Over the coming months, I must do some contemplation and introspection about my future. Such a task will require return to the wisdom of my old master of teaching, Socrates: "Know thyself." A side note: Socrates taught me to teach through questioning. I credit my use of "why" during teaching sessions to Socrates. Unfortunately, I'm not well read in Socrates's work; however, those two principals: "Know thy self" and teaching through questioning have stuck with me.
I digress (and will continue to do so). As I enter my third decade, I find myself analyzing and reviewing my previous year(s). This is not new, for I do it often and especially as my personal new year's day comes and goes. The question of happiness arises. In most respects I have forgotten what happiness feels like. I know what it isn't. I can identify others' experiencing it. I have the capacity to know and feel the difference between a negative and positive event. However, I feel no capacity for true happiness. I know I once had his capacity; however, I have forgotten what it feels like or how to identify it within myself.
This has been true for over a decade and a half. I cope with the deficiency well (consider the length of time I just mentioned). However, at times this reality moves to the front of my mind. For what ever reason, it has been lingering in my conscious thought for longer than normal. An obvious question may be "what would make you happy?" I cannot answer that, for I don't think I truly know. Focusing on this aspect of me with the scurnity required to find a solution is like staring at a beach and focusing on one grain of sand that is of average color. I either (a) don't know thyself enough to have an answer (b) fear what the answer would be if I truly participated in introspection, or (c) know thyself well enough to know there is no answer.
This pointelss rambling will soon come to a close. This post is why I haven't written a blog entry in over three weeks or haven't recorded a podcast in over six months. There is nothing substantive that I can share.
]]>It was curious that Christmas fell on a Sunday this year. Even though I do not follow any organized religion, the holiday of Christmas has greater significance to me than any other holiday. For me, it is an opportunity that is always reserved for family time--regardless of the time challenges our world presents. The break my job affords me during Christmas gives me time to reflect and plan for the upcoming year.
It's also fun to watch Christians celebrate this (for their religious canon) all-important holiday. It's enjoyable to watch the absolute joy involved for these folk to celebrate the birth of the keystone individual in their religious beliefs. This year's Christmas celebration seemed extra specials today is Sunday--often reserved as a day of worship for Christians. I attended the Christmas service at New Bridge Baptist Church in Cleveland, GA. My attendance was there not for the worship experience but for the family experience--several members of the maternal side of my family were in attendance.
The service was a traditional county baptist "preaching." I sang with the choir, which I always do when I visit. It was a fun experience. The folk singing aren't professional singers, but it's good folk enjoying music as a tool to enhance their experience. The service itself had a different kind of fervor for it was recanting the all important story of the birth of Christ on the day that the Mass is celebrated.
At the end of the service, the preacher always makes a call to the congregation to name folk the congregation needs to support by keeping them "in their prayers." Today's call was a bit different, for we were remembering folks who had been lost or were/are to be honored in the present/from the recent past. Rarely do I participate with this, for I feel a detachment with the worship aspect of this experience; however, today I did participate. I asked the folks to remember the family of Jerry Coleman. I explained that they likely didn't know who Jerry Coleman was and further explained that he was a former student of mine who perished earlier this week. I asked the congregation to keep their Coleman family in their thoughts while they cope with the tragedy of losing a child--especially during the week of Christmas, which (I didn't explain, for it goes without saying) is a holiday so focused on time with the family.
I hope, reader, this was a good day for you. Among all of the great family time today, the above event help make this day, the wonderful day I recall it being for many years and will hopefully contine to be for many years to come.
]]>However, I have no capacity to write fiction or to tell a story. I wish not to hear the argument of "the more you practice writing fiction, the better you'll become." I already know that. I'm not concerned about the skill. I know that can be developed over time. I'm writing about the ability and capacity without which the skill cannot be present.
All fiction writing I've "produced" to this day has been nonsensical garbage. I lose all command of the language when attempting to write fiction. The words I write have a depth of thought akin to a brainless slime. Even though I'm attempting to write fiction, where I can create my own rules of logic, etc., I cannot produce text with any cohesiveness. The writing is segmented and reads of a person incapable of creating consecutive thoughts that complement each other. The ability to create worthwhile topics is not worth mentioning.
What is curious is that I can write in a formal setting / voice. My command of English is there when I write for research or when I write about another's work. With my self-critique, I will not slash as far as to say I cannot write, for that would be untrue. I can write. I simply can't write when it is only I creating the narrative. I can write about others' work. I can write to describe a process and its conclusion. Those two areas require either another's work or my own non-written work (If I attempt to describe the process and conclusion of my writing, I fail.).
