the cynic put to shame

This morning I was approached by a six-year-old girl who was in desperate search for the chapstick she'd misplaced. Apparently her father gave it to her for the day and she didn't want to return home without it. She asked me if I'd help her look for it and I scoffed at the idea in my head. She doesn't know any better, I thought. How on earth did she expect to find something so small when it could be virtually anywhere on the camp ground? I tried to comfort her, emphasizing that it was simply chapstick and her father would not be upset. Though she was perhaps disappointed, she gave up her search and continued in her play.

Several hours later, I was sitting at a picnic table with a couple of the older boys in the camp. In the midst of conversation, I heard a small voice asking, can you help me find my chapstick now? I almost laughed. There we were, six hours after the girl's chapstick had disappeared, and she was still looking for it. But before the pessimistic in me could explain to her the loss of the cause, another boy at the table quickly spoke up. Chapstick? Was it pink? He ran off towards the swing set and returned shortly thereafter with a tube of chapstick in his hand. She took it with thanks and walked away.

Coincidence? Maybe. Meaningless? Maybe. Purposeful? Maybe.

a recommendation

So I bought a book a couple of days ago which is quite easily one of the most profound works I've ever read. Written by Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth seeks to aid humans in finding that joy of Being that we all long for. He stresses the importance of living in the Now and explains how we can accomplish such a task. I was simply amazed by his teachings and how sensible they are.

There is no way I could do justice in conveying the message that Tolle brings to the table. I can only emphasize the incredible impact this book will have on your life if you choose to take my advice. Buy it! It is an investment you will not regret. In fact, the book itself will teach you how to overcome regret entirely. Don't brush these words off your shoulders. Ignore that unwillingness in your head and take action!

conscious limits

It was about 9:30 am when I found myself propelled into another happening of déjà vu. We were on a bus headed to Peoria for the 'Freaky Friday' field trip and I was talking to a 4th grader from another camp. Not to my surprise, it wasn't long before a few boys interrupted our conversation. As they struggled to get my attention, I grew confused and had difficulty deciding which persons to listen to. I could either continue my conversation with the girl I was talking to or shift my attention to the boys behind me (they were talking simultaneously). At first, I tried listening to all of the banter, but quickly lost track of what they were saying. It's my contention that I could not focus on all of them due to that eerie feeling déjà vu harbors. The only thing on my mind was something like, wait a minute--I've experienced this before. It was then that I quickly dealt with the boys behind me and continued my conversation as before.

So what the heck is the point? I've had déjà vu several times before and most of these instances seem completely random and meaningless. I usually draw the conclusion that I've dreamed the incident prior to its occurrence, probably years in advance. But I'm not sure how or why any of this happens. Regardless, it leaves my jaw dropped every time. If anything, it's further testimony to the fact that the mind and consciousness are full of mysteries. The conscious mind yields everything that we are, yet it is the very product of consciousness that cannot understand its source. What exactly is the entity that is seeing, feeling, etc.? What is controlling my actions and thoughts? What am I?

Some philosophers contend that this question cannot be answered. According to the anti-reflexivity principle, an entity cannot operate on itself. That is, a finger cannot point at itself, a knife cannot cut itself, etc. This suggests that the conscious mind, the understander, cannot understand itself. Therefore, we will never understand the essence of consciousness, nor will we understand what selves are. This is a view I've had no problem adopting. It would explain why scientists don't even have a framework for the subject of consciousness. Though, one might object to the above principle, citing the fire that burns itself or the light that illuminates itself. Either way, it's good food for thought.

I'll refrain from boring you further. Enjoy the weekend.

the active spirit

Aaahhh...just finished up a nice little jam session with my buddy. It's always a thrill to find a musician who knows what they are doing. Just pick up a couple guitars and play from the heart. That's one thing I love about composing/playing music. Though it's not always like this, sometimes I just get lost in the music and can play for hours. There's something so beautiful about the process of creating. The mind ultimately plans and predicts the sound, while the fingers and vocal chords carry out the process. For me, it's spirituality at its best. I'm allowed to exhibit the senses in a way that's meaningful and entertaining. I'm amazed that humans are capable of producing something so incredible. Music has a way of speaking to us all.

