Yay!

I have learned through his blog that my friend Duane may be achieving a greater degree of personal happiness than has been his lot lately.  I hope it works out well for him — he deserves it.

Perhaps it just took a few months for the “Michigan Malaise” to fade from his aura of California Dreamin’.  Hee hee.

Life and death

So there I was, sitting in Rick’s apartment, talking about the possible responses to being attacked in a dark alley — just one little grape from the delicious cornucopia of tangents that frequently spills over during our conversations.  In this instance, our original discussion addressed some of what I’ve seen and learned in martial-arts training.

Background:  The three typical conflict-response paradigms are flight, fight or compromise.  That is, when faced with conflict, we can (a) find some way to escape it with a minimum of harm, (b) respond in kind, aggressively, or (c) try to find a middle path that does the least violence to the involved parties while maximizing the satisfaction of everyone’s demands.

Anyway, in the dark-alley scenario, the usual response from the victim is “flight,”  either by attempting to leave the situation through running one’s tail off, or by complying with the demands of the aggressors and hoping for the best.  But what if compliance is not an option?  What if the demand is for your money, but you left your wallet in the car and your back is pressed against a wall?

Thus arose the tangent: Can a person cultivate behaviors or arrange for experiences that might make the “fight” response more attractive or reasonable?

It’s an interesting question.  Yesterday, I had the great privilege of observing my dojo’s black-belt testing and award ceremony.  Four students (three adults and one junior) successfully tested to the black, and it was way cool to watch.  The board of black-belt instructors pressed the candidates hard.  One of the basic sets of stylized moves, called the Sanjin Kata, was part of the ordeal.  But it gets better — the candidates had to strip to the waist and were beaten by an instructor while performing the kata, and the students had to maintain perfect form and stance throughout.  The candidates were bruised, but they made it.  It was almost painful to watch, though.  And don’t get me started on the sparring portion of the test!

Anyway, one thing I’ve noticed is that the mere possession of certain self-defense skills doesn’t necessarily mean that a person will employ them successfully when the time comes.  A curious aspect of martial-arts training for self-defense seems to be that a fair number of relatively meek people train to gain self-confidence, but can’t muster the intensity (even during full-force-impact testing and sparring) to really respond well to focused aggression.

Perhaps the situation would be different if some of these people were actually placed in a dark-alley situation, with adrenaline flooding the body.  Perhaps.

But it does prompt some interesting ideas.  Like:  What sort of experiences could cultivate the right sort of disposition that permits the unfettered exercise of aggressive energy in a fight-or-flight encounter?

I’m not sure that mere training is sufficient.  I think that the best preparation for a possible life-or-death event is to have prior experience with life-or-death events.

Which, upon reflection, is really one of the reasons I want to earn skydiving certification next summer.  Not so much for the thrill of free-fall (although that certainly has some appeal), but for the self-mastery to choose to engage in risky or even life-threatening behavior and to learn the skills to deal with such situations.

Put differently … I think the best way to survive dangerous ordeals is to remain calm, cool and collected.  And even though training (in the martial arts, or in other areas) can provide tools and techniques to provide an advantage, true survivial is a matter of mental and emotional self-possession, of which the most effective means of securing it is to deliberately put yourself in harm’s way.  When you have experience facing your fear of death, then that fear loses its power to terrify.

A person who is afraid of death or injury will only survive a dark-alley encounter by luck.  Fear is a powerful motivator, and a necessary component to making it through the tough times.  But untempered, untrained, out-of-control fear is a liability. 

Consider the case of the dark-alley ambush.  Granted that the most appropriate response is dependent on conditions (and thus doesn’t lend itself well to broad pontificating), ask yourself what feels right:  Cowering in fear and thus increasing the likelihood of injury or death, or responding to the aggression with one’s own aggression? 

