Places to go, People to see...

Something’s just occurred to me.

When I left behind my old life in April of 2007, I went on a three-month binge vacation around Europe. At the time, it seemed like a great way to “acculturate” myself to my new life, and provide a nice big exclamation-point, at the end of the old one.

I mapped out a week-to-week clockwise train tour through as many major cities in northern and central Europe as I could fit into nearly 11 weeks. That included: London, Amsterdam, Berlin, Vienna, Prague, Florence, Paris, Brussels, and then London again. I saw train stations, hotels, restaurants, cafes, concert halls, museums, parks, theaters, woods, even observatories and zoos. I went to jazz festivals, plays, concerts-in-the-park, comedy shows, poetry readings, and in Vienna I even went and watched television outdoors on a GI-NORMOUS projection-screen TV, parked in front of the Vienna city hall.

But, there are only really two things that I can say that I enjoyed unequivocally: London, and Berlin.

Tonight, I realized why: I enjoy people, not places.

In particular, I really enjoy spending time with people I care about. People who, at the very least, share a majority of my values. In London, I met with a good friend of mine, and we spent our time together talking philosophy and learning about each other. I can describe many details even now, about the places I went to in London with my friend, including the music that was playing in the church during one of our picnic-in-the-churchyard philosophy gab sessions.

In Berlin, I spent an evening sitting in a tiny, out-of-the-way theater with the kooky folks from “Bright Blue Gorilla” independent films, watching their premier. I was a complete outsider, but felt like I was with friends the whole time. The theater reminded me of an old bank building in Antioch, Illinois, that had been converted into a restaurant.

Outside of those examples where I was around people with whom I was truly engaged, my memory of the places I’ve been is completely blurred now. So, I think places (and things, to an extent) as such, are far less interesting to me, than the people who populate them - and it takes those people to make my memory of the places both significant and enjoyable. Places are mere static representations of a single slice of time in the life of the people inhabiting them. It is the dynamics of the interrelations between individuals that makes the world fascinating and full of excitement for me, not the walls within which those things happen.

Shakespeare said, ‘all the world’s a stage’. But what makes the stage interesting, is the players on it, not the sets.

In a little while (about a day from now), I'll be in Cancun, Mexico for the holidays. We'll see if my experience supports the theory. I'll be visiting my friend from London there, once again.

I'm predicting my memory of that place will be quite clear.

Dealing With My Sexuality...

What would it take to cause a child to completely repress an essential aspect of his own developing personality, and to utterly reject a core part of his forming identity? What would cause a man to reject his own passions and desires so completely, as to not even notice them anymore?

Human beings are remarkably resilient creatures. They will often pursue their own needs and desires in even the most dire of circumstances. Be it absolute necessities such as shelter, food, and clothing, or secondary necessities such as companionship and sex, the species has been known to go to great lengths to satisfy itself.

I believe this impulse to satisfy material desires (a.k.a. self-interest) is second only to the impulse to satisfy emotional needs. The greatest of which, is to justify the belief that the satisfaction of material desires is right and good (a.k.a. self-justification). Human beings will not pursue that which they believe to be evil. Even serial killers have self-justifications.

The Genesis of Self-Punishment

When I was a boy, I lived in a house that was similar in experience to an all-boys Catholic school, or a military academy. There was nowhere to hide. Your room was THEIR room. Your stuff was THEIR stuff. If they had the slightest suspicion of anything, your stuff would get tossed - often after you left the house to go to school. Daily, my father demanded firm hospital corners... and mother demanded absolute chastity.

All throughout my life as a child, I had learned to fear various aspects of myself - to hide and repress elements of my personality, in order to prevent attack and perhaps even preserve my life (or, at least that’s how I’d have perceived it then). Don’t laugh at anything, unless dad laughs first. Don’t ask a question, unless you’re invited to. Don’t make your mother angry...

As I reached the age of sexual maturity, I learned to apply this lesson of terror of myself once again - with an intense ferocity.

When I was 14, I was caught masturbating in my bedroom at least 3 times, by my mother. I was beaten by my father for stealing the tawdry covers off my mother’s romance novels, and finally, in one of those bedroom tossing episodes, my mother discovered a secret journal I was keeping, which had nothing in it but pencil sketches of nude women in various suggestive poses. The response to that from my father, in a nutshell, was thus:

“If you keep it up, I’ll have no choice but to have you committed”.

