Death happens, and as I watched as the ambulance carry away the woman who had just suffered a head-on collision, I couldn’t help but reflect on the unpredictability of life. Imagining my own sudden death, I began to ponder the implications, including what would happen to this website. How would readers ever know? Would it seem as if I had just stopped posting? But perhaps most important that I reflected on: Was I able to convey my message? What things would I have wanted to shout out to the world that perhaps I hadn’t yet?

So today, I’m going to imagine as if this were my last post. What’s the big picture here? What do I truly hope that readers take from all of this?

Some of my more recent posts have focused heavily on big, philosophical questions, which I’ve brought up because I feel it’s important to examine unconventional perspectives and subsequently prompt critical thinking. The reason why I think critical thinking is so important, is because I believe that in doing so, we are essentially giving ourselves choices. Choices to think in other ways. Choices to see beyond the horizon. Choices to take alternative perspectives. Choices as to what we believe, and the ability to cite why–not simply “just because”–and in doing so, enable us to choose who we want to be.

And, isn’t the ability to be who we want to be–not just some version of who everyone else is–worth taking the time to consider?

That said, at the end of the day there comes a certain point in which it can become counterproductive to engage in too many debates that may or may not ever result in an answer. That’s not to imply that there isn’t value in the debate itself, but simply that sometimes, there’s more value in getting out there and taking life by the lapel–by fully engaging with the world around us–instead of philosophizing about it from behind a computer screen. In doing so, we naturally live our way into our own philosophies through experience, which is far more meaningful than anything I could ever say here.

And that’s what this is all about. LIVING. In the end, we’re only here for a limited time, and while we all seem to recognize this as a fact, most of us don’t seem to actually consider the implications–likely because it puts pressure on us. It puts pressure on us to act. And pressure stresses us out, so we avoid it.  On the other hand, by ignoring the harsh truthfulness of this statement, it’s easier to justify being apathetic & unconcerned, and become reactive instead of proactive, passively accepting mediocre days that eventually turn into a mediocre years that can eventually turn into a mediocre lifetime. Because we figure that there’s always tomorrow, always next week, always next month, or next year. But there isn’t always going to be. And then we will have died, having just gone through the motions and doing everything everyone else wanted us to do, but nothing we wanted to do. Nothing that truly lights us up inside. We will have made choices based on majority rules, or because everyone else was doing it. And despite the urge to do something exceptional, we figure that it must not be realistic, or else, why wouldn’t everyone be doing it? So we settle. We accept. We concede. And sure, we survive. But is that all we have to hope for? To just survive?

There’s just too many experiences to be had, too many connections to be made, too many memories to be formed, too many beautiful sights to witness and too many moments that have the potential to truly make us come alive. Living through experiences is what makes us actually alive; living through established tradition, on the other hand, is what results in just a life.  Live alive, not just a life.

That said, I’m going to lead the list with that. Here’s to messages that are important to me to communicate, and are the reason that I began this site in the first place:

1. True living is more than just keeping your heart beating and a roof over your head. Don’t fool yourself into thinking that is “just how life goes.” There’s way more possibilities, and, yes, IT IS WORTH GOING AFTER. Be daring.

2. Stop blowing yourself off; we get so upset when others blow off our ideas and desires, but we have no problem doing it to ourselves. Take your ideas, feelings, wants, wishes, yearns & urges seriously–those are your only true guide. Other people have no idea what’s best for you, so stop seeking their validation. Do what you need to do for you. Be confident.

3. Stop doing everything by the book. It’s time to start drafting your own revised edition. Rules don’t always exist in the name of the greatest good; more often than not, they exist because someone wants to establish or maintain power. And that’s just not a good enough reason. Be inquisitive.

4. Life is a series of choices. You choose every single direction that your life takes. Use it to your advantage. Be deliberate.

5. There will be people out there who won’t support what you’re doing. Who cares. Trust yourself more, trust others less. That includes significant others. Be brave.

6. Figure out what you value, and make the necessary changes to align your life with those values. If you value time more than money, stop working 60 hour work weeks. The only way you’ll get more time, is by doing less. It’s simple math. Be introspective.

7. Speaking of money, IT ISN’T AS IMPORTANT AS WE’RE TAUGHT TO THINK IT IS. Money comes, and money goes, and it provides little value itself until you actually exchange it for something that is valuable to you. So, ask yourself that question. What do you value? That’s where the majority of the money you spend should be going. Be prudent.

8. Having good intentions doesn’t yield results. Get off your ass and make it happen. Be zealous.

9. Life isn’t meant to be taken so seriously. In the scheme of things, if you’re going to be late to work, it doesn’t really matter. If you don’t get an A, it doesn’t really matter. If you’re proven wrong about something, it doesn’t really matter. If your house isn’t as nice as your best friend’s, it doesn’t really matter. Relax, and enjoy the ride. Think big picture, not details. Will this matter in 100 years? Be panoramic.

10. The world is not judging you as much as you think they are. Most people are too wrapped up in themselves to even notice what you’re doing. Drop the pride and have a little fun. Be lighthearted.

11. Perhaps one of the greatest goals we can seek for ourselves is exhilaration. Are you exhilarated by your life? Be stimulated.

12. When making decisions, always ask what’s more important. Thinking about canceling on an invitation to a friend’s baby shower or birthday party because you have too much work to do? Get your head out of your ass. Your friend is more important; work can always be done later. Nothing is that urgent. Relationships, however, are your foundation and you’d be lost without other human connections, so value them. And show it. Be thoughtful.

13. You don’t just need to love yourself; you need to respect yourself. You’ll garner that respect by accomplishing things you’ve set out to do. Be relentless.

14. Being content with your life and being proud to call it yours are two different things. Strive for the latter. Be courageous.

15. Last but not least, wine should be drank with meals. Preferably Argentinian Malbec. It’s freaking delicious. Be delighted.

Fortunately, I am not dead, and this is not my last post.  Unfortunately, I’m out of Malbec.  With that, I’m off to go put #8 into practice.

Have you got any to add to the list?  Let’s pool our collective knowledge and share some wisdom–humorous additions welcome.

If you liked that jazz. . .check out some of these:

• All Wants Are Not Created Equal (52)
• Hula Hoop Contest 2010! (6)
• Perhaps The Preamble Should Read: We, The Robots. (Prove That You Aren’t, And Win $100) (42)
• Surprise Yacht Party, And You’re Invited. (Bring Your Dancing Shoes) (13)
• Your Language Is Holding You Hostage (And Why I’ll Be Flying Obama’s Private Jet As A Result) (72)

Between some deep thought, some Ayn Rand and more Vienna Fingers than I really should have consumed, this, friends, is my conclusion:   USA?  We’ve got some issues, yo.

It all started way back when, say 3 days ago, I was furiously writing in the notebook that I keep with me in the car and–yes–might have been guilty of scribbling while driving.  I know, you don’t have to say it.  That is a bad idea.  Admittedly, they should probably administer DUIs for this.

In any event, I was surely on the brink of having a head-on collision as my gel pen & I deliberated over the notion of guilt, our nation, religion, capitalism, and whether or not Fergie’s ass really doesn’t have any cellulite on it, or if it’s the tights.  For the record and in the name of my self-esteem, I prefer to believe the latter.

