If you don't use it, you lose it.

Whenever I'm at a shopping center or even walking along the streets, I pass the shops of various mobile services and shudder.  I can't stand the mobile industry, and I don't even really know why.

Now, since I'm working in another part of the city and commuting often, I talked it over with Caspian and reluctantly agreed that it's probably safer for me to finally get a cell phone, which I've avoided for about 2.5 years (before which I had many, but also before the popularity explosion of data plans and smartphones).

This morning after a deliciously challenging yoga class and a relaxing lunch with our friends, Caspian and I headed over to the Eaton Center to finally make a decision about that little plastic and metal box that most people stare into more often than the eyes of their loved ones...  The dreaded mobile phone.

Errrgh, I hate them!  Hate, hate, hate!  Despise!  I actually judge people quite negatively if I see a top rate, leather-coddled smart phone or tablet resting conspicuously upon one's workspace (and mobile phones aren't even allowed in my office, given the confidential nature of the industry - you actually have to walk off the premises to take a call or send a text message, and phones need to be in pockets or purses at all times).  People gaze at their phones like lovers, they caress them ostentatiously in all settings, and it seems so obscene to me.  To see a 10-year-old with a mobile phone is, in my opinion, parental blasphemy.  There has to be a way for us to live happily without them, there just has to be.

Even the employees irk me.  I express interest in a simple model and ask questions about its durability and operating system, and they say, "Well, I'm not so familiar with that one, people generally aren't interested in it..."  Bingo!  Those are the magic words.

Steering clear of giant shimmering screens, the whole Blackberry nonsense and Mac products as well (I can be such an ex-post-hipster when it comes to tech)...  I picked out a little HTC, signed over my $35/monthly, declined a data plan, stuffed the little obsession in my coat pocket and went on my way, ignoring the soulless eyes of those drooling over the display cases.  Human nature is terrifying.  Does patience exist anymore (and this from the most impatient girl in the world, according to her parents)?  Are people capable of waiting quietly in doctors' offices without playing with bright and shiny little doodads?  Is everybody's catchphrase "entertain me"?

My lovely recycled leather agenda from years ago is still perused every day, refills are purchased each September.  My hand makes actual notes in it.  No alarms remind me of the myriads of things I have to do, because I've got a brain for that.

Soufflez.

Words to Live By

Do not let the behavior of others destroy your inner peace.
~ Dalai Lama

Sometimes I think that other people are the only things that can destroy my inner peace.  It's interesting...  Today in class, my classmates and I all gave little surveys to each other about different topics, and I was interviewed about my feelings regarding the merits of living in an urban or rural environment.

The conversation quickly strayed into the metaphysical because we differed completely; my classmate could not fathom any reason beyond "the scenery" to live in the countryside, and I couldn't find any advantages of living in a city beyond "attractions" and "les transports en commun."

It's such a confusing thing to be an extroverted loner!  On one hand, I thrive in the classroom environment and I adore teaching.  I like to talk to people, to see how they react, to imagine their lives...  And yet somehow I have invented this vague, sinister concept of "the people," the huge mass that adds endlessly to the omnipresent filth in the streets, those that scream obscenities at each other and mate in the back alleys, the ones that create the pop mags, produce TV emissions and write copy for advertising firms.  "The people" are the selfish ones, the corrupt ones, the ones that lurk inside of us all, just waiting to show themselves and take what they want.  I guess sometimes, in my most cynical moods, "the people" lurk just under the surface, and we just pretend to see the beauty of the stars and dream without fear or inhibition or a thought to the bottom line, or like to visit la musée des beaux-arts.  We do it just to try to fool others into thinking we're not like them, or that we are exactly like how they pretend to be.

It's why I don't like cities.  People are so often just walking facades, strangers composed entirely of judgment or indifference.  That's what we are when we are anonymous, what we all are.

What I admire about Montreal is sometimes not at all what others hold in high esteem.  People say, oh, it's so cosmopolitan!  So intimate, yet so diverse!  So libidinous!  A truly North American city, so littered with historical significance and fascinating interactions!

No.  I marvel at the huge roots of the oaks that part the cracks in the sidewalks, the rainbows in the pigeons' wings.  The places where I am reminded that life is not about people people people people.  The opaline clouds above the low mountains on the horizon above the seagulls above the hundred steeples as I gaze east northeast from the 13th floor of 688 rue Sherbrooke.  I want to be reminded that it would all get taken back, if we all disappeared, that soon it would subside into the earth to sleep, dreaming its violent dreams to itself.  I put my hands on centuries-old stonework and imagine its birth, the first rays of sunlight peeping deep into the quarry where it had lain for a billion years as those rough hands pulled it from its mother, and it became witness to three hundred years of humans walking and eating and laughing and changing and dying and being born.

Where are the monks?  Are there none among us here?  Are we all so cynical?  Where can I find the quietude amidst "the people" where there isn't suffering or cold or fear?

