Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts

Monday, October 31, 2011

Unplugged . . .Part 2


While I’m “acoustic” I thought I’d take another look at a theme I mulled over in the summer – “The Courage to Live”.

The original piece I wrote was inspired by - and in response to - a part philosophical, part existential question posed by a person very dear to me.

While this second analysis of the subject started with my own musings on dealing with the adversities of life, I found much inspiration from the thoughts of two men – Walter Anderson (an American magazine editor) and Rollo May (an existential psychologist & author).

I came across both men while researching this piece and was struck by Anderson’s very common sense logic and simplicity and by May’s altogether more challenging thinking in his pioneering work in existential psychology.

In particular May’s belief that apathy was the opposite to love and that as humans our unique knowledge that we are to die, liberates the human will to act and to be. In other words, our lives are defined by the knowledge that one day we will die.

We either act against that continually and live, love, act - or we accept it apathetically and let our selves deteriorate to almost non-existence. Either we find the meaning of life inside ourselves, or we accept that life has no meaning, and therefore we as beings are meaningless.

The last time I tackled this subject I focused on optimism as the driver for courage. The ability to see the possible, the positive, the good and the upside. To be hopeful.

I think optimism – of which I am a committed practitioner – is one half of the courage to live. But I think that there is another part to courage that is equally important and perhaps a pre-cursor to optimism. It’s about choosing life – and the things necessary to make that choice . . .

“I am responsible. Although I may not be able to prevent the worst from happening, I am responsible for my attitude toward the inevitable misfortunes that darken life. Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have – life itself.” - Walter Anderson

To choose life we need courage.

Courage is a big challenge for many of us. That inner strength or confidence to take on something we have no idea will work out, to face a difficult truth or fear, to pass through a difficult period. Where the downside is loss, pain, expense, cost, discomfort or some other misfortune and where the upside may be invisible, or only partially clear. . . that’s quite a big bet for a lot of us, and it’s something we face on an almost daily basis.

Of course most of us find the courage we need for the little things in life through comparative experiences. If this does not work then we turn perhaps to our friends, our families, colleagues, or our partners – but the big things in life are much more difficult.

We need a special kind of courage to deal with those big challenges and fears – we need courage from within.

And I believe courage is born of trust. Optimism may sustain that courage, but for it to be born, it is born of trust.

Trust of ourselves.

“Our lives improve only when we take chances and the first and most difficult risk we can take is to be honest with ourselves.” Walter Anderson

It sounds simple, but it isn’t. To trust ourselves we must make ourselves vulnerable to our very own self. We must first expose and then accept our fears, our weaknesses, our challenges and those parts of our selves we would rather ignore or rather run away from.

Not only must we accept them and acknowledge them, we must embrace them. We must bring them close to us and see that they are a part of our “self”.

This is very hard for many of us as it often involves struggling with feelings of guilt, low self-esteem, bitterness, sadness and frequently a feeling of being lost, confused, out of control, consumed and detached from our good selves. These are unpleasant emotions and behaviors at the best of times and we naturally do not want to dwell on them – but dwell on them we must if we are to understand them and accept them.

As we spend time becoming accustomed to our “dark sides”, our fears and our weaknesses, we can begin to contextualize them, and then begin to accept them as part of us.

First we should accept that our fears, weaknesses and occasional bad behaviors are human. They are natural and they are normal. We all have them; they are part of every one of us.

None of us is “damaged goods” just because we are afraid sometimes, just because we are weak occasionally or because we behave badly now and again.

If we are jealous or angry, selfish or harsh, nasty or cold it is only because we are also compassionate and patient, generous and gentle, affectionate and warm.

I believe that to a large degree our personalities are defined by duality  - as it is through contrast we understand what is right and good, and what is wrong and bad. As good defines evil and vice versa, so do our happy and good characteristics define our unhappy and bad ones (and vice versa).

Second, to accept our “selves” as “whole” by acknowledging all of our characteristics and personality traits is not an act of relegation or dismissal. It is an act of forgiveness.

However, forgiveness is not absolution.

To forgive our self is not license or permission to behave without consequence – it is instead to acknowledge our mistakes, our weaknesses and to resolve first to live with them and second to work with them.

Think of coming to the realization that one is overweight for example. To forgive oneself for being overweight is a healthy thing to do. To see that forgiveness as permission to carry on being overweight and neglect oneself is not healthy. To build on the forgiveness of oneself by resolving to lose weight and thus take care of one self better is the healthy response. (A personal example there!)

