Being surprised...

Don't you love it when people surprise you?  I was feeling like shit the other day about being left out of my husband's exciting life, when I decided I was going to do something for myself to make my life exciting in a way only I would appreciate.  So, with a little nudge from the main character of Jonathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, 9-year old Oskar Schell, who, after his father perished in 9/11, wrote letters to his heroes- including Stephen Hawking- asking to be their proteges, I took a little chance.  I wrote to one of my heroes.

When I sit and think of what I imagine as the perfect life, it is a life of constant learning.  In my blog, it is evident that I go through phases in my interests.  One month I might be focused on the Holocaust, the next could be 9/11, then it's the life of Helen Keller, then the paranormal, then decorating, the next could be true crime, inevitably space travel makes an appearance, and life as an experience is pretty much always in the background.  This is the Montessori approach to education.  A child is given free reign over his own learning, focusing in one chosen direction until it is fulfilled (for the moment), and then moving to another.  The student breaks each topic apart step by step.  No two students study the same thing.  And, they use the world as a resource, not just the internet or the measly book selection in the school library.  This is the work of Mary Roach.

Roach has penned four books about science.  Only she's not a scientist.  She's an eternal learner.  She puts her all into what she studies, and I really mean her all.  When writing Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex, she actually had intercourse with her husband in front of researchers.  She holds nothing back.  I love this.  I don't usually claim heroes, but if I had to, she would be one of them.  So, I wrote her.  Just a short email telling her I wish we could share a Freaky Friday experience and swap lives, but that I'd settle for being her assistant.  And wouldn't you know, she wrote me back.  And not just wrote me back, I mean she actually responded to my comments and made jokes about them.  And, not only that, but she responded the very next day.  I have no words for this.  If I was looking for a little pick-me-up in my day, I certainly got it.

When it comes down to it, at the end of the day, we are all people.  We are all on the same level.  This is why the idea of heroes seems somehow wrong to me.  And, this email reminded me of that.  She wasn't too cool to respond to some lame-o wanna-be sitting on her couch crying because her life is not exciting.  So, in honor of the work of Mary Roach- and the fact that she is a completely genuine person- I want to begin compiling a list of some things I would like to explore:

1. What is the sound barrier?
2. What areas of the world remain yet to be "discovered"?
3. Are there any civilizations, present or past, who were able to survive without engaging in war?
4. How deep is the deepest ocean?
5. What are the phases of the moon and why do they occur?
6. How are waves formed?
7. How many languages are there that we know of?
8. Why are there hollow tree stumps in the marshes here?
9.  How do diving bells work?
10. What is the history of the Castillo de San Marcos?
11. How do you conjugate Spanish verbs?
12. What was it like to live in the 1950s?
13. How many countries are there?
14. Is there a way to keep serial killers from killing?
15. What is the deepest a person has gone underwater?
16. What did Josef Mengele do in his experiments?
17. How many wars has the US been involved in?
18. How many words are there in the English language?
19. What determines the types of clouds in the sky?
20. Once and for all, what is a black hole really?

Wow, this barely even nudges the surface.  I could keep this list going for as long as eternity.  To put it short and sweet, I will quote the movie, Harriet the Spy.  In one scene, Harriet and her friends visit an artist's garden where they find soda bottles hanging from the trees around them.  Golly, Harriet's nanny, pulls one down, shakes it up, and asks each of the kids to wish for what they want most in the world and then take a sip.  I, like Harriet, "want to see the whole world and I want to write down everything."

Happy Halloween!

Getting angry...

I blogged not too long ago about anger being stupid.  I was wrong.  Anger, unlike cockroaches, serves a valuable purpose.  This occurred to me yesterday while driving through a bright and beautiful morning.  You know how when you were a kid and were in the checkout line with your mom and you asked her for a candybar and she said no?  You threw a tantrum.  You were angry.  The trick of anger is to notice that you are not angry at your mom.  You are not even angry that you don't get to eat the candybar.  You are angry at the fact that you don't have a choice in the matter.

My husband is about to leave on tour for a very long time.  The longest time he's been away in the past four years.  To top it off, during this very long time, he will be sharing extremely close living quarters with a girl- a talented, cute one, nonetheless.  Neither of these facts makes me happy in the least.  In the past when such things have occurred, I have gotten angry- at my husband, at his boss, at life.  The anger then turned into sadness.  And, finally it became resignment to the fact that there was nothing I could do about it.

However, yesterday when the topic came up in discussion, I realized that yes, I was very angry, but no, my anger had no direction.  This time I was angry at no one and no thing.  I am not angry at my husband because his job is part of him and I cannot be angry at any one part of him, because then I wouldn't love the real him.  I can't be angry at his boss because he is giving my husband work, and I am thankful, not only for the money, but also for the opportunity for my husband to do what he loves.  I am not angry at life because life has given me a husband who not only loves me, but loves what he does.  There are so few people these days who can say that.  So, right there on I-295 I felt clean anger for the first time.  There was nothing to blame, no one to stand accused.  And it felt good.  It felt good because it suddenly brought to light the purpose of anger.

Anger's purpose is to give us a sense of control in a situation where we have none.  For most, anger is a type of self-delusion.  For instance, you may not be able to do anything about the cost of healthcare, but you can be angry about it and find someone to blame for it.  It's interesting because in blaming someone else, it would seem that you are giving them power over you.  You are admitting that that one person, whom you've probably never met, has the power to make you do something you don't want to do (in this case, pay high prices for shitty healthcare).  But, it is in the act of being angry at that person that you delude yourself into believing that you are actively doing something about it, thereby gaining control over the situation.  But the truth is- when you are angry at someone, you are never in control.  The anger is.

But yesterday I realized that feeling clean anger that is directed at no one is true power.  Not self-delusion.  Because I was taking responsibility for my own anger.  I wasn't blaming it on someone else.  I wasn't taking my lot in life and laying it on some random party whom I had connected to my plight via my mind's desperate attempts at rationalization.  I was angry- period.  For whatever reason, just being angry was enough.  And, it passed just as quickly as it had come.  I read in neuroanatomist Jill Bolte Taylor's book, My Stroke of Insight, that the brain only holds on to its anger stimulus for something like 15 seconds.  If you remain angry after that, then it is of your own conscious choice.

I worry about the way people live their lives today.  It seems they are always looking for someone to blame for anything and everything.  The number of lawsuits alone points to this delusion.  It seems to me that for most situations there is no one to blame.  And besides, we don't look for someone to blame every time something good happens in our lives.  If I win the lottery, I'm just gonna be thankful.  I'm not going to "blame" the cashier and give him part of my earnings.  For all that is good, our tendency is to credit either ourselves or God.  For all that is bad, our tendency is to blame another person.  Why can't what happens just happen?  Good or bad.  Being angry at someone does not change the situation.  What it does change is you. 

Reviewing...

I recently received a huge gift.  A friend of mine gave me a review of a review I had written and pointed out what I feel is one of my major flaws.  And, I didn't even know it.  In fact, it is something I am constantly telling my students not to do, yet I didn't realize the whole time I was doing that very thing.  I expect too much of my reader.  Just like a lame girl does to her boyfriend, I expect my reader to read my mind.  I coyly tease with vague flowery pictures and deny them the details that lead to understanding. 

I say all this not to berate myself and my writing.  In fact, it's quite the opposite.  I'm pretty damn proud of myself as a writer to be able to take my friend's advice and run with it.  And, run I am.  In fact, it's got me wondering how many other things I am doing without my own knowledge.  Am I assuming too much of the people in my life too?  Yes.  In fact I can think of several examples, one of which lost me a friend. 

Here I go deleting the details again.  Long story short:  I had a friend; she made me upset; I didn't say anything about it until I flipped, couldn't take anymore, and went off.  She is no longer my friend.  I hide details from people until they are so lost as to what I am thinking, they don't really ever get to know me.  Maybe I'm not aware of doing it, but I am doing it on purpose. 

I'll use my wardrobe as an example here.  I prefer funky, colorful, retro or punk or Mexican clothing.  But you would never see me wear such items to work.  Yes, yes I have to maintain a professional appearance, but do I have to wear only solid colors?  Do I have to wear only Gap and Old Navy?  Who am I dressing for anyways?  And there it is- my penchant for blending into, not just the walls, but what people want to see.  I am deliberately ambiguous so that what you want to see is what comes through.  I say just enough to manage, but not enough to speak.  I play the quiet shy person, but is that really who I am?  Or am I just doing it to protect myself from judgment? 

Sometimes I ask myself what would happen if I were just honest?  Would the world end?  Would my family hate me?  Would my friends all desert me?  Then I think of Lorelai Gilmore.  Perhaps a lame example, but an appropriate one.  She never shuts her mouth.  If she disagrees with her mother, she says it.  She's not afraid.  If someone gets mad at her, she shrugs and moves on.  If she's upset with her friends, she fights with them.  God, I can't tell you the freedom I would feel to be able to fight with someone other than my husband and be confident that they'd forgive me.  Or that I'd forgive myself. 

Ok, let's just go there.  Could it be I am being ambiguous to hide from myself?  I am the one who remembers wrongs I committed when I was 6 years old and still cringes over them.  I am the one afraid to open my notebook for fear I might not have anything to say.  So maybe that's why I stay quiet.  To prove to myself that I am right.  I have nothing to say.  I am who the nearest person wants to see.  I am a reflection.

Chasing truth...

I've been thinking about truth a lot lately.  After writing my recent post about 9/11 I just keep going back over the events of that day in my head trying to figure out what goes through one's head when he is just about to die.  I want to know.  And, what happened to them the next instant after they died?  I want to know.  Truth is the proverbial carrot we keep trying to reach.  We may get close but we will never know the taste of it. 

So, why this curiosity?  Is it that we as humans are just full enough of ourselves to believe that we could understand, or even fathom, the larger truths of the world?  Probably.  Is it that we feel completely out of control and if only we knew what we were in for we would feel slightly more powerful?  Most likely.  Or is it just the human condition?

I read an interesting passage today in an SAT prep book.  It said that humans are the only animals who laugh and cry.  Why?  Because we are the only ones capable of having expectations and then comparing them to reality.  We laugh when something "ridiculous" happens.  The only reason it is ridiculous is because it is not what we expect.  We cry when something sad or happy happens, because again, we didn't expect it.  Even if it is the death of someone who has been sick for a long time, we never expect to live our lives without that person.  So it seems that we are not so good at recognizing truth.  In fact, we spend most of our time creating falsehoods that parade themselves as the truth.  We convince ourselves that this shouldn't happen, or that that person shouldn't be that way.  But that is not the truth.

Truth has two sides.  One, it's terrifying, because it is only revealed in the moment and we don't trust that we can adapt that quickly.  Two, it's amazing.  Just the fact that it is so elusive makes it mysterious.  And, mystery breeds awe.  This is why I am drawn to death, the depths of the ocean, and the minds of people.  They represent some of the larger unknowns of the world that will always remain in the dark to me.  And, because of that simple fact I am in awe of them.  I hold a certain respect for them, but something about them also brings about in me an appreciation of life.

I will never know some truths.  But the truth is that life would be boring if I knew everything. 

No wonder animals can just sleep all day.  They are relaxed.  They're not constantly stressing themselves out creating false truths that ultimately contradict reality, resulting in the inevitable unhappiness, and then finding someone to blame for it.  Whew.  That's a lot of work we've cut out for ourselves.