Human Nature

The Art of Aging

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Forty years ago tomorrow, I was the father of two boys: one age five, the other was two (two years later we added a daughter to the pride). Tomorrow would be my 30th birthday.

I was the navigator on a B-52 bomber crew. I recall that as I was taking a shower about fifty yards (roughly 45 meters) from a nuclear armed airplane cocked and ready to go blow the crap of somebody, I was quietly lamenting my age.

B-52D Navigator's Position
B-52D Navigator’s Position

I would no longer be in my twenties. I thought that I was not young and never would be again. I was knocking on the door of middle age, or so I thought. I was feeling down because I was turning the dreaded big three-zero. “Don’t trust anyone over thirty” was the phrase. I still don’t really know what that means. I just knew it was bad.

A Young B-52 Crew Dog
A Young B-52 Crew Dog

Our society convinced me that I was getting old and that I should be sad about it. In four days, that five-year-old I mentioned turns 45. He and his 42-years young brother really are middle aged, and their baby sister is knocking on that door. I was not old, but I was depressed thinking that I was. Thanks to our shallow, f***ed-up, foolish American culture that values all the wrong stuff in people, my thinking was foolish (and not only about age).

birthday 70 1Is it all that important to be a thin, white, dark-haired, strong, male member of this country? We seem to think so. I hope that continues to change.

We have to pass laws to keep people from discriminating against older people, and the age in the law is 40. WTF? Forty is not old. Again, forty is not old! At most, it’s lower-middle aged.

And if you plan to call this foul-mouthed, hard-drinking, Fightin’ Texas Aggie, Irish-Welshman elderly; you best be certain that you can kick his ass. Because this one is standing straight-up and walking your way (in silence) to demonstrate that old is not elderly!

But, I will indeed become a septuagenarian at midnight tonight. In the game of life, I will be at ‘Level 8.’ I’ve literally been there, done that, and have the scars to prove it (which I wear proudly). I am on a first-name basis with my cardiologists, and if my peripheral vascular surgeon would do a better job, I would be running three miles a day, instead of walking. I ride a Honda Forza motor scooter because my 800-pound, 2007 Yamaha Royal Star Tour Deluxe touring motorcycle got too heavy to pick up (last year). But I still ride on two wheels. I’ve retired from the jobs that pay, but I work every day. I’m a writer and do volunteer work. My only boss is the one I’ve been married to for 50 years.

I like people and I want them to like me. But I also don’t give a flying f**k what anyone else thinks of me or my opinions, politics, religion (or lack thereof), foul language, or beer breath. I do not, and never will, wear socks with sandals. I remain a teenager of the 60s.

birthsday 70 6I am retired. All the shit/crap that I put up with for all those years of school (nuns-groan), yes, sir and no, sir; kissing up to very few idiot bosses (most were great), scrimping and saving and working – it was all worth it. As my wife would say, “Rave on, dog shit!” And so I do. Every day is a weekend and I can do what I want (with her permission—I’m old, not stupid) whenever.

I want to be happy and I am. My last meal will truly be a good pizza (my wife makes the best) and a fine stout brew. When the time comes, I want to walk into Dr. G’s office and say, “Time to shut it down, Doc. It’s been a great ride and I’ve loved it all. Let’s talk about the final git-er-done.” But that day is some ways off. Getting old is not dangerous, driving on our roads is.

Get ready big eight-zero ‘cuz here I come. ~ Me

birthday 70 3

I toast the good health of my birth year (1946) peers: Cher, Barry Gibb, George and Laura Bush, Bill Clinton, Donald Trump, Linda Ronstadt, Sally Field, Ed O’Neill, Reggie Jackson, Daryl Hall, Jimmy Buffett, Dolly Parton, Tommy Lee Jones, Al Green, Loni Anderson, Cheech Marin, and others. We’re still kickin’ the can down the road.

birthday 70 8

May you have love that never ends, much money, and many friends.

Health be yours, whatever you do and may the universe bless you and yours. Rock on, my friends.

I’ll publish my promised blog on creativity this next Friday. I am also tinkering with one on recovering from middle age (men only, I am unqualified for the experiences of the softer, better looking, and smarter sex) because I have been there and done that too.