An alternative might be hurting someone’s feelings. Initially on becoming conscious of this “bad” behavior, we might feel guilty and remorseful. We might even “punish” ourselves in some way – but instead we should forgive ourselves and then build. By which I mean, acknowledge that hurting people happens. We don’t mean to hurt most of the time and when we do so we need to accept it as part of life. An ugly part of life by which we can also understand a more beautiful part like care, affection, nurture (the opposites or contrasts of “hurting someone”). But then we must move on to build and resolve. Why did we hurt that person? What caused it? Can we avoid doing so in the future? Can we at least mitigate the hurt we cause? These kinds of questions – if answered honestly and truly – can help us understand our behavior better – and consequently avoid it (at least more often) if we resolve to.

And there is a good reason for us to go to this trouble of acknowledgment, forgiveness, analysis and resolution . . .

Learning to live with one’s fears, weaknesses and negative behaviors is learning to take care of oneself. It is the act of care for one’s “self” that enables us to grow as people and to find balance and peace.

Taking care of ourselves is the most basic expression of love for our “self” – and in turn the most basic way of reassuring ourselves that we have value, that we are worthy, that we are attractive, desirable and so on.

"To love means to open ourselves to the negative as well as the positive - to grief, sorrow, and disappointment as well as to joy, fulfillment, and an intensity of consciousness we did not know was possible before."  Rollo May

It will not and cannot prevent us entirely from facing fear or weakness again – but it provides us with the means to begin to be comfortable enough with our “self” to be able to trust and trust provides us with the mechanism with which to deal with our fears and weaknesses – as our trust in others allows us to deal with theirs.

We usually think of trust as something we direct to someone else – and not to ourselves. Not something that relates to our relationship with our “self”. But in fact, no matter how much we may want to, we cannot trust anyone else if we cannot trust our “self”. 

Think of this quotation – again from Walter Anderson:

“We're never so vulnerable than when we trust someone - but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy”.

Think of the same concepts but placing our “self” in place of “someone”.  If we cannot trust ourselves, how can we trust anyone else?

And if we cannot trust then we cannot love.

I am slightly unusual in this regard in that I place a lot of trust and faith in people based on either instinct or hope or both.  In my professional life it is called “empowerment” and for me it has always been the force that motivates me to do and be my best at work. When I have been trusted I will go the extra mile and more. I do not want to let that person down. As a result of my own experience I tend to trust and empower others. I trust in something I have no reason to – in other words I have faith.

In my personal life it is less about empowerment per se than it is about a desire for engagement, for connection. It is my currency for connection.  I empower someone else to be in my life is perhaps another way of putting it. I have faith in them as another human being that they will act with compassion. I have faith in them.

Many times – both professionally and personally - my trust has been abused, broken or otherwise misplaced, my “currency” stolen, but I cannot help myself and remained committedly optimistic. I believe that to give someone trust based on faith, and without particular knowledge or “testing” is generous and kind– albeit very risky, as it makes one vulnerable. But then that is the nature of trust!

Of course I realize it can be overwhelming for some, but I believe that trust is such a binding connection, such a force for good and so precious, that I cannot hide behind the fear of risk when the return is so energizing and positive. And I hope to God my optimism in this regard is never tainted and turned to cynicism.

Of course trust is not a switch. It’s a slider (think of a mixing desk in a recording studio and all those lovely sliders which slowly increase the volume, the reverb, the bass, the treble etc).

A switch is binary, a slider is dynamic. Trust is a dynamic emotion – not a binary one.

However, while trust can grow gradually and relatively as well as quickly, when it is broken it can sometimes be pretty absolute.

My experience though is that the greater the genuine trust, the greater the capacity for forgiveness.

Trust enables us to overcome our fears. To have courage. To find our faith again

“You block your dream when you allow your fear to grow bigger than your faith.” Mary Manin Morrissey (Empowerment Specialist and “New Thought” Minister)

So to recap:

Through accepting our “self” with the fears and weaknesses we have, we can learn to love our whole self (not just our good self) – because we forgive and resolve. We resolve to take care of our “self” and love our “self” because we conclude that we are worthy of care and love. We provide that love and care to our “self” and we begin to trust our “self” because it is familiar, it no longer frightens us, and we have learned to have faith in it.

So when we need to find the courage to live through the really difficult parts of life, we need to look within ourselves.

If we have learned to accept our fears and weakness, if we have learned to forgive ourselves for those things we have done which we would rather not have done, if we have learned to trust ourselves, then we will find the strength within to be courageous. To find our faith again.

