Teacher's mantra

I am but a guide.  I can hold your hand when the way is dangerous, for I have equipped myself to deal with the dangers.  I can tell you of the many pitfalls on the road to learning, for I have fallen in so many pits.  I can show you how to best use your time in practice, for I have spent much time in practice.  I vow to let you take your own journey into learning, for I am but a guide; I have not the answers, but only tools and knowledge to speed your journey.  I will humble myself to feed your natural beginner's mind, which has something to teach us all.  Thank you, oh wise one, for letting me share and guide your journey.

Responsibility

Sending a text message is a quick way of delivering a small bit of information or making a request.  When a request is made, a problem is described and responsibility for that problem is being discussed.  For example, consider the couple Amy and George discussing picking up their son, Johnny from school. Amy texts George, "I can't make it, so will you please remember to get Johnny from school today."  In this case, the problem being discussed is Amy can no longer make the pick-up.  The responsibility seems to shift to George.

But the shift isn't exactly automatic.  George could easily reply with "Got it honey, I'll get them home by 4:00."  But George could also just not respond.  George could think, hypothetically, "I'm not sure I can get off work by then, maybe I should see if Henry's parents can get him."  George could choose to work on that issue without telling Amy.  In this case, since no one has promised to pick up Johnny, both parents are now quasi-responsible.  

The reality of the situation is that quasi-responsible is tantamount to responsible.  Because the communication is incomplete, both Amy and George are now responsible for finding a pick-up solution.

In general, if a boss gives an employee a problem to solve, that problem is made into two problems unless the employee can actually assume responsibility for the problem.  "I heard you. I'm on it. You can trust me on this."  It's not efficient for the boss to still be responsible and have to look over the employee's shoulder all the time.

When receiving a text message, answer it immediately.  If you choose to delay answering, instead of solving a problem, you now have two problems: both of you are now responsible.

Macroeconomics

I think I finally get macroeconomics and what causes recessions (at least some inkling).  Recessions exist because of resource pressures.  Take a decrease in the supply of oil, for instance.  This leads to more competition over those resources by businesses which use oil.  These businesses must pass down their costs by downsizing employees or by being pushed out of business (or raising prices, which pushes the economic problem to consumers, just as oil price increases affected this business in question).  In either case, some of the value of the work done by that company is no longer a resource in that economy.  This lowered value is passed down by the employees not spending money as before.  These positive-feedback forces are somewhat mitigated by savings (personal and otherwise) and loans.  But savings and loans are mitigated by the chance of default which can be a hindrance if banks are overconfident (in the safety of their loans).  This, because it is so interconnected, is what happens when banks collapse.

23

I don't believe we should let our lives be ruled by superstition and numerology.  But I do think it's kinda fun to indulge in a little healthy pattern-finding now and again.  I have found the number 23 appear time and again in my life, so now I guess I look for it; I call it my favorite number.

I think the romance with 23 began with a basketball player that shared my name, sort of.  Michael Jordan is the name I quoted when people couldn't pick up my first name the first time.  "You know, Jordan like Michael Jordan."  Jordan wore 23 on his jersey.

When I moved to Seattle, I was turning 23 and looking for a car.  I ended up getting an Audi and the guy who sold it to me pointed out, as perhaps I wouldn't have noticed, that the license plate was 230-MSM and I was turning 23 and working for MS (Microsoft).  So that was easy to remember.

My last house was on 23rd Avenue and now I live in apartment #23.

My next car ended up with the license plate of 460... which is twice 230.  My height in inches is 69, which is three 23's, as is my mass, 69kg.

And that's it so far until the next coincidence finds me.

Religion as an index into psyche

The stories of the bible are mnemonic, a memory device, a framework for which we can apply an understanding of our personal lives.  In acrobatics a few weeks ago, Athena said that she can relate many of her experiences back to something she learned or understands through acrobatics.  And in that way she can communicate to acrobats about her experience using a shared understanding.  In terms of religion and the associated shared mythology and culture, they can relate emotional, spiritual, physical, and social problems and solutions back to a shared understanding.  So that when someone says, "I was hurt when you did this that way," he can follow with, "I felt like Cain when he went over to blah and this dude did this thing to him."   [My Bible knowledge is somewhat limited]  That shared understanding allows everyone to be on the same framework.  It's a shortcut, an index into the psyche.

