two minds

I have been born with two minds - one rational where all roads are connected and lead somewhere, where there is a beginning and an end, where 2+2 is always 4, where up is up and down is down. The other, that other mind thinks in riddles and feels in circles which never end, clouds which never rain, songs which never die.

How did they ever come together, those two minds? and why? to torment each other? or to help each other navigate life's mysteries? Whatever their fuel may be, they tease each other and play games, in constant mixing and melting and molding, miming, saddening and rejoicing in an eternal gasp called life. What am I to make out of it? Well, go for a ride and write home frequently.

reminiscing

I took my last war-time trip to Croatia and Bosnia-Herzegovina in May 1994. My mother had passed on in January, my daughter started living a more normal life in Osijek, my good friend Mira had been out of the nightmare of the war for a few years now, but I still had friends and family in the city. So, I undertook this last trip meaning to visit and bring a few goodies from the outside world to those stuck in Sarajevo.

It is not hard to understand what it meant to those inside to be visited, to be assured that they were not forgotten. I visited with my cousin (I wrote a little story about that experience - "The Other Side of The Mirror"). On my way back, I boarded a military plane (I had a press pass), took off from Sarajevo airport where just a year and a half before I ran for my life under fire to get into Sarajevo and landed in Split in Croatia short 20 or so minutes later.

What caught my attention was the contrast between the two cities so close but yet so far. Sarajevo, a city under siege and fire, and Split, a city in the swing of the oncoming summer with sidewalk cafes and lightweight fun seekers basking in the afternoon sun, sipping their cappuccinos. That contrast brought home the understanding of how easy it is to ignore the suffering of others when they are not seen, not close.

Purpose - part 1

During my second year of a rigorous graduate program in the Krannert School of Management at Purdue University in late 70s, making my way through numerous contentious jousting with my fellow students while presenting cases, working on various projects, studying, taking exams, and feeling all the ups of triumphs and downs of defeats which left me feeling mostly empty, I started questioning it all with a fundamental question, what is life, and followed by even more significant question, what is the purpose of my life.

The struggles of my daily graduate student life just did not make sense to me since they only lead to more such struggles to follow during my supposed career after graduation. When I questioned the borderline brutal treatment encouraged and dished out by the faculty, I was told that it is in preparation for the "reality out there." Well, I thought I did not like that "reality out there." I just was not getting a stable satisfaction of doing what I liked to do as I thought I should. Stress seemed to be a prevalent state of being.

Thus those questions of life and my purpose in it were pushing themselves front and center, beckoning for attention. I started asking around, reading, thinking, discussing my nascent ideas with others. But, central to that process was a conviction that I must come to answers to those questions on my own, without subscribing to any existing ideology or theology, as a result of going as far and as deep as I can go with derivative questions, making sure that my conclusions maintain inner integrity and self-consistency, until such time I came to a place where I could not develop further answers. I was continuously pushing that boundary and testing my evolving system against new information.

The results are quite simple. My purpose in life is to discover and develop my distinguishing abilities to their maximum, apply them in my daily life and experience the process. Quite simple. Coincidentally, I believe that all life has that same purpose.

Now, I can take a U-turn and touch the first question – what is life.

love and fear

In addition to the purpose, interests, and rights from the other post, I also conclude that all actions are motivated by either fear or by love as the evaluation base. I would also propose that love and fear are two fundamental emotions of which all other emotions are derivatives.

purpose, interests, and rights

For a long time I thought about these and came up with the following conclusions:

• purpose of (my) life is experiencing life itself to the maximum as I fully develop and apply my specific abilities to it,
• nothing but my interests should guide my behavior, and
• there is no such thing as inalienable rights.

I know that this would surprise and even shock some of those who think they know me. I will elaborate later - it might make sense to you as well.

Death of a Butterfly

It's the "geezers day" today at New Leaf Market, my neighborhood store where they "offer an abundance of organic and local produce, natural groceries, organic wine and beer, supplements, vitamins and body care products." We, senior citizens, get a discount. So, I always go on Tuesdays to do some pick-up shopping.

Got on my bike right after work and with absolutely perfect weather I launched myself into the air, barely touching the asphalt (so I thought), feeling like flying, just like a butterfly. Smile on my face, deep breath in my lungs, happy thoughts on my mind.

Got my stuff (lettuce, a piece of organic soap, and some dinner from their hot bar), collected happily my discount and was on my way back. Oh, yes, I saw an old friend whom I had not seen at least 14, maybe 15 years. It was really nice to see her with some ancient feelings reviving there for a moment. She looked really fine. We both seemed a bit perturbed and sort of shaky in our knees by the suddenness of it all and pretended that all was well and acted really cool.