And if we are courageous we will find not only how to live, but also how to love.

Each of us is worth life and worth love. Each of us deserves life and deserves love.

When we can feel and understand why we deserve life and love, we will find the courage to live life, to love and ultimately - to be loved.

So the courage to live is also the courage to love. For to live is to love and to love is to live.

In the words of the renowned psychologist and psychoanalyst Erich Fromm:

“Love means to commit oneself without guarantee, to give oneself completely in the hope that our love will produce love in the loved person. Love is an act of faith, and whoever is of little faith is also of little love.”

This piece is “αφιερωμένο” to my "Λέαινα"  - I hope this helps you to find the "Play" button. 

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Odyssey - the journey to Greece (2011) - Part 8 – So this is it?


Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
Mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
Che la diritta via era smarrita
[Canto 1, Inferno, La Divina Commedia, Dante Alighieri]

In the middle of the journey of our life
I found myself astray in a dark wood
where the straight road had been lost sight of.
[Translation by Seamus Heaney]

Recently – and I don’t know if it is connected to turning 40 earlier this year – I have been having some repeated thoughts on where I am at in life and my identity . . .

A theme that has developed can be best summarized with “I guess this is kind of how it is and how it’s going to be.”

What do I mean by that?

Well, I think I may have grown up. ("Hooray!" cheered the remaining parent!)

I seem to be content with most aspects of my life, with the things I do, with the people I spend time with, and mostly with myself. And those things which I am not content with, I am able to deal with.

In my teenage years and into my twenties I was so thirsty for new experiences that I did everything I could to chase them. Nothing satisfied me for more than a little while and then I was on to the next thing, greedily hoovering up experiences and information as quickly as I could.  As a result it was really pretty difficult for anyone – and especially me – to know who I was.

In my thirties I began to settle slightly and come to terms with life a little more. I stopped searching quite so much for the new, and tried instead to become more familiar with what was already in my life – and in me. A tough process.

When you’ve spent your life hitherto running from one thing to another, metamorphosing constantly and deliberately, to suddenly sit and catch up with yourself takes some getting used to. But it’s a valuable process, as well as a tough one.

Now I seem to be happy in the knowledge that more or less things are going to be like this. And probably not like that.

I’m not going to develop any new hobbies. I’m not going to become an athlete, star in a movie, build a business empire, change the world, or learn a new language. I’m not going to take up any more musical instruments and I will probably never play golf. The places I like to spend time – like here in Greece – will still be the places I like to spend time and the people in my life will hopefully remain and be constant.

This is not to say that I won’t travel, I won’t meet new people, listen to new music or try new food etc. That would actually signal death.

No, no – it just means that I am the way I am, and at this stage in my late development, it isn’t likely to change.

A few years ago that thought would have scared the living daylights out of me and would have been something I would have kicked against hard. But now it seems to be natural and somewhat calming. I don’t need too many new things or new experiences to be content.

It doesn’t mean to say either that there aren’t things in my life that I don’t want to change – there are.  Plenty. Nor does it mean that I don’t foresee myself continuing to grow (& grow up) – it is just a realization of “maybe this is who I am.”

And perhaps more importantly – finally being moderately comfortable with that thought.

I still need to balance, to sensitize, to contextualize and to moderate – but I feel lately that this is both possible / achievable and again, importantly, something that will come naturally.

So . . .this is it. And I quite like it.


Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Odyssey - the journey to Greece (2011) - Part 7 – Life & Death

There was a great Texan country folk singer by the name of Townes Van Zandt who died in 1997. Townes Van Zandt wrote beautiful songs / poems and performed them with a melancholy that is almost unsurpassed. Even his love songs like “If I Needed You” sound sad.

He was a long term heroin addict and chronic alcoholic who once offered to sell all the publishing rights of his songs for $20 to get some smack, and also once shot up in front of his 8 year old son. He died at the age of 52.

