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.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
The Privatization of Air
Here in the USA we are used to the privatization of land, and some of us are aware that in some place in South America there has been an attempt (by an outside corporation) to privatize water.
How would that work: privatized water? I guess it means that if you want some water then you have to pay the corporation for it.
If you want some land, you either pay for it, steal it, or instigate a war and pretend that the land is somehow yours.
Nobody created the land itself, though they may have created or improved what's on it.
I think air is -- or will be, some day -- subject to the same basic notions as land is now in the USA, and as water could be in some places. You need land, air, and water, to sustain your life and the lives of your family. You may (if not already, then someday) pay someone for the land, the water, and the air. Why not? If it makes sense for one natural resource, why not for all natural resources?
In one possible scenario, people will first pay for air in space colonies, and then later some entrepeneurs will transport the idea to the planet. What's good for business in space colonies is good for business on Earth.
In another possible scenario, an engineering corporation will create a new kind of oxygen molecule, which will be "accidentally" or otherwise leaked into the environment and will drift around such that the corporation will be able to sue for patent infringement whenever anyone else is discovered in possession of said molecule. There's already something like that going on for corn, using genetic engineering and the wind (which blows seeds). There are all sorts of possibilities (such as engineering a disease for which only you hold the (patented) cure) and all these things can be very profitable, and likely supported by the U.S. and its Supreme Court. The United Nations or the World Court may not like it, but they don't have enforcement powers (bombs).
So what you may want to think about, just to plan ahead, is to save up some air, maybe compressed air in tanks, and bury it in your back yard (if you don't trust the air banks). Then when air becomes scarce you will be positioned for the kill -- economically of course. I mean you could sell part of it for a big profit and breathe the rest. Everyone who didn't save up any air would be at such a disadvantage, you might end up living a long time.
How would that work: privatized water? I guess it means that if you want some water then you have to pay the corporation for it.
If you want some land, you either pay for it, steal it, or instigate a war and pretend that the land is somehow yours.
Nobody created the land itself, though they may have created or improved what's on it.
I think air is -- or will be, some day -- subject to the same basic notions as land is now in the USA, and as water could be in some places. You need land, air, and water, to sustain your life and the lives of your family. You may (if not already, then someday) pay someone for the land, the water, and the air. Why not? If it makes sense for one natural resource, why not for all natural resources?
In one possible scenario, people will first pay for air in space colonies, and then later some entrepeneurs will transport the idea to the planet. What's good for business in space colonies is good for business on Earth.
In another possible scenario, an engineering corporation will create a new kind of oxygen molecule, which will be "accidentally" or otherwise leaked into the environment and will drift around such that the corporation will be able to sue for patent infringement whenever anyone else is discovered in possession of said molecule. There's already something like that going on for corn, using genetic engineering and the wind (which blows seeds). There are all sorts of possibilities (such as engineering a disease for which only you hold the (patented) cure) and all these things can be very profitable, and likely supported by the U.S. and its Supreme Court. The United Nations or the World Court may not like it, but they don't have enforcement powers (bombs).
So what you may want to think about, just to plan ahead, is to save up some air, maybe compressed air in tanks, and bury it in your back yard (if you don't trust the air banks). Then when air becomes scarce you will be positioned for the kill -- economically of course. I mean you could sell part of it for a big profit and breathe the rest. Everyone who didn't save up any air would be at such a disadvantage, you might end up living a long time.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Me and Religion
I have a postulate and an example. The example came first so I'll tell it first: When I was a boy I absorbed, from church, the notion that there was everlasting suffering in Hell for individuals, for wrongs committed in a finite lifespan. That is the start of my example.
I cannot prove such things one way or the other. One can apply logic, but that does not suffice to resolve such an enormous issue. After all, there could be a God which can do anything and which we mere humans cannot fathom. So I do what I can: I apply logic, and I can have a faith. Logic tells me that it doesn't make sense that there would be everlasting suffering for a person as a consequence of whatever he or she did in a finite lifespan. Logic also indicates to me that a God worth caring about is not petty nor maliciously tricky.
Logic can only take you so far, but not all the way into the religious issues. Part of what we are is faith. My faith is simple and sturdy. It is that "The All Is Not Bad". (That's my postulate, axiom, and faith.) The All (the universe and everything in it, including whatever God or Gods may be in it, and in all its dimensions including time and emotion), altogether in its net effect, is not horrible, not maliciously governed, not an eternity of suffering for most well-meaning people; rather, it (the All) is at least benignly neutral, or possibly "good".
That's my faith. I cannot prove it is true, but that's how all faiths are: not provable. My faith is that being sensible and well-meaning is good, and that the supreme God over all, if one exists, is not going to punish us for being sensible and well-meaning.
Some people think that a lack of reverence for their God implies a wanton, careless, and bad life. I don't see it that way. I don't say I have a "reverence for God"; rather, I am more inclined to say I am trying to hold onto what is good, important, and lasting. My lack of religious-speak does not imply any shallowness.
Some people think the question of whether God exists or not is the First Big Question that has to be answered, and that everything else depends on how it is answered. But I say, it is not the main issue. I say, yes God exists, though I don't know exactly what that means and am not much concerned over exactly what it means; but more importantly, The All Is Not Bad, whether God is in it or not. Believing as I do that the All is not bad, I have hope for myself and for everybody, and I can believe that each suffering will come to an end, and that aspirations can be fulfilled. I can believe that whatever we really need can be obtained. I can believe, for example, that if it matters, then a loving God exists.
