getting your chance to try
I am _____
I do _____
I have ______
I would like to be _____
I want to do _____
I want to have ______
You?
It might help if you imagine the present as the past. It might help to imagine the future as the present. You're constructing your life right now - awesome isn't it. You're writing your life story. You're exploring your life's path. Choose your metaphor/frame. Okay, so don't fill in those blanks - they're limiting. But ask yourself some questions like that.
And do it again, maybe not tomorrow, but sometime. Make it a ritual.
What are my addictions: not gum, not coffee, not tobacco, not alcohol, not poker, perhaps exercise, perhaps showers, perhaps tea (sometime in the future). I often tell people to choose their addictions wisely.
Today, I was up early for an eye appointment - they didn't tell me much, so I'm going to hope that no news is good news. And I don't really like bad news. Okay, I'm sorry - that might be a pretty bad reference - I apologize. At any rate, I have to go back to get my eyes dilated sometime - the person said I wouldn't be able to read/drive after getting my eyes dilated, and I didn't feel like today was the day for that.
Last night I had an interesting conversation with someone (friend of a friend) who has worked in an animal experimentation laboratory at the University of Minnesota. She took care of the rats. There were a lot of animals there, and lots of different kinds. And if you want this job, you could probably get it - she thought it was available. You could see how animals live when they are objects of experimentation. You could get an inside glance at things. I asked her to write down her thoughts and experiences - so many people I know worry about this sort of thing. And they don't know what to do - they don't know what is really going on. They don't know even whether it might be all right. And this sort of thing gets so confusing. I want to hear from reflectively engaged people working on factory farms, zoos/aquariums, and slaughterhouses. I want to know what they experience, what they thought of things. I want to collect this sort of thing so I don't have to experience everything myself (though I might like to experience a few of these things).
Back to my life (for those of you who are wondering, I just cut a chunk out of this writing because it didn't relate at all to anything right now - it was on factory farms, vegetarianism, and animals - I'll post it once I've had a little bit of time to think)
Right now is my chance to try - it's my short, warm moment. Soon I'll be remembering today. Soon the present will be the past. The good life is a simple metaphor/title that philosophers whip out any time someone is trying to figure out how to live. People have been thinking about it a lot for a long time. But I'd say even more people have been living their lives, even living deliberately/reflectively/optimistically/excitingly for just as long. There's a lot of collective experience and experimentation going on anthropologically here. It doesn't take philosophers to figure out this sort of thing. It takes everyone.
Right now, I think that finding meaning and purpose in one's life is good. Understanding one's values is important. Having a safety net (one of the About a Boy principles) is important. Knowing some of the connections in your life is good. Knowing how you fit in, what role you play, knowing your home (place, habitat, and those you share it with), and knowing some of the main aspects of your life - these are good things.
When I'm 80, when I'm old - I want to have memories of this time - I want there to be good times. Stories for today are stories for tomorrow. The story from today is just this: I was in 8th grade - here is where the things I 'do' started becoming important, started defining and constructing the reality of me. I was playing music, and I was playing soccer. I was caring about academics, and I was beginning my days of insomnia. I remember an early day in the spring, in Pioneer Park. It was one of those warm, melting days of spring in South Dakota, where it's still cold out, but it feels really warm. There was still a lot of snow, a lot of melting snow on the ground. It was the first day of playing competitive soccer with high schoolers. I was wearing my blue Umbro sweatshirt (the one I still often wear) - I had on a warm winter hat, shorts and shinguards. We started playing soccer in the snow and slush. I felt so good - I was intimidated by the older people on the team, but my skills were such that I do everything they could do and more - I was also as tall as I am today (though I weighed much less).
I remember how quiet I was at first, and I think of how I got so much louder (perhaps obnoxious) over my years of playing soccer. And this is indicative of how I live everything. I start out quiet. I listen. I watch. I wait. Everyone thinks I'm shy. And then they live in continual surprise. I like forcing people to rethink me, surprising them, always trying to give them something they don't expect. Until they know me well - then I'm boringly erratic, boringly eccentric. I'm predictably random. But I'm certainly not introverted, and I'm not extraverted either. Those words just flow off me as time goes on.
And I understand quiet people.
And I understand loud people.
And I like them both, and I don't expect that to be some static consistent part of their lives. And I think that I gain confidence as I do things (or at least start pretending somehow, which is the same thing anyway - when everything's pretend, it doesn't matter). And I think that when I'm 80, I'll probably be more confident than I am today. But I also expect that I'll continue finding things that I'm not good at, that I have no confidence in myself when I'm doing them. And I hope that I keep trying at least a few new things every day. The memories of a man in his old age are the deeds of a man in his prime. I am sure I'll be old some day, but I don't know if I'll ever be in my prime.
Free Four by Pink Floyd
The memories of a man in his old age
Are the deeds of a man in his prime.
You shuffle in gloom of the sickroom
And talk to yourself as you die.
Life is a short, warm moment
And death is a long cold rest.
You get your chance to try in the twinkling of an eye:
Eighty years, with luck, or even less.
So all aboard for the American tour,
And maybe you'll make it to the top.
And mind how you go, and I can tell you, 'cause I know
You may find it hard to get off.
You are the angel of death
And I am the dead man's son.
And he was buried like a mole in a fox hole.
And everyone is still in the run.
And who is the master of fox hounds?
And who says the hunt has begun?
And who calls the tune in the courtroom?
And who beats the funeral drum?
The memories of a man in his old age
Are the deeds of a man in his prime.
You shuffle in gloom in the sickroom
And talk to yourself till you die.