ANYWAY…

The Unfortunate Role Guilt Plays In Our Lives

Supposedly, we’re this great nation of freedom & liberty, but it seems that realistically, we’re actually some of the most frightened cowards on the planet.  Was that too straightforward?  Let me try again.

There’s no denying our freedom and liberty in terms of politics & capitalistic opportunity–in short, as a society.  As a nation, we’re some of the baddest, raddest cowboys around.  On a large scale, we’re all sorts of free.  That is, until Janet Jackson and Justin Timberlake get together, in which case freedom is explicitly frowned upon.  Silly nudity.

On the flip side, however, what concerns me is that these same principles don’t apply on a humanistic level; as individual citizens, we aren’t free in the least.  While slavery in the U.S. has been technically abolished since 1865, it exists in other forms, and regrettably, our lifestyle reflects that.  The truth is, many of us are slaves to our own guilty conscience, which may not always be the most accurate barometer.

In effect, we make decisions based on what we “should” do in line with our guilty conscience (which, if I may point out, in this context is not referring what you “should” do by your own personal moral standards, but what you “should” do as a function of societal pressures to be, act, live a certain way).  Ultimately, our entire lives are characterized by decisions born from guilt, essentially transforming guilt into a tool that plays the role of compass.  While we’re on the topic, this is fundamentally how religion operates–by providing us with a set list of consequences for certain behavior, it’s easy to control large groups of people by capitalizing on their guilty consciences.  But, I digress.

The point here is that oftentimes, we aren’t these fearless rebels like we’re made out to be.  We’re terrified to move outside of what’s commonly accepted.

Ayn, Ashley & Altruism–And How It Relates Back to Guilt

So, back to my girl Ayn.  She talks a lot about our social system being based on an altruistic code of morality, in which it’s perpetuated that self-service is our highest moral duty, virtue and value.  In saying that, she cautions about not hiding behind superficialities as to whether you should or shouldn’t give a dime to a beggar, and claims that the issue isn’t whether or not you give the beggar the dime, but whether you do or do not have the right to peacefully exist without giving him that dime.  The issue is whether or not the needs of others is the moral purpose of your existence.  Altruism answers yes.  Our society answers yes.

The question becomes as simple as one little word:  Why?  Why must man live for the sake of others?  Why must we sacrifice ourselves in order to be deemed worthy?  Why is it moral to serve the happiness of others, but not your own?

Rand’s answer?  Mysticism.  The unearthly, the supernatural and the irrational is called upon to justify it–or, more appropriate, as Rand states, to escape the necessity of justification.  My answer?  Altruism, in its purest form, doesn’t exist in the first place, and there’s a hidden benefit in doing seemingly selfless work such as volunteering, which is the feel-good feeling that one receives in return.  Therefore, we aren’t really living for the sake of others, as it may appear.  More on that in another post.

To get down to business, here’s the issue that plagues us without us even knowing it:  While society answers yes to altruism, its systems answer no.  Our system of capitalism is defined by individual profit motive, whose values stand in stark opposition to our altruistic societal ideals.   Talk about a mind %$#.

Now let’s really get wild and juxtapose that with another fun factor.  According to the American Religious Identification Survey of 2008, 76% of the population identified themselves as Christians.   34% of them considered themselves “Born Again” or “Evangelical Christians.”  That terrifies me for so many reasons, but I’m not going there today.  The point is that it’s reasonable to claim that 76% of the population, by default, maintains an altruistic philosophy.

Big, Bad Conclusions

So what the hell does all of that mean?  What it means is that we have is a bunch of altruists living in a capitalistic society.  Is it any wonder why our nation is plagued with guilt?  Essentially, we’ve got one force badgering us to be capitalists–which emphasizes individual gain–and another force badgering us to be altruists–which emphasizes individual sacrifice. Does this call for some mad eenie meenie miney mo, or what?  Therefore, it’s nearly impossible not to make a decision based on guilt, because either way you cut the cake, you’re still alienating one in favor of the other.

In the end, I can’t help but believe that this serves as further support for a call for critical thinking, and the ability to deconstruct one’s realities, analyze them and then use those conclusions to serve as one’s compass.  Perhaps then, we won’t be guilted into life, but rather, will start actually living it.

Oh yeah, and one last thing.  For the record?  I don’t need tights.

Thoughts on this?  Think Rand’s way off?  Think I am?  I welcome you to contribute to the conversation.

If you liked that jazz. . .check out some of these:

• Perhaps The Preamble Should Read: We, The Robots. (Prove That You Aren’t, And Win $100) (42)
• Your Language Is Holding You Hostage (And Why I’ll Be Flying Obama’s Private Jet As A Result) (72)
• Red High Heels, Slaughtered Pigs & Why Being Unsure Is A Good Thing (26)
• Tired of Having A Neverending To-Do List? Use It To Your Advantage (48)
• Why Seeking A Meaningful Career Is Bad Advice (50)

So, I’m usually not a big fan of dichotomies.  When it comes to black & white, I’m all sorts of shades of grey–maybe with a splash of red–and I’m happy with that.  It’s flexible.  It allows me to grow.  It allows me the benefit of perspective.  It allows me the freedom to be me without having to box myself into arbitrary categories.  I’m not a definitive anything, but rather, a broad everything, and the wide different types of friends I have reflect that.  This is also an advantage when it comes to dating–sarcastic guys, soulful guys, athletic guys, artistic guys . . . a prime example of why it’s not good to pigeon-hole oneself.

That said, let me go right ahead and contradict everything I just said.  In life, there is one distinct dichotomy that plainly exists:

STUFF YOU WANT TO DO

vs

STUFF YOU DON’T WANT TO DO

When it comes to this, the only grey area that exists is in the form of doubts.  Uncertainties.  Insecurities.  The cursed what-ifs.  Yet beyond those anxieties, it’s actually entirely possible to determine what it is you want, versus what you don’t.  Let’s be real for a second–if you’re honest enough with yourself, identifying what you want isn’t that difficult of a task.  That’s not the real issue.  What is difficult, however, comes not in determining what you want, but rather, in determining what you want most, when one thing you desire conflicts with another thing you desire.  It’s a simple matter of logistics.

This is when priorities come into play.  I’m not going to drone on about priorities and planning and values and all that happy horseshit, but I am going to outline how I prioritize my wants–particularly when it comes to big, life-changing decisions.  Maybe this will be useful to you, too.

So, let’s say you’ve got a laundry list of stuff that you want to do, which is where we’re going to focus our attention.  Forget about stuff you don’t want to do–if you don’t want to do it, I don’t think you should, and it’s as simple as that.  I tend to take a strong stance on that, which can prompt debate among those that are staunchly adamant about honoring obligations and things of that sort, but to me, most obligations are nothing more than a form of manipulative guilt and, man can that get messy.  I prefer to act based on what type of impact my action will have, rather than merely acting because some unspoken rule dictates that I’m “suppose to.”