Creativity: Human Trait or Magic

Big Magic1I’ve been trying to figure out how to review Elizabeth Gilbert’s book. Developing a plan for a contrary opinion of Big Magic is like trying to figure out how to swim upstream against hordes of powerful whales and others going against me. The book has an 89% four/five-star approval on Amazon. The high praise of editorial reviews includes: #1 Globe best seller, the Washington Post, Cosmopolitan, Huffington Post, Daily Beast, Harper’s Bazaar, Christian Science Monitor, New York Times, Associated Press, Yahoo, Seattle Times, USA Today, Vanity Fair, O Magazine, San Antonio Express News, and a few of my friends.

Ms. Gilbert is a ‘rock star’ author who has had big success (Eat, Pray, Love). I have no right, nor the credentials, to discredit her or her writing in any way. Nor do I want to. In fact, if you are a person whose creativity suffers due to your personal fear, this may be a good book for you. It is an easy read with no back matter such as extensive endnotes or research to distract you. The language is very simple and you’ll not need to look-up anything. She makes it all very clear and elementary, which I like.

If you are interested in marketing, check this out. This book is, in my opinion (and that of several others), a marvel of marketing – this baby was sold! Before I expose my dark side, I want to say a few more positive things about this book. For whatever reason, I’m glad that I read Big Magic and I may even read it again.

Big Magic2

For a while, I thought that I would like to forget it and move on with my life. I tried, but Big Magic won’t let me. I finished it weeks ago. Now, it refuses to go away. Why? Well, Big Magic was recommended by fellow writers, friends, and (like Elizabeth) creative people. I’m certain that my friends and Elizabeth each have hundreds of ideas, inspirations, and creative moments to my one. I think that is fine. Big Magic notwithstanding, I can only do one thing at a time.

Originally, my only purpose in writing a review was to get Ms. Gilbert and her damn book out of my thoughts so that I can do whatever I want without thinking more about it. But this is personal. Like many others, I am interested in creativity and often wonder why I have an issue with mine. Books like this usually apply to the author’s life experiences and Gilbert’s is no exception.

Like many (or most) people, I’ve struggled with creativity in that ideas don’t seem to just come to me. But they do come. Sometimes I seem to have them. At other times, they are handed to me by other human beings. When I was still working at my 8-to-5 day-job, I liked what I call ‘idea men’ (women too, but in my world there were few females). These folks were very good at concocting thoughts of better ways or solutions to problems. Often, it was good stuff. It was their strength. I enjoyed setting things in motion to accomplish the good ideas of others.

76876-duendeIn trying to figure out how to handle reviewing her book, I’ve decided not to. Instead, I plan to write several blogs on creativity and associated aspects of that human phenomenon, paying special attention to writing, my own issues, and my point of view. I also plan to add other books and input from others to the mix. If you have suggestions or input, please add your comment.

Butt Man Bill

But man2Two memories from my youth relate to this post. I recall my mother frequently telling me that I was contrary. She would say, “Now Billy, stop being so contrary.” She could have chosen from many words: obstinate, difficult, stubborn, negative, or silly. Actually, that’s not true. She used silly a lot, as in, “Silly-Billy.” I actually liked being called silly and still do. Today, such a fun-loving attitude coupled with silly behavior would prevent a diagnosis of Oppositional Defiance Disorder (ODD).

But man6As a youngster, I did have more than my share of confrontations with adults, especially those in positions of authority. I admit it. Mom was right (aren’t they all?). I was often contrary and many synonymous terms applied equally well. I confess that I enjoyed being difficult, most of the time. Sometimes, I paid for it. Some say I never outgrew my contrarian attitude.

But man5The other memory comes from the time of my early to mid-teens. I don’t know where if came from, but we adapted a phrase for a while that was intentionally meaningless, but we said it – a lot. It was kind of an early version of whatever! We would say it to each other and often to adults. We always knew exactly what the adult retort would be. The locution was Yeah, but, or yeahbut. Today, the Urban Dictionary says yeahbut should be followed by f**k, but we seldom used those words in combination.

