Thursday, August 19, 2010

Listing The Good Things

This week I thought of listing the good things in my life. Here are a few:

Annual family camping trips to the Rocky Mountains when I was small

Christmas when I was small

Learning how to play chess (when I was 9)

The first two years of college (1971-1973)

The first week of college (1971)

Some of the reading, writing, running, and trumpet playing

Reading to, and taking care of, my two children when they were very small

Explaining things -- an example is when I was helping my fellow students add fractions in grade school.

About this list: I have found it difficult to make a good "list of good things". There's always something about it that is problematic -- either I have to leave out something because it cannot be revealed, or I will offend people I don't want to offend (indirectly).

For a long time in my life I have had a short list of bad things in my life which I have always thought were very important. I still think that way, but this week I tried this experiment in which I write down good things.

I like to arrange concepts. Usually that takes the form of prose writing, and is like a short rough essay. The concepts may be bad things, good things, technical things, or some kind of reasoning or solutions. I usually begin after encountering something provocative, such as someone's email post, or an injustice, and I write an email about it.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Sentiment

I seldom pray the way a religious person would; but my father liked to say that everyone prays all the time, all prayers are answered, [so] be careful what you pray for. I think he was right, or if he was quoting somebody, then that person was right.

If I prayed like a religious person more, then maybe I'd have more of an outlet for sentiments I am feeling. Tonight I am happy to have received a shipment of books from a relative, and happy in a vague sort of way that I'm on good speaking terms with both of my children and with almost everyone else I know. But most of my sentiment, lately, more than when I was younger, is about mortality, which is the way it's been since my parents each died a few years ago.

Here's the thing about mortality which I've figured out: It is a natural thing. It would be reasonable to not fear it any more than one would fear being sick for a while. For me this is a discovery. I did not realize it, as much, earlier in my life.

We are like leaves on a tree. The tree is more important than the leaves. Identify not only as a leaf, but also identify with the tree, the forest, the planet, the universe, and with principles or with your God.

We each have an awareness. We are aware of what happens while we are alive. When we die, that kind of awareness stops (presumably). (Or if you believe it continues, then you can be happy about that, in this benign universe with its benign God or its benign unGod.) Presuming that there is a real comprehensive death, then our waking moments and our awareness extend only to our living moments; therefore, for one's living awareness one's death does not even exist: one is never aware of being dead.

I would regret dying soon, but that is for two reasons which would not have to be. One reason is that I (and close associates) have not yet made good practical preparations for my death. The other is that I (and close associates) am(/are) not fully philosophically and emotionally understanding the naturalness and benign-ness of death. The problems are not really about death per se, but rather about life and about understanding.

Finally (and this is like a prayer of praise), I am happy that, even when I don't understand, and even when I do everything wrong, the universe is (ultimately) still benign, the God is still benign, and the unGod is still benign.

As for my parents, I feel sentiment about them, too.

Some people use the word "love". But today I am thinking that love is like air; or for a fish it is like water. If we are always surrounded by it (which is the way I feel in this moment), it is not a thing to be defined, because it is everywhere and not distinguishable from everything else.