The bully or criminal mentality is based on power.  As long as evildoers believe they have power over a person, they will often turn that person in to a victim.  But standing up to the bully often inspires a fear response in him, effecting a turning of the tables.  So there seems to be some prudence in listening to Sun Tzu, who counseled that that best way of winning is to avoid fighting at all.  If having the courage to yell back and threaten an aggressor will make the aggressor flee, so much the better.

Anyway, my perspective on conflict resolution is shifting a bit.  Still got more to sort through.

My sister-in-law would be proud …

… because I went to the gym on Sunday afternoon and instead of thinking about philosophy, I just cleared my mind, put on my headphones and admired the female volleyball players.  For a whole hour.

Mmm … spam

This blog has been in existence for about 11 months.  In that time, I have had a grand total of 15 legitimate comments to my posts.  As of this morning, my spam filter has cleverly intercepted 1,629 spam comments — almost all of which are for Viagra, Cialis, or some other pharmaceutical product.

This means, using a little trick I call “math,” that 99.1 percent of all comments submitted to A Mild Voice of Reason are spam.

[rant] For this reason, I advocate the death penalty for spammers.  Perhaps rendering them to Singapore for a good, old-fashioned caning prior to a relaxing salt-water bath, followed by an excruciatingly slow descent into a vat of boiling vegetable oil.  Or something like that; I can be flexible. [/rant]

Aaah, spam.

It wouldn’t bother me so much if spam were actually pitching a product or service.  Or even if they appeared to pitch a product or service.  What grates on my one remaining nerve are those spam messages that are nothing but random words.  Seriously.  I’ve been peeking at the plain-text versions of some of these spams — full headers, full-text bodies.  No embedded images, no Web bugs, no hidden hyperlinks.  Just garbage.  If there is a logic to this, I cannot fathom it.

Social reality

I made my first actual trip to the gym today.  I joined a little before Christmas, but hadn’t had the time to really get into it until the urge hit in the early afternoon.  Interesting mix of people — some older folks trying to stay in shape, some younger guys trying to bulk up, and a lot of people on the treadmills.  Including me: Those things are phenomenal, with full-screen touch-sensitive displays and the whole works.  Impressive place.

Anyway, as I was jogging away on the machine, my mind wandered to thoughts about social reality.  Yes, surrounded by hot chicks jiggling away on stationary machines, I was thinking philosophy.  I am a nerd, albeit an unusually healthy one.  Nevertheless ….

A few years ago, I read John Searle’s book, The Construction of Social Reality.  Although I grasped his main argument at the time, the impact of it hasn’t really hit me until recently.  The book can best be summarized by (believe it or not) its back-cover blurb:  “… Searle examines the structure of social reality (or those portions of the world that are facts only by human agreement …), and contrasts it to a brute reality that is independent of human agreement.  Searle shows that brute reality provides the indisputable foundation for all social reality, and that social reality, while very real, is maintained by nothing more than custom and habit.”

Well and good.  What this means is that much of what we take for granted as objectively true is “true” only insofar as we all agree to think it so.  We believe, for example, that there are facts about money, or marriage, or art — but these facts have no basis in a world without humans.  What good does it do to say that a penny is 1/100 of a dollar, if there were no people around to use currency?

It’s interesting to see how a localized social reality, e.g. in the home or office, can shift simply as a matter of public perception.  I am witnessing just such a scenario play out over the last few weeks.  A generally accepted understanding about a particular person’s role within a group has shifted dramatically merely because a few key players have allowed themselves to form a different opinion about that person’s contribution to the overall effort.  Although nothing specific changed, and there were no incidents to prompt a paradigm shift, the change in the center of gravity of the group meant that the person in question went from insider to outcast in short order.  And once the prevailing winds turned, the others acted as if the new paradigm had been true all along.