So, your laundry list of stuff that you want to do.  Have you got it in mind?  Is it to make a million bucks?  To travel the world?  To learn a new language?  To climb Mount Everest?  To finally bake something without burning it?  To wear a pink tie without feeling like a girl?  To lose 20 pounds?  To save enough money to buy a new car?  To retire early?  To become a doctor?  To have a family?  To become an international makeout bandit?  (Gee, I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head with that goal.  Wink.)

Whatever your wants may be, take each one and try to put it one of the following categories:

Stuff you want to do because you genuinely want to do it.  (e.g.  You’d do it for no other reason than to derive pleasure out of it)

Stuff you want to do because it’ll yield a favorable reward/outcome/financial gain. (e.g.  You do it for the money, baby)

Stuff you want to do in order to avoid an internal conflict/consequence. (e.g. You do it so you don’t feel guilty later.)

Stuff you want to do in order to avoid an external conflict/consequence. (e.g. You do it so you don’t have an argument with significant other/parents)

Got your wants filed appropriately?  Good.  Now, for the big, giant, top-secret formula for prioritizing.  This is some really complicated math, so lookout.  Ready?

Scrape everything except for the first category, and make those your damn priorities.  That’s an order.  This is one life you get–there’s no redos–so you better be enjoying this shit.  If you’re not, what’s the point?

If, however, you’re looking for a more scientific reason on why you should be paying the most attention to the first category, it’s because it’s the only type of want that’s based on intrinsic motivation–the rest are all extrinsic motivators.  Intrinsic motivation comes from rewards that are inherent to the activity.  Extrinsic motivation comes from rewards from outside sources.  It might be tempting to consider the third category–stuff you want to do to avoid internal conflict–as an intrinsic motivator, but essentially since most feelings like guilt are based on social constructs (society defines for you what you should feel guilty about, and you internalize it and then feel those feelings when it’s been dictated that you should), then that’s actually an extrinsic factor.

So what’s the big deal about intrinsic versus extrinsic?  Well, research shows that over time, extrinsic motivators undermine intrinsic ones.  Therefore, the more you rely on extrinsic factors for motivation, the less and less you value doing something purely for the inherent pleasure involved.  And the less you value doing something purely for the inherent pleasure involved, the less you’re likely to do it.  And the less you likely to do it, the less pleasure you’ll have.  And the less pleasure you have?  Well, do I really need to keep spelling this out?

You don’t want life to become based on a series of meaningless, arbitrarily defined benchmarks, and nothing that truly inspires you or makes you get all giddy inside.  Point blank.  So while it’s easy enough to say, “Go do what it is that you want in life,” the caveat is that it’s crucial to evaluate the purposes behind your choices in order to best determine what YOU ACTUALLY WANT, versus what you’re obligating yourself to want.  Indeed, there is a difference and, indeed, it’s an important one.

If you liked that jazz. . .check out some of these:

• Hula Hoop Contest 2010! (6)
• Perhaps The Preamble Should Read: We, The Robots. (Prove That You Aren’t, And Win $100) (42)
• Surprise Yacht Party, And You’re Invited. (Bring Your Dancing Shoes) (13)
• Your Language Is Holding You Hostage (And Why I’ll Be Flying Obama’s Private Jet As A Result) (72)
• Education & Wage Slavery: Hand In Hand? (82)

In my last post, I discussed the effects of socialization and cited an example of a girl who I see hula hooping on the university campus where I’m completing my graduate work.  She hasn’t got a care in the world, and I found her to be so refreshing, that I’ve gone ahead and initiated a hula hoop video contest.  You can read the original post here.

Think you’ve got the guts?  Here’s the deal:

To enter the contest, you must videotape yourself hula hooping in a public place where hula hooping wouldn’t normally occur.  That’s it!  Once all submissions are in, I’ll post all entries to this site, and readers will vote on the video featuring the most creative public place. The first prize winner will receive $100 cash (we’re scraping the massage idea in favor of loot), the second prize $50 and the third prize $25.

The goal here is to stop taking ourselves so seriously, move outside of our comfort zones, and get out there and have a little fun, as a way to promote the broader themes of unconventionality & independent thought . . . and maybe make a little extra cash to go have a few beers afterward!  Whatdya say?  Can you put your pride on the line in order to make a statement?

Here, dear friends, are the official rules:

1.  The public location selected must contain people–ideally a crowd, but not necessarily as long as there are strangers witnessing your hoop action–and should be a location where hula hooping wouldn’t normally take place.  Be as creative as possible.  Some suggestions that have been thrown out already are:  In a supermarket, in the middle of a busy sidewalk, at the post office, in the bar, etc.

2.  Video submissions should be from 1-3 minutes in length.  (You don’t have to keep it in the air that long!)

3.  Send all submissions to ash [at] themiddlefingerproject [dot] org.  In the body of the email, please include your full name, location (city/state/country), and an email address where you can be reached.

4.  A Paypal account will be required to receive prize money.

5.  No entries from those under the age of 18.  (Sorry!)

6.  The deadline to submit your video is March 22nd, 2010.  Winners will be announced no later than March 31st, 2010.

Feel free to contact me at the email address listed above with any questions.  Best of luck everyone!  Have fun!

If you liked that jazz. . .check out some of these:

• Perhaps The Preamble Should Read: We, The Robots. (Prove That You Aren’t, And Win $100) (42)
• All Wants Are Not Created Equal (52)
• Surprise Yacht Party, And You’re Invited. (Bring Your Dancing Shoes) (13)
• Your Language Is Holding You Hostage (And Why I’ll Be Flying Obama’s Private Jet As A Result) (72)
• Education & Wage Slavery: Hand In Hand? (82)

The Girl In The Photo

See that girl?  She’s got long, brown wavy hair, and a collection of freckles that further intensify her sense of childlike innocence that’s so clearly evident in the way she moves.  White earbuds dangle down the side of her face, and I take pleasure in imagining that she’s listening to Avril Lavigne, or Pink, or someone equally as gusty and fierce that I probably haven’t heard of.  Actually, I’m certain it’s the latter, because this girl is one of those girls that just exudes uber-coolness, and uber-cool people always know all about the other uber-cool people–especially when it comes to music.

There’s a reason for my infatuation with this earth-goddess, racerback tank-wearing, leather bracelet-donning, pop punk rocker, and that reason can be summed up in two words:   hula hoop.

I’ve seen her three times now; she appears on campus at the university where I’m completing my graduate work.  She hasn’t got a care in the world, as her and her iPod jam out in the middle of an uninhabited patch of grass, her hips gyrating to the beat of the music, as she hula hoops around and around in endless circles.  Passersby heading to their next class look on in amazement, and I hear them snicker amongst their circle of friends, calling my sweet earth-goddess pop punk rocker names like crazy, insane, psychotic, and wacky. They ridicule, scorn, sneer and laugh with contempt.   While the fact that she’s wearing a racerback tank top in the dead of winter in Pennsylvania is, perhaps, questionable, as much as they mock her, I think they’re all secretly green with envy of her bold confidence.  I know I am.

You Can’t Hula Hoop In Public! *Gasp*

You see, for some reason, the fact that she’s hula hooping in the middle of campus is somehow considered wrong, against the rules.   It’s not considered “socially acceptable behavior,” and as such, is condemned, judged, and scrutinized.  It’s weird, and it makes us uncomfortable.  To cope with our discomfort, we label her a host of undesirable things.  She must be those things.  After all, we would never hula hoop in the middle of campus all by ourselves, and we’re the normal ones.   Scoff, scoff.

Now imagine for a moment that instead of my earth-goddess, it was a little girl out there hula hooping in the grass, be-bopping around to the rhythm of the music.  Her hair flies wild in the wind, and her cheeks are rosy with life.   Passersby–you, me, everyone–would look at the little girl and be filled with a warm sense of nostalgia.  We’d appreciate and admire her youthful vibrance and untainted purity.  We’d look on and think to ourselves, Oh, to be young again.

At what point do we cross over?  At what point does it become unacceptable to be young and carefree?  At what point do we become uptight, guarded and judgmental?  And more importantly, why?

Socialization Irks Me

It seems that the socialization process is to blame for my inability to hula hoop in public, or skip down the hallway of a corporate office building, or grab the cute guy standing behind me in line and lay one on ‘em. (That is, my inability to do so without it seeming extremely strange.)  Socialization–the inheritance of the norms, customs, values of a culture–is an ongoing process that starts at birth, and usually regarded as a positive transformation that teaches new members of society how to be, well, members of their society.  It prepares individuals for the roles they are to play, for example, their gender role, and shows us how to participate “successfully” in society.  And while that may be good and nice and even useful in some arenas, in the arena of my own personal growth and the free-spirited, carefree Ashley that I am, it’s damn stifling.  Socialization is nothing more than a big, fancy synonym for “fitting-in,” and in case you couldn’t tell…me and fitting-in don’t always play nicely together.

Let me run down a fun little list of some of the goals of the socialization process:

1. Impulse control. In other words, the cute guy behind me in line is out of the question.  I don’t like this already.

2. Development of a conscience. Wait, I thought we had religion for that?   You mean to tell me that there’s other factors that actually determine whether or not you eat puppies for dinner?  That’s a relief–I was wondering why I didn’t do that.

3. Cultivation of sources of meaning, i.e. what is liked, what is valued. He-llo, money-is-my-everything-and-on-which-I-base-my-self-esteem.  (By the way, stop doing that already.)

4. Preparation of humans to function socially. Yeah, we really don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable around here.  Don’t rock the boat.

It is just me, or does the idea of being taught what to feel and when (sad when people die, fake happy when people get the job that you wanted, sexy when you fit into a size 4), and essentially learning what you’re suppose to be really, really creepy?

If we’re constantly living our lives based on a predetermined set of rules–emotional responses, gender roles, etc.–then how can we ever know who we really are?  How can we ever know what’s natural?   Is life just a series of fabricated obligations?  Are we just a series of fabricated obligations?  Are we really alive, or just living by the rules?

Ashley Rant

I don’t particularly care for hard and fast rules when it comes to being a human being.  We live and die by what’s “socially acceptable,” and we socialize ourselves right into submissiveness–not submissiveness to society, but rather submissiveness to ourselves.  We suppress urges.  We muffle feelings.  We smother instinct.  We stifle sensuality.  We trample our senses.  And we put a big, giant Stone Cold Steve Austin choke hold on spontaneity.  Instead, we’re a bunch of cold, unfeeling, desensitized, devastatingly inhibited creatures.   And that sucks.

I’m blatantly heartbroken by the university professor who uses his/her status as an excuse for acting like a condescending jackass.  I don’t care where you got your Ph.D. from; you’re still a human being and–surprise!–so am I.

I’m thoroughly saddened by the doctor who is too busy to answer a scared, anxious, dying patient’s questions.   Who’s actually more important in this scenario?  Apparently, the doctor thinks its him/herself, which is a conflict of interest.

And I’m maddenly distraught by the hundreds and thousands of everyday citizens who look away from the homeless person, because offering them an innocent smile and, perhaps, just a glimmer of compassion, would be too much to ask.  We’re deathly afraid they’re going to ask us for money, and then we’ll have to feel guilty for denying them it.   After all, it’s all about us and our feelings.

All of these scenarios are dehumanizing, and I’m tired of watching people’s actions reflect their manufactured “roles” in society, instead of reflecting their roles as a human being.

When are we going to realize that human connections are truly all we’ve got, and we should be nourishing them, instead of discouraging them in order to feed our individual ego?   Let’s be honest with ourselves–in the grand scheme of things, I’m not all that important.   And you’re not all that important, either.   And it’s about time that we drop the act.

Be real with yourself.  Be real with others.   Be silly.  Be uninhibited.  Be free.  Be the earth goddess, racerback tank-wearing, leather bracelet-donning, pop punk rocker.   Be you.   And most importantly, be a human being–not just a representation of one.

The Contest

Here’s your first opportunity to do so:

Go buy yourself a hula hoop, because you’re going to need it in order to videotape yourself hula hooping in a public place, which you will then send to me.  What?

Yes, that’s right.  I’m initiating a contest–the person who hula hoops in the most creative public place, and videotapes themselves doing so, wins the prize.  What’s that, you ask?  Well, it’s $100 for the first place winner, $50 for the second place winner and $25 for third place–voted on by the readers!  The deadline is March 22nd–one month from today–at which point I’ll post a video montage of all submitted entries on The Middle Finger Project. The vote will take place, and winners will be announced no later than March 31st.  For official rules, click here.  What are you waiting for?  Get out there, shed some of your inhibitions, and have a damn good laugh at yourself.  And then score some cash, you animal!

Okay. Ready? On your mark. Get set. GO!  Send all entries to ash @ themiddlefingerproject.org.  But shucks, don’t put the spaces in there.  Deal?

P.S. Please don’t throw out your back. But if you do, be sure to videotape that too.

If you liked that jazz. . .check out some of these:

• Hula Hoop Contest 2010! (6)
• Your Language Is Holding You Hostage (And Why I’ll Be Flying Obama’s Private Jet As A Result) (72)
• Why Seeking A Meaningful Career Is Bad Advice (50)
• 33 MORE Tell-Tale Signs You’re a Closet Lifestyle Designer – PART II (40)
• All Wants Are Not Created Equal (52)

I hope you’re not disappointed; today, you’ll find no bold claims, lofty theories, societal questionings, smart ass commentaries or any other typical Middle Finger Project topics.  We’ll save those for Monday.

Today, we’re gonna have a little party.  Right here, right now.  Go ahead, crank the Spice Girls.

Just kidding, because the Spice Girls wouldn’t be played on a yacht, and that’s exactly where this imaginary party of ours is taking place.  Yes, a warm ocean breeze caresses your face, as you take a sip of your Dom Pérignon (that’s right, you’re a baller), and sashay on over to the shrimp cocktail.  It’s a black tie event, and you can’t help but admit that you’re looking rather attractive.  Alright, so you’re looking extremely attractive.  Props.

Wait–was that P. Diddy who just landed on the helipad?

No, that’s actually me. Because this is my fantasy party and clearly I’d be the one landing on the helipad.  Although Diddy is more than welcome.

But why are we having an imaginary lavish yacht party, you ask?  Good question.  The short answer?  Because I can’t afford a real one. (Yet.)  However, if I were to have the means to throw all of the readers, supporters, followers, fans and FRIENDS of The Middle Finger Project a real lavish yacht party, I would.  Because you deserve it.

I wanted to make this an exclusive post for you all today, giving a my utmost sincere thanks to each and every one of you.  I cannot tell you how humbled I’ve been since I began this website back in November, and I owe its climbing success to its readers, who are, without a doubt, some of the most badass, top-shelf people around.

You guys have given me your time, your attention and most of all, your encouragement, for which I am endlessly grateful.  Every time a comment is made on a post, I recognize the time that you’ve put into constructing it–especially considering the thoughtful, in-depth nature of most of them–and I truly cannot thank you enough.  You guys make me excited to leap out of bed every morning, and that’s no exaggeration.  (Is it too soon to pronounce my undying love for you?)

So with that, this toast post goes to you. From my heart,  thank you. 

Now drink up–it’s open bar!  (But be careful not to fall over the side, because, frankly, that would suck.  And I have no idea how to drive a yacht in a straight line, let alone make a U-turn.

If you liked that jazz. . .check out some of these:

• All Wants Are Not Created Equal (52)
• Hula Hoop Contest 2010! (6)
• Perhaps The Preamble Should Read: We, The Robots. (Prove That You Aren’t, And Win $100) (42)
• Your Language Is Holding You Hostage (And Why I’ll Be Flying Obama’s Private Jet As A Result) (72)
• Education & Wage Slavery: Hand In Hand? (82)

Schizophrenic Intro

Here’s a disturbing thought:  What if I were to make the bold claim  (me?  bold claim?)  that there’s no such thing as independent thinking. You’re over there already, shaking your finger back and forth at me and saying, “Nuh uh, girlfriend. I don’t know about you, but I have got a mind of my own!” Snap right, snap left, SNAP RIGHT!

To which I place a hand on one hip and say, “Oh yeah, suga’?  That’s because you don’t know about the Hopi.”

And then you look at me with a semi-puzzled, semi-skeptical look on your face that says, “What the hell are you talking about, Middle Finger Project chick?”

To which I raise a mischievous eyebrow and tell you that you’ll have to wait until the end of the article to find out.  Because right now, we’ve got some business to talk about.   And that business looks a little something like Sapir + Whorf + Hypothesis + Understanding Of What That Is & How It Affects You = YOU, Exponentially More Awesome.  And by that, I mean sassy little know-it-all who’s busting some moves in the world.

Shall we, my dear?

A Badass Hypothesis

So Sapir. And Whorf.  They were two dudes.  Really intelligent dudes who studied linguistics.  Just take a look at this gem of a statement that Sapir threw out there one glorious day (pay attention, this is importaaaaantttttttt):

“No two languages are ever sufficiently similar to be considered as representing the same social reality. The worlds in which different societies live are distinct worlds, not merely the same world with different labels attached.”

Deep.   I know.

Basically, the premise is this:   The language we speak affects how we view the world. It also can affect how we think or act, and asserts that all human beings do not think the same way regardless of what language they speak.   And I am just oh-so-in-love with this theory.  To expand, it’s the idea that the linguistic structure that we have available to us (i.e. verb forms, the order of sentences) influences our perceptions and, hence, thoughts.  For example, as humans we tend to put things, situations, ideas, people–you name it–into mental categories.  Yet, these categories don’t exist because they stare every observer in the face; rather, our categories are organized by our minds, and that means by the linguistic systems of our minds.   (Thanks for the paraphrase, Whorf old buddy, old pal.)  Therefore, all observers are not led by the same physical evidence to the same picture of the universe.  And that’s just all sorts of wild.

So, back to the Hopi.   That clever bunch has two different words for “water”:  One for drinking water in a container versus a natural body of water.  Brilliant!  To add to the envy, they also are said not to experience time in the same way that we do; to them, it is not linear out of the past, through a present and future (e.g. “Our future is ahead of us.”), but rather is a circular flow that is tied to the ever changing and returning seasons.   Tell me that wouldn’t lower your stress levels on your daily commute!  Oh, I’m 15 minutes late?  No biggie; that’ll just be recycled right on back to my boss next year.

Some of you might know that I’ve got a master’s degree in TESOL, which, in sum, is basically a master’s degree in second language acquisition theory.  I’ve had some really rad times studying the differences between Chinese & English, as I used to work with non-native English speakers, many of which were from China, entering into a local Penn State branch to help them foster greater academic language proficiency.  Two interesting things to note about the Chinese language:

1) There is no gender. Distinctions between he versus she do not exist.

2) Counterfactual statements don’t exist.

For example, “If Matt from Life Without Pants were to shut down his blog, there would be a lot of angry people.” This is counterfactual, because it isn’t true.  (The part about him shutting down his blog–not that the people would be angry, because they definitely would!)  We’re hypothesizing.  But the Chinese don’t have this construction.  They’d likely write this as “Matt from Life Without Pants didn’t shut down his blog, if he did, people were mad.” So what happens is that the Chinese have no way to express something that counters reality, and that is known to be false, simply for the purpose of drawing implications.  Because of this, researchers have posited that Indo-European speakers (us and everyone else with the ability to form counterfactuals) are more inclined to perform theoretical thinking, whereas the lack of it in Chinese induces a general disinclination for them doing so, which can be observed in their traditionally more practical, reality-centered approaches to scientific, social and moral questions. (Blame Alfred Bloom; he said it, not me!)

So, that’s equally wild, eh?

So, I Discovered This Thing . . .

Now for my favorite part of this little discussion:  Do you know that we’ve now invented another language, similar to English, called “E-Prime?”  To my great disappointment, “e” does not stand for “electronic,” as one might be inclined to assume.  Rather, E-Prime is short for “English Prime,” and it’s a modified version of the English language which basically just kicked out any and all forms of the verb, “to be,” suggesting that the use of E-Prime leads to a less dogmatic style of language.  Essentially, the language doesn’t make any absolute assertions.  My homie G, Wikipedia, states that E-Prime is also used as a mental discipline activity to filter speech and translate the speech of others.   For example, the sentence “Miller Lite is good,” translated into E-Prime, would read, “I like Miller Lite,” and communicates the subjective experience rather than judgment.  This makes it a whole hell of a lot harder to confuse opinion with fact.  (Are you stroking your chin with wonder and curiosity yet?)

Furthermore, passive voice is eliminated.   Example:  “The beer was spilt.” For all of you non-English language obsessed cool cats, that’s a passive statement that pretty much takes the blame off of any one person, as if it sort of just happened. (The verb “to be” is hiding in the “was.”)  However, in E-Prime, the person who actually spilled the beer would have to suck it up and take the blame.  So, in opposition, this is an active statement: “Carlos from Owl Sparks spilled the beer.“  (I knew I shouldn’t have entrusted him with it.)

If this thought hasn’t crossed your mind yet, imagine how useful to the American public E-Prime would be in politics. There’d be no more, “A decision was made.”   No, no, no.   Someone over in that big, giant, white, massive house would have to own up to that decision.  Is it reasonable to assume that this is one reason why English has become the international language of business?  Just sayin’.

Spine-Tingling Implications (And The Jet)

If you’ve made it to this point, I’m proud.  I know that English talk can get daunting, but it raises an interesting point: Does independent thinking actually exist, and to what degree? If you can only think through a language, then doesn’t that language automatically moderate that thought process?  And if that’s the case, then many of our thoughts could be out of our control.

But time out: What about the learning of second, third, fourth languages?  What happens then?   That interdependence of thought and language gets shaken up a bit, and perhaps allows us the possibility of a whole new system of conceptualization.  New conceptualization = new perspectives = new thought processes = new ideas = new, more enhanced you.  That’s kind of magical, actually . . . dangling additional systems of conceptualization over peoples’ heads.

Is the learning of a second language a plausible first step toward the eradication of narrow-minded, closed thinking?   Do I need to call Obama and see if we can make this a law?   Because, frankly, I wouldn’t mind seeing a little less dogmatism, and a little more tolerance, or better–dare I say–acceptance?  And then maybe for offering up such an exquisite idea, supported with the oh-so-official examples I cited here, he would consider lending me his private jet sometime.  And then you know it’s going down, if I’m driving Obama’s jet.

Because you know in a heartbeat I’d be all like, “Yeah, so…Barack. I dunno, really. A decision was made and, the plane? Well, it was crashed, buddy.”

Thoughts on this topic?

If you liked that jazz. . .check out some of these:

• Perhaps The Preamble Should Read: We, The Robots. (Prove That You Aren’t, And Win $100) (42)
• Red High Heels, Slaughtered Pigs & Why Being Unsure Is A Good Thing (26)
• Why Seeking A Meaningful Career Is Bad Advice (50)
• 33 MORE Tell-Tale Signs You’re a Closet Lifestyle Designer – PART II (40)
• All Wants Are Not Created Equal (52)

Disclaimer: Keep an open mind on this post, or you’re going to get angry.  And frankly, I don’t want my house to get egged.   Love, Ashley

Education = Opportunity.  Or So We’re Taught To Believe.

Ed-u-ca-tion. Ah, the sound of the word alone evokes feelings of hope, prosperity, success and—what’s that?—money, you say?  Ah, yes.   And money.

We grow up believing that education can defeat all circumstance, transcend social classes, and pave a 24 carat, solid gold nugget path to upward mobility blissdom.  Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh! (No, that was not a scream, people, those were the angels harmonizing.  Clearly.)

And, isn’t that the case?

Don’t we go to school and get an education to learn, think independently, develop our interests and become all-around badasses?  Don’t we praise, worship and promote education as the be-all, end-all solution to the world’s worries?  Don’t we embark on philanthropic missions to spread the good word of education to those that don’t have access?  Doesn’t education equal opportunity?  Don’t I ask a lot of rhetorical questions?

We’re constantly talking about what education can do for me, you, your mom, his mom, his grandma, his grandma’s cousin in Bangalore, her seventeen cousins in the next town over and their sixty-seven children.  This one time, this guy I know went to school and next thing you know he’s a billionaire!  Hark, the wonders of education!  We practically have nation-wide orgasms over it.  Not that nation-wide orgasms are a bad thing.

Sure, there’s plenty that education can do for all of us. But in our flurry of excitement, we fail to recognize that tiny little detail called the law of reciprocity.  What, exactly, are we doing for education in return?  The answer: A hell of a lot more than we realize.

Education As A Biz-naz

Why do you suppose Obama is going out of his way to make education a priority? And I quote, from Obama’s website:

“Preparing our children to compete in the global economy is one of the most urgent challenges we face.”

Sounds noble enough, doesn’t it?  (Note: This is not a political statement for or against Obama.  Just an example.)  As much as we’d like to believe that those in power are petitioning for education because they’re good people, or because they’re looking out for our personal well-being (how sweet!), or because they want social equality, or maybe just so we don’t look like big, fumbling, sloppy idiots next to the Chinese–it’s a happy little love story, but it isn’t the real reason.  The real reason is tucked nicely right into Obama’s quote up there.  See it there?  Look closely.  See it now?  Economy.

Economy is a fun little word, especially right now. Our economy happens to be based on capitalism.  This means that goods, or capital, is traded for profit, and profit is the name of the game.  The term capital can encompass many things, but there’s one form of capital in particular that’s the most important form of all, and guess what?  That capital is YOU.

You probably think of yourself as far more than a mere factor of production (what? you mean to say that my attitudes and my beliefs and my ideas aren’t actually valued?) but human beings in a capitalist society are exactly that–human capital. (Worse, what really stings is that economists refer to human capital as a “fungible resource,” which basically means that you’re interchangeable.  Ouch.)  Basically, your knowledge contributes to your ability to perform labor, in order to produce economic value.  Therefore, more knowledge = more labor = more economic value.

And how do you get more knowledge?   Ed-u-ca-tion. (Cue angels.)

This is why education is promoted.  And I’m sure it comes as no surprise, the link between education and economic value.  We’ve always grasped that concept on on the surface, but the question is, do we understand what that means?  For example, what if it’s the case that the only education you’re receiving is that which contributes to your economic value?  Some might argue that it is.

We educate people to perform the functions that are needed, so that they can be productive members of society. You’ve heard that phrase before, right?  In this sense, within the education system we are essentially a bunch of giant pawns that are manipulated, shaped and formed into what is needed in order to produce, AKA, what is needed in order to make a profit.  We aren’t gaining knowledge for the sake of knowledge; we are gaining specific knowledge–that which is dictated by the elite, with their goals in mind, since they run the education system in the first place–in order to perform certain functions later in life.  We’re being prepared for the work force.  We’re being primed to produce.  We’re being used, in the deepest sense.  Kinda like a farm!  From this perspective, the economy doesn’t exist to support its people; its people exist to support the economy.  The term “wage slave” has never held more truth.

Imagine

Let’s put ourselves in an imaginary secondary school setting for a moment, shall we?  No gum allowed, or you’re going straight to the principal’s office.

Let’s say a school curriculum emphasizes mathematics over history.  (It isn’t too often you hear of AP History, do you?)  It’s highly probable that the students that attend that school will rank mathematics as more important than history.  In turn, those people are going to regard jobs that require specialized skills in mathematics as more important than those that require specialized skills in history.  Students are told that jobs in mathematics will mean greater economic opportunities, which may be partly true, but what society gets out of promoting mathematics through the education system is a greater supply of math geniuses.  A greater supply of math genius human capital.  And a greater supply of math genius human capital translates into a more competitive society.  And a more competitive society translates into a more profitable society.  And a more profitable society–you guessed it–translates into a better economy.  Was the connection clear there?

So let’s skip past all the wordy explanations and get down to it–basically, you’re busting your ass to learn math so someone at the top can get even richer.  It’s a hidden curriculum, if you will.  It’s a case of those in power manipulating schooling to serve their own agenda.  The opinions of the majority are formed mainly through education, and the government decides what’s taught in an educational setting.  Coincidence?  I think not.

The education system is the perfect way to transmit fundamental values necessary for capitalism to be successful–competition, individualism, consumerism–because it has access to children right from the beginning, and for a really, really (really) long time.  It’s socialization by education.  Education is a tool to wield power.  If you need more proof, think back to when schooling first became widespread, when Western nations tried to colonize indigenous peoples, providing them with moral guidance in an attempt to convert them to Western values and norms.  Why?  So Westerners could exploit them by extracting taxes and getting cheap labor, as well as encourage the spread of Western culture and language.  Doesn’t sound so much like an institution with your best interests in mind, does it?  It was about power and money then, and it’s about power and money now.

What The Hell Am I Saying All Of This For?

Well, the tagline of The Middle Finger Project is, “rejecting the status quo and rebelling against mediocrity.”  But, it’s pretty hard to reject the status quo when you’ve spent your whole life unconsciously perpetuating it.

In school, too often we are taught what to think, not how to think, and there’s a fundamental difference.  It’s crucial to acquire the latter if you want to do big things.  Critical thinking skills are lacking, and that’s why I blog–to encourage it.  And I’d make the argument that that’s why many of the bloggers in this niche blog.  Sometimes it makes people uncomfortable, but that’s the point.  By inspiring critical thought, the hope is to nudge the human race forward, if only just a little bit.  Critical thinking leads to action.  And if we ever want to shake up the status quo, we’re going to have to act.

Am I rebelling against capitalism?  No.  But I am calling for a more conscious awareness of how the world works around us–and how it affects us, in turn?  Yeah, man.  Am I rebelling against education?  No.  But am I calling for a broader base of knowledge within the education system?  Hell yeah, man.

I get capitalism, but here’s the thing:  I don’t like being someone else’s capital–I want to be my own. (Forget the angels–cue “Bad to the Bone.”)  So with that said, please don’t egg my house.  Or Obama’s.  But if you want to go to Bangalore and start a critical thinking revolution, you know where to find me.

If you liked that jazz. . .check out some of these:

• All Wants Are Not Created Equal (52)
• Hula Hoop Contest 2010! (6)
• Perhaps The Preamble Should Read: We, The Robots. (Prove That You Aren’t, And Win $100) (42)
• Surprise Yacht Party, And You’re Invited. (Bring Your Dancing Shoes) (13)
• Your Language Is Holding You Hostage (And Why I’ll Be Flying Obama’s Private Jet As A Result) (72)

I’m a betting kinda gal.

It all started when I was fourteen. The local pizza shop had a pool table, and it didn’t take long for me to notice that this was where the cute high school boys hung out. With their bowl cuts and too-cool-for-school attitude, they blasted Oasis’ “Wonderwall” on the jukebox and I swooned over their varsity jackets.  Oh, did I swoon.

But being fourteen, they hardly acknowledged my presence, let alone swoon in return.  What’s a girl to do?

She doesn’t wear short skirts.   She doesn’t bat her eyes.  And she certainly doesn’t blow bubbles with her chewing gum and position herself against the wall to look more mature, sexy and innocent all at the same time.

No.

She learns how to play pool.

My middle school afternoons were filled with blue fingers, tricky bank shots and the art of trash talk.  Before long, the word “English” took on a whole new meaning.

I was good.  I was real good.  And man did it work in my favor.   Before I knew it, I was kicking ass and taking names with the big boys.  So, what does this long, drawn out story that I could have summed up in one sentence have to do with anything at all?  Not a whole lot, except I wanted to tell it.  That and…challenges.

I seem to have a thing for them.

Challenges are fun, especially when you’re in favor to win.  So that’s why when Kristin Norris of Instigationology decided to publicly challenge me to one month of no drinking, I scrunched my nose, took a deep breath, and immediately accepted.  Except this time, winning might not be in my favor.  And, instead of winking at boys and making sarcastic remarks about sinking the 8-ball, I will likely be moping in the corner, making sarcastic remarks about her.  (Love you, Kristin!)

A month of no drinking–not even my favorite Cab?  This calls for a factory-sized vat of sparkling grape juice and one of those stress balls that you squeeze.  Make it two.

THE CHALLENGE

So, here’s the deal.  Kristin’s challenge was designed to serve three purposes:

Number One.
Make a statement for pushing one’s self outside of his/her comfort zone.  This month, Kristin & I are going to be engaging ourselves in a number of crazy, funky, nontraditional activities that one might wish for a shot of Jack Daniels before doing.  But alas, that’s the beauty of it–whether we feel like fools or not, it’s ON.  And there will be videos.  Enough said.

Conveniently, the initiative corresponds beautifully with my original intent for Operation: Get Excited, in which I videotape myself trying out one new activity per month, with the goal of inspiring people to get out there and get engaged in the world around us.  As I stated before, living an excitement-filled, passionate lifestyle doesn’t always have to mean running off to Cuba, adorned in a Zorro mask and armed with nothing more than a leap of faith, in search of exotic cigars and cheap rum.  (Although, if there’s a Zorro mask involved, I would definitely give it some thought.)  There’s plenty of cool things you can do right here at home.  I kicked off the operation with salsa dancing, and will be filing any videos produced this month through the no-drinking challenge in Operation: Get Excited as well.  Double whammy.

Number Two
Take the money that would have been spent on alcohol while socializing, and put it toward a plane ticket to ____________?  We may or may not be covertly planning to hijack Sean Ogle in Thailand. And we may or may not be using this entire thing as a cover to do so.  But in any event, it seems like a practical way to shift priorities a bit, and make finances work in our favor.  Go big or go home, right?

Number Three
Kristin needs an excuse to take a burlesque class.

So there you have it.  Whether it’s genius or disastrous remains to be seen.  At the very least, maybe it’ll help me fit into my pants again since my little adventure in Central America.  Apparently living in other countries justifies forgetting all about the basic principles of caloric consumption.  Whoops!

To see the video Kristin made of us discussing the challenge, click here. But don’t say I didn’t warn you–we are out of control.

Cheers!

Oh, wait.  I should probably refrain from saying that.  Damn it all.  I’m in so much trouble.

If you liked that jazz. . .check out some of these:

• All Wants Are Not Created Equal (52)
• Hula Hoop Contest 2010! (6)
• Perhaps The Preamble Should Read: We, The Robots. (Prove That You Aren’t, And Win $100) (42)
• Surprise Yacht Party, And You’re Invited. (Bring Your Dancing Shoes) (13)
• Your Language Is Holding You Hostage (And Why I’ll Be Flying Obama’s Private Jet As A Result) (72)

While I’m wildly extroverted now, as an adolescent I was a surefire leg grabber; anytime anyone attempted to engage me with their phony, high-pitched cooing, my eyes would dart from side to side, as I ever-so-coolly began my retreat behind the nearest adult leg that would shield me from their artificiality–usually to the delight of my Uncle Jimmy.  He was one of the only ones I trusted; I saw how adults interacted with other adults, and it was different from how they interacted with me.   I was suspicious.   I was skeptical.  I was insulted.  I viewed their change of register as an assault on my intelligence.

And so the faintest hints of cynicism toward authority saw it’s early beginnings.

There’s been a lot of talk, lately, surrounding this notion of authority.   Just a few days ago, Problogger guest writer Kelly Diels wrote on the topic of authority in blogging, and what, exactly, that even means.  She did an excellent job of unpacking how authority is created, even delving into the role of gender in the meanwhile.  There were many definitions thrown about, including credibility, trust, rapport, reputation and experience, and, to a large extent, there seemed to be collective agreement. That is, in terms of the blogosphere, anyway.

