Sunday, March 13, 2016

What We're Failing to See in Trump: Ourselves

Louis C.K., in his recent letter undressing Donald Trump, said a few things that I think struck at the heart of the whole Trump debacle: “Trump is a messed up guy with a hole in his heart that he tries to fill with money and attention. He can never ever have enough of either and he’ll never stop trying… He’s a sad man.”

Or, as my brother put it today--"That guy must not have a lot of love for himself if he’s putting out so much hate onto other people.”

Sure, Trump irks me.  But it’s more that I think he would make a disastrous president, not that I hate his guts as a human being.  

When people are incredibly violent, it’s mostly because they have experienced an incredible amount of violence in their life, either at the hands of others, or internally, inflicting violence upon themselves.  

If it’s not coming from others, we inflict violence upon ourselves when we’re out of touch with our needs.  

While we all possess the same basic physical (food, shelter, water) and emotional (respect, identity, love) needs, our specific combination of needs is unique for each of us.  Introverts need more time alone than extroverts.  Some people need more information (scientists) and some people need to be more creative (artists).  Some people need to spend more time outside, some people need to feel more physical touch than others.  Those are all things we need on some level, but the intensity of the need ranges depending upon your unique makeup as a human being.  

But if you’re unaware of what your personal needs are--and, goddamnit, I wish they taught this type of personal development in school--and spend your life engaging things and people that don’t get your needs met, then you are inflicting violence upon yourself.  This might sound trite, but compiled over years and years, this can do quite a bit of damage. And more often than not, we--as wonderfully flawed and messy creatures--project that violence outward onto others.  

Back to this Trump character.   

Now, taking a compassionate stance towards Trump might seem unrealistically or unreasonably enlightened, or somehow impossible.  Or as an excuse to condone what he says, and how he is saying it.  That’s not what I’m saying at all.  Rather, that it’s simply a bit easier to understand why someone would say such things when you consider that they have the same needs that you have (albeit a specific combination), and maybe those needs aren’t being met.  

I think Americans are scared to see that their country could be coming to this.  More importantly, many Americans are scared (or proud) to admit that they’ve got a little Trump in them.   

Trump scares a lot of people because they don’t want to believe that this could possibly be part of reality--their reality.  More specifically, they don’t want to believe that they themselves could ever be like Trump.  That they could think thoughts like that, let alone speak them aloud.  

But honestly, we’re all pretty messed up.  We all have habits and patterns and belief systems most of which we’ve developed before ever employing a fully functioning rational thought process.  No wonder we make so many mistakes.  No wonder we have mood swings and have phobias.  No wonder we’re so, SO messy, at times.  And that’s the crazy and infuriating and beautiful part about being human.  

We all have irrational fears and desires.  We all have terrible, fucked up thoughts at some points in our lives.  Some of us act on them, some don’t.  

Trump happens to not only think a disproportionate amount of those type of thoughts that you don’t want to admit you might have thought, or have the potential to think, but also acts on them.  Regularly.  Flaunts it, really.  

The question is--what does reflecting back the same type of hate that he puts out do for us?  What does it do to us?

Trump is the subconscious nightmare that we all don’t want to admit that we, as a nation, have birthed.  Will things detonate?  Certainly.  Will things get very, very ugly?  Without a doubt.  

Yet he’s also the current linchpin in our national healing process--more than anything, Trump presents an opportunity for self-acceptance.  Both individual and collective.  This is an unfathomable test of our humanity.  And if we see it like that, it will, if anything, make our lives a little less complicated, or at least we won’t spend so much time consumed by hate.  Because who consciously wants to live their life like that?   

Now, am I any good at this?  Not really, but awareness is always the first step.  And do I want him as our next president?  HELL NOOO!!!!!!!!  That would be TERRIBLE.  

At the same time, next time we’re spewing back the very same brand of venom he’s doling out, maybe we should take a second to consider from what part of our own psyche that hate is coming from.  And to remember that we can choose how we react.  