Whether it’s the living room or the conference room, I think we too often take for granted that so much of what we believe to be “true” is merely a matter of convention.  As my friend Emilie so eloquently noted, people don’t take kindly to the black sheep in the flock.  When the conventional wisdom changes the social reality of any group of people, the folks clad in dark-colored wool can only rarely use reason and logic to advocate for change, since logic — that is, the art of argument — is essentially the manipulation of fact and not fact itself.  Or:  If a “social fact” becomes the conventional wisdom, then reason alone is disadvantaged against it.

[All of this commends the written works of Robert Greene.  I have read The 48 Laws of Power and am finished with 31 of The 33 Strategies of War.  Next up is The Art of Seduction.  Each of these is written in a dispassionate, almost amoral, tone unapologetically infused with power dynamics — the very essence of the popular misconception of Machiavelli’s works — and a lack of appreciation for the literary devices pervading Greene’s work can be seen in the derogatory reviews his books sometimes receive.  Yet once you peek behind the curtain, the reader encounters some rather interesting insights into managing interpersonal relationships (seduction), group dynamics (war), and personal ambition (power).]

Taking Searle’s epistemological argument to a small-group scenario prompts ethical questions about the appropriate methods of social interaction.  We like to think that being honest, rational, and direct with people is the best policy.  Best, because most noble and most effective in the long run.  But is this necessarily true? 

If the perceptions of a group ascend to the level of social fact, then logic alone is largely incapable of changing it.  Absent logic, only indirect appeals to emotion have the power to shift perception in most people.  Granted that there are rational people who will respond well to well-reasoned arguments, it seems the case that most people remain affixed to their social facts and will only change them when the conventional wisdom shifts (we see this herd mentality with the punditocracy, for example).  So if reason doesn’t work, must we resort to emotional manipulation?

I realize that this is not a binary proposition.  Yet the logic of it does suggest that “good boy” behavior is only truly effective for those who can afford to use it.  For the rest of us, other means of ensuring success may be more strongly indicated. 

At any rate, this has been a fun topic to ponder, and I’m not finished with it yet.

Merry Christmas

Ahh, vacation.  I’ve been off work since last Thursday afternoon, not to return until the morning of Jan. 3.  Twelve whole days off (sorta … I’m still on e-mail patrol).  Not sure what I’m going to do with myself.

Christmas celebrations with the family were quite pleasant.  In all, the holidays have been pleasing.  Still a bit empty without my grandfather, but we’re adapting.

My friend Duane has a contract to get another book published.  Woo hoo!  I’m thrilled for him, and hope that more books will follow.

To all (five) of my loyal readers … merry Christmas, and a happy and profitable new year!

A Tale of Two Patients

When your life has run its course, how do you wish to face your death?

The question of mortality hit home today as I made my weekly pastoral care rounds at the hospital. The last two patients on my list were, for very different reasons, some of the most difficult patient encounters I’ve ever experienced.

The first was a woman dying of cancer. Her life support had been removed the day before, and she was simply awaiting the inevitable. She was barely conscious; she couldn’t speak, but she clearly understood what was being said to her, and she could move a little bit and turn her head toward the person speaking to her.

As I entered the room, her three daughters were gathering around the bed. I introduced myself as a lay minister with the Catholic chaplain’s office, and was greeted with heart-wrenching deference, and a simple request: The daughters wanted me to assure their mother that it was OK to die.

I spent about 20 minutes with the patient and her daughters, most of it in impromptu spiritual counseling about death. I held the patient’s hand and assured her that her children were going to be OK, that she didn’t need to worry about them any longer. I had to console weeping women who so loved their mother that they wanted nothing more than that she be free of the pain that had been wracking her body for a very long time. I had to offer prayers for a not-quite-death — supplications that offered hope in a time of great sadness.

But sometimes pastoral-care visits in a hospital will yield emotionally draining encounters. What struck me about this one was my sense (based on the conversation) that the patient’s unwillingness to die was rooted in a desperate fear of things left undone.