What a great way to wrap up the evening.

today i felt like a person

Plain and simple. Woke up bright and early to a misty, cool morning. Drove to work listening to Wilco's latest compositions. No major problems at the camp, save a few cuts and bruises here and there. As usual, I had some good conversations with my co-worker, Sean. It's amazing how much we humans can learn from each other when we break out of our social-disabling shell. It would really be something if we could frequently practice openness and compassion towards everyone around. But who could possibly do that? After all, establishing some initial foundation of trust is probably necessary for most individuals. People don't tend to open up to others without getting to know them first. And this is perfectly reasonable. I doubt that a stranger is interested in my personal beliefs or experiences. As the reader, you may not even be interested in my rantings. So it's clear that an interest in one's life is preceded by the developing acquaintance between two persons. Unless, of course, the reader is a complete stranger. In that case, I am flattered.

Anyways, I drove home satisfied with the day's endeavors. I hope you folks can look back on the day and share my serenity.

beneath the surface

If someone were to remove everything from your life, leaving only those things that matter most, what would be left? Family? Friends? Lovers? What if you were to find that the significant remains weren't at all what you expected? What if, after this incredible act, everything remained?

It may be the case that those things we deem unnecessary are actually meaningful beyond comprehension. I only hope that I will soon understand the fleeting emotions running through this thick piece of meat lodged in my head.

One day the ups and downs will blend together in a brilliant encore of enlightenment.

live and learn

I really wish that I hadn't picked a major when I was 18. The only thing on my mind was getting out of high school and living somewhat independently. When it came to my field of study, I just thought, hey, education seems easy, let's go with that! Not only was I wrong about the apparent ease of the discipline, but I was also completely unaware of what I actually wanted to study. I look back on the three years of school I've finished and can only pinpoint a few classes that impacted me. The rest of my days were filled with ridiculous gen eds and poorly structured education courses. Why was it not until the second semester of my 3rd year that I was finally teaching in a classroom? As an education major, I thought this might come much sooner.

This is not to suggest that I am unhappy with the profession I am entering. My discontent lies mainly with the courses I've taken. They have taught me absolutely nothing about myself or the world around me. I'm pretty sure that all I've done is made hundreds of lesson plans that I'll never use. Don't get me wrong, I have learned some useful information about teaching. But I haven't been given a chance to apply that information. I'm going to be tossed in front of a classroom in a year and I don't know the first thing about how the curriculum works. It's ridiculous.

I do look forward to working with the kids. I'm really hoping for a job teaching 7th or 8th grade language arts. And I'm sure that I'll find it to be an excellent and rewarding experience. I simply regret that I did not pursue my best interests while I was here. If I were wealthy, I'd stay in school for a while longer and study literature or philosophy. It's frightening that a little bit of money is holding me back from studying those things I have passion for. What a strange life this is.

delightful, yet harmful

The best way to describe me is simply human. I have good intentions, yet easily fail to embrace the objective goodness in life. I am a hypocrite because at the core of my optimistic heart lies a cynical being. There is a person inside me who wants to rejoice in love, yet I ignore that person and sulk in the pain of remorse. I want nothing more than to enjoy every moment of every day, but it is by my own actions that enjoyment ceases to prosper.

While this all seems very somber, it couldn't be any closer to the truth. I am imperfect. Every human being is. You may be asking yourself, what about the whole lecture on embracing goodness and suppressing the bad? This is certainly an honorable question. But perhaps this isn't as contradictory as it seems.

What exactly do I mean? Well, the premise of my former post is namely the negativity of others. Dwelling on somebody else's harmful demeanor will get you nowhere. It is in such cases that said negativity should be suppressed. On the other hand, the premise of this post is the negativity in you and me. See, we can't do anything about the shortcomings of others, but we can accept our own flaws and seek to change them. Once we can highlight our imperfections, we can take it upon ourselves to remedy the situation. So while these words sound real 'gloom and doom', there is a light at the end of the tunnel and it is up to us to take the first step.