Amish Ponderings

For the thesis for one of my bachelor's degrees, I did qualitative and quantitative studies on messages in Amish publications.  If you know me well, you will also know that I have been utterly and completely fascinated with the Amish since I was very young, for some deep and disturbing reasons.  You will also know that I was raised Catholic and attended a private Catholic high school.  I am familiar with the bible and advanced Christian tenets and have actively rejected the style of Catholicism upheld by the Pope and clergy as ethically corrupt (not to mention any version of Christianity less liberal than Episcopalian, which is toeing the line).  I rather prefer my mother's inclusive, all-loving brand myself.

That being said, I've been rereading all of the fascinating textbooks, studies and books of memoirs that I've collected over the years on Amish culture, religion and practices.  I've finally put my finger on what disturbs and attracts me so much about the Amish, and why I keep coming back to this particular group to study and mull over.

Before I keep going, if you haven't heard of this before, here are Kohlberg's Stages of Ethical Development.

I don't hesitate to reject social norms and laws, to discard religion and to be completely unafraid of threats of societal or spiritual punishment if any of their bases violate my internal principles of human equality.  This puts me somewhere around Stage 5/6.  Most people spend their lives around Stage 4, but some never progress beyond Stage 2.  Based on my experience, most religion holds adherents at 4, through fear and promises.  Any belief system that uses fear as a tool to control fundamentally opposes my internal principles of love, acceptance, equality and freedom.  Fear is worse than pain, worse than physical suffering.  Any "god" whose teachings can in any way place any creature's essence (a soul, which I firmly believe in) into a state of eternal suffering is a false god, a crass, base social tool created by humanity to keep people fixed in lower stages of ethical development in line with the rest of society.  Unfortunately, it also gives these people the same tool, with which, if they gain societal power, they can use to overpower others.

The root of Amish life can be found in the word Gelassenheit, which means, more or less, submission.  They submit to god, to each other, to all things that their society deems "worldly."  Conflicts are "solved" through avoidance.  Instead of focusing on individual fulfillment, fulfillment comes through the community after the abandonment of self and of the outside world.  Their governing systems are both authoritarian and decentralized, to react swiftly at a local level.  They believe that their way of submission/rejection of societal values like boldness, individualism and personal development is much more difficult than any other way of life, that it is a sacrifice.

Unfortunately, individuals aren't given a choice.  They are kept in ignorance of the machinations of their society and follow/submit blindly, or risk being shunned in all ways; familial, spiritual, societal.  They don't have the education or experience to easily adapt to the outside world, another massive control tool exploited by this way of life.  The result is a kind, gentle, generous, quiet, simple, community-focused group...  Stuck at stage 3, forbidden to express individual will or a desire to personally effect any changes upon the world.

But a sacrifice?  Can one sacrifice without understanding what they are sacrificing?  Can one be forced to sacrifice without pondering deeply and reflexively of the ramifications of such?  It's easy to "submit" to the rules and norms of one's society/religion.  It's the easiest thing we can do, because to fight the pressure means to fight society itself...  And our society's definition of god.

I feel that it is much more difficult, painful and beautiful to take it all in, to have complete freedom and unbridled access to knowledge, to explore, to lose and find oneself again and again, and then discover deep, personal reasons to personally embrace principles of love, community, simplicity and nonviolence.  Claw your way from your box, be hurt, be rejected.  Then, embrace a fresh perspective and know instead of follow.  We are intelligent, active beings infinitely capable of love, pleasure and joy.  Is there a reason to limit our personal growth, to stunt our capacities for these lovely things?

Yes.  Unfortunately, the majority of people don't have the fortitude, the reflexive natures or the will to explore, learn, understand and then reject for the good of all.

Be Yourself

My sister sent me this CNN article, titled Aging stylishly, online and in the streets.  I love it.  Don't be fooled - it's not about style, but about being yourself.  Style may have its place, or it may not - depending on the person, but it is true that one always expresses something about oneself through one's appearance, with or without meaning to.

The article caused me to think back on my own personal style and wonder what's going on:  Do I let society define my conceptualization of what is stylish, or do I define it myself?  Previously, the former...  But I am going to change that.

When I was a little girl and as soon as I had any say in how I dressed, I shamelessly and proudly called myself "tacky."  Paisley stirrup pants with a bright pink shirt encircled by shirred anemone-like flounces?  With brown leather ankle boots and wooden earrings painted raucous colors in the stylized shapes of cats with dangling arms and legs?  Don't forget the spiky side half-ponytail.  That was me.  Mom's size 5.5 clogs from the 70s plus green tights and a pink plaid wool pleated skirt?  Yes please.  I remember vividly my mom saying (hopefully?) to me,"You're going to change when you get older, you know."  Innocently, I replied, "Nope, I'll always be tacky."  And then expressed interest in buying a blue metallic Christmas tree strung with colored lights.  She rolled her eyes.

After being teased relentlessly in middle school for my flippant, hyper ways, insane outfits, lack of boobs and unusual choices in friends, I realized that it just wouldn't fly anymore.  Something had to be done.  I caved.  I chopped my hair off boy-short and embraced piercings, the color black and gothy/outcast buddies.  Except I didn't do it stylishly.  I couldn't really care less about style.  I mixed retro with euro in the same outfit with high-water cargo pants and shiny Born clogs.  I imagine it looked terrible.  In this way, I was actually more true to myself at this age than later.

