in your bank account. If I sold a book or several books and accumulated that kind of cash, I would use it to have a stable beautiful home, travel the world more, and share it with as many friends and needy people as possible. I would also invest it into whatever equipment was necessary for me to tell stories in as many cutting edge ways as possible. If I were in the position to have children, I'd start saving it for them. I'm not at that point though, so I don't worry about it. Besides, you can't buy a beautiful sunrise, laugh from a friend, or genuine smile from a woman.

I ended the class with one of my favorite quotes that I came upon in New York, from Dostoyevsky's The Brothers Karamazov. My first writing hero, Kurt Vonnegut, said that everything you needed to know about life was in that book. I didn't believe him, so I read many other books before and afterward. Then I made a huge collection of wisdom from all the books I'd read in my 3 years in New York, and it's still sitting as an overflowing binder on my bookcase. After all of that, I think Kurt was right. The opening quote to the wisdom collection is:

"But tell me, Karamazov, am I being ridiculous at this moment?"

"Why don't you stop carrying on about that? Just forget about it altogether! Anyway, what does it mean, being ridiculous? There are so many different ways a man may seem funny to someone else. Especially these days when anybody who has any talent appears to be morbidly afraid that he may appear ridiculous. That's why so many gifted people are unhappy. The only surprising thing is that you've started feeling this way when you're still so young, but I've noticed it in many other young people too... there's no need for you to be like the rest."

"Even if everybody else becomes like that?"

"Yes, even if everybody else becomes like that. Be the only one who is not like it. Besides, you ARE different, because you weren't ashamed to admit to me things that you consider bad or even ridiculous in yourself. Who else today is willing to admit such things? No one. In fact, they've lost even the need to admit that they're wrong even when they know they are. So be different from the others, even if you are the only one who is different from all the rest."

Enjoy your camel's hump in full play today.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Live & Thrive With Five

Around the corner from work

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Adaptable Diversity of the Spiritual Animal

Today's writing assignment was to think about any of the many mysteries in the world that you want an answer to, even if it doesn't seem possible, and share the mystery with the class and explain why it appeals to your imagination.

The students came up with many great mysteries, and amongst all of them I think we covered all the basics with a few unique ones.

The first mystery was about where all the religions came from, and who imagined them, and who came up with the good one's channeled from God and who came up with the silly ones. Also, what's with all the animal worship? Why this animal and not that animal?

My favorite mystery was about the pyramids in Mexico and Egypt, that specifically the pyramids at Teotihuacan outside Mexico are on the same "magnetic line" or something like that. I just did a little research online and I'm not exactly sure what the student was talking about, but it sounds good to me, because I love my pyramids. Especially the ones at Giza and Teotihuacan...

There were many other mysteries brought up by classmates: chicken or the egg? Clinical death? Time travel? After life? Who stole the cookie from my cookie jar? That was mine actually. I'm still mad about it.

The last mystery was about meditation. I thought this interesting because I'd just checked out a book about meditation by English philosopher and West Coast celebrity entertainer/author Alan Watts, and finished it last night. The woman wanted to know how people who report great feelings of happiness and contentment after meditating are able to do so. "How do you pull your being down into your stomach? I don't get it!"

I told them about the only time I truly meditated according to any traditional system. It was four years ago, June 2009, at a music festival (yeah, I know, it already sounds suspect) with a spiritual healer/wandering synchronicity slacker. He's all over my first book. I'd been really sick and out of breath after a visit to New York City the month before. When I got to my third Bonnaroo, I saw this man who I had seen six times around the country, the first being in this same place, Bonnaroo, three years earlier. I finally met him and he told me he does Qi Gong breathing, and takes donations based on how good people feel afterward. I sat in the lotus position, he told me to close my eyes and focus on nothing else but breathing, and then he chanted weird things in Hindi around me, even though Qi Gong is Chinese. Apparently he had wandered all over India. I had just been considering switching the starting point of my first journey to India instead of Thailand. He made me feel much better, and the feelings of breathlessness and fatigue only returned once, a month later, when I was incredibly stressed out.

