I quit my job today

     I quit my job today.  As the days passed, I could not help but realize my growing dependence on external objects in order to rationalize the position that I had recently accepted.  As it turns out, the only salve for working one of the few positions truly repugnant to my character is to enjoy to the fullest all of the things that selling out will entail.  As it turns out though, there is just no substitute for being happy with the contribution that I (he/she/it/they/Fido) am making in the world.
     It’s funny, because there is just an enormous amount to unpack in the acquisition and eventual termination of my brief stint working for the man.  We could start by wondering on the allure of capitalism, the passive operants which made the idea of selling things for a faceless finance corporation palatable, yet alone acceptable.  We could talk about recoil, about a life that returns to from substantial self-destruction (all those memories I don’t have, and so on) all the way to the other extreme in the name of running from our true nature.  We could expound on more benign qualities of my time there:  meeting new people, exploring a subculture that only the United States could create, perhaps even the racial implications of work by shift date (I worked second shift, and suffice to say I was the Cracker minority).  We could talk about all of those things, and perhaps in time I will, but I cannot help but notice the reason which finally snapped me out of my cube monkey insanity:  the hidden assumption.
     The hidden assumption comes to light at a crucial period not only personally but in a societal way as well.  Basically, I am talking about all of the implications of holding a given belief, especially the ones that we are not aware of on the face of things.  Take my job for example:  by working for Wells Fargo (I won’t even get into the actual job description), I was forced to hold some beliefs which twist my stomach into a knot even in retrospect.  
Like the notion that Wells Fargo is Ok.  Now I know that some of you might do your banking there, some might be just overjoyed at the idea of banking with a company with wagons, but at the end of the day, in my world, the corporation is nothing more than one which took a grievous and naive error by yours truly and mercilessly pounded him for every dollar that they possibly could (I’ll spare the details, but it was gruesome).  So to work for that corporation is to betray what I believe, for how can one truly accept working for a company which can ask to overlook obvious and insidious conflict of interest.
So aside from asking me to forgive the evil empire, we’ll talk about my reasons for sticking with it as long as I did.  The money was fantastic, I had a window cubicle, and I got to read in between calls.  Now pause.  Wait for it, wait for it, wait for what?  Exactly, those are terrible reasons to hold any sort of employ, one which forced me to hold some things as dear which just could not be thus and so.
We’ll start with money.  All those who know me well, and many who are passingly acquainted will quickly tell you that “Doing it for the $$” just isn’t in the vernacular.  As a function of being crucially poor though, I tried it.  That belief that there was a price on what I hold dear, coupled with the necessity of proving that my job “wasn’t all bad” leads to the new belief that there are things which are ok assuming that the right price is involved.  Of course my only answer is that there is never a reason to do something which is good enough to overcome what you know to be wrong.  I could reiterate it throughout the remainder, in every paragraph to come (it’s implicit) but better to italicize and assume it to be true from here on out.  So to right the idea of working for the weekend, I also had to believe that things (esp. greenbacks and the things to be purchased with them) could be even nearly as rewarding as values.  So also says the junkie as he/she trades the spirit for a fix.
A window cubicle then?  No, no, no.  Remember, watching nature a poor facsimile for being in it.  I watched the day slip away, every day from 11:30-Sundown, reasoning that “At least I’ll get to watch the day go by, it could be worse.”  I won’t even honor that idea with a treatment.
Reading on the job.  The best reason of them all, yet still insufficient in terms of the trade (you know, my soul for creature comforts).  Suffice to say I was quickly reduced to reading only WF acceptable material, and if you can imagine what that might be, suffice to say if it wasn’t financial, I couldn’t read it.  Ugh.  Even better, the reason that I couldn’t read what I would like was under the idea that if a superior walked by, we would seem unprofessional.  Right, like staring vacantly out the window could ever compare.  Also, look at the further assumption here.  Now, I have to believe that because my job allows my to slack a little, that is, get paid to do something in addition to my primary responsibilities, that it is ok.  Forget that you are learning what you have only a passing interest in.  Don’t dare remember that your output to the world rewards no one but a potentially monopolizing company.  And so forth.
So I cannot claim that I necessarily got too much of a point across, but when we move on, we need to vent, hopefully in an interesting way at least.  That aside, we need to stop thinking that the idea of a trade-off is acceptable; for every rationalization we make, we are affecting the deeper value system that lay beneath it.  Just in saying we’re doing something for, say x, y & z, we are also inevitably relegating other, probably more important ideas to a less prominent place in order to sleep better at night.  I cannot escape the notion however, that the world has evolved to a place where we might just be able to tailor the world to our needs.  So never sell yourself short, and if you must make concessions (we all need to learn to play well with each other, after all), really be aware that the ripples of consequence will travel into areas that only become clear upon deeper examination.  That said, I’ll be outside, call me if you need anything.