By the end of high school, my sunny personality reasserted itself and I found myself with a nice figure, a small waist and big boobs, which I'd never expected.  I didn't really know what to do with any of it.  I dressed in expensive but blasé outfits from GAP, nothing super tight, nothing super bright.  I kind of did this throughout college, looking cute and nice, but that's it.  I went through a horrible overalls stage.  Learn from my mistakes and avoid them at all costs.

And then, it started with the boyfriends.  Bluh, boyfriends, completely overrated.  My first serious boyfriend (and I mean serious; the relationship was maybe 5 or 6 years long) didn't really think about my clothes or express any opinions, so I stuck with what I knew.  Bootcut jeans, boring-cute shoes and light pink or blue tops, all with the same v-neck, all through two bachelor's degrees.

The next serious boyfriend...  Was quite controlling, aesthetically.  Not outright, but with subtle hints and vague, insidious expressions of disapproval.  And plenty of pressure.  I came to realize that I was a hottie in sheep's clothing. How did I let this happen?  My makeup wasn't right, my clothes weren't slutty enough.  Why wasn't I showing off these shapely legs and gorgeous curves?  I was meant to be seen and heard, to be paraded in public like some prize cow.  Suddenly, I had to acquire flashy earrings.  I had to tan at the salon a couple times a week (really regretting that).  Shoes?  Black and high-heeled patent.  In the back of my mind, some part of me rebelled.  I mean, sure, dressing/acting like that is fun...  When I want to dress/act like that. If somebody else is wanting me to dress like that, I'm always second-guessing myself.  Being meek, wondering if I made pleasing choices.  It was wrong.  There was no me in those clothes.  I wish I had been stronger, more mature.

The next serious boyfriend would become my husband.  He finds me beautiful and compelling in old pajamas, devoid of make-up, with bedhead and old mascara and coffee breath, not just in the sheath dresses, knee-boots and elegant coif.  I can dance a sexy rumba or the funky chicken, and he's kind of equally attracted to both.  It took me awhile to realize that, years even.  And now I realize that while it's nice to be accepted, it doesn't matter!

Now it's time to dig out those raucous, painted wood cat earrings and wear them with a demure wool top, sparkly nail polish and beaded moccasins.  It's time to throw away that shitty, flashy jewelry I hated and buy pieces that I feel drawn to for my own reasons.  Let's wear silver and gold together on the same hand.  Let's get a floral tattoo that covers most of the upper back.  Natural eyes in the morning, heavy liner in the evening with emerald-green shadow!  Classy boots and bright red dresses and push-up bras!  Sometimes, brown and blue and flowing and shy.  Why the hell not?  In Montréal, no matter how far you go, there will always be somebody who passes you on the street looking 10x more outrageous.  Sometimes it's nice to just not care, too.

So, this article really appealed to me, because finally, I feel comfortable and confident enough to be myself, even if I don't exactly have the funds at the moment. I really like Ilona Royce-Smithkin's (age 92) quote:

"Young people are too quickly in older life, they have no childhood. It's like speeding up strawberries to grow," she said. "They look great, but there's no taste."

To Be, Or Not to Be Part 1

I'm at the halfway mark of the controversial book No Kids, written by a French mother of three, loaned to me by a fellow childfree (I kind of like this term, amidst all of the "parentally correctness"* bandied about in North America and Europe right now) married friend and classmate.
*Corinne Maier

The author, Corinne Maier, introduces 40 reasons not to have children with wordy wit, unmitigated vitriol and an overly bipolar view of the universe...  After all, she wrote the book in such a way that it would incite the most emotional reaction - either total agreement and satisfied self-righteousness for the childfree, or complete disdain and fury, on the parts of parents or would-be parents.  The book is an hilarious read if you refuse to fall prey to her juicy, tempting bait.  In the middle of all this acerbic sarcasm and anti-State paranoia, she did manage to air some concerns and "foods for thought" regarding parenthood that are at the crux of my natural, lifelong disinclination to be a mother.

"Every child born to a developed country is an ecological disaster for the entire planet." pg. 2 

"'The child's innocence is vested in the weakness of its limbs, not its will.' (Saint Augustine)  Children are like dogs; if they were two or three times bigger, they would be vicious beasts, your own worst enemies." pg. 45

"Consumption is the foundation of parenthood.  In the land of merchandise, the child is in its element.  It's great for capitalism, always more things, always more crap that you can't recycle, interchangeable junk soon forgotten and endlessly replaceable.  As long as there are kids, the absurd world we live in has a future." pg. 54  

"Having a child is the best possible way to avoid asking what the meaning of life is, as everything revolves around that child, who is a marvellous substitute for the existential quest.  The philosopher Alexandre Kojève said 'the animal defines itself by exhausting its existential possibilities in procreation.'" pgs. 82 - 83

When I was a young girl, when the subject of my future motherhood came up, I would respond with a truthful "I don't like kids."  Later, à la socialization, I realized that this was too truthful in the midst of a self-absorbed, viral society obsessed with fertility, and thus I modified my response to a more acceptably self-deprecatory "I'm too selfish to have children."  This, too, is untrue.  Apart from infrequent hormonal urgings, I am simply not interested in children, in procreation, in the parental lifestyle.  Thus far, the thought of motherhood holds no allure, no whispers of primal joy, no celestial connection with the divine; only the promise of attention and social reinforcement.  On the rational side, why should I sacrifice so much of myself and all I have striven to become (and after I have just begun to love and cherish who I am!) to introduce another terrifyingly selfish being into a terrifyingly selfish, human world?