Most often, but is used as a conjunction to introduce something contrasting with what has already been mentioned. Adults insisted on asking, “But what?” We knew we were pushing buttons when we looked them straight in the eye and answered, “Yeahbut.” Silly kids, right? I confess to deliberately irritating adults given any opportunity.

 

But man1However; yet, nevertheless, nonetheless, even so, still, notwithstanding, in spite of that, for all that, and all the same; I do like butts. Some more than others.

But this is about me being a but man. As I said, but is usually used as a conjunction. It is also used as a preposition (anyone but him), an adverb (to name but a few), or a noun (no buts, you’re buying). Add a t and it becomes slang for a body part. But is a useful word.

It is also a word that I overuse. In my writing and speaking, I am rightfully criticized for saying but too often. Twenty-one times out of 350 words so far in this post. But, it is the subject, after all (22). When I edit, I look for the buts and remove or change as many as I can. But not in this post. At the beginning of a sentence, that is most often when it is there, it changes nothing in terms of meaning. My use is not always as a contrasting conjunction. But there’s more.

But man4

I am a quiet, introverted man by nature. I’m not very shy. The larger and less familiar the group, the quieter I will be. I am happy to let anyone banter endlessly about virtually any topic with no sound from me. I listen closely and analytically (Usually – some might say I don’t listen at all). At some point I might say it. In one-on-one conversations; especially the heated, no attributions kind we have with trusted friends, I will eventually say something. My comments in such environs are often preceded with facial expressions and perhaps a raised eye-brow or two. Then out it comes.

“Yeah, but….” (or just but). Sometimes I fancy it up with things like however, on the other hand, consider this, did you know, or maybe so, but…. I can also be passive aggressive with things I learnt from the younger folk like whatever, ya think?, really?, or my personal favorite: No shit? I like to add Sherlock to that last one, but only when it wouldn’t be offensive (accidentally).

A couple of weeks past, I got to listen to my middle child (now 42) recite a verbal rampage on his view of politics and life, with all the arm waving and facial expressions to have gone viral, had I recorded and posted it.

I really enjoyed listening, even though I couldn’t get a word in until he finished. It was an enjoyable banter, indeed. To be fair, I could see myself. When he finished, I smiled at him and said, “Wow!” and tried not to roll my eyes. I decided that if I said ‘yeahbut’ I would have turned the page to the next chapter of his ranting objections to life in this real world. Sometimes, we just need to sit on our butts and keep our buts to ourselves. Yeahbut moments should be carefully chosen.

Yeah, but.
Yeah, but.

Book review: The End of Faith by Sam Harris

The End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason by Sam Harris

Disclosure: I like Sam Harris and agree with much of what he says.

End of Faith2The End of Faith has been reviewed extensively since its first publication, but I need to pipe my opinion. With my gradual understanding and knowledge of Sam Harris, this book came to my attention as an eventuality. I’ve read only one other of his books (Islam and The Future of Tolerance), but I intend to read them all. I like his approach and what is, in my opinion, his open mind regarding universal principles which not everyone (atheist or not) shares. Anyone who thinks that all atheists share the same thoughts, opinions, or principles with each other does not understand them. The thesis of this book is no exception.

Many people see the book as his attempt to dissuade people away from their faith, and maybe Sam would agree. Knowing what I have experienced with people of strong religious faith, it will take more than this or any other book. But, for those with serious doubts and deep questions, this is a valuable resource. This is a book written by an atheist who is critical of all religion, especially Islam; at least in terms of the radical elements of that faith. So for anyone emotionally sensitive about the criticism of religion, this may not be the book to read.

Sam begins The End of Faith with a bit of historical fiction based upon fact. He describes a scenario in which a young man boards a bus and explodes a bomb killing many people, including himself. This act of terrorism sets the stage for the remainder of the book.

In several chapters, Sam makes a number of claims which I first thought were outlandish. But after reading his explanations, I came into agreement with him. Two such examples are the problems enabled by western religious moderates and the evil of pacifism.

End of Faith1

The textual material in the paperback version that I read was only 238 pages. That includes an Epilogue and an Afterword. It is not enough. However, these are followed by 64 pages of extensive end notes that provide more details. The bibliography is comprehensive and furnishes the more curious reader ample resources on the topic for more than a year of study. A useful index ends the book.