My mind and knowledge of English simply do not allow me to create the substance. Eventually I'll accept this reality, and not bore your with the cyclical lamentation.
]]>My experience in music has led me to discover pieces of music that illustrate the final crossing from life into whatever is next. This prelude came to mind today. I decided to place the link before the text, so you would hopefully take a listen before you read my thoughts on the piece. I am convinced there is a transition out of life where the etheral part of you (i.e. your soul/spirit/etc.) moves away from your brain and transforms itself for whatever comes next. I think that during this transition, there may be some "conscious thought" left within the soul. Albeit, such thought will never be experienced as we know conscious thought, rather it'll be whatever is recorded by your soul to be its final memories of the time spent on the plane of existence where we all reside.
This prelude describes how that transition feels. In mortal terms, it would be described as floating. However, the actual motion wouldn't be random as floating indicates--nor do I see it as direct as flying. I suppose I see it more as a detachment. As the body is either worn to its last or is compromised so that it is incompatible with life, the soul simply detaches itself from wherever/however it is one with the body. That process of release is what Bach captured with his notes in this prelude. As the piece progresses diatonically and chromatically, I hear that as the encoding of the aforementioned conscious thoughts into whatever memory capacity that our soul has--if its is memory as I know it at all. I also hear this middle section (development--or fantasia as Wynton Marsalis calls it), as the remaining consciousness of our soul looking down at its former host as its transformation happens. I know I am anthropomorphizing the concept of a soul, but my descriptions are limited by my strictly human experience.
The final statement of V7 (where the pedal tone C has a major 7th above it in the tenor voice) and subsequent resolution to tonic (with the final 4-3-2-3 in the melody) is the completion of both the transformation and transition. The V7 is one final look at the end of the mortal experience and the I begins whatever comes next.
]]>Eventually, we will all play the losing card. For some of us that may be simply the final breath we draw as we end many years of the experience of life. Others may unknowingly play that card, when cranking up their vehicle one unlucky morning or evening. Some others may willingly play that card, when they determine their life should end.
Other lyrics of the song lack certainty--especially the title. There is no true way to know. At the moment of death, we cross into the next plane of existence with no opportunity to express to the remaining mortals wether or not the last moment of life was with or without pain. However, our potential to play the losing card is absolute. It will happen. The only question is when.
The quesiton of when is a whole discussion within itself. I question the wisdom of describing my position on this blog. Unfortunately, educators are governed by the court of public opinion, which, or course, rarely considers facts and is immune to objectivity. Mental health and its pathologies are still taboo for many folks; thus, me trying to objectively discuss the issue of suicide strikes me as unwise.
The above curbing of my words disturbs me, for I try to live by two principles: (1) Do not live in fear and, most importantly (2) Truth always. How can I live by "truth always" when I said I "do not live in fear," yet, succumb to the potential of above paragraph?
]]>Do not comment with the argument of "its the hotel's policy to have no pins; thus, the person should've worn a pin of a U.S. flag anyway." If you do, then you clearly miss the greater point.
Now, (I can feel my blood starting to boil), I have no patience with political correctness. I'm a firm believer in you can say the truth without being a jerk; however, the notion of no one should ever be "offended" (which is a word I abhor with no exceptions) by anything said or displayed is ludicrous.
Rarely do I type with all caps; however, this message is simple and must be heard in the way I would shout it: IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY SEEING THE UNITED STATES FLAG, THEN LEAVE THE UNITED STATES!
I become infuriated with "citizens" who tap all of the resources available to them through citizenship that refuse to embrace the symbols of the United States. You'll notice my useage of the United States, and not "America." America encompasses many different countries. I'm focused entirely on the United States of America. I am loyal to only the United States of America, and if you wish to consider yourself a citizen of the Unites States of American, you should embrace opportunities to display or gaze upon one of our most important symbols: the Flag of the United States of America.
Do not lob arguments to me about fair-weathered patriotism. I.e. I'm writing about my loyalty to the United States just because I saw some news story. I do not campaign daily only the virtues of the United States, and I do not feel such a campaign is necessary. It is understood that being a citizen, I believe in such virtues. I will say this. If the Star Spangeled Banner is being played or sung, my yap is shut (unless I'm singing the first verse), my hat is off, I'm standing at attention, and my right hand is over my heart until the hymn has been completed. Even though I follow no organized religion, I say the Pledge of Allegiance in its entirety every day at work. "Under God" used to bother me, not anymore. Rather than asking the quesiton of "who are you to have "Under God" in an official state text," I now ask "are two words really that significant if we're supposed to be accepting of all faiths in our citizenry?"