A study conducted by the University of Oregon (quoted by Oregon Live) indicates:

"In the United States, the carbon legacy and greenhouse gas impact of an extra child is almost 20 times more important than some of the other environmentally sensitive practices people might employ their entire lives - things like driving a high mileage car, recycling, or using energy-efficient appliances and light bulbs. The research also makes it clear that potential carbon impacts vary dramatically across countries. The average long-term carbon impact of a child born in the U.S. - along with all of its descendants - is more than 160 times the impact of a child born in Bangladesh. 

Under current conditions in the U.S., for instance, each child ultimately adds about 9,441 metric tons of carbon dioxide to the carbon legacy of an average parent - about 5.7 times the lifetime emissions for which, on average, a person is responsible." 

This is reprehensible.  And I feel that it is part of my duty, as a conservationist, to prevent it as best as I can and in a way that comes naturally to me and my spouse.  Do we add anything, or do we just take away?  Is our human definition of "adding value" taking away from the health of the planet?  We see this phenomenon in our children, who take and take and take...  And then resent us for not being better parents.  I did it to my own parents, and I consider myself to be blessed with intelligence and beauty, an excellent education and veritable showers of love, acceptance and support from all directions.

Now, I ask myself if I would even recognize a true desire for children after three decades of disinterest, and if so, if it would be utterly selfish to indulge it when there are so many unwanted, uncared-for babies in the world who need [a] financially-secure, free and established parent[s].  Isn't it a much better situation (in terms of psychology, spirituality, lifestyle, economics, ecology, ethics, you name it) to take into one's household one of the planet's millions of neglected souls, without sacrificing or risking one's body, one's spousal relationship and one's youth, and after waiting until one had experienced a fulfilling and lucrative career?

As I continue to uphold, support and underscore this choice not to become a parent, I willingly accept all responsibility for any hormonal pangs of regret that I may or may not experience in my future, and everybody insists that I will feel them.  We will see what happens.  I really like Maier's assertion that having a child is not a right...  It's simply a possibility.

The concept of fertility is no longer needed, it should not be revered anymore, from a rational and ecological standpoint.  Back when humanity was threatened, survival was not guaranteed and we needed new humans to defend ourselves from rival groups, yes, it was necessary for the future of our species.  We're in the opposite situation now - we live too long, we destroy so much, we have so little remaining to us, mediocrity thrives, there is no such thing as uniquity anymore.  And yet, we are obsessed with the sanctity of procreation!  Our gender roles, our taxation systems, our economies, our advertising, our governments - our very lives revolve around it - and it will destroy.  The world.  I hear it in the whispers in the breeze, I see it in the carbon footprints, I read it between the lines of the studies and the research projects...  We're pretty much doomed.

Babies have become a business, a frightening, empty business, a pie that The State wants to have its fingers in, and a socialized enslavement.  Parents, especially mothers, are slaves.  Despite the fact that attitude is everything - and if you are in control of your attitude, you are in control of your situation - I don't even care to deal with the trouble of trying to raise a child outside of this sprawling spiderweb of politics, social pressure, consumerism and marketing.  It's hard enough not to fall prey to The Endless Acquisition of Stuff myself.

Pulling Away

Things may be kind of sparse here for awhile...  Maybe forever, since I'm trying to focus more of my time and energy on journaling by hand.  Slower, less precise, but more real.

Right after we got married, I bought a 5-year journal, which I recently caught up to the present.  I can't believe I'm on the third row, the third year.  The French year...  School starts next Monday, placement test this Wednesday, January 11th.

Caspian, my husband, is slowly deleting his Facebook account, and is spending very little time available on Gchat, a big change.  He's deleting his friends (FB makes it pretty difficult to unfriend large groups of people) one by one and will soon have a skeleton profile referring people wishing to contact him to his e-mail address.  He spends almost all of his free time studying biology, physics, chemistry and French.  He hopes to apply to med school in two years.

I'm not sure I can let go of Facebook - I came pretty close over the holidays and was happier for it, but immediately resumed my addiction when I arrived at home.

Strong Enough?

It's been kind of awhile since I last wrote a real post.  I've been having an...  Interesting three weeks.  Has it really been three weeks?

First, I must confess that Skyward Sword has become an evening pastime more fun than anything else, for now.  I've played almost 30 hours of it and Caspian has been my cheerleader through temple and desert, forests and floating sky islands and boss fights that make me stand up and scream obscenities.  Wait.  I always stand up and scream obscenities during boss fights.  And when Link walks off cliffs, which seems to happen a lot with me...?

I have also been on a kind of spiritual journey.  Not sitting and asking questions or aimlessly wondering and wandering and moping like usual, but really focusing and exploring a lot of different ideas.  Focusing on the things I know I believe.  Focusing on making real changes in the way I view myself and life and happiness, and what actually matters to me, and...   How to make these changes, beginning with my own perceptions.