I do _____
I have ______
I would like to be _____
I want to do _____
I want to have ______
You?
It might help if you imagine the present as the past. It might help to imagine the future as the present. You're constructing your life right now - awesome isn't it. You're writing your life story. You're exploring your life's path. Choose your metaphor/frame. Okay, so don't fill in those blanks - they're limiting. But ask yourself some questions like that.
And do it again, maybe not tomorrow, but sometime. Make it a ritual.
What are my addictions: not gum, not coffee, not tobacco, not alcohol, not poker, perhaps exercise, perhaps showers, perhaps tea (sometime in the future). I often tell people to choose their addictions wisely.
Today, I was up early for an eye appointment - they didn't tell me much, so I'm going to hope that no news is good news. And I don't really like bad news. Okay, I'm sorry - that might be a pretty bad reference - I apologize. At any rate, I have to go back to get my eyes dilated sometime - the person said I wouldn't be able to read/drive after getting my eyes dilated, and I didn't feel like today was the day for that.
Last night I had an interesting conversation with someone (friend of a friend) who has worked in an animal experimentation laboratory at the University of Minnesota. She took care of the rats. There were a lot of animals there, and lots of different kinds. And if you want this job, you could probably get it - she thought it was available. You could see how animals live when they are objects of experimentation. You could get an inside glance at things. I asked her to write down her thoughts and experiences - so many people I know worry about this sort of thing. And they don't know what to do - they don't know what is really going on. They don't know even whether it might be all right. And this sort of thing gets so confusing. I want to hear from reflectively engaged people working on factory farms, zoos/aquariums, and slaughterhouses. I want to know what they experience, what they thought of things. I want to collect this sort of thing so I don't have to experience everything myself (though I might like to experience a few of these things).
Back to my life (for those of you who are wondering, I just cut a chunk out of this writing because it didn't relate at all to anything right now - it was on factory farms, vegetarianism, and animals - I'll post it once I've had a little bit of time to think)
Right now is my chance to try - it's my short, warm moment. Soon I'll be remembering today. Soon the present will be the past. The good life is a simple metaphor/title that philosophers whip out any time someone is trying to figure out how to live. People have been thinking about it a lot for a long time. But I'd say even more people have been living their lives, even living deliberately/reflectively/optimistically/excitingly for just as long. There's a lot of collective experience and experimentation going on anthropologically here. It doesn't take philosophers to figure out this sort of thing. It takes everyone.
Right now, I think that finding meaning and purpose in one's life is good. Understanding one's values is important. Having a safety net (one of the About a Boy principles) is important. Knowing some of the connections in your life is good. Knowing how you fit in, what role you play, knowing your home (place, habitat, and those you share it with), and knowing some of the main aspects of your life - these are good things.
When I'm 80, when I'm old - I want to have memories of this time - I want there to be good times. Stories for today are stories for tomorrow. The story from today is just this: I was in 8th grade - here is where the things I 'do' started becoming important, started defining and constructing the reality of me. I was playing music, and I was playing soccer. I was caring about academics, and I was beginning my days of insomnia. I remember an early day in the spring, in Pioneer Park. It was one of those warm, melting days of spring in South Dakota, where it's still cold out, but it feels really warm. There was still a lot of snow, a lot of melting snow on the ground. It was the first day of playing competitive soccer with high schoolers. I was wearing my blue Umbro sweatshirt (the one I still often wear) - I had on a warm winter hat, shorts and shinguards. We started playing soccer in the snow and slush. I felt so good - I was intimidated by the older people on the team, but my skills were such that I do everything they could do and more - I was also as tall as I am today (though I weighed much less).
I remember how quiet I was at first, and I think of how I got so much louder (perhaps obnoxious) over my years of playing soccer. And this is indicative of how I live everything. I start out quiet. I listen. I watch. I wait. Everyone thinks I'm shy. And then they live in continual surprise. I like forcing people to rethink me, surprising them, always trying to give them something they don't expect. Until they know me well - then I'm boringly erratic, boringly eccentric. I'm predictably random. But I'm certainly not introverted, and I'm not extraverted either. Those words just flow off me as time goes on.
And I understand quiet people.
And I understand loud people.
And I like them both, and I don't expect that to be some static consistent part of their lives. And I think that I gain confidence as I do things (or at least start pretending somehow, which is the same thing anyway - when everything's pretend, it doesn't matter). And I think that when I'm 80, I'll probably be more confident than I am today. But I also expect that I'll continue finding things that I'm not good at, that I have no confidence in myself when I'm doing them. And I hope that I keep trying at least a few new things every day. The memories of a man in his old age are the deeds of a man in his prime. I am sure I'll be old some day, but I don't know if I'll ever be in my prime.
Free Four by Pink Floyd
The memories of a man in his old age
Are the deeds of a man in his prime.
You shuffle in gloom of the sickroom
And talk to yourself as you die.
Life is a short, warm moment
And death is a long cold rest.
You get your chance to try in the twinkling of an eye:
Eighty years, with luck, or even less.
So all aboard for the American tour,
And maybe you'll make it to the top.
And mind how you go, and I can tell you, 'cause I know
You may find it hard to get off.
You are the angel of death
And I am the dead man's son.
And he was buried like a mole in a fox hole.
And everyone is still in the run.
And who is the master of fox hounds?
And who says the hunt has begun?
And who calls the tune in the courtroom?
And who beats the funeral drum?
The memories of a man in his old age
Are the deeds of a man in his prime.
You shuffle in gloom in the sickroom
And talk to yourself till you die.
posted by Brett Werner at
9:47 PM
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