Thursday, March 3, 2016

Homeward Bound

The hardest part about traveling is coming home.  We’ve changed, and our friends seemingly haven’t, so we struggle to reconcile, let alone integrate, our former and current selves.  We might feel resentment about many things that we never even considered previously (consumerism, shallow social interactions, etc.), and it’s really difficult not to fall back into old habits.  And the most difficult fact of all to swallow?  WAL-MART STILL EXISTS.


Upon returning from a gap year of travel, it felt as though the things that I learned--mindfulness, a sense of interconnectedness, tolerance, gratitude (what am I, Buddha or something?)--were slowly oozing through my hands.  
And rightly so, as I wasn’t taking concrete actions to either incorporate the truths I had realized on the road into my old life, or use them to create the foundation and scaffolding of a new life; rather, I spent a lot of time complaining that ‘home’ wasn't providing me happiness.  Aka Buddha flips out.  


There are few things more disheartening than feeling new worlds and perspectives and ways of being in you grow and become clear, only to find yourself  in the basement beating Super Mario Kart for the 2,837th time (consolation: damn Cocoa Puffs are good!).  


In reality, my needs had simply evolved.  Social interactions clearly signalled this, as I was no longer content engaging in meaningless conversations with people at parties--I wanted to talk about what it feels like to be immersed in the babble of a foreign language and how that affects your psychology, or the patience required to haggle down the price of a bottle of water at the local shop.  I wanted to talk big-picture, and wanted to connect with the humanity in others, like I had done so many times with strangers during my travels.  


I wanted to be different than the person I was before I left, but didn’t quite know how to go about doing that.  As a result, I felt very, very lonely at times; most often, my journal consoled me in these moments of perceived isolation.


For travelers, journaling can oftentimes becomes the central axis for understanding and transformation, the forge where revolutionary ideas and beliefs and “HOLY SH**’s!!” get hammered into a personally sensible, working definition of the self.  Traveling forces us to change more than we can stand--or are aware of--and the only remnants I have of former selves (because the bodies of memories grow old and frail, too) remain in those well-worn books.  


I understand this about writing.  Yet it still shocked me when I opened my first travel journal recently, and was confronted with, well, the consummate a-hole that I was at the time.  


On the first day of my trip in New Zealand, I wrote, “I'm going to find out who I am and where I belong, and I'm going to knock down the door to get there.  Well, maybe just ring the doorbell enough until some smokin' hot chick lets me in.”  


Complete.  Prick.  


I guess it all makes sense when you consider that this guy was writing...


That’s über-cool-kid me on the left at the onset of my gap year travels in New Zealand (I traveled onward to Australia, Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia, India, and Nepal).  The most important lesson learned during my travels?  Don’t take pictures like this.


It’s easy to talk about myself like this now, and in hindsight, I can more fully appreciate how those experiences utterly transformed the trajectory of my life, my value system, and my way of being in the world.


But those first months coming home are still seared into my memory.


If you’ve changed significantly--either in your perspective on the world, or in how you view yourself--then returning to a world staked out and habitualized by a former self can lead to internal confusion and alienation.  


This is largely because your self-worth revolves tightly around the environment in which you grew up in and the people that surrounded and shaped you growing up; not feeling a strong connection to those who have been an integral part of the construction of your identity--to put it in the terms of 18-year old me--“straight up sucks, dude!”


Chances are that who you are now, and who you want to become, don’t align with who you were before you left.  


What to do?


DEVELOP NEW HABITS


Most of who we are stems from conditioning, habits, and belief systems that we develop before we’re cognizant of them--they’re ingrained in us.  And de/re-programming the hardware in our brains is no walk in the park.  Habits and beliefs seemingly rule our lives at times, and what’s even sneakier is that they operate subconsciously (yes, the habits are cowards, not I!).


For me, one old habit that caused me a lot of internal anguish was not taking my time when eating my food (okay, so “not taking my time while eating” meaning shoveling peanut butter into my face with a backhoe-spoon motion rather viciously...).  Like clockwork, this was followed by a bout of shame and, well, to put it lightly, “gastric distress.”  I’m still working on this today, but am so much more conscious of how I eat than before.  


Notice, simply, what your old habits are, and how they attribute or detract from your quality of life.  How do you feel after re-engaging an old habit?  What’s the thought process that ensues?  What do you want to change about your old way of being, and what new things do you want to integrate?   


Thought about it for a bit?  Okay great, now you can return to your bucket of Ben and Jerry’s.  


See, the tricky thing about trying to apply lessons learned while traveling is that they are most often not really things that you can set a ‘goal’ for.  How does one set a goal for greater tolerance?  Saying “by October, I will be 80% more tolerant” sounds stupid.  Because it is.  


So focus on small actions that cultivate that sense of tolerance in everyday life.  Maybe create a small catchphrase or affirmation to say to yourself when you notice yourself judging other people--“I fully recognize that we are all human beings with the same needs, desires, and struggles.”  Or, “Live, and let live.”  Or, “Everybody has their own thing.”  When you notice yourself slipping into an old thought process, say your catch phrase and return back to yourself, rather than allowing other people to irritate/scare you, and thus hold power over your life.  


Simply put: sure, set goals--then consider what habits, and small, manageable actions you can take that will naturally lead to those goals.  


It takes roughly thirty days of repeat action in order to create a habit, whereas the difficulty in focusing solely on your goal lies in constantly staring at the prize at the top of the mountain, which hijacks your concentration away from what you can do today, right now, to get you there.  


There’s no guidebook for this--no one can tell you exactly what all of your habits are (well, other than your mother when she’s yelling at you for itching the cocoa puff scratch a little too hard), and even if they can, no one can do the work of creating new habits that align with your value system or aspirations for you.  


This may seem daunting, and somehow slightly unfair--I get it, I’m a pretentious Millennial who’s also received an unfair amount of the ‘lazy’ DNA sequence from his ancestral lineage--yet to be clear, you don’t have to change all your old habits and create new ones all at once.  And you won’t.  Because you can’t.  It’s simply not human.  Building long-standing habits calls for effort and persistence dashed with patience and self-forgiveness.  Not your standard ‘to-go’ menu options, sure, which is why most New Year’s resolutions fail so miserably--we’re simply not used to delayed gratification.  


So start with baby steps.  


And the first step towards transformation is always awareness.


While there are many things that you simply can’t see and understand about yourself (it’s helpful to have honest friends and family who give you constructive feedback on your blind spots), the willingness to take an honest internal inventory of your strengths and weaknesses naturally snowballs into growth.  You have to want it, in the first place.


So, after establishing a willingness to change oneself, how does one go about further developing this ‘awareness’ thing?  (And, suddenly, I’m Buddha again!)


A great habit to develop that will nurture a keener sense of awareness is--ta-daaaaa, you guessed it--journaling.  Not the I-hate-my-life scribble scrabble or amateur hack poetry (I say this because that’s all I’ve written for most of my life), but rather a simple exercise that flexes much of what your travel jones impelled you naturally to flex.  


It’s called T.A.L.L.  


T.A.L.L.
Thankfulness, Accomplishment, Laughter, and Learning.


So before you go to bed, get your journal out, and reflect upon each of these themes and how it played a role in your day.  By all means, do this while traveling, but most importantly, upon return.  It will tune you into your internal processes while navigating the reintegration process, and help to maintain that sense of openness, questioning, and gratitude that traveling naturally triggers within us.


Here’s how I go about this (let it be known though--this is totally up to you!  There are no rules rules).


Thankfulness
Traveling naturally breeds appreciation--you start missing showers and Mom's Mac ‘n Cheese real quick once you find yourself pooing sideways for a month straight in India.  This will most likely make it glaringly apparent what you've been taking for granted your entire--let's be real here--pompous, entitled, life, and what you’re beholden to (ugh, your parents).  But more often than material comforts, it’s the immaterial contents of our lives that we’re most grateful for--the quality of a relationship with someone, or a particularly stimulating or fulfilling conversation, or the way that the air feels on your skin that day.  Every moment offers something new to be grateful for.
Accomplishment
This doesn’t have to be simply knocking your to-do list out of the park (another Mario Kart level up?  CHECK)--rather, focus on your state of being.  Was I at peace today, with myself, and with the world?  How did I handle the anxiety that came up when I was introduced to a stranger and became fearful of how they might judge me?  Was I kind to those I interacted with today?  Now, that doesn’t mean you should ignore your logistical accomplishments--in fact, celebrating what you do achieve by our cultural standards remains an important part of one’s self-worth.  Just remember that those are most likely other people’s standards, not your own.  Reflecting upon what you consider an accomplishment begins fostering your own definition of success, which is the foundation for a meaningful life.  


Laughter
Nothing is more important than writing down the moments when you doubled over, guffawing.  Once you begin to comb through your day, chances are you'll recognize how often you do laugh, which can be quite alarmingly awesome to realize.  Humor plays a vital role in augmenting our creativity, which directly affects our sense of well-being.  Simply put--no one ever complained about laughing too much.  


Learning
I recently spoke with a man who pulled both of his children out of school when they were 7 and 9, and traveled around the world with them for a year.  He said that traveling was their education, and that schooling was, well, their schooling.  And that’s exactly why the term "Gap Year" misleads-- it implies some gaping hole in your life, when in reality, a year of experiential learning may be one of the richest chapters of your story.  Such a journey not only prepares you to succeed academically at college (because you'll be refreshed and have a greater understanding of what interests you), it piques a curiosity that engenders life-long learning.  If you begin to apply that curiosity, to pay close attention to your life, you'll see that every interaction presents a teaching (if you’re willing to see it), and moments of adversity will ‘test’ your character.  There’s no “GPA” for growing up.  Welcome to the School of Life.  


The acronym is all fine and good, but there’s one important thing to remember: don’t reduce your entries to rote and cliche fluffballs: "I'm thankful for my health, my family, and my iPhone."  NOOOOOO!!!!  Just put those in reverse order… okay, that’s better.


In all sincerity, focus on being thankful specifically for what happened that day--maybe your good health allowed you to run away from a gang of really cute, yet kinda rabid street kids who wanted all of your pencils even though you didn’t have any.  Or, if you’re thankful for your family, what member of your family are you thankful for, and why?  What in your day caused you to think about them, and cherish the role that they play in your life?  How has their presence enriched your life?  


While it’s important to tackle the big picture questions--“What makes me feel alive?” “What is my personal definition of success?” “What are my biggest strengths, and my most glaring weaknesses?”)--they oftentimes have the quality of goals.  One and done.  The mountain you’re staring up at.


A more promising endeavor would be to convert your answers to big-picture questions into intentions--loose guiding parameters for your life.  Then utilize T.A.L.L. and build the habit of reflecting upon your experiences.  Your reflections will indicate whether or not you’re heading in the direction of those intentions, and the life you want to lead.


Think that you’ll struggle to do this every day?  Then you’re like 98% of the world's population--join the club!  A handy solution: grab a friend who is also interested in such things, and create a spreadsheet where you track and share your accomplishments, holding each other accountable in the process.  Schedule weekly check-ins with one another to share your processes.  


When practiced daily, this reflective exercise cultivates an acute awareness for the details that accrue into a vividness of life, a life you can hold in your hands and feel the edges and texture of.  A life you can begin to appreciate simultaneously from a bird's eye view, and from within your heart.


Maybe you caught the flash of a smile on someone’s face in the market while they were looking down, lost in their own world.  Maybe you saw an old woman taking her sweet, sweet time hobbling along while traffic streams around her, honking.  Maybe someone took the time to really look you in the eyes and take you seriously.  


So--before you go to bed, write down what you're thankful for, what you've accomplished, what made you laugh, and what you learned that day.  And if you do that long enough, a smokin' hot chick will answer the door and tell you who you are.  Just kidding.  


But you will become more conscious of the beauty and blessings that your life bestows upon you daily; more grateful, humble (you know, just a few of the things that every great spiritual tradition ever uphold), interested, honest, and fun.  You will become more awake, and more alive.  


Paying attention is the greatest resource that we have as human beings.  And if you’re really paying attention, you’ll see that every interaction offers a gift from a stranger, or a loved one.  And those are the gifts that will continue to give.

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Yak Back



I have been living in Europe for the last few years, and upon return, I’ve noticed a few things of irkish nature, things that seem more resolutely “American” than ever.  I’ve become aware of these things through interactions, but also in the re-emergence of old habits and patterns that run rather deep within myself (although I’m having a hard time convincing myself that being caught red-handed (by myself) halfway through shoveling a jar of crunchy peanut butter into my face is society’s fault). 
First—my propensity towards consumption has been disconcerting.  Not just food, but technology as well.  Hashtags ‘n shit.  Specifically, the quality of my consumption—namely how I consume.  What’s the point of checking my email 5-10 times a day if I’m not going to sit down and really answer them?  What about eating food while standing up, which contradicts my scoffing at drive-thru goers?  Being constantly available to texts and emails has led to an anxious ambient tension; an unconscious concern for missing out; a frenetic radar for stimulation, constantly scanning all horizons.  
I wouldn’t consider myself unhurried or calm by most measures (aforementioned peanut butter binge—case in point), but I’ve noticed that this hunger for consumption has altered the way that we—yes, I will risk generalization here—interact significantly.  What struck me most immediately upon return was Conversation, and namely the lack thereof.
Growing up in America, I guess I’ve been hardwired to shoot breeze, to la-tee-da it with one and all, to keep up with the Joneses (and Clintons, and Bushes—wait, did big money just get into small talk?!?! Sorry, had to…).  To Talk Small.  
Small Talk is Uncle Sam’s bread and butter.  It’s what we’re known for—gregarious openness, saying “how are you” and not meaning a lick of it.  For the collective effervescence of getting along, that lighthearted demeanor that most foreigners construe as superficiality; or, as some might have it, “friendliness.”
[Digression: I can’t help but think of that scene in The Italian Job—which I watched countless times as a teenager, for reasons still unbeknownst to me (let’s just say it’s hard to forgive yourself for at some point or other truly believing that Mark Wahlberg was cool)—where Donald Sutherland asks Charlize Theron how she’s doing, and she responds with, well, what else—“fine.”  
“You know what “fine” stands for?” he counters.  “Freaked out, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional.”  
Shitty movie, but a good point.  End, Digression.]
Friendliness is the great American social virtue.  But in being tainted by our penchant for consumption, social exchanges have felt wildly A.D.D. and random to me—simply anything but a pause, god forbid silence.  Since I’ve been back (I was living mostly in Germany), conversation has felt, at times, like escapism.
I never knew the quality of speaking slowly until I could speak German at a proficient level.  Somewhere amidst my progression towards fluency, desperately grasping for words in order to translate the images in my head became a steadied and measured feeling of pace, of allowing for space between words, and larger silences between sentences—space for thoughts to begin materializing into language.  Intention became more than a buzzword.  And in learning another language, I’ve intuitively begun recalibrating my relationship to my mother tongue.  I like when conversations stay on topic, and can test myself to see if there’s something hiding in me that I didn’t realize I thought.  More than anything, I relish when people take a moment to consider what they’re to say next; it reminds me of what makes music interesting—the tension of the space between the notes.  
Venting and Pontificating aside (oh…wait, there’s more of that…), Small Talk stunt doubles as context and the ultimate human lubricant (yes, that is the only word I can use there)—humor.  The exchange of X’s and O’s.  Valuable grease, really—good stuff.   Not just for networking/connecting, but especially when leveraged as fertile ground for Big Talk.  And in the grander scheme of things, Small Talk is beautiful in that it might be our most accomplished democratic tendency—breeze can be shot between most anyone.  
If anything, this is a declaration of a desired way of being; a reminder, and an affirmation: if this is the type of conversation I’m seeking for, pointing my finger at gross American culture isn’t going to help me get it.  
Guess I’m going to have to take this spoon out of my mouth first.