I have also come to the conclusion that Facebook, while sometimes fun, occasionally useful, always distracting and mostly arbitrary, is extremely harmful to society.  I really think so.  Why?

1) It's an extreme time-waster and detracts from our ever-dwindling abilities to be mindful rather than multitask.  The more books and articles I read about productiveness and time management, the more I want to move away from tabbed browsing and social media.  Not only do we cease to enjoy and focus on each task as it comes, but our minds become like little sparrows, flitting around from twig to twig, bush to bush, maybe even permanently unable to explore anything in depth.

2) We use social media to construct our own alternate realities.  It's not even real.  It's not even close to a real reflection of face-to-face interaction, or true experiences of the lives of others.  We construct our own profiles based on our notions of the perceptions of others, choosing to highlight and omit at will.

3)  Tied with point 2, we compare our real lives to the fictional lives of the Facebook Others.  They aren't even real people.  And comparison with unreality usually makes us unhappy, because there is no comparison.  Current advertising and media for women springs to mind to help illustrate this point.  In this case, reality and advertising become increasingly divergent as time passes.  How can any of us live up to feminine ideals, when the images we are supposed to emulate are the equivalents of cartoons or computer-generated characters?  Likewise, how can we expect to compare our true selves to the sketchy online facades of others?

4) Communication is becoming flatter.

If I were truly courageous, truly focused on the important things, I think I would delete my profile, reject society's little addictions and tend my true friends with care and mindfulness.  I'm not strong enough yet to do that.

I've also been working on my book, rewriting a couple chapters and getting back up to 50k words.  I estimate 6 chapters to go before I'm done.  Manasvi read what I have so far during her flight back home to northern Europe, and tickled me to death when she told me that she'd enjoyed it!  She had some great insights, too.

Lots and lots, hours of meditation and visualization exercises over these last few weeks.  I feel calm and serene for days after each session, until slowly my negative habits insinuate themselves again into my thoughts and actions and I have to sit down again to reflect and orient myself.

Lastly...  I am completely fed up with dance.  Completely.  We had a couple of good practices last week, before which I had to meditate to focus myself in order to not be completely negative about them.  Our coaches want us to compete, but I want to learn.  I want to learn new figures every week and not continue to use the same old choreo as the framework for increasingly advanced technique.  I mention this, and they say things like, "If you don't enjoy what you're dancing now, you're not going to enjoy any of the other figures."  That's not the point at all.  I want more diversity.  I'm just tired of our choreography, tired of the same old arguments and mistakes.

I don't even have the time or the money to compete.  I really don't!  Maybe after I finish my French degree, Caspian is in medical school and I have my dream job, I could consider getting serious about it.  Where will I find time to dance with 55 - 60 hour weeks of work and class?  Where will I find the money for lessons with tuition payments due every 2 months?

Next spring, I'm really going to grow that garden I've always wanted.  I'm going to take out all the shit in the backyard (old statues, patio furniture, weeds, leftover remodeling materials, etc.) and create a haven.  Find the earth again, because I've lost it.  I used to take it for granted, but now I live in the middle of a big city, and likely will for some time.  Years.

Rants and Dance

New law in Utah defines miscarriage as "criminal homicide," which would force women seeking abortions (not just abortion service facilities and doctors) to prove in court that their actions did not break laws and that they are not criminal murderers.  I was shocked when I read this.  Rant, rant, rant, Texas and Utah should secede and become their own horrid, backwards nation.  No, that would be bad.  They'd shoot anybody who accidentally stepped over their borders and probably start stoning women.  Good old U S of A.

In other news, I've been searching for dance studios in Montreal who teach international Latin and ballroom for the intermediate dancer - and I've found one that looks fabulous.  The instructors have impressive credentials and the studio is right next to the metro station.  Can we spare the not insignificant funds it would take for me to have two lessons a week?  I've discussed it with Caspian, and he knows how much I love dance.  We're going to take a look at our finances again and see what extra we may have, and where we can potentially save even more.  We've saved quite a bit moving up here, even with my career (and salary) change, and Caspian thinks we'll have more capital at our disposal than we expect.

After all, we barely eat out anymore and almost always cook healthy meals from simple, minimally-processed ingredients.  We don't have car payments, gas to purchase or car insurance to buy.  Our rent, while quite high, includes cable TV, hi-speed wireless internet, washer/dryer and cold water.  Trash and recycling are both free; at our old apartment, we had to pay about $25/mo for those services.  We live about three feet below ground, which keeps our apartment at a more even temperature.  When it was hot outside, it was cool inside, and now that it's cold outside, it stays warm inside.

I don't go shopping anymore, or buy pointless items for my amusement.  Almost every expense has a purpose, even if it's a pleasurable dessert together.  We discovered a traditional Quebec dessert last night, tarte au sucre.  Sugar pie.  I was dubious, and then I took a bite.

The filling is so bad - brown sugar, cream, butter and vanilla, cooked to almost caramelly perfection.  Caspian has eaten half of it in about 12 hours!

On Tuesday morning, I walked through the falling leaves and rain to a complimentary yoga lesson at a local studio.  I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't what I got!  The instructor, Paul, was one of the best I've ever had, with a deep, soothing voice and a talent for beautiful chanting.  I was challenged and refreshed and achieved, for the first time in ages, a particular mindfulness that comes with really applying oneself to yoga.  My whole body felt effervescent.