Inspired by a co-worker, this last question follows well from the analysis above. What could a human being ever do to deserve perfect love?

anger / compassion

A little bit of spiritual healing is all you need when times are frustrating. Forget about chasing problems away with booze and cigarettes. The self doesn't need mind-altering substances to deal with day-to-day drama. What it really needs is a careful examination of corporeal reality. Personally, I tend to zero in on the negative things even when I'm surrounded by a plethora of goodness. I forget that I have food in my stomach, money in the bank, a degree in progress, family and friends, etc. Instead, my mind will be fogged with the frustrating fear of non-acceptance, or something of that accord. Nobody wants to feel targeted or disliked. But sometimes we may need to accept the fact that some persons won't accept us. That sounds a bit confusing, but with our consent it can become enlightening. The drama and tension that we hold so highly in our day-in-day-out lives means absolutely nothing in the big picture. These things only create anguish and discontent. It is the good things alone that will make us happier individuals with healthy minds.

Funny, today I asked a 4th grader what the absolute worst part of life was. Her response: lack of goodness. What an incredible answer from such a young person. She is absolutely right.

My recommendation for the evening is to head to the nearest library or bookstore and check out Ethics for the New Millennium by the incumbent Dalai Lama. His words speak louder than mine.

i am a paradox

My friend Jack wrote a passage recently that reminded me of how trapped I feel inside my own head. To reconcile with the difficulty I am having writing tonight, I figured I'd post something relevant to his thoughts. I wrote this passage a little over a month ago...

There is something inside of me that wants out. There is a part of me that wants to break free from this prison and celebrate in freedom. I have a part to play in this ensemble of chaos, yet it is lost on me. I do not know what I am supposed to do. I only know that my being is exceptional in every way, shape and form. It is a brief opportunity to revel in this ambiance any way I see fit. It exists for reasons greater than I know. If this were not the case, it should not exist at all. There must be purpose to this flesh, this blood, this ego. For if this coalition were purposeless there would be no significance for its existence. And what are these things if not significant? The division of taste, touch, smell, vision, hearing. Our perceptions, tied with our experiences, exhaust everything that constitutes our lives. Thus, every instant, nay, every existent is significant in this marvelous dream of ineffability. All things, holding significance, must have purpose. For what is significant holds purpose, and what lacks purpose has significance none.

I am a paradox because these are the things that matter most to me, yet I fail to communicate and live by my own values. My life is a poem with a blank slate.

let the sun beat down upon my face

There is only one word I can think of to describe today's endeavors: WARM. Weather.com says it's 83 degrees but I believe it is feeding me lies. See, I work as a camp counselor and most of my days are spent out in the sun. It actually hasn't been too bad up until this week. The sun just seemed to permeate right through me today. But no matter how hot it was, I kept reminding myself that I wasn't hauling around a 30-pound backpack like I did last summer. My position as a counselor is certainly a step up from the old days of factory work and mosquito abatement. And I am most grateful to have such a position. Though, I've found that no matter what job I have, the work is accompanied by subtle feelings of gratification. Even when things are rough, I find more fulfillment in labor than in its antithesis. Unemployment tends to make us feel useless on a number of levels. I think this partially comes from our drive to succeed, though we often mistake this drive with our love of money. Of course, the paycheck at the end of the week or month is inspiration unto itself, but perhaps there's something further we should be taking away from our jobs. I suppose this would differ in accordance with every individual, but I encourage readers to go into work with anticipation rather than apathy. There's always something to learn, whether it be from the labor or the surrounding people.

the inspiration

It's only after years of reading a friend's blog that I finally decided to create my own. I believe my former roommate set one of these up for me in the past, though I never actually did anything with it. Amazing how the mind is constantly engaged in thought, yet it can draw a monotonous blank at any attempt to forego the mental into the physical. That is, recording thoughts onto paper can be extremely difficult. I once discussed this with a co-worker and he suggested that I simply write more often. This seems like an easy solution, yet I am still lacking that necessary drive. Perhaps this blog will give me the boost I am looking for.

Right about now you are probably thinking, what the hell is with the blog title? It's a slight modification of the novel by Milan Kundera, entitled The Unbearable Lightness of Being. I've never read it, nor do I plan on it any time soon. Regardless, the title seems to be notorious and I thought it fit to change the word lightness to heaviness. I hardly think that one can classify their existence as "light." Rather, it is a complete mystery to the human race, an enigma that no person has ever been able to grasp. It is the phenomenon that reminds us how weak our minds actually are no matter how intellectually strong we appear to be. As such, I deemed heavy to be a more suitable adjective in this particular phrase.

Til' next time,
Matt