Do the aforementioned acts make me "better" or "more patriotic" than anyone else? No. It is simply how I display it. It's the same as a person wearing a flag pin or someone singing the hideous song, "God Bless the U.S.A.," and cheering for the late cymbal crash near the end of the tune.
Onto "forced patriotism."
What keeps any culture alive over time is the teaching of tradition. How can our children assume an identity as a United States citizen, without understanding basic ideals of patriotism? I think (for any form of school system--but especially with what's currently available) if there is government-mandated primary and secondary education (and the requirement for most to be in a government-maintained school), then certainly the government of the country it represents should teach then later require some basic acts of patriotism toward said country. As mentioned parenthetically, I think the Pledge, the Star Spangeled Banner, and other symbols of our country should be taught even if education was privitized and there was no government presence at work. Again, IF YOU DO NOT WANT YOUR CHILDREN BEING REQUIRED TO LEARN AND DISPLAY BASIC SYMBOLS OF PATRIOTISM, RENOUNCE THEIR (AND YOUR-IF NECESSARY) CITIZENSHIP AND LEAVE THE UNITED STATES!
As I have mentioned before when commenting on illegal immigration, I would expect nothing different from any other country. If you are a citizen of France, I would expect to see the expectation that the citizenry should be respectful of national symbols and have a knowledge of vocal symbols of patriotism. I don't think it would be unreasonable for children to recite a pledge of allegiance.
Perhaps this issue can be described and solved with some simple questions: If you do not pledge allegiance to the United States, how can you call yourself a United States citizen and reap the benefits of citizenship? If you are ashamed or offended by the presence of the Red, White, and Blue, how can you call yourself a citizen? Finally, if the thought of being identified as a United States citizen disgusts you, then why not renouce your citizenship and emigrate, rather than remain and be misreable?
Final comment--this was effectively stream-of-consciousness writing. Quips about minor grammatical and mechanical errors will be ignored.
]]>Back at the matter at hand. . .
[pause]
Here is a post inside of a post. I was about to write "Back at the matter at hand, the word that was actually used in the film by Dr. Wick to Susanna (Winona's character) was "ambivalent." However, I decided to look up the quote, and and both "ambivalent" and "ambivalence" are used.
Back to the actual blog post. . .
The quote can be read here. It would be nice to trace the information in the proceeding text back to my childhood, but, alas, much of the memories of thought from my childhood have faded. I do have some specific memories, but day to day mental processes are gone. --
Ambivalence has been a part of my human experience for the entirety of my adult life and I suspect a good chunk of my pre-adult life. One of the most common examples of its presence that I describe to others is music and medicine. There was no coin toss, but the decision on what to study during my undergraduate years was effectively a coin toss between a track toward music or a track toward medicine.
Even now I feel strong pulls from both. I often ask myself whether or not I should retool my skills and begin the medical phase of my life. I suppose it is ironic that I'm fairly sure of my goal of study: Osteopathic Medicine. The pull of medicine is particularly strong when I have less than acceptable days as an educator. What concerns me is trying to weigh these two interests 20 years from now. What would have become of the time in between?
According to the 10th Edition of the Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary, "ambivalence" is defined as
(1) simultaneous and contradictory attitudes or feelings (as attraction and repulsion) toward an object, person, or action
(2a) continual fluctuation (as between one thing and its opposite)
(2b) uncertainty as to which approach to follow
Ambivalence manifests itself in many ways in my life. Tonight's two and a half consideration of playing a video game is a prime example. Mind you, I didn't sit and ponder this and only this for that span of time. I had a good conversation with my best friend via Skype; however, during that conversation I could not decide whether to play a PC game (then which game), a PS3 game (then which game), read (then which book), or simply go to sleep. This happens often with one exception, criticial decisions (i.e. classroom situations and other interests related to my job).
I'd be curious to learn the line between ambivalence and indecision. I do think career interests and fields of study fall under the mantle of ambivalent, for I'm passionate both about education, music, medicine, and technology. I seem tethered to music and specifically music education, for that is has been the focus of all of my collegiate education (both undergraduate and graduate work). For other items this line is not as clear.