One of his blacker songs – and one of my favourites – is “Waiting Around To Die”:

Waiting Around To Die – Townes Van Zandt
Sometimes I don't know where this dirty road is taking me
Sometimes I can't even see the reason why
I guess I keep on gamblin', lots of booze and lots of ramblin'
It's easier than just a-waitin' 'round to die

One-time friends I had a ma, I even had a pa
He beat her with a belt once cause she cried
She told him to take care of me, she headed down to Tennessee
It's easier than just a-waitin' 'round to die

I came of age and found a girl in a Tuscaloosa bar
She cleaned me out and hit it on the sly
I tried to kill the pain, I bought some wine and hopped a train
Seemed easier than just a-waitin' 'round to die

A friend said he knew where some easy money was
We robbed a man and brother did we fly
The posse caught up with me, drug me back to Muskogee
It's two long years, just a-waitin' 'round to die

Now I'm out of prison, I got me a friend at last
He don't steal or cheat or drink or lie
His name's codeine, he's the nicest thing I've seen
Together we're gonna wait around and die

The original tune from the album it came from is here (with some great photos of Townes): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MwR1n0p1V7U

Another great recording is this duet with Townes and Calvin Russell: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bNM4OwJX1H0

From the brief biography and the song above, it is pretty clear that while Townes had talent, friends, family, money, some success (although while alive he was always something of a “cult” musician – and very much a musician’s musician), and many other opportunities besides, for him life was too much of a challenge. Life for him was about waiting around to die – which he did. Far too young.

For those of us with far less musical and poetic talent, life still has its challenges and difficulties to overcome. We can either accept those challenges and beat them – having the courage to choose life or we can be undone by them, dragged down and just wait around to die.

In the last few weeks I have had close friends and family be diagnosed with cancer, undergo serious surgery, have loved ones involved in serious car accidents and then of course there are many who struggle with everyday life – with depression, with unemployment, with unhappy marriages, with stressful jobs and so on. Life can be a bitch – and some of it is of our own making, which makes it all the more painful, ironic and frustrating.

Pessimists rejoice of course in this aspect of the human condition. The American journalist George F. Will who currently writes for the Washington Post wrote in his book “The Leveling Wind”: “The nice part about being a pessimist is that you are constantly being either proven right or pleasantly surprised.”

I, however, am delighted to be proven wrong and unpleasantly disappointed – for I am an optimist. A fully paid-up member of the club and an advocate to boot.

Why do I choose optimism? Because it provides me with the courage to live my life as fully as I can. Without optimism, I am sorely afraid that I would end up waiting around to die – and that would be a waste of my time, the time of others and frankly a waste of a good opportunity.

Being a greedy person generally, I want to get the most I can from life – especially as it is finite and quite possible shorter than one might imagine or hope. Although my natural optimism wars with my other tendencies of idealism and pragmatism – I tend to settle on a biblical target of three score years and ten – with any upside representing a profit margin I am willing to declare to the Good Lord on the day of reckoning. And if I do live longer than that – just another thirty years before break-even– then I will certainly owe some taxes on my extra profited years.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines optimism as having "hopefulness and confidence about the future or successful outcome of something; a tendency to take a favourable or hopeful view."
I tend to take that view about my life. I think that most things will turn out well or very well – but I accept that some won’t. I believe that on balance, if I stay positive, I will enjoy life more than if I let it get me down. And when I am down or have the devil in me (see: http://osapp.blogspot.com/2009/06/devil-inside.html ) it doesn’t last long if I focus on the positive things ahead.

I’ve always subscribed to the philosophy that it is better to regret something you have done, than something you haven’t done. The only time I modify that philosophy is when my actions might directly impact other people negatively – and then I weigh things up a little more carefully.

Don’t worry – I’m not about to get myself an orange dress, a dumb haircut and start chanting Hare Krishna – nor am I shaking my rattle in the church hall singing “Kumbaya”.

I am talking about a faith in life that overrides my fear of life. For all of us have fears – and the most deep rooted ones are about our own existence. Mortality, identity, security, vulnerability, vanity and so on.

I know I’m going to die. I’m not awfully keen about doing it anytime soon – but then it may not be entirely up to me.

I know who I am – more or less – and find as I grow older (and hopefully just a little wiser as opposed to just wider) that I am more and more comfortable with who I am. Good and bad. (Next step is to balance better once confident in the knowledge of both aspects)

I do not fear for my security over much – thankfully I live in places where generally I don’t need to. I do appreciate that for others this is not so easy.

I do not worry about my vulnerability as I seem to be able to bounce back from most things whether disease, physical injury, psychological or emotional trauma and so on – and I think a good deal of my ability to do is because of my optimism (with just a sprinkling of idealism).

As for vanity – it is closely linked to one’s ego. We all have one – the trick is to try and keep it in check as much as possible, but never to try and deny its existence. I don’t worry about my bald patch, my rather too large belly is a health concern more than a question of vanity and my looks are the ones I was blessed or cursed with and I don’t believe in plastic surgery other than for medical reasons – so that is that.