Staring down the night

     At times, the best way to explain is to be simple.  To all those whom I have ever handled carelessly, my deepest apologies.  To those who have been unkind to me, you are forgiven.  There are few moments which can capture the understanding of all that there is in the world, a true realization that perhaps there is more beauty and reward in each moment and in each person than we can ever hope to take in, let alone understand.  To all the moments spent wasted in worry, trapped in what might have been/could become, to all those past freedoms I give nod.

So to each moment to come, I deeply bow.  You are the opportunity to reveal all the brilliance that lay just beneath the surface of the goings on.  Each instant to come provides for the generation/continuation of a picture of a world colored with a palate of my own design and choice.

And for the only moment I can truly have, this instant here and now, I applaud.  Perhaps you will be the beginning of an idea which will change the world.  Perhaps you will be forgotten from my conscious; either way you mark an instant which can never be again:  a sui generis point which can be only the way it is and no other way.  There are no alternate realities, right and wrong, good and bad, merely differing perceptions of the same ever unfolding timeline, made propositional by the schemes we create.  

Behind the words, behind the explanation, lies the ineffable.  It has no definition, and it cannot be pinned down.  It can be sensed, and occasionally communicated, but any attempts at quantification are rejected as trite, undeserving.  I see you as you truly are, at the same time everything and once and nothing at all.

And so to you, oh world I breathe you in.  I hear your silence, I feel your presence.  From the gentle envelope of gravity to the circulation of the blood throughout me I acknowledge your existence.  And by taking you in and affirming you I affirm every moment past and future.  So a toast, to all that is and what will be, and to all that was, and shall never be again.

To all who have shared in the journey, a round of applause.  To all who will be joining me, I look forward to your acquaintance.  To those with whom I have parted, for whatever reason, I carry you with me, and you will not be forgotten.  Goodnight, and sleep well

Diacriticism

Always something new to learn, always some new lead to follow up on, inevitably something else going on behind the scenes.  It had occurred to me that perhaps there has to be a reason why we all aren’t running around living our lives as we saw fit, and the expense of all the hassle and noise that inevitably seems to accompany our lives.  Perhaps there are a few reasons, but most important now is the notion that perhaps we all still live in one way or another on paradigms and ideas that are over 100 years old.

Now I know, I know, nothing Victorian about you:  you the enlightened youth and elders of the mid Otts.  You’re savvy, prejudice free.  Well, probably not (check back when you’ve clean out your closets), but the point remains that you’ve carved out your own little niche in the world:  you know your passions and pleasures, pains and problems, and they make up the unique individual called you.  But how does one manage to express these desires, to carve freely our own path, with a damn-you-if-I-must attitude to self actualization?

I’m still dealing with that little quirk of life, but it hit me recently that perhaps we shouldn’t be so hard on ourselves.  In fact, the idea of psychological individuation (being and behaving as we are) is one that has only seated itself very recently, in terms of history.  Think for a moment about the Industrial Revolution.  Before this great leap of technology, the only one’s who actually had the leisure time to figure out who they were and what they wanted to be were the wealthy:  everyone else was toiling in the fields, breaking their respective backs merely to eek out a living for themselves and their families (not much time for yourself, eh?).  

But with the Industrial Revolution things changed some.  In fact, they changed a lot, and for the more leisurely.  Good thing right?  Not necessarily.  The industries that flourished were those which allowed the lower-middle classes to behave like the social classes above them.  Thus the beginnings of being unique came in the form of buttons and hats, teapots and lace.  They had nothing to do with ideal; rather they were a salve, differentiation on a mass scale.

Now we may turn our eyes to the United States, where this production changed slightly, with it the opportunities to individuate.  Henry Ford furthered the ability of the common folks to further behave like the rich with this assembly line idea in the early 20th century.  

This is about when the idea of the unique self really began to blossom.  Now the leisure items of the rich were available to the masses.  What to choose?  Which style do I want?  In fact, what do I want? The questions seem trivial now, yet think for second the immense freedom our ancestors must have felt having the brainpower to spend on what particular luxury item they would like to complete themselves.  Thus we were handed the ability to be ourselves, as defined by the things that we want.