The copyright page indicates the years 2004 and 2005, so he probably wrote this in the 2002 to 2003 timeframe – a year or two after September 11, 2001. The world has not been static since then. In other places I have heard Sam admit that he has learned much in the dozen or so years that followed publication of this bestseller.

In at least a couple of his podcasts, Sam talks about this book and defends a lot of what he says. But he also explains what he might say differently today, or what different words he might now use to say things and why he would. The two podcasts can be found here and here and are worth the time of the serious reader. In the second, he spends a lot of time talking about presidential candidates and what he thinks of them. He is not a supporter of Donald Trump, but he also sees Clinton as a ‘lesser evil’ vote. Eventually, he gets around to the book.

I enjoyed reading The End of Faith. I’ve never found anyone who writes on such topics with whom I agree 100%. Sam Harris is no exception, but close. For me, this book is informative and educational. As he says, “I know of no society in human history that ever suffered because its people became too reasonable.” A comment right up my ‘snarkastic’ alley. I selected a couple of quotes from the book that I liked.

“There is no denying that a person’s conception of the afterlife has direct consequences for his view of the world.”

“Religious moderates are, in large part, responsible for the religious conflict in our world, because their beliefs provide the context in which scriptural literalism and religious violence can never be adequately opposed.”

I need to get busy reading because I think Sam Harris is working on a new book. I don’t like it when these guys get ahead of me like this. God knows, I may actually learn something.

End of Faith3

Spiritual Poetry

I love the spiritual nature of this poem.

rainyday1

      The Rainy Day

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

       ——-By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

rainyday3

Longfellow invokes the value of our dark days and the transient nature of life for each of us.

What does his poem say to you?

rainyday2

What do you want?

The first of three questions I think everyone should be able to answer quickly is ‘What do you want?’ I’ve always felt that few of us think about that. We may have short term goals or we may want some things to come our way. But the ultimate answer, while not illusive, is something we seldom ponder. I say this with the opinion that for virtually all of us, the answer is simple, easy, and nearly the same for everyone.

What Do You Want ?As I listened to an interview with Christopher Hitchens, I was surprised by something he said. I’ll get back to that in a minute. Frist, I want to talk about the genesis of the question and my answer.

Beginning about 25 years ago, my life began to take some very significant turns. Much significantly changed for me. My life was on track, then it was not. This life transformation continued for years. Much of it was unpleasant, disruptive, sad, and shocking. The unhappier and more miserable I became, the more I thought about what had happened and what all was going wrong. I’ll save the details for a memoir. Suffice to say, shit happened and stuff changed.

This led to a rather spiritually reflective time for me. I read a lot of spiritual books, studied religions (some more lightly than others), and pondered what I thought were important life questions.

I don’t recall when or how I came across the brochure. It was titled Oh Happy Fault! A Confession of Hidden Sin by Vinny Flynn. In the brochure, Flynn confesses that his sin was being unhappy. Silly as it seems, that resonated with me because I realized that I was unhappy, or depressed, or both. Either way, what had been going on inside me (where no one could see) was the same. This led directly to my reading three books and indirectly, discovering one other.

Fully Human, Fully Alive, by Fr. John Powell, SJ
Siddhartha, by Herman Hesse
Man’s Search for Meaning, by Victor Frankl

About the same time, I also read, The Seven Story Mountain, by Thomas Merton.

Question One7

The result of all of this was that I made two decisions. Actually, I made many decisions and continue making them, but early-on I decided that I wanted, or perhaps needed, to be happy. I knew that I was unhappy. So I decided to be happy. More importantly, I decided that my happiness was up to me – that I could do something about it. It took a long time for my happiness to improve, but it did.

Jump ahead about six years. I found myself conducting classes for other very troubled people. They were not exactly unhappy (some were). They didn’t seem to have any focus about anything. In my opinion, they had no world view. One of the questions I would regularly as them was “What do you want?” Their answers sounded like a list of shallow, adolescent ideas about hot cars, money, and hot men or women. The blank stares and silence I got when I asked ‘why’ disguised their answers of ‘who the hell cares?’ With that experience, I have continued asking people the same question for years. “What do you want?”