Of course – as I inferred in the part about security – I have life pretty damn good. I enjoy moderately good health – despite my very insistent efforts to compromise it – with some help from my employers and my clients. I am comparatively wealthy and enjoy a high standard of living. I live in peaceful, crime free environment. I come from a stable, conventional family. I am well educated and I work in a professional and broadly safe environment. So what’s not to be optimistic about?

If I was a starving child exposed to chronic diseases in Sub Saharan Africa? If I was a Palestinian living in Gaza or one of the refugee camps? If I had been born blind, deaf, paralysed, or with a fatal disease? If I had cancer? Would I still be as glib about optimism providing the courage to live life?

I would like to think that I would. I believe that no matter what disaster befalls us, whether at birth, by circumstance or by design – optimism is the difference between defeat and victory in terms of dealing with that challenge.

Faith – whether in God or good fortune – surely is a means to find resources from within oneself (or from others) and either overcome the problem one faces or simply learn to live with it ?
When my finger-tip was amputated recently, I was pragmatic and optimistic. My friends and loved ones were alternately shocked, sympathetic and even empathetic – many sad for me about my loss. I failed to understand this. Sure – it was painful, annoying and a bummer – but it was just a finger-tip. It could have been much worse. To me it was just one of those things. I gave thanks I hadn’t lost an eye or my hearing. I was pleased it was just the tip and not the whole finger – but generally it was just “one of those things”. Shit happens.

A few weeks afterwards I got very depressed about it. Not because my hands were no longer beautiful (that was compensated by the automatic 10% discount on manicures . . .) – but because it was going to very seriously affect one of my great loves in life. Playing the guitar. You kind of need all your finger tips to play guitar.

I’d looked up Tony Iommi and Django Reinhardt – two great guitarists of rather different genres. One was the founding father of heavy metal and the other a gypsy jazz legend. Both had serious finger injuries – Iommi losing two finger tips in an industrial accident and Django being burned in a fire which badly damaged his third and fourth fingers. I was buoyed by their stories and decided this wouldn’t be a problem. Until I tried to play.

At first my finger was very swollen and still very painful so playing was impossible anyway – but after the swelling went down I realized that I really couldn’t play half the songs anymore – including ones I had written myself. I was really devastated. Furious with myself that one passion (motorcycling) had cost me another (guitar playing). Sad that I would lose the comfort and joy that playing music brings me.

I mooched and moaned for weeks, feeling ever more grey and down about the whole thing. Wishing I could undo things. Until after a while I stopped and thought of two things. One is to do with relativism as a coping mechanism – the other is the power of lateral and optimistic thought.

Relativism helped me to contextualize my problem – I didn’t lose my arm. Or even my hand. OR even a whole finger. I lost a tip. If it had been worse then guitar would have certainly been off the menu forever - along with my new found interest of teaching myself piano. BUT, it wasn’t worse – therefore I was lucky and not unlucky. I had hope.

The lateral optimistic thinking went like this. I can’t play guitar like I used to. Can’t play the chords or scales that I used to. So I will learn to play guitar differently, will learn new chords and use different tunings to make my own sound. And that will be even better than before because it will expand my musical vocabulary. And so that is what I did.

Since my finger amputation, I have written and recorded three new songs, played a live gig in LA and learned new techniques using slide guitar, open tuning and using my little finger instead of the damaged third. I have to have another amputation on the third finger to take it down to the knuckle and it doesn’t bother me – because I have found some optimism in this small misfortune.

Now I didn’t watch my sister get blown to pieces on a land mine, or watch my family be blown up in our home, or see my whole village die of starvation or disease – so again one needs to frame the discussion within the context to which it might relate.

But even the orphaned child, the disease ridden villager, the widowed soldier’s wife have the choice of hope, and the relativism of “it could have been worse” – no matter how awful the trauma was. There is always the choice of life – and I would always advocate making that choice – and using optimism as the courage to do so. There is always the possibility of things getting better – and if we believe that, we can increase those chances to probability from possibility.

Two members of my family have committed suicide, another has tried. I wish the two had chosen life and had the courage to do so in the face of their pain, tragedy and loss. And I am glad the third ultimately did – as it would have been a wasted opportunity to live, to enjoy, to succeed, to laugh, to cry and to fail.

If we can fail, then by definition we can succeed. If we can die, then by definition we can live.

Just takes a little courage sometimes and seeing life from someplace else, if it doesn’t make sense from where you’re sitting.
This piece is “αφιερωμένο” to E.K. – thanks for the idea.

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