In Which I Am Feisty

I have a phone interview tomorrow morning.  It's for a part-time job, but one that might be completely awesome and personally beneficial.  More to come later about that!

In my humble opinion, Sarah Palin is a lout who appeals to louts.

Today, between job-hunting sessions and general housekeeping duties, I finished reading Charles Stross' The Family Trade.  I found it pretty entertaining, but there was something significantly off about it.  The heroine, a successful young woman, becomes assertive, and then aggressive, and then vulgar and finally completely unlike her original self.  At first, I sort of liked her, even if she was a little bit dry and difficult to know.  By the end, I sort of despised her and wondered where her true fire had gone, and why it had been replaced with a machine gun.  Her flagrant use of expletives and propensity to call other young women "baby" or "babe" just really effing irritated me!  Who does that?  Not only that, but it is almost embarrassingly obvious that the author is slinging around some technological jargon of which he only marginally understands the nuances.  I kid you not, the main character was described as having to replace the "hard disk" of a digital camera after storing 1000 pictures.  Memory card, mayhap, would have been the proper term.  The author was going for edgy, but ended up gauche, with a hint of kitsch.

Also, the main character goes, in a span of two weeks, from underpaid journalist content with her relationships and middle-class lifestyle, to a power economist, international relations theory expert, weapons master, poli sci guru and large-scale political manipulator.  She also ends up having an uncanny, even unlikely head for machination, and it rang false to this reader.

Wow, I ended up railing on that book.  Guess I hadn't really thought about how I truly felt about it before sitting down to write this post.

I am restarting Ian Irvine's The View from the Mirror series, and this time I'm going to finish it!  Locus had it right, though, in labeling the series "...a worldbuilding labor of love."  Sometimes I have to labor through the worldbuilding, which is completely unlike me, and saying something.  At least his characters act oddly on a consistent basis!

Take a Stand

Last night, I was on the elliptical for 60 minutes.  I turned my TV to Shark Week (because I happen to love sharks, but I love seals more and always cheer for them when they escape), and a CNN anchor was blathering on about Prop 8 on another screen.

I idly thought to myself, "It might be a good thing for me to publicly support gay marriage.  What can I do?"  Bumperstickers immediately popped into my mind.  There are probably tons out there, and I've seen pretty discrete ones.  I was all for it until...

What if somebody rear-ends my car?  What if one of my friends refuses to ride with me because they object to gay marriage?  What if somebody thinks I'm gay and tries to hurt me?  Would the gay community object to me supporting their cause, as a straight individual?  And then I was ashamed.  I was afraid of the persecution associated with taking a stand, as a heterosexual woman supporting gay marriage.  Coward!

What if I were gay.  It's just another position on the 3-dimensional continuum of natural human sexuality, but much of the world seems to make such a big deal out of it.  I'd have to face discrimination every day.

I can at least take a stand.

On the Side of Love

Here's some food for thought regarding parenthood, careers and cultural and policy-related changes needed to overcome rigid gender roles.  Another reason why I'd ideally like to live in Sweden before considering motherhood.  Like, for real.  The United States is so primitive compared to other western nations.

So, I just browsed through the final ruling on Proposition 8 (which, in sum, states that marriage is only recognized by the State of California if it is between a man and a woman), and I am amused and joyful.  The words of the proponents of Prop 8 are full of hate, ignorance, bigotry... and are just plain ludicrous.  Really, citing "the internet" as the most focused source of verifiable information?  To attempt that to support an argument in a high school class would be laughable.

The proposition's opponents speak only of love and the desire for acceptance and the dignity that is due to all benevolent, loving people.

Faith and Philosophy

A thought-provoking opinion piece on faith, philosophy and religion.  Despite his unsupported shot at atheist Richard Dawkins, the author satisfactorily summed up the impersonal fundamentals of why I rejected Christianity and all other forms of organized religion and became such a fervent agnostic. I find religious orthodoxy barbaric.

In these popular debates about God’s existence, the winners are neither theists nor atheists, but agnostics — the neglected step-children of religious controversy, who rightly point out that neither side in the debate has made its case. This is the position supported by the consensus of expert philosophical opinion.

Through experiences of, for example, natural beauty, moral obligation, or loving and being loved, we may develop an abiding sense of the reality of an extraordinarily good and powerful being who cares about us. Who is to say that such experiences do not give reason for belief in God as much as parallel (though different) experiences give reason for belief in reliable knowledge of the past and future and of other human minds? There is still room for philosophical disputes about this line of thought, but it remains the most plausible starting point of a philosophical case for religious belief.

But this defense of faith faces a steep hurdle. Although it may support generic religious claims about a good and powerful being who cares for us, it is very hard to see it sustaining the specific and robust claims of Judaism, Christianity and Islam about how God is concretely and continually involved in our existence. God is said to be not just good and powerful but morally perfect and omnipotent, a sure ultimate safeguard against any evil that might threaten us. He not only cares about us but has set up precise moral norms and liturgical practices that we must follow to ensure our eternal salvation. Without such specificity, religion lacks the exhilarating and terrifying possibilities that have made it such a powerful force in human history.