Question One1

I’ve always thought everyone’s answer should be ‘happiness.’ During the Christopher Hitchens interview, he said that he did not think that he wanted ‘happiness,’ but wanted ‘satisfaction.’ I liked Hitch, but on this answer we would disagree. Maybe he felt that happiness was too much to ask for. Anyway, at least one dictionary indicates the words have synonymous meanings. There is a difference. Even though satisfaction implies having our needs met, happiness involves our state of mind regardless of needs.

Question One5

I’m skeptical of some folks wanting to be happy. Some people seem happy by not being happy, or not wanting anyone to know they’re happy. It’s like if anyone knows, they will set out to ruin my happiness; therefore, I mustn’t appear happy. Maybe they really are just waiting for something bad to happen, or maybe they seriously do not want to be happy. Maybe they think there is a happy tax.

Question One6A satisfaction tax would make a lot more sense. It seems like things may satisfy us, but we decide to be, or not to be happy. How would we measure and estimate a tax on feeling good?

Anyway, I hope you are happy now. I also hope that Hitch is satisfied and Mick Jagger (after all these years) can get some damn satisfaction. I mean, how long does a guy have to wait for that?

 

Frat Friday (12 Step Programs)

12 step 7

I’ve experienced much of life. Part of that experience included years associated with, learning about, and practicing aspects of a 12-step program. While I wasn’t trying to recover from chemical addiction, I wanted to know if this was a viable option for friends and loved ones. The experience was beneficial.

The aspect of the human condition that allows us to be overcome by addiction or related problems (eating disorders, sex, food, etc.) is an interesting and frightening mystery. Loss of control is one of our shared basic fears.

I attended numerous Al-anon, AA, and NA meetings. I’ve talked to people who support “the program” and some who don’t. I have read about the successes, failures, and marketing deceptions (or just lies) of recovery treatment programs.

I loved this movie.
I loved this movie.

Critics and supporters of these programs abound. While I don’t take a position for or against, there are several pro or con issues that should be pointed out. I want to write this for two reasons.

Disclosure: I have not actively participated in a program of this nature in more than four years. But I did for over 16 years.

First, 12-step programs are generally religiously or godly (“higher power”) based. While many members will take issue with this, many others will not. Furthermore, steps 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 11, and (to a lesser degree) 12 are based on involving or invoking a god. Meetings within the USA usually  are specifically of a Christian nature and theme. Because Christianity is the predominant religion of America (and much of the world), it brings a clear religious bias to meetings, groups, and fellowships. However, at least initially, groups are generally open and accepting of members who are not Christian. They are supposed to be. However, the discomfort level experienced by non-believers at such meetings is understandable.

Second, I’ve been asked about, and I have wondered about, how non-believers manage a program that is so obviously in opposition to their core beliefs, or non-beliefs. I recently read a blog by a former meth user, Jerome. He got me to thinking about ‘the program’ again, and about this question. His view of NA is rather caustic. Based upon what he told me, he has a point – several, actually. It was not just that it was based on god or religion that was off-putting for him. It seems to me (and he may correct me) that his biggest problem was the negatively obnoxious “this is the only way” attitude of the group leadership he encountered. In my experience, this is one of the unfortunate problems with AA and NA. Less so in Al-anon, but those members are not trying to overcome addiction.

12 step 5To be fair, when I was in a leadership position with a 12-step program, I told members that they either worked the program, or they did not. It was up to them. However, them telling me that the program was not working when they were not ‘doing’ anything but attending meetings indicated other issues. I was taught, and I have always believed that we each have a right to our own program. If that program is not working, something should change. Recovery is too complicated to go into all of that detail in one blog.

I think many aspects of the program provided me with a path to better things in life. Criticising the program for its faults is fair enough, but I prefer not to throw the baby out with the bath water (cliché, but apropos). Twenty years ago, the program helped me to deal with ‘me’ and how I felt mentally, physically, and spiritually.  Eventually, because of my experience with ‘the program’, I decided that life for all of us is really all about how we feel.

12 step3

The following short list of adaptations reflect my program. I think everyone can benefit from this approach, addict or not, believer or not. It reflects what many program people might call Bill’s (me, not Bill W.) ‘experience, strength, and hope.’ In parenthesis, I credit the AA program step I adapted for my personal use.

