You may have caught on: I’m a worrier. I think a lot; I emote a lot. Not that I’m really obsessive, but perhaps there’s a tendency in that direction?

And, I’m a planner: organized and always thinking ahead.

These various elements of my personality seem to collide, in that it’s not a stretch for me to go, in my mind, to “catastrophizing,” that is, thinking about the future and saying to myself “this has disaster written all over it.”

I have an uncertain job situation. I have an infection. I have a muscular or nerve issue in my leg. I have a life alone. I spend all my “free time” trying to find a job. I have trouble sleeping. I need prostate surgery. I don’t have time to pursue my art.

Oh, my, I guess I could keep going…you get the picture, though: worry, worry, worry! (or, maybe: whine, whine, whine?)

Where’s the room for happiness in all that?

When I was about to lose my position with the Chancellor’s Office,  a good friend asked me once, “well, what’s the worst that could happen?” Of course, I went straight to catastrophe and saw myself homeless, on a street corner, holding a cardboard sign saying “WILL ORGANIZE THINGS FOR FOOD.”

There’s a lot of uncertainty in my future right now. But, of course, isn’t there uncertainty in everyone’s? I just read that two tornadoes hit New Orleans today! Yikes! What in the world is going on?

I guess, really, no one here gets out alive.

But the question remains a good one. “What’s the worst?” Here’s where I think the question has its origin:

When some misfortune threatens, consider seriously and deliberately what is the very worst that could possibly happen. Having looked this possible misfortune in the face, give yourself sound reasons for thinking that after all it would be no such terrible disaster. Such reasons always exist, since at the worst nothing that happens to oneself has any cosmic importance. When you have looked for some time steadily at the worst possibility and have said to yourself with real conviction, “well, after all, that would not matter so very much,” you will find that your worry diminishes to a quite extraordinary extent. It may be necessary to repeat the process a few times, but in the end, if you have shirked nothing in facing the worst possible issue, you will find that your worry disappears altogether and is replaced by a kind of exhilaration.

Bertrand Russell
The Conquest of Happiness

As I continue the path to wellness: I spent the morning at the doctor’s office and pharmacy. The best guess is that my viral infection has morphed into bacterial. I’m currently on antibiotics and a cough-supressant. Now we’ll see what happens!

After I got home, I opened up the Messiah’s Handbook to see if there was any new wisdom for me there today. The first thing that appeared (though I did a little shopping around on other pages later, not knowing what to make of this one at first) was:

How easy it is to be compassionate
when it’s yourself you see in trouble!

So, let me think about this a minute. Well, OK, I actually do see myself in some trouble. My position at work is a temporary one, and I’m feeling very insecure about that. I’ve been quite ill lately, and along with that, an emotional downturn certainly has me seeing the glass half-empty. I keep interviewing for jobs, and not getting them. And, I’ve felt some loneliness in the last year that has rarely crept up on me like this.

The question now is: has it been easy for me to be compassionate? Just because it’s me? Really, I’m not sure how compassionate I have been with myself. I possess an often self-critical tendency that does not necessarily seem consistent with compassion. Perhaps the lesson for the day is to focus more on self-love and acceptance.

I’ve been lying around here like a lump on this incredibly grey and wet day here in Portland, feeling blue and lethargic. It’s one of those seasonal-affective-disorder days, to be sure. Amid all this darkness, I’m finding it difficult to find some semblance of light. (Literally or figuratively.) The Carly Simon lyrics go through my head:

Sufferin’ was the only thing made me feel I was alive
Thought that’s just how much it cost to survive in this world
(“Haven’t Got Time for the Pain” - 1974) 

 As I was sitting here at the computer earlier this morning, toying with ideas for what to write about today, an email came in from one of my new blog readers. It was a brief message, wishing me well. “My most heartfelt hope and prayer for you for 2006, besides transition to a wonderful job in a location that you love, is freedom and release,” she (“C”) says.

Freedom & release. I’m thinking that C just might understand a little bit of what I’ve talked about here in these pages: for example, that I’m in Zwischenraum, literally “the space between things.” In love and work, I’ve been let go and am stranded in a lifeboat between two islands: having left both, not knowing my destination in either. And, she apparently understands my discussion of psychic prisons: the sense that I am still the prisoner, even though I’ve left the cave. I have not yet thrown off the chains because I’m being blinded by the light outside, fearful of the unknown, and paralyzed by the number of choices I have. When C and I were together, I was quite attached to my interpretation of the shadows on the cave wall. My life, thought to be on course, was dramatically altered by rejection, both personally and professionally. Yes, I have been freed and released; now it’s up to me to find freedom and release.

So, I turn to Richard Bach and the Messiah’s Handbook. As you’ll recall from Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah, one merely needs to open this book up to a random (unnumbered) page, and the answer to your question is there. Today, as I’m ruminating over my life’s issues, I read:

“The only way to win, sometimes, is to surrender.” 

Which, of course, is exactly right. As I was thinking about the Carly Simon lyrics and “sufferin’,” I was also pondering the first two of the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism.

1. Life means suffering. To live means to suffer, because the human nature is not perfect and neither is the world we live in. During our lifetime, we inevitably have to endure physical suffering such as pain, sickness, injury, tiredness, old age, and eventually death; and we have to endure psychological suffering like sadness, fear, frustration, disappointment, and depression. We are never able to keep permanently what we strive for, and just as happy moments pass by, we ourselves and our loved ones will pass away one day.

2. The origin of suffering is attachment. The origin of suffering is attachment to transient things and the ignorance thereof. The reasons for suffering are desire, passion, ardor, pursue of wealth and prestige, striving for fame and popularity, or in short: craving and clinging . Because the objects of our attachment are transient, their loss is inevitable, thus suffering will necessarily follow. Objects of attachment also include the idea of a “self” which is a delusion, because there is no abiding self. What we call “self” is just an imagined entity, and we are merely a part of the ceaseless becoming of the universe.

I admit attachment to certain models of the universe. I was attached to living in Eugene, doing a job that I knew and did well, and was comfortable in. And, I was very attached to a model of a relationship that existed, apparently only on the cave wall. What I “knew” was not “truth.” Attachment to both of those models of the world has caused, and still causes, me much suffering. The most healthy thing I could do is to surrender to the universe, define it as “all perfect” and make a new life for myself.

I am trying.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
(“Serenity Prayer,” Reinhold Neibuhr — 1926)

I optimistically reported an energy “surge” yesterday. That has turned into an energy trough today. Sigh.
 
Ah, the ebb and flow of my life…the story continues.

A week ago, I reported on overwhelming feelings of sadness in the aftermath of some deep-tissue work on my legs. I’ve also discussed, within these entries, feelings of rejection, heartbreak and loss with respect to past relationships. Authenticity, trust and the meaning of the human experience are also topics I’ve taken on. I realize that the discussion of these, and similar, themes, are likely to continue. Examining my emotional state, awareness of my physical self, exploring spirituality and existential questions are part of the fabric of my life; I write what I know (or think I do) and ask questions as they occur to me.

But: what, exactly , am I doing this for? What is this blog about?

The simple answer, I guess: my own therapy. I write because writing is what I do. I write because it provides an outlet for thoughts and emotions I don’t have any other place for. And this particular venue gives me a place to share, should anyone self-select into my online world.

But, in writing about myself, I sometimes need to make reference to others. I said in a recent email to ya’ll that “…given that you’re in my life, it’s possible that you could end up being mentioned at some point. If that happens, I hope I respect your privacy and feelings appropriately.”

This means I’ve been doing some serious thinking about blogger ethics. Can I be true to myself, talk honestly about my experience, and still, at all times, treat others fairly and decently? I surely have no outright intention of embarrassing, attacking, angering or hurting you. So: I’ve been asking: what is the “right” way to go about this blogging business, anyway (at least in terms of a personal-experience blog like mine)?

Some thinking has gone into this subject already, of course. I’m not the first to be pondering the ethical treatment of fellow humans within this communication medium. A bloggers’ code of ethics has even been proposed.

I have explored this topic, albeit somewhat superficially, with a colleague I went to graduate school with. Although currently not a blogger himself, he is interested in my attempt here — and he’s an educational researcher with keen awareness of confidentiality issues and the possibility of “harm” to participants in research studies. In terms of the kind of human interplay that is blogging, he opines that:

…we have to remember that this ain’t research!!!! It’s public, democratic, open-sourced, put it out there and see who takes a whack at it discourse.

This goes to my own sense of a communitarian, dialogical reality (put that in your blog and float it). That is, we live in a world where very little is private, even though we value privacy above much else. Privacy is negotiated, just like everything else. And a writer (blogger) has to make his/her own decisions about what s/he can live with if somebody else gets a feeling hurt.

Well, that gives me something to think about.

Now, I don’t have any tremendous insights or answers that I can share with you here today. All I can say is that I continue to think about the potential impact my public words might have on my fellow human beings. And I absolutely intend to do everything in my power to respect others’ feelings and their right to privacy.

Do you remember that previous post of mine when I made a passing mention to Play-Doh? Well, I received an email at my work address this morning, saying:

I came across your email and post on the internet. I am looking for someone who can teach me to make Silly Putty. Have you or can you make Silly Putty? Or, do you have someone on your staff who would be interested? I live here in Portland. I am an independent inventor and … [a] device I am working on requires that I produce a viscoelastic polymer (silly putty) type compound.

What is with this guy?

I wrote back:

Are you by any chance referring to the post on my blog where I talked about Play-Doh?
Just so you know, that website is my private blog, and is in no way associated with this email address or my duties at the college. And, if this is really a serious inquiry (which I have a difficult time believing it is): no, I don' have any knowledge of, or interest in, making Silly Putty.

I am finding it curious that he apparently read some of this blog, and totally misconstrued the essence of the little essay I wrote. Either that, or today I have been the victim of a random Silly Putty spam message! But, why in the world would he track me down at work – and/or think that a Dean of Science & Technology would have any professional interest in Silly Putty? Very strange.

I’ll just call him The Silly Putty Stalker.

Now, here’s a report of one person’s response to my mass emailing last weekend regarding the existence of this blog. The message I received back was to comment neither on blog-entry content nor writing style, but rather to provide a very long (826 words) rambling reaction to the fact that I once mentioned the Evolutionblog (identified as “commentary on developments in the endless dispute between evolution and creationism”).

Now, why pick on me for that?

Of course, I’m sure I’m being challenged because that blog is pro-evolution, and basically critical of those concepts identified as “creationism” or “intelligent design.” So, there’s a little guilt by association going on here: which happens to be totally warranted in this case.

My position on these matters is quite simple. Believe what you want. Go ahead. It’s a free country (well, more or less). But, please, let’s keep science in the science classroom, and allow those other ideas (which are not scientific theories, but rather alternate belief systems of some kind) to be addressed elsewhere. I’d even allow discussion in other kinds of classrooms (philosophy? religion?), but…

Intelligent Design is: Absolutely. Not. Science.