In my family, this was the ultimate threat. Jail and the all-boys “reform” school was a sort of cliche threat that none of us took seriously. Beatings had been losing their effectiveness as I’d gotten too big to suffer the same as I did when I was a small boy. And shouting and screaming just made everyone tired. But to threaten committal - that was like being threatened with the ninth circle of hell.

Why? Well, my maternal grandmother had been committed for a time. My paternal grandmother had been committed permanently when my father was 9. And my own mother had been temporarily committed twice between my birth and the day of that threat. Mental illness - SERIOUS mental illness - is a plague in my family. Corruption is more the bailiwick of the men. But pure, uncut, hell-raising, bat-shit insanity belongs entirely to the women.

So, that threat from my father was a sort of impossible situation for me. Either I reject myself by refusing to heed my father and accepting the equivalent of a mental death sentence, or I reject myself by imposing a regimen of self-denial the likes of which would be equivalent to torture, if it were imposed externally. To accept the former, was to BECOME my mother, so I chose the latter.

I was not then - and never really have been - a religious soul. But in order to accept what I was doing to myself, I had to rationalize it in some way. I had to believe it was good. In these times, it’s not hard to find those rationalizations - Aids, abortion, single-parent poverty, and the self-destructive over-indulgence of teenage rebellion was all around me. So, I turned my chastity into a kind of secular virtue. It was good for me to hate my sexuality, because it meant certain death. Thus began the life of the Godless Monk.

The Bene Gesserit Man

The irony in this, of course, was that I was precisely becoming my mother, in doing so.

If any of you have ever seen the original movie “Dune” (the one with Sting and the guy from Twin Peaks), there’s a scene in that movie that best describes it in metaphorical terms, I think. There is a point in the story where Paul is required to stick his hand into a certain box, and his mother (who ironically happens to be a mind-controlling witch) imposes an image on his mind of the hand burning inside the box. Paul has to overcome the natural instinct to recoil, and to accept that the burning flesh he smells is only an illusion. In essence, to both “master” his mother, and simultaneously, to become her in some essential way.

Between the ages of 15 and 20, I would consciously engage in mental and physical “exercises” designed to completely repress and control both my physical attraction to women, and my desire to satisfy myself sexually. I did things to myself that I knew would result in the association of an erection with physical pain. Pinching myself, punching myself, picturing horrific images when urges arose, raging at myself, repeating mantra lines from various books I’d read, rubbing myself raw without orgasm, and other things. By age 20, I was only experiencing erection about once or twice a month, and I was only masturbating about once every 3 months or so (just to confirm the plumbing was still functional, although, I could not explain why I cared whether or not it did, at the time).

And I had successfully disassociated myself from my own sexual preferences. I could identify what “sexually attractive” was, as an anthropological observation, without consciously feeling any desire whatsoever for the individual in question. Though the unconscious desire was always still there, it could not manifest itself physically. Which means, it came out in other ways, of course.

And that’s pretty much the way I’ve lived - or rather, survived - for the last 19 or 20 years - in a Kal El fortress of icy solitude, that had a burning furnace of rage, deep at its center.

Learning To Respect Sexuality

I’ve been thinking lately, that while sex and sexuality isn’t the definition of a romantic relationship, it’s certainly an irreplaceable core component of it. If it’s not, then how can you distinguish between normal friendships and romantic friendships? Why would we even have that word in our vocabulary? Friends would simply be friends.

It’s really no wonder, given this history, why my inner voices are so angry at me. Not because I’d done what I needed to do, to survive at home - but because I’d adopted it as ME. Rather than a temporary expedient, I’d taken that necessity on as though it were my true identity. But what human being has an identity not only devoid of sexual passion and desire, but utterly set against it? That would be like arguing that digestion was evil.

There is value in protecting oneself; in guarding that which is most precious about who I am; in preserving my capacity for virtue, and for love. But there is quite a difference between preservation and imprisonment. I did not see my manhood as though it were a savings account, to be accumulated and protected for the time when an adequate opportunity arose to put the savings to good use. Instead, I saw it as a dangerous beast, to be locked in a dark dungeon, and fed scraps of flesh just enough to keep it alive.

The result is predictable. The lion is emaciated, weak, and tired. He is grateful for his freedom at last, but he is a long way from resembling the the muscle flexing youth that was first imprisoned - and at my age, there’s only a slim possibility he ever will. But as futile as it may appear at the moment, I’ve decided to set myself the task of at least trying to nurse him back to full health. If nothing else, we’ll both be happier in the end.

Feeding The Lion

In an effort to become more aware of myself in the moment; to pay more attention to my own personal needs; and to recondition myself to a life of relaxed enjoyment, rather than tension and self-denial; I have undertaken a meditation project.