  1. People die from denial. When we have a problem, we need to admit it. (AA step 1)
  2. Do you know you? You can do your own self-analysis (or get help from a counselor, shrink, or knowledgeable friend). It’s fun and rewarding, but it can be difficult (took me about a year). In past blogs, I’ve written about three questions I came up with while teaching a secular recovery program. I consider them helpful: What do you want? How do you want things to be? If you could change anything about the future, what would that be? There’s a lot more to this ‘self-inventory’ and discovery process. It could be a whole program unto itself, but I think it’s worth doing. (AA step 4)
  3. If you do harm to someone, apologize for it (if you mean it). If you owe a debt, pay it. (AA step 9). Sooner is better, in my opinion.
  4. My favorite is when you are wrong and you realize it, admit it quickly – to yourself and to someone who cares. I don’t know how much drama this removed from my life. I suspect even more of my drama was removed for my friends, family, and work-mates. (AA step 10). I personally don’t advocate apologizing for error, if no harm is done. I have been called arrogant for this. It’s a personal choice. We are all often wrong and that’s okay.12 step6
  5. I think there is something good and symbiotically beneficial in helping others. We should help people where and when we can, and we should be open to receiving help. (AA step 12)
Seriously.
Seriously.

 

This is a limited list. In many ways, living a healthy and happy life is much more involved than what I have said.

I suggest we each intentionally choose and do our own program in life, live as healthy as possible, keep learning, and laugh until it hurts.

If you are considering a 12-step program for any reason, I see no reason not to give it a try. As they are fond of saying, “We will gladly refund your misery.”

 

 

 

Frat Friday (Ego)

The Paradox of The Writer’s Ego 

EGO: “Noun. A person’s sense of self-esteem or self-importance. Synonyms: self-worth, self-respect, self-image, self-confidence.”

 

Ego4Some people think that ego is a bad thing. In a way, they are right. In a way, they are wrong. A wooden plaque (given to me by a friend) hangs in my room so that if I (ironically) hold my nose up, just slightly, I can see it. It says, “Humility is not one of my faults, but if I had one, that would be it.” Before you attack my lack of profundity, my friend made and gave the plaque to me as a bit of an ironic joke (I hope).

I recall my father using descriptive phrases like “too big for your britches” and “Who the hell do you think you are?” One might think such comments  damaging to my ego or creativity and may have hampered my development. My ego survived and my limited creativity seems fine.

In my thinking, ego has little direct effect on creativity regardless of its health or condition. We writers (all artists?) are diverse people. But we are people. All kinds of folks paint great landscapes. George W. Bush paints, and he is better at it than I am. Who knew? The former Prez was hiding an artist all that time.

There are many web sites and books to help us write better. Most of the tidbits I learn from them are helpful. However, I often wonder if Stephen King isn’t right — they are all BS (from somewhere in On Writing). My point is that while we’re all different in many ways, we seem open to writing better.

I spent my entire life preparing to do (and doing) something else. After I gave all that up and retired, I woke up one day and declared that I am a writer. It was not who do I think I am? It was what I am – a writer, because I said so. That is ego. But is it evil or bad? Am I egotistical? I said nothing of quality, and I am a QA professional. I am as good at writing today as I can be. Tomorrow I want to be better. I am also as good as I can be at spelling, and my spelling is horrible. My writing gets better each day, my spelling does not, and my ego is managing.

Ego1

 

Most of the be-a-better-writer advice I’ve read says we need to dump our ego to write (or do anything) well. Other things say we should believe in our abilities and work hard at it. Unfortunately, changing who we are is more difficult than changing the tire on the family Ford. I think that if I work hard on this blog and do the research, it should be good enough. My ego tells me that I can do this. I can do it. I can get my point of view across. That is self-confidence – ego.

Ego3I’m making the claim that ego is mostly good for writers. I presume that it is good for artists who work in other forms of artistic expression. I also think that being humble is good and being courageous is good. I also think that each of us should do what works for us. We’re unique individuals who share a passion (if you want to call it that). I admit that an out of control ego is a problem for more than just the narcissist, and egotistical people have their issues. But over-blown personalities write and sell books too.

