13 November 2013

Hungry Humility

Fasting is one of the most gratifying experiences for me. At least once a month I go without food and drink for 24 hours. I've tried other forms of fasting too. Ramadan was one of my favorites. As long as you can see sunlight then it's work hard, meditate, and don't eat or drink. A day of silence is another favorite. Try to not to speak from when you wake up to when you fall asleep. I have also heard of mirror fasts. People refuse to study their physical appearance for days, weeks, or months. They avoid mirrors, reflective surfaces, and photos of themselves. They just exist and take away the temptation to judge their body.

Humility, to me, is being grateful for your dependency on God. And if you don't believe in God, can you substitute a higher power, nature, or the goodwill of others for God? I think they'd work for the sake of this. It has three parts. It means being grateful that someone, something, or some others help you. And it also means recognizing your dependency on it or them. I can do both of those easily. Part three is being grateful for your dependency. That is a Herculean feat for me. I do not want to be dependent forever and being grateful for it seems like giving in to the idea that I cannot become great on my own (and while I think I am not great on my own I do not believe it yet. Cursed disagreements between my heart and mind).

But I realized food is a great source to explore my humility. I love food. I am often hungry. I do not grow, harvest, or produce anything I eat. Sometimes I cook it, but it is with materials provided through tubes and rods to my apartment. So I recognize I am dependent on others for my food and ability to cook. I am grateful I live in a society that provides me with easy ways to trade money for food so that I can specialize my education and labors on self-gratifying dreams. And I am even grateful for my dependency.

I am grateful because the economic model of such a system makes sense. Specialization helps everyone (okay, just most people most of the time). It improves society as a whole, enabling us to reach new heights of art, technology, study, and thought.
I am also grateful because it is so rewarding. I love food. I love that I have to eat several times a day. The way it feels: chewing, swallowing, pooping, digesting. It's all so relaxing and relieving. I love how exciting it is to taste new dishes. It's even better to make new dishes. It is an easily learned skill with delightful, immediate rewards. Food is great.

So I wonder, why can't my hungry humility apply to other situations? Why can't humility be more consciously rewarding? Helping someone move makes me feel good because it is a workout, I get to know new people or say goodbye to old friends, and it makes me grateful for what I have. I feel humbled by the experience. Teaching a class feels good because it helps me relive the learning opportunities I've had. Whether they were good or not I am grateful they happened because they taught me something, whether intended or not. I am humbled by seeing people learn new things.
There really is a way to be more active about my humility.

28 October 2013

100 Percent

Having enough credits to have graduated if I'd applied them correctly, I am now taking my last 100-level college class. We turned in our one paper a couple weeks ago. I put some good work into it, infusing anecdotes, style, and classy metaphors into one short page.

When we got the papers back I saw 100 circled in red pen at the top. A perfect score. And my first thought was, "Great, I spent all that work and she just handed out perfect grades for completion." Then I looked around (my vanity often compares myself to others' grades). I saw 83 circled. Next to it was an 87. A 93 peeked over someone's shoulder in front of me.

I felt no pride. I was not better than any of these people. I have a lot of experience that has made me a fairly good writer. I worked hard on the paper. I produced something good.
But it wasn't my best and it wasn't life-changing. So I felt sorrow. It was depressing. I could not be satisfied with my grade. By the standards of a 100-level class I probably did deserve the grade I got, but I could not accept it. I cannot accept someone's praise for a really good job. And I hate it.

This is a sad result of college for me. There is a poison I incubate, injected by teacher after teacher who refuses to give out A's in some self-righteous false doctrine of secular education. It secretes just as I want to accept that I am not mediocre. That I might just be above average or, dare I say, excellent. I can no longer feel the joy of accomplishment or even acceptance, because I have spent three years surviving a godless competition of artificially valued curves, as if my value is as chaotic or arbitrary as the stock market.

And in a way it shut me down. I have trouble trying in my classes now. I am sick of trying to impress someone who does not care about me. I am sick of teachers. I want a mentor.

27 May 2013

Giving the Chance to be Forgiven

A couple of my friends are in a bit of a contention. One guy had a bad breakup a couple months ago with a gal he really liked. After the breakup he found out she had dated him for practice. Well, this last week, said guy found out his best friend has started dating this heart-breaker. Hard toke brah.

Unfortunately I disagree with the way both of them are dealing with the situation. Guy 1 feels deeply betrayed. Understandable. Guy 2 feels like he needs to take what life is giving him. Understandable. I've been in both positions. I can dig it. But 1 feels that 2 needs to decide between a bromance and a romance, so he gave 2 an ultimatum: 2 had 24 hours to decide to break up with the gal or find a new place to live for the upcoming months.
My trouble with their actions are the consequences. I can understand going with the flow, but you have to draw some lines for yourself. Most people are not going to do a kilo of cocaine if they happen upon it. And hopefully a person's line is far before that. I've heard all sorts of "rules" about when it is appropriate to date a friend's ex, but making a rule about emotions is like using a sieve to hold water; they're too fluid. So when you care about a person you should draw lines so that even the lemons and sugars of life cannot force you to hurt them. We might not mean to hurt others, but we should be careful to ensure we mean not to hurt them too.

But my biggest trouble is with giving an ultimatum. It only makes things worse. If 2 picks the friendship then he may always feel regret and spite towards 1 for denying him a chance at happiness. If 2 picks the girl now and then later finds out she is not someone he can love then he lost a friend (it should also be mentioned that the girl is planning on leaving in a few months for a year and a half. So she isn't looking for a long-term relationship and one isn't really possible). Worst of all, 1 is preventing 2 almost any chance of someday being forgiven. If things turn sour with 2's relationship and he wants to renew his friendship with 1, 1 is telling 2 that there is no chance. So why would he try? And if no one tries to seek forgiveness then there is no chance for the relationship to continue.

I almost went there a few years ago. A girl really hurt my heart. She lied to me and broke countless promises. I wanted so badly to tell her that she had to choose between me and another and that I would never be there for her again if she didn't choose me. I have always been grateful that I decided not to tell her that (mostly because I realized it isn't true). It would have been unfair. It would have forever prevented us from reconciling. She and I are still not close and I would have trouble calling her even a friend after how she still treats me, but I feel like there is a chance for either of us to someday try to renew what was a very deep and satisfying friendship. I am glad I gave us a chance by denying myself the selfish pleasures of telling her off.

Things don't always work out the way we want them to, but life is good; things always turn out alright. Sometimes (most times) one needs to just leave them alone until they come home.