I worry a lot.
I worry about what I'll do after I leave Japan, I worry that I'll never find a good stable job, I worry that the world will collapse in fiery horror tomorrow--or maybe the next day.
"Worry is like paying interest in advance on a debt you may never owe." - Anon/The Internet
I also worry about very small things, like when people will show up to the party I'm throwing. I definitely take it to extremes. However, I'm unwilling to say categorically that worry is an unproductive emotion. I think it can be a spark or something you wallow in.
So what do you do with that spark? The only two things, in my experience, that make worry go away or lessen are 1) ignoring or forgetting the problem and 2) doing something to better equip yourself to meet the possible impact of the worried-about event.
Is one option better than the other? Probably not. Like most things, a balance of the two is required to get you anywhere with strength. (Absolutely zero I'm saying is new, by the way--if you'd like to distill this down to "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference" you can probably skip this and wait for the next post...)
Let's work with the broad worry that is the spark behind this blog and this time in my life. I worry that the markets will crash, oil prices will skyrocket, food will become scarce, and everything I've ever taken for granted in my life will disappear. Episodes of "30 Rock" only allay these fears 20 minutes at a time, so that's just a stopgap.
The key is to see even that grim future as an opportunity, not a shattering as much as a shifting. We live incredibly protected, rich lives in the developed world, but we fear so much. I see everywhere in my generation that people are turning off when they are presented with bad news because they are simply sick of being told what to fear and worry about.
We have more safety and comfort than 99% of the humans who have walked the earth, so what are we afraid of? Is it not possible that at a certain level of protection and luxury our deeper centers of confidence and strength weaken and tremble with disuse?
These challenges in our world deserve to be met, charged, not merely reacted to. And all these wonderful bionic/technological tools give us incredible power to shape the world around us, for better or worse--but how often do they instead become our worlds?
Friday, February 4, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Why This Blog?
What is the nature of a tool, and how is it different than a crutch? What is the nature of addiction and dependence in an interdependent world? What do we lose when we become separated from the basic processes that sustain us?
I have recently come to the realization or belief that the world will change immeasurably in my lifetime, and sooner rather than later. For a quick primer on why I think so, check out the Energy Bulletin and The Automatic Earth, which I've linked to on the right. Please take some time to examine that material for yourself; I would welcome any debate on the conclusions presented.
Industrial society has allowed many of us the luxury of specialization. Farmers grow my food, and a huge chain of people sanitize, prepare, and package it for my quick consumption. Construction companies build the apartments I rent, where a convenient system of pipes and wiring means I've never had to wake up and wonder where my water, heating, or lighting will come from. Society has decided that if I teach children (or bartend or perform onstage with the right frequency/success) that's all I have to contribute to get the benefits of the whole. That's a pretty sweet deal any way you cut it.
But what would I do if that was taken away? And what does existing in that system tend to take away from me over time?
I tend to think our technological triumphs have come more quickly than our moral ability to handle them. And if we turn our amazing new tools into crutches we lose the perspective necessary to use them responsibly. In keeping with the fractal nature of the universe, I feel this to be just as true for the remote control as for the nuclear bomb or the car or the genetically modified organism.
If you've ever used crutches you know that they strengthen some muscles while letting others atrophy. But what if the muscles we're talking about aren't just on your left calf? What if they're all over your body? What if they're psychological, or spiritual?
"The danger is not so much that we will be controlled by the computer as that we may imitate it." --Norman Cousins, Human Options
I'm no Luddite. After all, I'm writing a blog. But it's our great privilege at this point in history to be able to both use the incredible tools we're developing and reach back into our ancestral history to reaffirm what makes us human on the deepest, most unalterable levels.
So I'm setting out to relearn, to rediscover, to remember.
I was deeply affected by this post from The Automatic Earth about the recent shootings in Tuscon. It's worth a full read if you have the time, but what brought me to tears was the simple and devastating quoting of Paul Simon:
In early memory
Mission music
Was ringing 'round my nursery door
I said take this child, lord
From Tucson, Arizona
Give her the wings to fly through harmony
And she won't bother you no more
This is the story of how we begin to remember
This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein
After the dream of falling and calling your name out
These are the roots of rhythm
And the roots of rhythm remain
The thesis of this blog is that the roots of rhythm, and the roots of life, do not lie in an iPhone or a comfortable heated apartment or in the modern conveniences we bury ourselves in. Those conveniences can help us along our way, and certainly make life longer and more pleasant--and the connectivity offered by modern technology might yet be the catapult to a way to truly save the world--but the roots of rhythm endure and exist outside of those conditions.
I suppose I could have just made a list of New Year's resolutions and kept it all to myself. But I know that this blog will help keep me on track and motivated, and could hopefully serve as a place for discussion and inspiration. The paramount idea, of course, is that we all stop reading the blog.