Narcissism: “Noun. Excessive or erotic interest in oneself. Synonyms: vanity, self-love, self-admiration, self-absorption, self-obsession, conceit, self-centeredness, self-regard, egotism, egoism. In Psychology, it’s an extreme selfishness, with a grandiose view of one’s own talents and a craving for admiration.”

 

“Egotistical is excessively conceited or absorbed in oneself; self-centered. Synonyms: self-centered, selfish, egocentric, egomaniacal, self-interested, self-seeking, self-absorbed, narcissistic, vain, conceited, self-important; boastful.”

Then there is the paradox. I like to refer to myself as a “wannabe” and I see no reason to reject that. I think my skill and my work improves each time I make changes or corrections. My writing improves every time someone reads it and tells me what they think of it. My ego can, and often does, take a beating. At some point we stop all of that. We are ready for what is the painful process known as “getting it published.”

Ego2We need our ego to launch the work to readers. We need to believe that we can and want to do it. We also need to deal with whatever criticism and rejection we encounter.

Our poor egos. Our old friend stands ready to push emotional pain buttons with every rejection or criticism. It happens. And it happens most often to wannabes. But it’s part of the process, if you want to be published. After enough of this ego pounding us with emotion (can our egos survive all of this?) we may want to stop writing.

sad6To quote from Poe’s Preface to a republishing of his poems: “These trifles are collected and republished chiefly with a view to their redemption from the many improvements (made by publishers)…I am naturally anxious that what I have written should circulate as I wrote it….” He goes on to say that it is not that his work is that important, but the people who read it are. Ego?

The writer’s ego is a good thing. From day one, it is at the core of our being able to do what we want to do. But ego is not good at dealing with the humbling experience of rejection. I am sure the damage done too often leads to quitting. But, if we quit, do we say, I am not a writer?

If you want to read more on this topic, check out the following.

Insecure Writers Support Group (IWSG). This looks like a good site for all writers, insecure or not. Two other interesting blogs on writer’s ego are here and here.

Frat Friday (I felt that, Mr. Poe)

When our child was ill, my task was to directly address her illness with an emotionally written letter. I was to tell the illness how I felt, about or toward it, or how it made me feel.

passion15Three days of toil produced words born of emotion, but laying bare only thought and opinion. That challenge to produce expressive discourse full of feeling was riddled with notion and conviction of purpose, while lacking passion. Such analysis had merit and value, but I had so missed the deeper inside of myself that it might have been mere opinion drawn from a detached stranger. Those mindful barnacles of human grief remained anchored to my thoughts, thus hidden except from me.

Why, I wondered, could I not find letters for my aguish? My internal emotional awareness was no less keen than my intellectual understanding of the presence of the illness that was harming our family.

passion16Knowing my feelings was not enabling my telling about them. Had I created a self, unable or unwilling to express feeling? I wondered deeper if I had co-opted with a force to create an emotional Dorian Gray. Were my feelings doomed to be confined in the shadowy attic of my mind? Had I become so adept at emotional deception that I habitually prevented expression of feelings? Had I become factually superficial and emotionally shallow, thus apparently less than a human lacking outward feelings?

 

Consciously or not, my ability to express emotionally was crippled. Historically, I’d been an extremely emotional child, inside and out. Perhaps as an adult, I was the same, but kept my feelings hidden. I had emotional awareness and comfort. But learned how to mask emotion and display a filtered emotional public persona. I was willing to affectively express my feelings, but until attempting to express them in writing, I was unaware of my handicap.

passion7Twenty years hence, my awareness is of two worlds. An external world full of social interactions, judgements by and of others, and basic human needs. This is the world of people wearing masks, hiding feelings, and struggling silently with internal and external burdens. It is a world we need in order to sense the other world – a deep world that is hidden from others and often from our own self-awareness.