What sort of religious experience could support the claim that Jesus Christ was God incarnate and not just a great moral teacher? Or that the Bible rather than the Koran is the revelation of God’s own words? Believers may have strong feelings of certainty, but each religion rejects the certainty of all the others, which leaves us asking why they privilege their own faith.

That last paragraph is profound. I cannot fathom how anybody from any faith can see a person of another faith, equally faithful, and believe with absolute certainty that they are doomed to burn in hell.

Eloquence

This opinion piece from the New York Times is beautifully-written.  Excerpts:

At their worst, Varronians make flimsy claims on preserving public decorum and solidify the state’s marginalization of religious minorities — as the Swiss did in December 2009 by passing a referendum banning the construction of minarets. Augustinians at their worst expect the state to respect primordial bigotries and tribal exceptionalism — as do many of this country’s so-called Christian conservatives.

Might there be a third way? If, as several thinkers have suggested, we now find ourselves in a “post-secular” age, then perhaps we might look beyond traditional disputes between political and ecclesiastical authority, between religion and secularism. Perhaps post-secularity can take justice and equality to be absolutely good with little regard for whether we come to value the good by a religious or secular path. Our various social formations — political, religious, social, familial — find their highest calling in deepening our bonds of fellow feeling. “Compelling state interest” has no inherent value; belief also has no inherent value. Political and religious positions must be measured against the purity of truths, rightly conceived as those principles enabling the richest possible lives for our fellow human beings.

Whitman may have been the first post-secularist in seeing that political and religious institutions declaring certain bodies to be shameful denigrate all human dignity: every individual is a vibrant body electric deeply connected to all beings by an instinct of fellow feeling. Such living democracy shames the puerile self-interest of modern electoral politics, and the worn barbarisms lurking under the shroud of retrograde orthodoxy.

Those commenters who call Faisal Mohamed obtuse and cannot fathom the crystal clear message of this article are particularly thick-skulled.

GRRR!

Homophobia makes me so ill. Trembling with restrained anger ill.

I read the New York Times everyday, usually perusing it at my leisure, focusing mostly on the Health, World, U.S. and Opinions categories. Well, I clicked my way through to a discussion about a recently-released movie about the family of a lesbian couple.

Some of those comments got my hackles up. Why can't I just click that little X in the corner and shut it all down? Why do I torturously keep reading? To tally up the shots fired by the accepting vs. those of the homophobes? There really is no comparison of logic... The accepting are categorically logical and love-oriented, while the prejudiced are religious and full of hate. Kind of a horrible joke that hate and religion can make such well-matched bedfellows.

And you know why I feel so ill? I can't argue. No matter what approach I take - love, logic, science, you name it - they are all moot arguments in the face of fundamentalist Christianity. There's really no point to even trying. It's so hard being an agnostic with an interest in religion and theology, standing apart from the system, the proponents of which are still so utterly enmeshed that they can't break free enough of the accompanying cultural norms to compose a universal argument. I guess I must be too NON-enmeshed to compose an argument with true clout to those I so desperately wish to sway. I shouldn't even try, there's no point. No reason to, except to try to assuage my own pain, express my own ideas, because my arguments fall into the same empty void as theirs do. I will try to be a void.

I can't fight self-imposed ignorance and religion-backed hate.

A Piece for the Patriarchs

I have a lot of issues with patriarchy. I think I would have a lot of issues with a similarly motivated "matriarchy" if it existed as a powerful force in American society, but it doesn't and never will. I don't just have issues with patriarchy; I vehemently oppose it.  Those blogs I read that inspire such frustration and sadness in me are usually the blogs of patriarchal women, women who support the concept of men as leaders and decision-makers and women as holy background scenery, homemakers, mothers.  All of these roles are important, but I disbelieve that they are concretely male or female.

I read these blogs anyway, just to find out if these ladies can truly back their claims about gender roles.  Sometimes there is definitely truth in their assertions, and science, and logic - and other times, their sources are biased, their science is outdated and their reasoning is inherently flawed.  Unfortunately for them, scripture will never sway me as a source of ultimate instruction and judgment.  I don't believe in satan, hell, or that the bible is the word of God.  I may be spiritual, but I am also deeply agnostic.  These women are categorically driven by the socialization that they don't even notice is working in their words and thoughts and actions.

So am I, but at least I challenge it on a daily basis.

I also read to find ways to counteract.  To oppose.  We just don't speak the same language.

So often, I hear that women simply are not meant to work in a "man's world."  Women lack the motivation, wherewithal and competitive natures to excel, thus making them imperfect choices as potential employees.  Women should never believe that employers owe them anything, because they are inherently imperfect choices.  I often read the assertion that the dearest ambition of every woman is to become a mother, and if particular women claim not to have this ambition, they are denying their true natures and are pathetic creatures doomed to dissatisfaction later in life.  According to many articles and posts I've read, this inevitable vicious cycle of thought and action on the parts of women relating to wifedom, motherhood and homemaking makes them virtually unemployable, expensive and unable to devote the necessary amount of time and energy needed to excel in a "man's world."  This entire set of assertions is based on one flawed pillar:  God made women to be, ultimately, wives, mothers and homemakers.