That experience was put in stark contrast by my next patient. I spent about 45 minutes with an 82-year-old veteran who was about to be discharged. His tranquility and his sense of gratitude about all the things he experienced in his life — as a bomber pilot in three wars, a father, a semi-pro athlete — were inspiring. He was absolutely at peace with the prospect of his own mortality; he told me he was blessed to have had so many wonderful experiences and that he had absolutely no regrets. He was ready to go, even though his hospitalization was not the end of his road. His serenity was a gut-check to my own occasional unease at my advancing age.

For myself, the experience of watching my grandfather’s terminal illness and eventual death inspired a single goal: To live a life so full, that when I arise on my 70th birthday, I can look in the mirror and honestly tell myself that I have no real regrets, nothing left undone or unsaid. Days like today reinforce that goal.

I will pray for my patients. I will also give thanks for what they’ve taught to me in the twilight of their days.

The Cadillac Club

On Friday, I had the great pleasure of spending the evening with Tony and Emilie and Jon, to celebrate Emilie and Jon’s engagement, and Tony’s safe transition from the bowels of Fundamentalism into a law practice.

We went to the Cadillac Club in Lansing, which is a converted bowling alley with a lounge singer and a dance floor. Wasn’t too bad, actually, even though the one-man show looked too much like an anorexic James Woods for my taste. And I think the ever-so-trashy waitress who stole our table from an obviously irritated co-worker wanted me to lick the whipped cream from her chest … but that’s a loooong story best not shared on a family-friendly blog.

Anyway, it’s a happy time in the lives of my friends, which in turn makes me happy. And proud of Tony and Emilie for all of their successes (and Jon for his good taste in women!).

Well, Golly

One of my favorite Dilbert strips features the Pointy-Haired Boss nattering on about change, to which Ted replies that he’s going to get a sex-change operation and move to Tibet (or something like that). Wally’s response: “I always wondered what would happen if someone listened to you.”

Over the last couple of years, I’ve identified for myself a series of long-term goals. I’ve also become a master in the art of telling people to “just do it,” except that I hadn’t paid much heed to my own advice. My own goals have gone not just unfulfilled, but even non-started.

That changed this past week. Two of my top-five list included learning a martial art and getting back into music. So I just did it.

I am now officially a student of uechi-ryu karate-do at the East West Karate Center in Grand Rapids. I really like the feel of the facility; everyone has been quite pleasant, and the shihan takes a more philosophical and goal-oriented approach to martial-arts training than other schools that emphasize tournaments or looking pretty.

I am also taking weekly piano lessons with a very friendly young lady in Grand Rapids. She teaches a much different style of music than what I’ve experienced; she focuses on theory, chords, playing by ear, and improvisation instead of the rote memorization of performance pieces. Laura and her husband seem like nice people, and I look forward to getting back into music this way.

So now I’m adding nightly piano practice and three or four hours per week in the dojo to my evening routine. I’m getting busier, but after a fairly depressing week at work, these new pursuits are lifting my spirits.

And I didn’t even need to take estrogen shots to do it. Woo hoo!

Lamentations

Facile come the words of doubt and self-loathing to those for whom miserableness is the desired state of affairs. Far harder, the discipline to change.

A handful of friends and co-workers have been wallowing in self-pity; they complain as if they had no control over their lives. The cries of “I’m not successful” or “I don’t have enough money” roll off their tongues like Dan Rather on a metaphor binge. Yet powerlessness is not virtue deserving of pity or excessive understanding — especially when it lingers.

Each person has absolute control over his own destiny. True, different people have different paths, and the choices of the past can close some doors. But there are still plenty of knobs left to turn, and sometimes entirely new corridors will come into view.

Unhappiness is curable, with a bit of determination and optimism. Love life suck? Re-examine your expectations, and change yourself to be attractive to the kind of mate you seek. Work got you down? Find a new job, or start your own company. Suffering from existential ennui? Get a therapist. Family irritating you? Be honest about what’s really going on, and either fix it or alter some relationships.

No one can make you unhappy without your consent, and your active cooperation.