Saturday, October 10, 2015

I Thought to be Slow


Capped like an electric wheelchair
whining to consume more parquet tiles
racing down the hallway
I'm counting until the moon--
there are no more numbers now
just a brow scrunched like vacuum sealed packaging.

Mr. Penny used to ride his bicycle
while we were shooting hoops,
baggy shorts, the newest shoes,
six out of ten from the free throw line.
Forgive me, Lord of my Childhood,
for peeing at the roots of the tree that
hoisted us away from Mom's
calls for supper.
Forgive me—
Down in my meadow, knee-deep in the
weeds of this mind.





Thursday, October 1, 2015

Why and I Watching MarieTV?

Because my brother does!  So... basically, he's the uncool one, but I'm going to cherrypick all the creativity cred and chuck a duce before anyone realizes what actually happened...



CLIFF(bar) NOTES (paraphrasing):

"I'm not interested in conquering fear.  Fear protects us.  But fear doesn't know the difference between a genuinely dangerous situation and a creative endeavor because creativity is such a new part of our brains."

Talk to your fear--"So, thanks for coming along, I know how vitally important you are to my safety, but we don't need you on this one."

Originality vs. Authenticity --"It may have been done before, but it has not been done by YOU.  There are no new stories to tell.  They've all been told before.  We're just borrowing from each other.  But the humanity in an authentic piece of creation is what moves our hearts."

"Helping people is a side effect of creativity, and ALL HELP IS A SIDE EFFECT OF LOVE.  Love where you are, what you're doing, and you'll start radiating, and making everyone better around you.  That's the best thing that you can do for your community."

"Don't murder your creativity by insisting that it will pay the bills.  We're all adults here.  Let's be honest that if you try really hard at something, it doesn't mean that you're going to get everything that you've been dreaming about."

"Perfectionism is a serial killer.  True perfectionist don't even start."

"Done is better than good.  what will make you finish things is not discipline, but self-forgiveness."

"When did inspiration promise you anything other than dancing with it for a while?  There's no better thing to do in life than to say yes to that invitation."

"Your project is not a human baby.  If anything, you're your own project's baby.  That's why you have to let your creativity out, because it has you as a project, it's building you, it's creating you."


Or... you could just watch it yourself.  Please do.

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Home

Lips:
Cedar woods that my breath
Ebbs though.
Flow:
Light into the corners of your eyes
Where I see for the first time the colors of the land
We grew up in.
Did you know:
Light has a consciousness of its own?
Me:
Down on my fields.
Love:
Light, as ever,

Conscious of its own.


Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Notes from a Summer, V


I guess this is growing up—the feathers that found themselves in my fingers while weeding, the way the sky triumphantly marched cloud after cloud across the sky but only rained once. Watching my hands hoe the greenhouse dirt as if they themselves were the challenge of staying present; they hardly have to do with it. The days are starting to blend together like watercolors… ah, to know the feeling of a cloud that wants to spread its roots.

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Notes from a Summer, IV


I know how midday’s heat
Gnashes its teeth
And how watching the sun burn out
Next to the wildflowers is a religious
Experience if you allow yourself the
Ideleness to watch your own flame
Still and hush beneath the sweat
Dark blanket of your own night:
Solitude.