Originally, I only had one guided meditation I was working with. It’s an adaptation of a John Bradshaw meditation, read by Stefan Molyneux. That has been quite productive and helpful for me. I’m still not quite sure I understand what it is I’m experiencing when I “go under” in those meditations, but I’m learning to be patient and gentle, and to just let whatever happens, happen.

But recently, prompted by a suggestion from my therapist for dealing with issues around physical intimacy and sexuality, and on the recommendation of a friend, I added a second guided meditation to the menu. The first half of the meditation is the standard relaxation guidance (similar to the Bradshaw meditation), starting with breathing and then flexing and relaxing various muscle groups beginning with the feet, and proceeding upward to the face. The second half, is an erotic visualization exercise.

The inner-child meditation, though overwhelming at first, has been relatively easy compared to this second erotic meditation. From the start, I have felt nothing but resistance to it. The most striking difference, is the fact that I cannot even relax enough to close my eyes. Its as if the muscles in my eyelids work in reverse, when I’m doing this meditation. I have to force a squint to get them to shut, and as soon as I do, I’m not relaxing anymore.

It’s interesting to note, that the first time I tried this meditation, I had no idea what to expect, and the relaxation guidance worked so well, that I actually dozed off during the end of that section for almost two minutes. When I “came to”, the visualization section was already well underway, and it had been having a physical effect on me, without me even realizing it. I panicked when that happened, and completely lost focus.

Since then, the relaxation section of the meditation is always loaded with anticipatory fear and anxiety - its as if I am in a speeding car with no breaks, and I can see the wall coming. How could one NOT be tense at that?

I think the fundamental problem is that deep down, I am EVEN NOW still applying an inverted pyramid of virtue to myself, and the world. At least in this area, I am still identifying with my mother’s view of what a "good boy" does.

Hope For the Future...

While I’m not sure there is an “expiration date” on this pursuit, I am beginning to realize that the process of overturning that regime is much more difficult and painful than I had first estimated. In effect, I am asking my mind and body to reset itself to 1979 and start again from inside a pit of 29 years of self-punishment and isolation.

Some would say it’s pointless to continue at this late stage of the game, but I believe the prospects for success is good. The strength that kept the lion caged for so long, is the very same strength that will nurse him back to health, and lead him out of the pit.

The thing is, none of this would have been possible, I don’t think, if it hadn’t been for the intervention of one Stefan Molyneux. It all goes back to the identification of virtue, and the definition of love. Freedomain Radio - the product of his own life-long pursuit of truth and happiness, gave me the chance to see my own corruption. To realize that my desire to “be good” had been so twisted and contorted that I was living, at best, a contradiction in terms, if not a contradiction of true virtue itself.

He defines “love” as an involuntary response to virtue (in the same way that shivers are an involuntary response to cold air, or flinching is an involuntary response to loud sudden noises). I realized today, that in fact, until I came to Freedomain Radio, I’d never actually ever felt that involuntary response. Not even toward my own parents. This was why, I think, I was able to tolerate the withdrawal and isolation for so long.

But, it was Stef and Freedomain Radio that made it possible for me to question the underlying assumptions woven into the fabric of my personality from 30 years ago - assumptions like, there is no love or virtue to be found in the world. Why? Because when I found FDR, I did feel that involuntary response - at least, to some degree. And, If I could feel it once, most certainly, it was possible to feel it again. And, if I could feel it to that degree, who’s to say what the upward limit on that feeling was at all? I had to find out. I have to find out.

And now, is as good a time, as any....

The Man That Is

The man that might have been,
Howls in the distant night,
from the obsidian mists of the past -
and the only ears that can hear him,
listen to the here and now.

They are pinned on the man that yet may be,
and they strain to listen.

The voice is faint, like a hint of a scent,
lingering in the inky fog,
looking for a resting place in the bedrock
where perception festers into action
and the earth turns again.

I know these two specters, these demons of time.
They haunt me in both directions.
They can offer me no rest,
only motion.

From that place that was,
to the place that will be,
marches
the man that is.

A Little Mac Tinkering...

From time to time, I love to pull the hood back on the stuff around my house, and get my hands dirty in the guts of things. Having spent so many years in I.T., this compulsion is most often directed toward my home computer - an iMac 7, with OS X Leopard.

Tonight, I decided to end a point of frustration I had with Safari. As a browser, I really like it. It's fast, clean, and has a really small storage footprint. But there are little "amenities" I miss from Firefox, that I wish were present in Safari. One of those, is the ability to open multiple tabs on browser launch (known as "multiple home tabs" in Firefox).

Here's an Automator / AppleScript workflow I wrote, that accomplishes this goal:

---

on

run

{

input

,

parameters

}

set

URLFile

to

"Internal:Users:gmgauthi:Documents:URLS.txt"

open for access

alias

URLFile

set

URLFileContents

to

read

alias

URLFile

using delimiter

{";"}

close access

alias

URLFile

set

URLCount

to

count

URLFileContents

set

aCounter

to

0

repeat

URLCount

times

set

aCounter

to

aCounter

+

1

tell

application

"Safari"

my

new_Tab

()

set

aURL

to

item

aCounter

of

URLFileContents

set

URL

of

document

1

to

aURL

end

tell

end

repeat

tell

front

window

of

application

"Safari"

to

set

current tab

to

tab

1

return

input

end

run

on

new_Tab

()

tell

application

"Safari"

to

activate

tell

application

"System Events"

tell

process

"Safari"

click

menu item

"New Tab"

of

menu

"File"

of

menu bar

1

end

tell

end

tell

end

new_Tab

---

As you can see, the script reads a "URLS.txt" file, for a list of URLS to open. If you only want one tab opened, you only need to include one URL. Make sure you end each line with a semicolon. If you prefer, you can substitute the hard-coded file alias in the script above, with a user prompt, like so:



But I find it annoying to have to open a file every time I want to open the browser. Perhaps what I'll do, in time, is have the script search for the file, and if it doesn't find it, then prompt the user. Or, alternatively, I could have the script default to Safari's default home page, if the URLS.txt is not found. But, that will have to wait for another time.

Title the script something like "Safari_With_Tabs.workflow". Be sure to terminate it with the extension "workflow". To make this script executable from your desktop, right-click on it, choose "get info", and change the "Open With" to "Automator Runner".

Enjoy!

Why I Love Freedomain Radio

All the media attention directed at Freedomain Radio recently, has managed to refuel the nearly-empty pot-stove oven of hate over yonder, with the fresh chord-wood of a new set of corrupt minds previously drifting aimlessly in cyberspace. But those few sorry folks who are hell-bent on wailing and gnashing their teeth at Freedomain, are really only helping to prove that Stef has created something of terrifying and spectacular beauty, in my opinion.

And, there really is a lot to love about FDR. Stef has done an awe-inspiring amount of work to provide all sorts of original work and live resources to people passionate about ideas and their practical effect on one's own personal, individual life. I, for one, deeply appreciate it.

In modern times, I know of only two other attempts at something similar: Mortimer Adler and Ayn Rand. While Adler's work is not wholly original, I find his Great Books to be one of the best modern surveys of philosophical thought throughout history, and his compendium of "Great Ideas" will surely light an intellectual fire in anyone passionate about them. Rand's work, of course, is wholly original, and the passion there is utterly unmistakable. As contributions to modern thought go, one could do MUCH worse than Atlas Shrugged. In my view, these two have one very important motivation in common: A burning passion to spread the pure joy of the rational life beyond the pristine walls of the "studied", and out into the world as a whole. For this reason (among other minor ones), Stef really ought to be counted among them, categorically.

Yet, as fantastic as it is, the quantity and availability of Freedomain content and resources is only a secondary contributor to my love affair with Freedomain Radio, and my admiration of the man who put it all together in the first place.

What has kept me returning to FDR consistently for the past three years, is it’s quality -- more specifically, it’s virtue. As I said in a recent video, I love it. I can't get enough of it. If it were a solid, I'd fill my pack with it, and carry it everywhere. If it were a liquid, I would bath in it all day long. If it were a gas, it would most assuredly be an essential compound in breathable air. Passion is important, for sure. Intellect is useful, undoubtedly. But it is virtue that is truly admirable -- and in a world where virtue is forced to hide itself in a cloak of vice or indifference, Stefan and Freedomain Radio are a welcome breath of uninhibited fresh air.

The Virtues of Freedomain

There are six basic behavioral attributes that I try hard to nurture in my own life, and that I greatly admire when I see them exhibited in others. The list was originally 4 virtues, but recently, I’ve begun to expand it. They are: Honesty, Curiosity, Empathy, Generosity, Humility, and Courage.

Honesty

Stef calls it “the first virtue”. I see it as the one thing without which none of the other virtues would even be possible. Honesty is the basic capacity to recognize, acknowledge, and admit to one’s own experience of reality to oneself first, and then to others. This virtue is what makes the other virtues possible, because this virtue is what makes the choice to act or not to act possible. Without it, we are stimulus-response machines, only. Even reason is reduced to nothing more than a stimulus-response rationalization tool, in the absence of honesty.

To participate at Freedomain, is to be expected to employ honesty with yourself and others, in all things. Nobody’s perfect, of course, but that’s the goal. I’ve had my own dishonesty challenged by Stef and others on several occasions, and am a better person for it. It’s great to know that there are people around me now, who are not afraid to point out my own dishonesty, but not interested in using that knowledge to hurt me.

Curiosity

This virtue is a close companion to honesty, I think. It’s the fuel that keeps the honesty engine warm. Without curiosity, there’d be no progress, either personally, or socially. As with honesty, curiosity also begins with the self. Admitting my experience is only half the battle. The other half, is asking myself why I feel that way, and how I know. Curiosity is the healthy skeptic (not the radical). If honesty is logic, then curiosity is empiricism.

Curiosity is something I see displays of on Freedomain, on a daily basis, from everyone who participates in the discussion. Just listen to any listener conversation podcast, or Sunday call-in, and you’ll be treated to a continuous fountain of curiosity from Stef. As for myself, this was something I’ve always prided myself on, but again, I can remember as far back as podcast 192, having that “story” of myself challenged profoundly.

Empathy

Above all, empathy is to me, the most important and perhaps the most powerful of the virtues employed and displayed at Freedomain. Without empathy, we’d all just be - as Stef likes to put it - Just a bunch of television sets pointed at each other. Empathy is what gives us the capacity to experience each other - and to understand that experience as other-originated. Without it, we could not care for each other, or for ourselves for that matter.

I think Stef’s capacity for empathy is perhaps his strongest trait (and is likely what makes him such an astute observer of psychology). For all the fantastic ideas to come out of Freedomain Radio, I think it’s greatest contribution to the freedom movement has been to reinvigorate the sense of caring and community that modern iterations of the movement have lacked almost entirely. That would not have been possible if it were not for the immense well of empathy in Stef, and his capacity to re-awaken that capacity in those of us participating in the conversation.

Generosity

I have yet to meet any one person or group of people more generous than those at FDR. The willingness to share in this community, materially and emotionally, is truly a rare spectacle. But what is most admirable, is that the generosity is entirely consistent with justice. Nobody here is giving because they are obligated to, and few out of vanity or lack of self-esteem. It is done for the sheer joy of the act itself.

Indeed, the entire endeavor of Freedomain could be said to be a giant act of generosity. Stef has produced and passed on to the community, a lifetime’s worth of material in just 3 years, and sustains himself entirely on the gratitude he receives in return for that. You couldn’t ask for a more prominent collective display of generosity than that.

Humility

This is one of those virtues that seems turned on it’s head. Much like courage. People think humility is social submissiveness. I would argue that it is a willingness to submit oneself to the truth. It is the effect of integrity. True humility is pride and confidence - in oneself, and one’s capacity to discover the truth rationally. Humility is the effect of honesty and empathy, I think. Because, they chasten the impulse to judge - both yourself, and others. Humility is the source of patience.

Despite howlings to the contrary, Stef exhibits a great deal of humility day-to-day at Freedomain. Always careful to ask questions, firmly wedded to principle, and always ready to hear legitimate criticism - in spite of the din of antagonistic rhetoric that flows in his direction every day. It seems to me, any man capable of that, and maintaining his passion and enthusiasm for this work for so long, must be capable of an enormous amount of humility.

Courage

People confuse courage with aggression, I think. They believe that running over a hill with a machine gun in your hands is an act of courage. Nothing could be further from the truth. I have been thinking of renaming this to “vulnerability”, because that is truly what I am speaking of. Courage is the capacity - and the willingness - to expose yourself to others; to grant people access to your true self; to be willing to risk getting hurt, for the sake of the truth, and the sake of others. Courage is the capacity and the willingness to act on all the other virtues, consistently.

Fredomain Radio is a product of pure courage. The kind of courage I’ve seen from Stef, and from many participants in this conversation, is something I don’t think I’ll ever see again. Courage, as vulnerability, is something I am still growing into. The kind of vulnerability I see in Stef and some others here, is truly something to be admired and aspired to.

The Future of the World

If we were to take the bait, and consider Freedomain Radio as if it were a possible model for a future society, it seems to me we could do a whole lot worse. Any society that exhibited some combination of these six virtues with any consistency would be a society that I’d be more than happy to live in.

That consistency, if FDR is successful, is possible right now, in the form of UPB and RTR. I can report without a doubt, those tools have most assuredly increased my own capacity for, ability to recognize, and love of virtue as a whole, and these six virtues in particular. I know it’s worked for many others, as well.

This is really the beauty of the FDR methodology - all it requires to change the world forever, is to take some action in your own life. I realize that this is truly easier said than done, but if the examples we’ve seen at Freedomain Radio are any kind of proof, then I do believe the world of the future will indeed be something magnificent to behold.

What Stef has been doing at FDR, reminds me a lot of an old secular parable that’s a favorite of mine. I’ll share it here, and you’ll see what I mean:

A man was walking along the beach one morning. During the night the tide had stranded thousands of starfish on the beach. As the waves came crashing in he noticed a little girl in the distance. She was picking up the helpless starfish one at time and putting them back into the ocean. Curious, he approached her, and watched several times as she repeatedly made the effort to accomplish the seemingly impossible task of saving them. Finally, he asked "little girl you cannot possibly save them all so why waste your time?". Without hesitation she picked up another starfish, held it up to the man, and said "tell that to this little starfish". As he thought for a moment the little girl smiled, ran to the ocean and placed the starfish in the water. The man then reached down and picked up two starfish, took them to the safety of the water and continued on his walk.

I really like this iteration of the story, because the passerby takes up the task as well. Even if he does it just once, he’s made himself better, and the world a better place, all because of that little girl.

If all of us could inspire just one other person in our lives to take up this task, just imagine how many starfish we’d rescue...

What Am I Good At?

I've been thinking about an old pattern of mine.

I get all cranked up and write something I think is really good, then I post it, then people make great comments about it, and then I hate it. In other words, the quickest way to shut me up, is to tell me you love my writing. I remember that was a pattern for me in the creative writing classes I took years ago. Without fail, an instructor would give me some comment like, "You just need to keep doing what you're doing!", and I would promptly stop doing that.

I don't think this really has anything to do with any secret desire to be a writer, anymore. However, I do see this pattern as important to me in the broader sense: I hate being praised. Or, rather, I'm wracked with anxiety, guilt, and self-doubt, when I get positive feedback. More accurately, up until recently, I've let myself be ruled by that anxiety, guilt, and self-doubt.

Recently, I finished the first unit in my mediation course, and besides giving me a top mark on the unit's analysis paper assignment, the instructor included the comment, "It's the best Unit 1 Analysis I've gotten yet". Well, in months or years past, my habit would have been to roll my eyes and ask myself "what does he REALLY mean?" But I didn't do that this time.

This time, I spent a week negotiating with my inner critic first. I wrote the paper entirely over the course of about 3 days. Then, I sat on it for a week. In the course of that week, my mood shifted from flush with satisfaction to wracked with self-doubt and back to tentative acceptance. I let my inner critic rage for days about this paper, but I refused to let him tell me what to do. He wanted me to proofread it continuously. Then, he wanted me to reorganize it. Then, he wanted me to read more literature on the subject so that I could include more references, and finally, he demanded that I rewrite the whole thing. At each stop along this journey, I would simply ask him two questions: (1) Why is this not good enough? (2) Why is "good enough" bad?

On the proofreading, he was mostly right. But on all the other stuff, he was unable to explain himself. So, at the end of a week, with a few minor edits in place, I closed my eyes, and pushed the "send" button.

And I got an A. Not just an A, but "the best Unit 1 Analysis yet".

And afterward? I don't feel any compulsion to question the instructor's judgment. Not a lick. The critic is back there of course, complaining away, sneering, crossing his arms, and demanding to know how this was possible, but he doesn't run the show anymore. He gets to have his say, but in the end, he doesn't get to dictate the terms anymore. The job of the decision-making belongs to someone else now. That someone else is the boy I left behind 30 years ago. He's waited patiently, quietly, for decades. For me to quiet down and ask for his help. And he offered it without reserve, without recrimination, without any expectation, as soon as I was genuine enough to accept it.

My parents have had a spokesman in me for long enough.

It's time now for the boy to have a champion of his own.

I think I can be that champion.

I hope he agrees.

Putting My Money Where My Mouth Is...

One of the strongest recurring impulses in my life, has been the drive toward consistence between my actions and my expressed expressed values and perceived virtues. Among that list of values, can be found three fundamentals: the principle of non-violence, the principle of self-direction, and by extension, the principle of spontaneous order. These principles are valuable to me, because I believe they are both an expression of, and a support mechanism for, the virtues I proclaim to both love and to possess: integrity, curiosity, empathy, and courage.

My involvement in Freedomain Radio has been of enormous and nearly incalculable value to me, in pursuit of these aspects of myself. Indeed, when I was introduced to Stefan's work nearly 3 years ago, I was, at best, only partly conscious of the fact that I even held these stated values, or admired these stated virtues. As part of my growth during this period of my life, I've always intuitively and instinctively known that my life as a technician was drawing to a close. I know my value to the world is very limited there, in general, and I also know I am an embarrassingly bad liar. How can you convince others, when you can't even convince yourself?

For a time, I believed this failure of confidence was born of a deficiency of self-esteem and self-image. Over time, however, I've come to realize that this answer was only partly true. It is true that I've suffered from self-worth issues over the last 20 years, and it's also true that, had I a stronger ego during that time period, I might indeed have been far more successful as a computer specialist, than I already was (which was, objectively speaking, not stellar but well above average).

But as I said, that's only half the story. The other half, has been a growing realization that my happiness - my value to the world - lies in the expression of these values and virtues to the world, in some woefully unclear way... and that I.T. was not the way... and that, if I remained in that place and refused to take up the challenge of my own courage and integrity, I would die without ever really realizing this freshly understood potential in me. The example Stefan has set at Freedomain Radio has felt to me, at times, like a prison yard spotlight, singling me out and demanding to know why I was trying to hide from my 'duty' to the truth. Only at times, though. Lately, his example has felt much more like a lighthouse beacon, keeping me on course when the ship has seemed all but lost to the storm.

For over a year, that beacon was all I had to rely on, since I was so busy refusing to listen to myself; so adamantly struggling against the voice inside me, trying to tell me we could find our own way, if I would only just relax for a moment. And, in that time, I convulsed in the anxiety of perceived expectations, wallowed in the self-indulgent despair of perceived failures, and shook my fist at the world, for the fate it had handed me. I was certain I would never find an answer to the question, "What am I supposed to do with my life? Why won't someone just tell me?"

But of course, I've always had the answer - as I've already admitted, in fact. It's always been in there waiting for me, in the womb at the center of my being where those values and virtues live. I was just unable to see it, because I was so busy trying to "will" an answer. So busy not listening to the wisdom of the child born to the world with those values and virtues lying exposed and naked to the world. Not listening, because I was afraid of him. Afraid of his nakedness. Afraid of his vulnerability. Or, rather, the ego that I call "I" - the transparent man that formed like a heavy wax sarcophagus around that child - feared. My shell is constructed almost entirely of terror. Terror of externalities, sure. But mostly, terror of the naked child within. Terror that his nakedness would not just shame us, but destroy us.

"I" could not find a purpose for life, after starting this latest journey into the self, because "I" had long since lost his only function: to hide. Hide from the world, hide from others, hide from the naked child within. "I" had become a swollen ancestral appendage, blocking access to me. Still, with time, and effort, I have managed to egg-tooth my way through enough of the layers of wax to be able to see him again. To see my true self. To feel him. To connect with him. To listen to him.

What did he say to me?

The same thing he's been saying to me for decades: Terror, shame, and suspicion are no way to order a world, and certainly, no way to raise a child (in particular, me). But I didn't understand what it meant years ago. I chased blindly after politics and abstract moral philosophy for years, in pursuit of that nagging question. I was looking in all the wrong places, of course. Looking in those places, because "I" was refusing to listen to the wisdom of the child.

And as soon as "I" had relaxed enough to listen to that child, the answer rang out in my head like the bells of St. Patrick's cathedral.

I was sitting at my desk reading some random article, when a friend of mine passed a URL over IM to me. He's been taking a course in business law, and the chapter they were working through at the time, focused on various alternatives to civil and criminal law. In essence, an overview of the problems of the public legal system, and some potential solutions to it. One of those solutions: Private practice mediation, and dispute resolution services.

Dispute Resolution Organizations. A central theoretical example used in support of the philosophy of Freedomain Radio, or what I had thought was only a theory, was actually working. In practice. Right now. Today. And people were earning a living doing it.

And again, my head filled with the chanting howls of a fanatical football crowd: "WE - CAN - DO - THIS!" It scared the crap out of me.

But it was so obvious. If conflict is the central problem of all human relationships, and I loved to solve problems and help people in the process, then why was I not doing something to expand our understanding, and to potentially solve, THAT problem? I mean, I know I am a problem-solver. I know my mind is highly attuned to analytical thinking, and I also know that I have a fairly deep, though undisciplined, well of creativity in me (even if, a bit linear). Combined with the psychological insight and the confidence born of self-development that I've gained working with Stef, what did I have to lose by applying myself to THIS particular task?

There are no coincidences. I'd "coincidentally" just spent the preceding 18 months shedding everything. Everything. Even most of my old identity. Really. I had nothing to lose. Absolutely nothing. Yet, I still allowed ambivalence to shadow the enthusiasm that had sprung out of me entirely spontaneously. Having nothing to lose is an easy way to avoid the risk of doing something that could potentially cost you everything. Skepticism and cynicism. My old companions. "I" couldn't just have that enthusiasm, and let that be enough. "I" demanded justifications, which of course, are not to be - can NEVER be - found. A self-fulfilling defeatism.

Then ego boy was reminded to "ask the kid". And so he did. A dozen times over the course of a week, until the boy was positively fuming. And "I" finally capitulated. He did not want to lose everything he'd gained in his relationship with the boy. He knows they need each other. And he promised to commit to the enthusiasm. In a substantive way.

So, I signed on to a private mediation course. I'm learning the trade. The practice, of employing techniques, tactics, and strategies for mediating personal and professional disputes. Learning it for myself, so that I can practice what I preach. Learning it for others, so that I can help teach the value and the beauty of finding peaceful solutions to apparently irreconcilable differences. Learning it for the future, so that I can help, in my own minute and incremental way, move this multi-generational project of freedom forward by a step or two before I die.

And finally, learning it, because I'm having fun learning it.

Because I feel passionate about it.

Passion.

I haven't felt that, in a long, long time.

And it feels great.

The New Beginning...

This is actually the end result of 2 years of study and introspection itself, so in a way, it is the end, rather than the beginning. But in a way, it is also the beginning. The beginning of my new life, and my new hope for the future.

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Mission Statement: The purpose - the greatest desire - of my life, is to employ the truth, as discovered through philosophy, to pursue my own happiness to the fullest extent possible, and in the process, to make the world a better place than it was when I entered it.

Applied Objective: My objective is to demonstrate, through word and deed in my own life, the value of personal peace and freedom to promoting happiness and building constructive pleasurable relationships, amongst all people.

Goals: The following are a list of mid- and long-term goals, I hope to accomplish in pursuit of my mission and objective:

• Personal: Establish a daily and weekly routine that encourages a regimen of self-care. Specifically, continue to build on every-day habits such as exercise, meditation, socializing, and study, to increase the potential for sharing values with those around me.
• Romantic: Find someone with whom I can make my dating profile motto a reality: “The greatest pleasure in life, is the shared joy in living itself.” What this means in practical terms: A long-term love relationship, with a woman who will challenge but not threaten, expect but not demand, and question but not criticize. Someone with a deep curiosity about herself, and the world.
• Social: Improve and expand friendships. Through continued self-exploration, study and improved socialization, I increase the likelihood for sharing value, and bringing joy to those I associate with in a casual context. In doing so, I greatly improve the chances of succeeding at the the personal and romantic goals, and increase the potential for new value in the professional goal as well.
• Professional: Establish a career more in line with my stated mission and objective. Firstly: through the promotion and practice of extra-legal dispute resolution, in the form of private practice mediation, I will earn a living while promoting peace and freedom in general and my own happiness specifically. Secondly: through continued support and promotion of Freedomain Radio, I will continue to build on my network of friendships, and nurture simultaneous opportunities for enhancing my own mediation practice, and the philosophical and psychological work going on at Freedomain Radio.

My Daily To-Do List: The following list is a collection of things I try to accomplish every single day, without exception. Sometimes I’m more successful than others, but nobody’s perfect ;) :
Read WANTS List Morning 10 mins (1hr+ p/week)
Meditate Morning 30 mins (3.5 hrs p/week)
Physical Exercise Anytime 30 mins (3.5 hrs p/week)
Study Evening 1 hrs (7 hrs p/week)
FDR Evening 2 hrs (14 hrs p/week)
Casual Reading Weekend 3 hrs (3 hrs p/week)
Outdoor Activity Weekend 3 hrs (3 hrs p/week)
Watch Movie Weekend 2 hrs (2 hrs p/week)

I’m posting this here, now, because I want to put this in a public place. But not just any public space. Someplace where it will matter to my true self. Some place that demonstrates my commitment to it - demonstrates it to myself, by declaring it to those I care most about. A sort of “marriage ceremony” to my own goals, I guess.

Greg.