Anyway. So I got back on my bike, rode across the parking lot to the intersection, pressed the button and waited for my sign to go (I usually ride back on the sidewalk, not generally my preferred way, but really practical in this situation).

And, as I was waiting there I noticed a smallish black butterfly approach the same intersection just a few feet away from me going in the same direction. Nice. Alas, it did not read the "don't walk" sign and went merrily on to cross. I looked left and right and noticed with relief that there was not much traffic, thus making the tiny creature's crossing a real possibility.

But then, as it flutteringly and lazily crossed the median, suddenly a car came by from the right. The car was low enough to just sort of blow the little guy (maybe it was a girl, I don't know) a bit up in the air, giving him a little lift and a pause, I guess. Maybe the little fellow took another breath and said, okay, I can be on my way now.

Finally a truck got him. It flicked him up high in the air, high, high, high up in the air it flew. I though perhaps it was okay. My heart fluttered in anticipation to see the little creature continue on its way. But, it didn't. It spiraled down, down it went all the way to the hot asphalt where car after car sort of pushed him over, thrashed him left and right. My heart was starting to tremble in pain for that useless loss of innocence. I know, I know, I am projecting here, but what can I do, that's how I felt.

A few moments later it was my turn to cross. I rode over the median and saw the little creature a few yards to my left, on the asphalt, his wings up in the air, in the hot sun. His body, though, had no way to make use for those black wings with slivers of iridescent green any longer.

I continued riding my bike home slowly, subdued, thinking about life and its ways with us all. You never, ever know or understand all its mysteries. The best we can do is take every chance we get to be kind to all others and to ourselves, give away our gifts, and make best of what we got, which is not negligible if we only look around the corner and take a notice.

I am happy that you could read this.

abandonment

I am still very much distressed by the shooting in the PA gym (see the post on CNN's web site). How horrible it is for the lives to be lost so senselessly.

What got my attention, though, was the following graph in the quoted article:

"In the note found at the scene in Sodini's gym bag, he complains he had never spent a weekend with a woman, never vacationed with a woman and never lived with a woman, and that he had had limited sexual experiences, Moffatt said."

Later in the article it said how Sodini felt abandoned by the world. What a horrible state of mind that was. How was it possible that no one noticed it? And if someone did, how is it possible that no one helped out? He was apparently a church-goer yet nothing came from that direction for him either, evidently.

As a result of a man feeling so rejected and abandoned, so many other lives were so adversely affected. While nothing can remove the responsibility for this terrible act of violence from him and him alone, I can understand how easy it is for a person in this culture to feel rejected and abandoned. Luckily not everyone who feels that way resolves it the way this sorry man did.

I do feel for the families and friends of those who so tragically lost their lives in this, yet another, act of senseless violence. My heart goes to you and would have gone to Sordini had I known him before he ended it all so tragically.

Breastfeeding

It is time for my monthly musing, so here it goes.

We are so screwed up where I live. I do not remember when the last time was that I saw a woman breastfeed a baby if ever in the USA. In many other parts of the world, women breastfeed where ever they may be when the baby is hungry. There is not much more in life that is human than the act of breastfeeding a baby. Yet, somehow some consider that a case of indecent exposure, some feel uncomfortable.

What's the matter with us? Why do we get so perturbed at a sight of human female breast in public doing the natural thing? I don't get it. It boggles my mind actually. I feel sad thinking about it.

Most of all I feel sad for all the babies who do not get the benefits of breastfeeding -- the most natural and healthy food they will ever have is denied to them in their first encounter with the world.

When did I become I?

Hmmm, this one is a bit tricky. I do believe I have memories from the womb (I can explain). So, if I have (my) memories from the womb, I must have been "I" then, in the womb, before my body left my mom's (thanks mom!).

When did I become I? Must have been that I have always been I but have started using this body, which I now call mine, at some point during this body's development. Perhaps it was during conception, perhaps not, I don't quite know.

What I do know is that this body of mine has served my purpose on Earth very well so far, thank you very much.

What do you think? When did you become an "I?"

Can I be dead?

Well, no! Simply because when I die my body stops hosting an "I" - ergo, I can die but not be dead!

Michael

Whether I like him or not, Michael Jackson has been very much a part of my life with his music, his creativity, his dancing, his outrageousness, his courage to do what he wanted to do, and to continuously re-create himself. I salute your life, Michael! You have left a mark on my life and on our times.

Happiness

The other day someone asked what happiness was. So I thought I'd write about it a bit.

Wikipedia says that "Happiness is a state of mind or feeling such as contentment, satisfaction, pleasure, or joy".

Merriam-Webster says that it is "a: a state of well-being and contentment : joy b: a pleasurable or satisfying experience."

All very nice but largely overblown and useless definitions. So what is it to me, I though. At the end of the day, happiness comes from knowing that I have fulfilled or am fulfilling my life's purpose.