But if I did not believe that the All is not bad -- if I believed that the All might be bad -- if I believed, as many people have been taught in churches to believe, that a Supreme God would impose a horrible everlasting punishment for a finite sinful life, then I would not have much hope, and could fear, but not love, such a mean God. And I _would_ fear and obey such a God, if I were sure that was how things really are. But I can never be sure of that, and it may be that that kind of belief would be the wrong path -- the path that the real God disapproves of and hates.
I live, or try to live, my little mortal life in such a way that I have no major moral regrets. If it turns out that my faith is wrong, and it turns out that I'll go to Hell, I won't have any good reason to feel guilty about it. I will have tried to be a decent person and live as I suppose the real God would approve. (I won't be anywhere near perfect -- but the real God, as I believe him/her/it to be, respects reasonable efforts.) I could be wrong, and thus I might be a victim of a petty malicious God that tricked me by giving me a brain to be logical with; but if that is so, then its opposite might as easily be so, and any other statement might as easily be so -- one can never be sure that one small tricky God in particular is the real Supreme Being Over All.
I cannot prove such things one way or the other. One can apply logic, but that does not suffice to resolve such an enormous issue. After all, there could be a God which can do anything and which we mere humans cannot fathom. So I do what I can: I apply logic, and I can have a faith. Logic tells me that it doesn't make sense that there would be everlasting suffering for a person as a consequence of whatever he or she did in a finite lifespan. Logic also indicates to me that a God worth caring about is not petty nor maliciously tricky.
Logic can only take you so far, but not all the way into the religious issues. Part of what we are is faith. My faith is simple and sturdy. It is that "The All Is Not Bad". (That's my postulate, axiom, and faith.) The All (the universe and everything in it, including whatever God or Gods may be in it, and in all its dimensions including time and emotion), altogether in its net effect, is not horrible, not maliciously governed, not an eternity of suffering for most well-meaning people; rather, it (the All) is at least benignly neutral, or possibly "good".
That's my faith. I cannot prove it is true, but that's how all faiths are: not provable. My faith is that being sensible and well-meaning is good, and that the supreme God over all, if one exists, is not going to punish us for being sensible and well-meaning.
Some people think that a lack of reverence for their God implies a wanton, careless, and bad life. I don't see it that way. I don't say I have a "reverence for God"; rather, I am more inclined to say I am trying to hold onto what is good, important, and lasting. My lack of religious-speak does not imply any shallowness.
Some people think the question of whether God exists or not is the First Big Question that has to be answered, and that everything else depends on how it is answered. But I say, it is not the main issue. I say, yes God exists, though I don't know exactly what that means and am not much concerned over exactly what it means; but more importantly, The All Is Not Bad, whether God is in it or not. Believing as I do that the All is not bad, I have hope for myself and for everybody, and I can believe that each suffering will come to an end, and that aspirations can be fulfilled. I can believe that whatever we really need can be obtained. I can believe, for example, that if it matters, then a loving God exists.
But if I did not believe that the All is not bad -- if I believed that the All might be bad -- if I believed, as many people have been taught in churches to believe, that a Supreme God would impose a horrible everlasting punishment for a finite sinful life, then I would not have much hope, and could fear, but not love, such a mean God. And I _would_ fear and obey such a God, if I were sure that was how things really are. But I can never be sure of that, and it may be that that kind of belief would be the wrong path -- the path that the real God disapproves of and hates.
I live, or try to live, my little mortal life in such a way that I have no major moral regrets. If it turns out that my faith is wrong, and it turns out that I'll go to Hell, I won't have any good reason to feel guilty about it. I will have tried to be a decent person and live as I suppose the real God would approve. (I won't be anywhere near perfect -- but the real God, as I believe him/her/it to be, respects reasonable efforts.) I could be wrong, and thus I might be a victim of a petty malicious God that tricked me by giving me a brain to be logical with; but if that is so, then its opposite might as easily be so, and any other statement might as easily be so -- one can never be sure that one small tricky God in particular is the real Supreme Being Over All.
April 23, 2010, 10pm, home alone
I am at home alone, the house-cleaners left, and I already took the kids' stuff to them. They are at their mom's house for a few days.
Tomorrow I can't work much because the computers I would need are down. In the evening I'll go to the Arab American Cultural Center for the first time, and get a copy of the book "Mornings in Jenin" which according to a reviewer is an easy and exciting read. Why not. I can't work because the computers are down. And it's the weekend so I might read a book.
I will also get some exercise. I had planned on training for a marathon but that plan has changed. Now I am training to walk a half-marathon. I know I can do that because I did it several times when I was younger, but back then I didn't call it a half-marathon; it was just walking to Blackwell, and back home later the same day, and that was as far as two half-marathons. With a little care and and a few months of training, I should be able to walk a half-marathon now even if I am 56 years old. The other exercise I'll do, tomorrow, is lifting light weights at the gym. I've been doing that fairly regularly for a couple of weeks. It hasn't made any noticeable difference, except that I feel better.
Tomorrow I can't work much because the computers I would need are down. In the evening I'll go to the Arab American Cultural Center for the first time, and get a copy of the book "Mornings in Jenin" which according to a reviewer is an easy and exciting read. Why not. I can't work because the computers are down. And it's the weekend so I might read a book.
I will also get some exercise. I had planned on training for a marathon but that plan has changed. Now I am training to walk a half-marathon. I know I can do that because I did it several times when I was younger, but back then I didn't call it a half-marathon; it was just walking to Blackwell, and back home later the same day, and that was as far as two half-marathons. With a little care and and a few months of training, I should be able to walk a half-marathon now even if I am 56 years old. The other exercise I'll do, tomorrow, is lifting light weights at the gym. I've been doing that fairly regularly for a couple of weeks. It hasn't made any noticeable difference, except that I feel better.
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