Breath and visualization meditation

Incense burns; a timer is set.  I settle into my seated position and concentrate on the form of my body.  Satisfied there, I move to my meditation: I place over my eyes a blindfold and call to my mind a white light.  The light starts dim and reddish in my vision, but as I concentrate on it more I can see it brighten and whiten.  I start to have the light follow my breath: starting at the base of my breath and at my root Chakra, it climbs slowly with my inhale up to my throat and mouth.  There it pauses with a stillness in my breath, then returns slowly on my exhale back to my root.  I continue this meditation, just trying to find steadiness and focus on the light and breath.  I add in a root lock at the bottom and a throat lock at the top.  The ball of light cannot be contained.  Its energies want to connect outward.  I see tendrils of light connect the ball to the surface of my skin--a turmoil of lightning trying to equilibrate energies.  I can hear the crackling of the energy.

I let the energy ball sit in my throat a little longer.  I open my mouth to give it more space.  Out of my mouth comes a series of three Oms, slow, steady, firm.  I inhale again and the energy courses up to my crown feeling powerful, but light.  Ding goes my timer.

I smile with my whole being

My mouth smiles.

I feel the corners of my mouth turn up.

I feel my cheeks, my forehead, my nostrils, and my face relax.

My chest smiles.

I feel my chest expand and point skyward.

I feel my shoulders and back relax, my abs swaddle me supported.

My arms and legs smile.

I feel the tone of muscle in my appendages.

Not too much to be tiring.  Strong, controlled, relaxed.

I want to believe

Hrm, this gem was sitting next to the previous.

I just read a segment in a social psych book about the credibility actors get from the roles they play.  For instance, an actor who portrays a doctor on TV may advertise for a drug.

This reminded me of a short-lived crush I had on Jodie Foster after watching the movie, "Contact."  She played a beautiful, intelligent, and very rational scientists.  I was drawn to her by her looks and passion about science and determination to promote it despite political obstacles.

I guess I knew, deep down, that she was merely acting the part, but I wanted her to be that person.  I rationalized that if she could act the part she must at least be somewhat capable of performing such a role in the real world.

But this discussion is merely prelude for my main point, which is I want to believe!  It feels damn good to feel strongly about something, perhaps doubly good if that something is somewhat irrational!

I want to believe in a lot of things.  I want to believe people are generally good-natured.  I want to believe I'll see world peace and en end to hunger.  I want my ideals to become a reality enjoyed by all.

But most of all, I want to believe in my own personal happiness.  Happiness isn't really something you work for, it isn't something you save up for.  It's something you believe in.

Happy radio time

Today's blog post was dug up from some papers I must have written myself many years ago.  Ado begone.


Turn on the radio.  If you aren't happy, turn it up.  I guarantee it, there's some happiness there, if only you look for it.

Techno sucks but it's got a beat.  Tune into the beat.  You don't hear the melody, you feel it.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that beliefs can be irrational.  Happiness is irrational.  Think about your last euphoria.  You remember what you were doing; you know what made you happy.  But does it make sense?   Did getting that kiss from that special someone make you feel happy?  Why?  You've been kissed before.  You'll probably move on.  You were happy because you wanted to, world be damned.

Make now one of those times.  I'm happy.  I want to believe.

Ashley

Names are like clothing: they can decorate a body or they can say something about somebody.  The thing is, names and clothing will always be treated in both ways whether we like it or not.  I might be wearing black because it makes me look slimmer, but that guy who glanced at me labeled me Emo or Goth in a split second.

I like my middle name, Ashley, on both these levels.  I find that "Ashley Jordan" has a beautiful ring to it (as does Jordan Ashley, perhaps due to the trochee effect), but also because it sounds vaguely pornstar: roguish, manly, a little bit unusual.  This is also why I like what it says about me.  It's masculine (Gone With the Wind, Army of Darkness), unusual (I am hoping to remain the only male Ashley any of my friends know about, at least for a while), it is soft and feminine (the value of which has really blossomed in me as those who know me can attest to), and it is goofy and boisterous (I think the name matches my stripy pants and lion-tamer jacket better than my original).

I know I will be judged, like it or not, on not just who I am and how I present myself, but the clothes I wear and the name I wear.  Thus I have made a conscious choice to project more of who I am through my name, one my parents gave me, merely permuted around, one I hid for many years in shame, one I now proudly call Me.