A year later I found myself meditating inside the Great Pyramid at Giza in Egypt, and at the end of the year I was doing the same on top of the Pyramid of the Sun in Mexico. I didn't have much training, and I always like to add my own imagination to any process the universe goes through the bother of having me have. But according to the masters, the main benefit of meditation stems from focusing on breathing and letting your mind's thoughts slowly slip away so that you feel clarity and focus on the bliss of being. If, during that process, your mind wanders amongst myriad thoughts, that's okay, it's all part of it. But eventually you should settle into a relaxed focused rhythm which simultaneously lets go of your sense of self and control. As long as you're aware of that part, you can meditate any time, anywhere, and goes wherever you want to go inside your mind.

Today, after class, I took a quick nap at home and got in the car. I checked out a nearby park and then headed for highway 1. I eventually found a spot on the beach to watch the sunset on the Pacific. I'd brought my headphones and materials to read, but I didn't even open my bag. I just sat and listened to the waves and watched the sun and the birds flying overhead, and breathed in and out at somewhat equal rates, and let my mind go where it felt like going. I felt very clear and very good about everything. A lot of the issues swirling around my brain had clear solutions to them. I enjoyed the drive back home, and got on the internet when I got back to my room.

The first thing I saw was a post from my friend Glenn, describing the diversity of his news feed, but limited to only four categories. It seemed like he was both celebrating and bemoaning the predictable diversity of the daily din. Realizing that most of my status updates fit into one of the four categories, I tried to spice it up by adding some information about lemurs, a delightful primate from Madagascar. It was kind of an inside joke.

Right after I moved away from New York City, Glenn moved there, so when I came back to visit in May of 2009, I accompanied him around Manhattan during a day of job searching. Once we got sick of that we made our way to Union Square to meet a girl I knew and her friend. However, on the way we saw a place of business and spiritual guidance production created by a science fiction writer. It said there was a free 15 minute video every half hour, and Glenn was interested because he's a mischievous skeptic. Normally we might be weary of mixing with a group notorious for its aggressive salesmanship (not to say it's the only one of its kind), but we were together, and had a strong history of righteous rebellious behavior at one another's sides, so we figured we'd be safe. We were, at least mentally. The movie didn't make any sense at all. It just kept saying that when you're older you might remember stuff that happened to you when you were younger, and it might not make sense and ruin your life somehow, so you should buy their book which explains everything. Especially if life ever bothers you at any point, or if you ever feel tired or confused. We both commented that the air quality in the room was strange. Glenn thought there was too much oxygen, and I thought too little. Either way, breathing was hard.

After the film we left and thought we would be on our way, but they wouldn't let us go. They kept insisting we fill out a questionnaire about the movie. Glenn had decided to take on the role of my British pen pal (he's an actor), and I had decided to take on the role of the person playing a completely different game whose answers make no sense in the limited context of their sheet. I wrote the score to a basketball game as the answer to one question, in reference to a Seinfeld episode. When asked what I would like to learn more about, I wrote I wanted to learn more about lemurs, because that was the first thing that popped into my head. I didn't know she was going to scrutinize the answers and go over them with us face to face before she let us leave. She wanted to know why I liked lemurs so much. I said we can learn a lot from everything, so I imagine lemurs would have something to teach us too. In fact, we could learn a lot from all of the animals, as we were animals too. She said that science teaches we are nothing more than animals, but her business--er, faith--teaches that people are spiritual beings, especially if we gave her thirty dollars for a book about it. Glenn chimed in with his perfect British accent and said, "Some might say that humans, are, a spiritual animal." She didn't like that. She kept telling me I could read the science fiction book if I gave her 30 dollars, and then I'd be happy, and I kept telling her I was saving all of my money for a book about lemurs, which wasn't totally true, but we were on our way to a book store, so it wasn't a complete lie. If forced to choose, I would have chosen the lemur book. I honestly found them more fascinating. She got mad at the last mention of lemurs and told us we could go, slamming down her thirty dollar revelation of universal prophecy. When we got outside we were never happier to breathe New York City air. We had a great lunch with my friends, and then went to this really famous bookstore near Union Square. It was there that I bought my copy of The Alchemist. It's about a boy who goes on a spiritual journey and brave adventure to the pyramids at Giza in Egypt. I accept no one set of words as the final and concrete truth or representation of truth, but still, I really love that book (and it only cost about $10). It really helped me survive around the world and achieve my dreams. It still does. Amongst many others, of course. Diversity is always key.

Which brings me back to lemurs. This is what I shared on Glenn's page and then the news feed so that his news feed would be more diverse: