Kuato told Quaid to "Open your mind" and it makes sense because most often that sort of thing is required in order to not only accept the truth, but even see it in the first place. A lot of people say "I'll believe it when I see it", but it's actually just the opposite. You'll see it when you believe it. Everyone has heard the stories about how the natives couldn't see the incoming ships 500 years ago because up until that point they had no idea such a thing could exist. Well the same is true today, although maybe not as overt as not being able to comprehend that there is a clipper ship headed for the shore. Instead there are probably ideas that people cannot see because they simply do not believe in them. It even happens in smaller instances where you realize something for the first time and you wonder how you never knew that before. And it wasn't like you discovered something mysterious or even new, but it had escaped your perception up until that point. The mind often sees what it wants to see.
I wonder if OCD and PTSD are essentially the same thing. It's really the mind's way of not being able to let go of something. In some strange way it's actually attempting to protect the brain from harm. The problem with both is that a person is essentially locked into a thought pattern that prevents them from moving forward. Those are just two of the more apparent instances of the mind being unable to process something and instead just falls back into a "comfort zone". I've seen people dwell on things well beyond the point of reason. I always ask why they can't simply let it go and move on? When you're outside of the situation it's always easier said than done.
Still think about how you think. Do you worry excessively about something? Do you get angry about little things? Do things have to be a certain way or you're just not happy? Those types of thoughts aren't always bad or wrong, but a person has to ask themselves if that kind of thinking helps. Does it help to worry about something or in some strange way is it just comfortable to worry about it because that's what you've always done? It may not feel comfortable in the traditional sense, but you may have been doing it for so long that it's second nature to immediately see a problem and just start worrying about it. Why not let go of it?
Believe me I'm not saying changing this type of thought process is easy and it may not even be possible without some outside help, be it therapy or prescription medication. You have to first be aware of it before you can do anything about it. Most people (myself included) have probably said "That's just how I am" or "I've always thought that way". That's coming very close to a cop out. It's essentially implying that you are incapable of change. It's more likely that you aren't so much incapable of change as you are unwilling to change. They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but that's just not true. The only thing stopping you from different behavior is your belief that you can't change. Well that and a lifetime of neural pathways being hard wired in such a way that you'll be undergoing actual physical changes within your brain. It comes down to believing that you control your thoughts and it's not all just chemical secretions dictating your every action. Your mind is one of the most complex things we've ever known and we're just beginning to grasp the idea that our thoughts have power, not just over ourselves, but with the external world.
I have this thing where it seems like the opposite of what I think is the most likely to happen. Example: It's been awhile since I've gotten into an argument with a friend. Or I never feel lonely these days. For some reason thoughts like that tend to come just before problems. I'm not exactly sure if A) it's a type of early warning system my brain has somehow managed to come up with. Man it's been awhile since I've been in a fight with a friend. Alarm! You will be entering into a fight in the very near future. Or B) if having those thoughts causes me to focus on it and in a sense create my own reality. It's like driving down the road and all you can think about is how much you don't want to drive into a sign post. Even though you're telling yourself that you don't want to do it, your mind is fixated on it and there's a good chance that you will create the very situation you were hoping to avoid.
It could be written off as coincidence. What was going to happen was already set in motion whether you thought about it or not. It's been proven in science that observing something alters its behavior. The definition of observation could be interpreted in a number of ways, which could go beyond just visually inspecting something. It could also include mentally focusing on it. If that's the case then even thinking about a situation could potentially alter its outcome. Imagine what reality would be like if we understood just how powerful our minds are and were able to control our thoughts in a way that we create the world around us. Think about that.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
On Driving
I'm a few days away from a long road trip and it's got me thinking about the cars along the way. We have created a mechanical herd. Instead of following some invisible magnetic markers like birds, we travel along hard paths with painted lines. We follow the directions of ever changing flashing lights, even at times when it seems like their instructions are arbitrary. I wonder if animals watch us and wonder why we move along roads. It must be like when house pets watch us as we watch TV or work on the computer. Why are they just staring at that box? Maybe it's as mysterious to them as migratory patterns of birds or fish are to us.
When I was a kid I thought driving would be so wonderful and if you think about it, it's actually kind of incredible what we take for granted. By pressing a pedal and turning a wheel any idiot can travel at break-neck speeds to their favorite destination. When it was time to go and get my driver's license I was so nervous. I had practiced for weeks doing various maneuvers in the high school parking lot. Looking back I find it amusing that I thought it was such a big deal. Spend five minutes driving around and you have to ask yourself how 90% of the people on the road ever got their licenses in the first place.
While I don't consider myself to be the most courteous person, I do tend to be constantly aware of other drivers around me and don't go out of my way to make their drive time anymore of a hassle than it needs to be. It seems that kind of mentality is more the exception rather than the rule. There is this ever-present sense that people feel the need to only watch out for themselves and if someone else gets cut off then that's just too bad. If you've ever witnessed the boarding of trains in India you might get an idea of what I'm talking about. There are simply too many people for anyone to be courteous. If you let someone else ahead of you, there is a good chance you won't get on. That's not to say Indian people are by nature rude, just that they do what is necessary. Here in America there are just so many people on the road and everyone feels they are the most important car out there (and in their world I guess that's probably true) so it becomes reflected in their driving.
I mentioned before that traffic is like a mechanical herd. It's a living thing, even though it's made up of machines. The cars themselves aren't alive, but their operators are. How many times have you been driving on the highway when everything comes to a grinding halt. You're sitting there and it's just an endless river of cars in front of you and it's backing up behind you. You're wondering what could be the problem. Why are things at a standstill? It could be a wreck. In fact in my frustration in those situations I've expected there to a head in the road. That's the only excuse I was willing to accept. When the traffic clears you know what it turns out to be most of the time? Nothing. The event, whatever it was, has passed. You've been experiencing the vehicular equivalent of an aftershock. After what seems like forever (which usually turns out to be minutes) you drive by and see it was a car on the side of the road or even worse, a car on the opposite side of the road, meaning people on your side allowed themselves to be slowed by something that wasn't even in their direct path of forward movement.
When I was being taught to drive my dad told me that I not only had to drive my car, but I had to drive the cars around me. At the time I thought it was a funny thing to say and probably made a smart ass comment about it. And yes, I'm not actually driving the cars around me (if I were we'd all be going a lot faster and using our signals to indicate lane changes), but instead I'm spending a significant amount of my awareness on what everyone else is doing. A trained monkey can operate a car, provided they can reach the gas pedal. In itself it's not that difficult. Now you put 12 monkeys into cars and put them on roads together and you'll probably end up with a demolition derby. Some of the people driving today are probably worse than those crazy chimps. Which brings up the question, why aren't people required to retake their driving test every five years? I'm not just talking about making sure you understand that a flashing red light at an intersection should be treated like a four-way stop. Taking a full on driving exam and road test would ensure that people are always keeping their driving skills up to date. A driver's license should be like a heavy equipment operator's license, it must be updated at regular intervals with more than just an eye exam and address change.
Lately there has been a lot of talk about talking or texting on a mobile phone while driving. According to some sources it reduces the reaction time of a driver to that of a 70 year old. Unless that 70 year old is Harrison Ford, I'm betting it means you're going to be too slow to do much of anything except say "oh shit!" While I agree that texting and driving is probably a recipe for a collision (don't say accident because that implies no one was at fault), I wonder if there isn't a more overall problem with attention spans. People can barely focus on one thing at a time anymore. Everything has to do more than one thing. A phone doesn't just make phone calls. It's a music player. It checks your email. You can get instant messages. You can update Twitter the second something (in)significant happens in your life. Cars aren't just equipped with radios anymore. Now you have multi-disc CD changes or MP3 players. And to entertain those kids, some even have TVs built-in. So a minivan is starting to look a lot more like your living room rather than just a means to get from Point A to Point B. This level of comfort tends to make people forget that they are in fact not in their living room. Driving becomes the second most important thing while on the road. The moment that becomes the case it's an eventuality that something bad is going to happen. There is a saying when it comes to NASCAR: "A crash isn't something that could happen during a race. It's something that will happen given enough time." Someone driving and not fully focused on controlling the vehicle will crash. It's just a question of when. Think about that the next time you're driving. Maybe if everyone did that we'd at least see it coming.
When I was a kid I thought driving would be so wonderful and if you think about it, it's actually kind of incredible what we take for granted. By pressing a pedal and turning a wheel any idiot can travel at break-neck speeds to their favorite destination. When it was time to go and get my driver's license I was so nervous. I had practiced for weeks doing various maneuvers in the high school parking lot. Looking back I find it amusing that I thought it was such a big deal. Spend five minutes driving around and you have to ask yourself how 90% of the people on the road ever got their licenses in the first place.
While I don't consider myself to be the most courteous person, I do tend to be constantly aware of other drivers around me and don't go out of my way to make their drive time anymore of a hassle than it needs to be. It seems that kind of mentality is more the exception rather than the rule. There is this ever-present sense that people feel the need to only watch out for themselves and if someone else gets cut off then that's just too bad. If you've ever witnessed the boarding of trains in India you might get an idea of what I'm talking about. There are simply too many people for anyone to be courteous. If you let someone else ahead of you, there is a good chance you won't get on. That's not to say Indian people are by nature rude, just that they do what is necessary. Here in America there are just so many people on the road and everyone feels they are the most important car out there (and in their world I guess that's probably true) so it becomes reflected in their driving.
I mentioned before that traffic is like a mechanical herd. It's a living thing, even though it's made up of machines. The cars themselves aren't alive, but their operators are. How many times have you been driving on the highway when everything comes to a grinding halt. You're sitting there and it's just an endless river of cars in front of you and it's backing up behind you. You're wondering what could be the problem. Why are things at a standstill? It could be a wreck. In fact in my frustration in those situations I've expected there to a head in the road. That's the only excuse I was willing to accept. When the traffic clears you know what it turns out to be most of the time? Nothing. The event, whatever it was, has passed. You've been experiencing the vehicular equivalent of an aftershock. After what seems like forever (which usually turns out to be minutes) you drive by and see it was a car on the side of the road or even worse, a car on the opposite side of the road, meaning people on your side allowed themselves to be slowed by something that wasn't even in their direct path of forward movement.
When I was being taught to drive my dad told me that I not only had to drive my car, but I had to drive the cars around me. At the time I thought it was a funny thing to say and probably made a smart ass comment about it. And yes, I'm not actually driving the cars around me (if I were we'd all be going a lot faster and using our signals to indicate lane changes), but instead I'm spending a significant amount of my awareness on what everyone else is doing. A trained monkey can operate a car, provided they can reach the gas pedal. In itself it's not that difficult. Now you put 12 monkeys into cars and put them on roads together and you'll probably end up with a demolition derby. Some of the people driving today are probably worse than those crazy chimps. Which brings up the question, why aren't people required to retake their driving test every five years? I'm not just talking about making sure you understand that a flashing red light at an intersection should be treated like a four-way stop. Taking a full on driving exam and road test would ensure that people are always keeping their driving skills up to date. A driver's license should be like a heavy equipment operator's license, it must be updated at regular intervals with more than just an eye exam and address change.
Lately there has been a lot of talk about talking or texting on a mobile phone while driving. According to some sources it reduces the reaction time of a driver to that of a 70 year old. Unless that 70 year old is Harrison Ford, I'm betting it means you're going to be too slow to do much of anything except say "oh shit!" While I agree that texting and driving is probably a recipe for a collision (don't say accident because that implies no one was at fault), I wonder if there isn't a more overall problem with attention spans. People can barely focus on one thing at a time anymore. Everything has to do more than one thing. A phone doesn't just make phone calls. It's a music player. It checks your email. You can get instant messages. You can update Twitter the second something (in)significant happens in your life. Cars aren't just equipped with radios anymore. Now you have multi-disc CD changes or MP3 players. And to entertain those kids, some even have TVs built-in. So a minivan is starting to look a lot more like your living room rather than just a means to get from Point A to Point B. This level of comfort tends to make people forget that they are in fact not in their living room. Driving becomes the second most important thing while on the road. The moment that becomes the case it's an eventuality that something bad is going to happen. There is a saying when it comes to NASCAR: "A crash isn't something that could happen during a race. It's something that will happen given enough time." Someone driving and not fully focused on controlling the vehicle will crash. It's just a question of when. Think about that the next time you're driving. Maybe if everyone did that we'd at least see it coming.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
On Moving
When I was 18 I moved across the country to go to college. At the time my life was contained in four big boxes. They held pretty much everything I owned and for the life of me I can't remember what was in them. I am fairly certain that some of the things inside are still with me all these years later. They say home is where the heart is, but more often than not it's where we keep our stuff.
It's a strange thing to move, although really not all that uncommon. You get a chance to look through all your possessions and decide what comes with you to the new place (or back to the old place depending on your circumstances). For me it's always been a great way to shed a lot of material weight. Maybe it's hold over from that first big move where I only had the four boxes so I tend to travel light. Moving forces you to evaluate the importance of everything you own. Now you may have money. You may have hired movers. You may have nothing but time to plan and prepare. In that case maybe you don't really have to evaluate anything and instead decide to take everything, including the ice cube trays from the freezer. I tend to treat it like a backpacking trip somewhere. How much of that stuff do you really want to be carrying around with you?
It was said in Fight Club "The things you own end up owning you." You can't just move across the country at the drop of a hat because your couch needs a lift. That fantastic entertainment center has to be broken down and carried in pieces down the stairs. Once upon a time I was given a Foreman Grill. At the time I thought that I didn't need it and would never use it. For months it sat in a cabinet, where I had almost forgotten about it. Then for some reason I decided to use it. Once I did I asked myself how I ever got by without it. I wonder how often that happens. We're suddenly convinced of a need we didn't know we had until it was presented to us. How much of the things we own are around because we've come to believe that we couldn't live life without them? Now I'm not against owning stuff. I like stuff. Everything feels so temporary though. When I go furniture shopping (once a decade) I look at things in terms of not only form and function, but in mobility. Sure that bookshelf/CD rack combo is nice and will hold 500 of my favorite titles, but it's made out of the densest material known to man (pressed particle board) and will take at least three people with hand carts to move it. Then again owning furniture that's exclusively made from wicker is a little too far on the other side.
Back when I was 18 I had only lived one place, so moving anywhere was new and unknown. I know a lot of people who have never left their hometown and there's nothing wrong with that. Moving to some far off place that you've never been before isn't easy, especially if you're doing it on your own. In fact I've only ever done it twice. Since then I've been doing the cross country shuffle back and forth between two primary locations. I wonder though if location is like possessions, it owns you. Most people have a life, or what passes for a life, in their town. Friends, family, work, school, obligations, hobbies, and whatever else makes up a life. Moving means that those things are either going to be severed or at the very least drastically altered. If you relocate to another state or city you have to start the process of reestablishing all those connections. A cynical person would see it as starting the process all over again.
Given the way things are going I wonder if there won't start a trend of people being a bit more nomadic. It used to be a person would live in a single town and possibly work at a single company their entire life. That doesn't seem to be the case anymore. Sometimes in order to live a person has to pick up and move away because essentially they're following the food supply. It used to be the buffalo. Now it's the job market. Maybe home isn't a singular location anymore.
It's a strange thing to move, although really not all that uncommon. You get a chance to look through all your possessions and decide what comes with you to the new place (or back to the old place depending on your circumstances). For me it's always been a great way to shed a lot of material weight. Maybe it's hold over from that first big move where I only had the four boxes so I tend to travel light. Moving forces you to evaluate the importance of everything you own. Now you may have money. You may have hired movers. You may have nothing but time to plan and prepare. In that case maybe you don't really have to evaluate anything and instead decide to take everything, including the ice cube trays from the freezer. I tend to treat it like a backpacking trip somewhere. How much of that stuff do you really want to be carrying around with you?
It was said in Fight Club "The things you own end up owning you." You can't just move across the country at the drop of a hat because your couch needs a lift. That fantastic entertainment center has to be broken down and carried in pieces down the stairs. Once upon a time I was given a Foreman Grill. At the time I thought that I didn't need it and would never use it. For months it sat in a cabinet, where I had almost forgotten about it. Then for some reason I decided to use it. Once I did I asked myself how I ever got by without it. I wonder how often that happens. We're suddenly convinced of a need we didn't know we had until it was presented to us. How much of the things we own are around because we've come to believe that we couldn't live life without them? Now I'm not against owning stuff. I like stuff. Everything feels so temporary though. When I go furniture shopping (once a decade) I look at things in terms of not only form and function, but in mobility. Sure that bookshelf/CD rack combo is nice and will hold 500 of my favorite titles, but it's made out of the densest material known to man (pressed particle board) and will take at least three people with hand carts to move it. Then again owning furniture that's exclusively made from wicker is a little too far on the other side.
Back when I was 18 I had only lived one place, so moving anywhere was new and unknown. I know a lot of people who have never left their hometown and there's nothing wrong with that. Moving to some far off place that you've never been before isn't easy, especially if you're doing it on your own. In fact I've only ever done it twice. Since then I've been doing the cross country shuffle back and forth between two primary locations. I wonder though if location is like possessions, it owns you. Most people have a life, or what passes for a life, in their town. Friends, family, work, school, obligations, hobbies, and whatever else makes up a life. Moving means that those things are either going to be severed or at the very least drastically altered. If you relocate to another state or city you have to start the process of reestablishing all those connections. A cynical person would see it as starting the process all over again.
Given the way things are going I wonder if there won't start a trend of people being a bit more nomadic. It used to be a person would live in a single town and possibly work at a single company their entire life. That doesn't seem to be the case anymore. Sometimes in order to live a person has to pick up and move away because essentially they're following the food supply. It used to be the buffalo. Now it's the job market. Maybe home isn't a singular location anymore.
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