I remember a period in sophomore year of high school that most headstrong, snarky know-it-alls must go through while we read Thoreau and Emerson. If they say not to read books and to skip school, I smirked, why are we in school and why are we reading them? I credit Ms. Lott enormously for restraining herself to a calm challenge to make good on my threats. Later, I grew up and realized that every book, every class, every teacher, and every experience is just a starting point. If you live in the lesson you'll die there too.
I'm a reasonably competent, college-educated 25 year old, but I will be lost in the woods when it comes to many of the skills I have in mind:
--growing food
--mechanical and electrical proficiency
--sewing
--structural carpentry
--emergency medical aid
--alternative and herbal medicine
--endurance running
--...any other suggestions?
I'll spend a day or a weekend trying to get by using zero external energy (I'm already shivering in anticipation of the cold shower). I'll turn off my computer and iPhone for stretches of time and document the change in my attention span and the feelings of the experience. Hopefully some of it will be funny as well as thought-provoking.
And if it turns out I never need any of it because they start making fusion cars next week and we all get our consciousnesses downloaded into robots, at least it'll be a good story to tell.
I have recently come to the realization or belief that the world will change immeasurably in my lifetime, and sooner rather than later. For a quick primer on why I think so, check out the Energy Bulletin and The Automatic Earth, which I've linked to on the right. Please take some time to examine that material for yourself; I would welcome any debate on the conclusions presented.
Industrial society has allowed many of us the luxury of specialization. Farmers grow my food, and a huge chain of people sanitize, prepare, and package it for my quick consumption. Construction companies build the apartments I rent, where a convenient system of pipes and wiring means I've never had to wake up and wonder where my water, heating, or lighting will come from. Society has decided that if I teach children (or bartend or perform onstage with the right frequency/success) that's all I have to contribute to get the benefits of the whole. That's a pretty sweet deal any way you cut it.
But what would I do if that was taken away? And what does existing in that system tend to take away from me over time?
I tend to think our technological triumphs have come more quickly than our moral ability to handle them. And if we turn our amazing new tools into crutches we lose the perspective necessary to use them responsibly. In keeping with the fractal nature of the universe, I feel this to be just as true for the remote control as for the nuclear bomb or the car or the genetically modified organism.
If you've ever used crutches you know that they strengthen some muscles while letting others atrophy. But what if the muscles we're talking about aren't just on your left calf? What if they're all over your body? What if they're psychological, or spiritual?
"The danger is not so much that we will be controlled by the computer as that we may imitate it." --Norman Cousins, Human Options
I'm no Luddite. After all, I'm writing a blog. But it's our great privilege at this point in history to be able to both use the incredible tools we're developing and reach back into our ancestral history to reaffirm what makes us human on the deepest, most unalterable levels.
So I'm setting out to relearn, to rediscover, to remember.
I was deeply affected by this post from The Automatic Earth about the recent shootings in Tuscon. It's worth a full read if you have the time, but what brought me to tears was the simple and devastating quoting of Paul Simon:
In early memory
Mission music
Was ringing 'round my nursery door
I said take this child, lord
From Tucson, Arizona
Give her the wings to fly through harmony
And she won't bother you no more
This is the story of how we begin to remember
This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein
After the dream of falling and calling your name out
These are the roots of rhythm
And the roots of rhythm remain
The thesis of this blog is that the roots of rhythm, and the roots of life, do not lie in an iPhone or a comfortable heated apartment or in the modern conveniences we bury ourselves in. Those conveniences can help us along our way, and certainly make life longer and more pleasant--and the connectivity offered by modern technology might yet be the catapult to a way to truly save the world--but the roots of rhythm endure and exist outside of those conditions.
I suppose I could have just made a list of New Year's resolutions and kept it all to myself. But I know that this blog will help keep me on track and motivated, and could hopefully serve as a place for discussion and inspiration. The paramount idea, of course, is that we all stop reading the blog.
I remember a period in sophomore year of high school that most headstrong, snarky know-it-alls must go through while we read Thoreau and Emerson. If they say not to read books and to skip school, I smirked, why are we in school and why are we reading them? I credit Ms. Lott enormously for restraining herself to a calm challenge to make good on my threats. Later, I grew up and realized that every book, every class, every teacher, and every experience is just a starting point. If you live in the lesson you'll die there too.
I'm a reasonably competent, college-educated 25 year old, but I will be lost in the woods when it comes to many of the skills I have in mind:
--growing food
--mechanical and electrical proficiency
--sewing
--structural carpentry
--emergency medical aid
--alternative and herbal medicine
--endurance running
--...any other suggestions?
I'll spend a day or a weekend trying to get by using zero external energy (I'm already shivering in anticipation of the cold shower). I'll turn off my computer and iPhone for stretches of time and document the change in my attention span and the feelings of the experience. Hopefully some of it will be funny as well as thought-provoking.
And if it turns out I never need any of it because they start making fusion cars next week and we all get our consciousnesses downloaded into robots, at least it'll be a good story to tell.
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