But we are still removed from the idea of supreme individuality of self.  The assembly line, the advances in technology, they were all focused on the notion of copying what the more affluent had/were up to  There were more choices now, and more leisure, now more celebrities to copy style from, more affluence to aspire to, more people to be like.  We were still on the cookie-cutter mentality, even though there swiftly because many, many cookie cutters to choose from.

But I digress.  One of the hardest things in my adolescence was having the ability to differentiate between the things I own and the thoughts that I think.  It’s easy to think that the items we have define who we are.  I smoke copious amounts of ganja, I must be a hippie.  I’m in khakis, must be a yuppie.  I am then out of step is I don’t behave like the stereotypes associated with the things that I own, got to align the ideals (I never consciously thought that, but it’s at play).  And so on.  In the end, coming to grips with the jock/stoner/intellectual/artist/insert-your-preferred-description-here meant understanding that none of those labels fit:  none of the cookie cutters could even touch what I had discovered to be my preferences and desires.

So if you’re having a day where you might not feel like you are being all that you can be, take heart: it is the generation of my contemporaries and I (and the era for everyone else) in which we are permitted and able to decide our lot in the world.  The saturation of personal services, from yogalates to scientology now allows our interaction with the world to be almost exactly and only what we make of it.  So just think that perhaps, the circumstances haven’t been right, but they certainly have become so.  Throw open the windows of how you actually think, rather than how you were told to.  People are ultimately defined by what they create, and there are no rules on creation except for the limits of your own imagination.  I cannot help but think that society is in a great position to redefine itself for the better:  and it is only through our free expression that this is possible.  Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

Witting unwit

Even in the realm of people watching, I have found that there are as many ways to analyze the extent and content of human interaction as there are to read the Cantos of Ezra Pound (if you haven’t read this, give it a shot, though I warn you, it’s quite the trip).  The other day I decided to change the way I look at third party interaction and, just like realizing what the Wall actually meant or figuring out why crack dealers still live with their mothers (it stands to reason that they might be able to better, but no, no, no).

Anyway, the new lens through which I focused discourse was in terms of power.  Mind you, when I started I used a very broad form of power, that being the control that one person or idea exerts over another.  To clarify:  most of us can look at a couple, or conversation, or even our own thoughts, and see who (or which, qua our minds) carries the most force (power, hand, clout, say it as you will).  Some would call this the interplay of dominion and submission, extravert and introvert, but whatever we use; the overwhelming idea is one of precedence.

Now with precedence I have to admit subjugation (natural antonyms), and to watch these concepts in action I couldn’t help but notice an interesting phenomenon.  In all of the interactions that involved these polar ideas, I couldn’t shake the underlying notion of choice that wove its ubiquitous hands throughout the very fabric of the interaction.  All narration aside, even the most one sided interactions had an unforeseen element of intentionality.

By that I mean that the people involved in my armchair psychology were always (if unconsciously) trying to cement the place that each actor thought he/she should have.  Said another way, whether we mean to or not, in all of our interactions we attempt to prove who we think we are, rather than what we could be.

Now I know, enough on the personal responsibility thing.  But the more I see the more I believe that our lot is life is one that we choose.  Perhaps we were not held as children, perhaps we were.  Perhaps being held meant grappling with drunken family, perhaps it meant a loving embrace.  There’s a chance we were told that we would amount to nothing.  There’s an even greater chance we were told we could be anything.  But did we believe it?  Did we see our childhood affection (or lack thereof) as a sign that we were worthy (or worthless, as the case may be.

At basic, I have to say that we are in charge of not only how we perceive ourselves, and nothing more.  We have no control how others perceive us, at least not insofar as objectively changing the perceptions of others:  the only change in how we are seen is through the manifestation of how we see ourselves.  Thus if we decide to know for  ourselves that others are better than ourselves, they will be; if we believe ourselves we deserve a kind, smart, attractive unique mate with an esoteric yet undeniably appealing character we will find one.

I mean, try this one on…can something other than what we believe actually be the case?  Don’t take this one lightly; really think about what holds real weight in your ontology (things that we propose exist).  Think of the major successes our lives (we all have at least a couple, no crap from the dramatic folks):  it was from an unwavering belief in the veracity of our actions which kept us from succumbing (sadly, it only takes a little faith in failure to make that the case, but that’s a whole other can of worms).  But in the end, we did it yea?  And we wanted to take a megaphone to the nearest rooftop and let all those who thought we couldn’t do it know that their lack of faith where they could shove those ideas.