 

The other world is not physical. It has no physical activity. But, it has a silence that we hear, a darkness that we see, and a hearing to which we speak. The other world has no touch, but we feel it. It has no eye, but it sees all. It has no physical strength or power, but it controls our external world in every way. We each have this real world, and it is exclusively ours, separated from the independent and silent world of others.passion12

Real physical life is driven by emotion. While I know nothing of death other than its certainty exceeds all other events, if I must lament any loss – it is losing my emotions. Furthermore, the one I will regret most is same emotion that Edgar Allen Poe held so dear when he said…

“With me poetry has been not a purpose, but a passion; and the passions should be held in reverence: they must not – they can not at will be excited, with an eye to the paltry compensations, or the more paltry commendations, of man-kind.” (1845)

 

passion14

 

I want passion like that – uncontrolled by logic, analysis, profit, adulation, science, or ego. I want my reason for being and my reason for doing to leap from the shallows of purpose to the depths of passion. Whatever my passions, I want to keep them and to take them with me. I want to feel passionately happy, to be passionate about art and poetry. Maybe I will learn to write passionately about my feelings. Just for now I want to let the world know that I love my passions and lament their loss with life itself. And before I go, I want to write with emotion.

Frat Friday with Thomas Merton

Disclosure: I do not practice or align myself with any religion. I have in the past, I no longer do. This blog is not about what I do or don’t believe.

I’ve never known when someone would come into my life and make a difference. There have been many, both good and bad. Many have shaped who and what I’ve become. Such influential encounters have happened more times than I can remember. One of those people is the subject of today’s Frat Friday blog.

I’ve never met this man. He was accidently killed in 1968 during my sophomore year in college. At that time, I had never heard of him, and if I had, I would’ve had no interest in him, his life, or his outlook. I discovered Thomas Merton in the late 90s, almost 30 years after his death. I was inspired and intrigued by his autobiography, The Seven Story Mountain, published in 1948. Through his writing, I met the right person at the right time.

As I see the man.
AS I PICTURE HIM – REAL

Thomas Merton was one of the most prolific spiritual writers of the 20th Century, a Cistercian Monk, and a mystic. In 1915, he was born in France of a New Zealander father and American Quaker mother, both artists. His mother died in 1921 and he was raised by her family. Merton wrote and published more than 60 books, mostly on spirituality, social justice, and pacifism. He wrote many essays and reviews. Another 30 (or so) of his works were published posthumously and many other of his writings have been released to the public.

Merton1What impressed me about this man was his complexity, his courage, and what I see as his wisdom. His life journey and the decisions he made will likely prevent him from ever being canonized a saint by the Catholic Church. Yet those foibles are exactly what attracted me to him twenty years ago, and continue to influence my thinking. The man was a real person – a human being who behaved like one. If they did make him a saint, I think he would be among the most human of that group.

In the early 1940s, Merton went to a Trappist Monastery in Kentucky, knocked on the door, and told whoever answered that he wanted to be one of them. Trappist Monks are strict aesthetics and followers of the Order of Saint Benedict. Merton chose this life and lived it until his death. The Frank Sinatra song, I Did It My Way, comes to mind despite the obedience pledge of Trappists.

Beginning about 1937 during his conversion to Catholicism, Merton was fascinated by what he learned about the eastern religions. From then on, he studied Buddhism, Taoism, Hinduism, Jainism, and Sufism.

Thomas Merton with Dalai Lama
THOMAS MERTON WITH THE DALAI LAMA

His primary interest was in Zen, particularly as it applied to Christianity, from his point of view. Within limits, Merton supported interfaith understanding. He pioneered dialogue with the likes of the Dalai Lama, the Japanese writer D.T. Suzuki, the Thai Buddhist monk Buddhadasa, and the Vietnamese monk Thich Nhat Hanh. Many of Merton’s books on Zen Buddhism and Taoism are still in print.

 

“Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.” ~  Thomas Merton, No Man Is an Island

My favorite description of him was by Paul Hendrickson in the Washington Post on December 22, 1998: “Thomas Merton: that bohemian and poet and extreme sensualist, lover of jazz, prolific man, traveler of the new idea. A 20th-century prophet and mystic. Not a theologian so much as a kind of freelance spiritual thinker.”

While I can’t honestly say that Merton makes as much of a difference in my life today, he did at a time when he was the right person with the right thinking. He had prepared for me, fifty years before I needed it. I am not sure exactly what it is that still holds my admiration for and curiosity about him, but I suspect it is how he lived within his human condition.