I could go further and describe other opposing forces within me, but methinks that would be both boring and insigificant to the reader. It would require me to delve into my inner demons, and frankly, I feel people don't truly care to know what's actually inside the mind of other people. Such caring seems to be more of an exercise to see if your thoughts are as, less, or more dysfunctional that another persons.
I may have to write another blog post before a month and a week passes. I seem to have opened two extra topics withn this one. Curious how that seems to fit the title.
]]>I recall years ago (almost eight if I recall) writing about something I've referred to as "the other voice." I wrote in reference to a significantly difficult summer I experienced in the early 2000s. The more I consider, I think I've written about "the other voice" a few times.
I'm not expanding on what "the other voice" is. Part of me wishes to, but the other half knows the filter that I'm required to put on my speech. I suspect some of my readers (ha! plural. . . delusions of grandeur) need no explanation. If you wish for me to explain it, contact me. If appropriate, I'll inform you.
I've re-read the above text, and am appalled by its poor quality. My first inclination was to delete the post. I've decided against it for one reason. I always criticize the quality of my writing. This blog post is the example I'll use should I have the need to support my criticism.
]]>I'm unsure if my bowling experience tonight (related to being even keel) is a curse or a blessing. I'm a member of the Lousy Bowlers League at the Brunswick Zone in Norcross. If you're unfamiliar with league bowling, you typically bowl three games during an evening's competition. Tonight two of my three games were average and what I describe as "meh:" 165 and 135. My second game saw me luck into the highest score of my bowling career (if memory serves me right), 257.
Here is where the merits of being even keel must be discussed. I am not unhappy about bowling a 257; however, I didn't display behavior of being "thrilled" either. I make a point to stay even keel during the league for a couple of reasons: (a) Keep myself calm and (b) not annoy nearby bowlers. The problem exists within. In my efforts to remain calm and flat, I think I managed to crush the internal elation that should've come with such an achievement. Considering it now, I feel nothing.
I know there is no answer to this other than simply alter how I think; however, I can't for this event. The event has passed. The only opporunity I will have to try experience elation in relation to this again, is by bowling a game higher than 257 -- highly unlikely. There is little point to this post, aside from the insignificant musings about how one can apparently fail at the most natural part of the human experience: feeling.
]]>I must draw a definition before going on. I understand that failure is a part of life and that some wisdom comes from failure. The aspect of failure that I'm criticizing in this post is the choice of failure. Yes, choice. There are situations within your life that avoiding failure is beyond your control; however, I believe those situations are few in number.
I'll illustrate this from the perspective of a performing musician. Wrong notes are never acceptable. When playing or singing, note errors must be corrected as soon as possible (or prevented through strong reading techniques). Wrong notes do occur though (i.e. when sight reading a new piece). After three rehearsals (an arbitrary number), those same wrong notes are now a choice. It is curious that the performer rarely plays wrong notes with the intent of playing wrong notes. The choice comes with the performer refusing to take, find, or make the time to correct the wrong notes.
That choice of laziness is the choice of failure. The laziness protects the existance of the wrong notes. Musicians have more at stake than personal failure due to the choice of laziness (and in my opinion, mediocrity). When a musician within a group of musicians chooses to be lazy, their wrong notes affect the product of the entire band--regardless of how well the other musicians have prepared. What's worse are the circumstances where the wrong-note-performing musician finds humor in their mistakes (mind you I'm not talking about sight reading. I'm talking several rehearsals into the concert preparation process). If playing wrong note is so entertaining, why would you remain a part of a group committed to playing the correct notes? I don't know the answer to this. But when this situation arises it causes my blood to boil.
Luckily, the aforementioned musicians are (in my experience) uncommon--even among beginning musicians. As they are learning the basic skills of their instrument, mistakes are going to happen. However, they strive to correct them--even if this correction takes multiple attempts. Such a number of attempts is different than a young musician either (a) choosing to play the wrong note or (b) not caring enough to try to improve their playing.
I am not immune to the mediocre mode of thinking and behavior. When I identify it in me, I am angered just as if I detect in others--moreso even. I could probably make an argument of the merits of mediocre behavior; however, it would be in conflict with what I believe. My conclusion is this: If mediocre behavior and effort have to exist, why must it manifest in situations where (a) others are directly affected or (b) where you have made an effort to particpate in an activity then choose to be mediocre.
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