But I believe I digress.  The pith of all this is the idea that we are and only can be what we believe we are and what we will be.  Thus our lot in life is no one’s fault but our own.  Just look very carefully at the thoughts you think and how those thoughts which you believe so easily and constantly reinforce themselves though conversation and general interaction.  And for those who are confused as to why they aren’t where they though they would be I would say only that it isn’t because you are failure, but because you fail to realize that there are a million different ways to achieve the same goal:  perhaps it isn’t you, just the paradigm you are currently running on.  I would argue that so long as you live as you would like to live (you, just you, be selfish for a minute) you will succeed in the way that you want to.  If you could lead a proactive life, how would you run things?  Would you like to render the latent disparity of power and its resulting influence all together?  It isn’t a pipe dream, it’s just been forgotten amidst the sound bites and self help seminars.  Stay well, and good night.

specious communication

Sound bites and talking heads, quips and quotations, synopses and summaries, small talk and casual exchanges:  as of late I’ve been noticed the superb lack of real, full communication that our society seems to tell us is ok.  Sitting at work yesterday, I began wondering about the ways we converse, be it via email, snail mail, over the phone, face to face, and the ways that most of those aren’t conducive to getting to know someone, let alone talk about something that actually captures reality.

Said another way, I’ve noticed how little people actually listen to each other, in the sense that the listener actually tries to take in the point of what the speaker is trying to convey.  And to all those out there who like to think they are fantastic listeners, I invite you to remember the last time you empathized with someone.  Not in Hollywood sense, or the “I’ve been there” scenario; what I mean is talking with someone while assuming that my conversant is an intelligent, right individual.  

By intelligent, right individual, I mean a person whom we seek to understand.  Unless my approximation is off, in most conversation we still cling to the notion that our opinions are the ones that are actually backed in reason, while the opinions of others are in some way flawed, or misguided, or some other expression of poor design.  To get an idea of what I mean, take the first person you know that comes to mind when you think of “weird.”  Chances are this person just makes no sense, the type where you wonder if they aren’t perhaps dropped from the latest passing alien orbiter.  If the imagination doesn’t quite work, then take a good friend, or better yet, check yourself out.  That done, really try to think about what you know of them, really:  not the snap decisions or rumor or hearsay,   or what you think you think:  what do you really know of this person?  Try to understand them on their terms.

I only bring this up because I celebrated the Chinese New Year yesterday.  See in the real word, the Chinese New Year started in January, but in the corporate universe, we celebrate on a lazy Thursday to coincide with a birthday and training class “graduation” (seriously, Office Space has leaped from top 10 to top 3 as of late).  Point is, I had to mingle with my co-workers.  

Normally, I spend my days buried in a book, with breaks to talk to people on the phone.  I don’t get to chat much with my co-workers, except talk about that local sports team and other smallish chatter (although the weather remains untouched, probably because most of us stare out at the same windows with the same view; “heard its going to snow” doesn’t really matter when you can look out 8 ft windows to see for yourself).  Thursday though, we had to find someone we didn’t know, and learn about them.  So I learned that one co-worker never stops thinking about $$, ever.  She never talks to anyone, and what she told me is that when she gets home from work she goes to her computer to figure out how to make more.  I did not know this.  But what I also didn’t know, and started to become aware of, was that this was a woman who has made money her one true friend, and the thing was, she didn’t seem at all unhappy about that.  And while I would never really befriend this woman, it really has shed a whole new light on the reason why she never speaks to anyone except the customers who she beligerizes all day long.  She isn’t strange:  based upon the priorities she has her behavior is perfectly natural.  

Or another example.  I have a co-worker who is typically very quiet.  In fact, the longest conversation we have had consisted of “I heard there’s an enzyme in cheese which relaxes the mind” (I haven’t found if that is true, but in related news, milk has Vitamin D, which is also found with exposure to sunlight – go dairy).  What I found out when I finally got a real paragraph in was that she is a world traveler who actually mentors Romanian orphans.  Romanian orphans?!  No one expects Romanian orphans!

What I mean in all of this is the idea that perhaps we don’t know as much about what is going on as we would like to think.  This applies as much to misunderstandings and disagreements with our closest loved ones as it does with the examples above.  More than the words that come out of our mouths, it is the priorities behind them that carry the real meaning.  Next time ask yourself the why, as opposed to getting caught up in the what.  Because the minute you think you know what is going on, it will be proven abundantly clear to you that you don’t.

Note:  I’ve found that writing is in no way like riding a bike.  It only takes a week to really take the edge off the mind.  Now I sit, staring at the words that I have just written, and wonder if what I write will have any real relation to what I was trying to convey.  Regardless, I intend to better use language in the next couple posts, because we all have better things to do than wade our way through poorly expressed ideas.  And to everyone born in the Year of the Dog look out:  this year’s going to be wild!