It was with satisfaction, agreement and hope that I read this opinion piece published in the New York Times entitled Don't Write Off Men Just Yet, by Nicholas Kristof.  Excerpts:

With women making far-reaching gains, there’s a larger question. Are women simply better-suited than men to today’s jobs? The Atlantic raised this issue provocatively in this month’s issue with a cover story by Hanna Rosin bluntly entitled, “The End of Men.”

“What if the modern, postindustrial economy is simply more congenial to women than to men?” Ms. Rosin asked. She adds: “The postindustrial economy is indifferent to men’s size and strength. The attributes that are most valuable today — social intelligence, open communication, the ability to sit still and focus — are, at a minimum, not predominately male. In fact, the opposite may be true.”

Yet count me a skeptic. My hunch is that we’re moving into greater gender balance, not a fundamentally new imbalance in the other direction. Don’t hold your breath for “the end of men.”
I think we exaggerate the degree to which the sexes are mired in conflict. As Henry Kissinger once said, “Nobody will ever win the battle of the sexes. There’s too much fraternizing with the enemy.” We men want our wives and daughters to encounter opportunity in the workplace, not sexual harassment; women want their husbands and sons to be in the executive suite, not jail. Nearly all of us root for fairness, not for our own sex.  

 So forget about gender war and zero-sum games. Odds are that we men will find a way to hold our own, with the help of women. And we’ll benefit as smart and talented women belatedly have the opportunity to deploy their skills on behalf of all of humanity — including those of us with Y chromosomes.

Opinions, Opinions

Welp, I seem to be getting over this strange cold I've had. This whole week, I wake up barely able to breathe, with swollen and painful tonsils. (This may be disgusting, so bear with me) I also poked around a bit thinking I had a tonsillolith, but nope, nothing there.  This morning, I was more chipper than I've been in awhile, and my throat isn't so sore.  Maybe it had something to do with me drinking over 50 oz. of water every day.

Unforfunately, Natty's husband Pepper was very very ill last night and the night before.  He went to urgent care this morning, where they proclaimed it was food-related and non-communicable and prescribed him some anti-nausea pills, so...  He went to work (he's an engineer).  Insanity!  Two nights of what I'd label as acute misery with work during the day?  That's hardcore.

I spent my break this morning writing an extra-long post on abortion after reading this article in the New York Times.  It tracks the evolution of abortion provision in the United States from its roots to today, when physicians and advocates are taking steps toward covering the family planning as a part of basic women's health coverage. More power to these young, tough, dedicated physicians. They are saving the lives of women around the world.

I am pro-choice.  I didn't start out pro-choice, but I am firmly so now.

I myself would probably never opt to have an abortion - but I have the education, the wherewithal, the authority over myself and the financial resources to be able to prevent pregnancy. I am married to a man who supports me and believes in the importance of my independence and authority. In the extreme case that I become pregnant and don't desire to carry to term, my course of action would be to visit my OBGYN and induce rejection of the uterine lining. In the even more extreme case that this procedure was not effective, I would likely carry to term. If I became accidentally pregnant and Caspian wanted to keep the child, I would be more likely to agree to carry to term. However, he doesn't want children right now and would be happy to have a childless marriage. His opinion might change, but if it doesn't, it's fine by me.

When we began talking about marriage, Caspian and I both agreed that children, while they may be welcomed and joyfully anticipated in the future, were not our primary reason for marrying. Motherhood has never been one of my ambitions; in fact, I believe that motherhood is not an ambition, but an essential experience. I didn't dream of having babies as a child. I didn't reject the idea at all, it just didn't even enter my mind as an option in my future. Don't get the wrong idea - we're not anti-child at all, we don't hate babies (we rather like them, a lot!). At this juncture, we simply do not want to be parents. At this juncture. If we decide too late [to concieve] that we did want children, it is our responsibility to accept that fact, or to accept the costs associated with fertility treatments or adoption.

I believe that women should have the right to control what happens to their bodies. Pregnancy is one of those things. This doesn't mean that I believe that pregnancy, childbirth, and parenthood are not amazing and miraculous, and I'm not rejecting that fact or underestimating the responsibilities that come with these things. Reproduction IS a natural, common thing as well. Sometimes it can be a huge unwanted burden, sometimes caused by sick crimes, that results in suffering, oppression, poverty and neglect. A perfect world wouldn't contain those things, but we don't live in a perfect world.

All women (and little girls, sadly), especially those who can't provide for more children, who are drug addicts, who are raped, who are suffering in conditions of extreme poverty, etc. should ALWAYS and READILY have the option to prevent future needless suffering and neglect. Either it is an initial choice (in which contraception is the responsible course of action), or an option of last recourse, which I firmly believe is a mercy.

I could go into the origins of socio-cultural values that have historically rewarded men and punished women for promiscuity, but I'll leave that for another time.  I could go into the morality surrounding family planning, but I believe that anybody who adamantly opposes family planning (in any of its forms), no matter how soft their hearts are, are either too ignorant to understand its implications, or socialized to support the oppression of women.

I have found that almost all of the alternate solutions to the problems that are solved by family planning, set forth by many who adamantly oppose family planning, oppress women.