But . . . what about outside of the blogosphere? What about in the world we live in away from the computer screen?  Do the same rules apply?  Is authority granted, perpetuated, and respected based on the same qualities?

Take a police officer, for example.   What makes him an authority figure?  Is it because he’s credible, trustworthy, reputable and has lots of experience?  Or is it because we’ve internalized the proposed hierarchy, and have learned to regard police officers as authority figures because we’ve been taught that that’s what we should do?  Social order supposedly relies on governing authorities to maintain just that–order–and this is usually understood to be a positive thing.  On the flip side, however, it seems that maintaining order, in many cases, is a synonym for maintaining the status quo.   For maintaining the power structure.  For maintaining the interests of those in power.

That said, the question I really want to get at is whether or not this type of authority is actually authority.  Is authority synonymous with power?  Is authority nothing more than manufactured status in a uniform?  Initially, my first thought was that authority as such, based on power and control, is not what I’d naturally associate with credibility, trust or rapport, hence separating the real-world authority versus blogging authority in my mind. (Although the two categories aren’t mutually exclusive.)  However, later it occurred to me that if the blogger’s goal is to gain credibility, trust, rapport and, ultimately, authority. . . isn’t the reason that authority is desired is so power and control can be gained?

To me, this reads as a converse relationship between the real world and the blogosphere; in the real world, one gains authority by first having power and control, and in the blogosphere, one gains power and control by first having authority.

Regardless of the circumstances, in either case authority is nothing more than a perception, as it’s been said.  It means being perceived as having power and control or, in the case of bloggers, being perceived as credible & trustworthy.  But, all in all, if authority is just a perception, and a perception is nothing more than an individual’s interpretation . . . then does actual authority actually exist?  More importantly, should we be abiding by, obeying, & living within the dimensions of something that doesn’t exist?  Or do we continue to play along, and for whose sake?

Certainly I’m not encouraging anyone to engage in a high-speed car chase when a police officer is attempting to pull you over for a traffic violation–that example was used because it made it easy to illustrate the point.  (As a matter of fact, please don’t.)

But what about authority in terms of your own life?   Do you live by your own rules, or someone else’s?  In other words, do you have power and control over your life, or does someone else?

What if you were to become your own authority on your life? Shouldn’t you be better qualified, given that you actually are an expert on you, versus someone who is just perceived to be?

I’m going to steal a quote from the email signature of a reader who recently wrote me, because I thought it was fantastic:

“They must find it difficult … those who have taken authority as truth rather than truth as authority.” ~ Gerald Massey

And with that, I digress.

What are your thoughts?  Is authority real?

If you liked that jazz. . .check out some of these:

• Live Alive, Not Just a Life: Guidelines for Rebelling Against “Reality” (2)
• All Wants Are Not Created Equal (52)
• Hula Hoop Contest 2010! (6)
• Perhaps The Preamble Should Read: We, The Robots. (Prove That You Aren’t, And Win $100) (42)
• Surprise Yacht Party, And You’re Invited. (Bring Your Dancing Shoes) (13)

You’re going to want to slap me, tar & feather me or violently X out of the page when you realize that this post is about the one thing you’re quite possibly sick of hearing how to make, find, or achieve…but, I urge you not to.  Not yet, at least–namely because I’ve got a hot date tomorrow, and I’m going to go out on a limb and say that a resin-free pucker might yield me considerably more lip action.

So……success.

You’re over this topic. You don’t care to read yet another key, tip or secret, luring you with their big brown eyes and endless promises to make you an overnight celebrity.   The topic is over-saturated with regurgitated advice persuading us to “think positive!” “write down your goals!” “be persistent!” “work your ass off!” “sleep with your boss!”

Your eyes are glazing over as we speak.

So…Why Am I Bothering?

Because like it or not, we’re still measured by how “successful” we’ve been.   And worse–the real reason I’m writing this–is that we’ve been taught to use it to measure ourselves.

We’ve got a love/hate relationship with that little word, and rightfully so.  In the love department, it’s what we know.  It’s what we’ve been taught to want.   It’s the general, overarching goal that we hold ourselves accountable to in life.  To be a success. We can each take a different path in life, but we’re all bonded by the common desire to be successful–no matter how we define it for ourselves.  Whether you define success as money, happiness, health, or some combination of all three, it remains our number one objective.  And to that end, we chase after it, idolize it, glorify it & sacrifice everything in the name of it.

On the flip side of things, to some degree you might resent success as well. You might resent that you haven’t yet achieved your idea of it, that it’s taking far longer than you imagined to reach, or maybe just the fact that you’re expected to be successful in the first place.  It can really mess with your psyche.  (Psshh.  What kind of a word requires two C’s and two S’s, anyway?)

For me, the issue isn’t so much whether or not we should be going after it (and how), but rather in the way that we’re using it.

Traditionally, it’s been considered an outcome. The end result.   Where you stand at the end of the day.  To seek success implies that there exists a certain point where, if you make it there, you’ve accomplished something.  Until that point, though, you’re more or less considered a work-in-progress.

This all or nothing mindset must go.  Victory or defeat.   Black or white.  Chocolate or vanilla.  Successful or unsuccessful? It’s really kind of laid out in terms of one or the other isn’t it?  It’s a game of win or lose.  And we really, really hate losing.  That only leaves us with one choice.

So instead, we fixate on winning, i.e. achieving success.  And as such, we engage ourselves in a vicious cycle.  Because we’re fixated on achieving that particular success, we hesitate to take risks as to not sacrifice any of the momentum we’ve built up.  And because we forego risk, as a response to being so painstakingly afraid to fail–so terrified of being unsuccessful–with it, we forgo our opportunities for the very thing we were seeking in the first place.

This flawed cycle of success seems to be one thing that’s actually causing us to fail.

From my perspective, we need to scrap all that.  Success shouldn’t be characterized by an outcome, but rather by a series of actions.  It’s an ongoing, real-time process, not a one-time event.  It’s not what you’ve accomplished, but what you’re accomplishing.   It’s not what you’ve done, but what you’re doing.  And it’s not who you are, but who you’re becoming.

Could it be that success is a representation of all of the present progressive tense markers in your life?

We’re human beings. There’s nothing about us that’s all or nothing, or black or white. We’re dynamic, fluid, ever-evolving creatures, and the ways in which we choose to measure ourselves, i.e. in terms of success, should be just as flexible.  Don’t ask yourself if you’ve reached your goal; ask yourself what you’re doing to reach your goal.  It’s that right there–the doing–that’s the true indicator of success.   It’s the moment when you move from thinking about what you aspire to do, to getting out there and doing what you aspire to do.

It’s all in the doing. (Get your head out of the gutter.)

For some fantastic examples of some go-getters who are out there right now, not just thinking but doing, visit http://www.downloadsuccess.info and download a brand new free eBook that showcases 30 bloggers’ interpretations of success.  The collaboration project was developed by no other than Jonny Gibaud, author of The Life Thing, a lifestyle design/adventure/I’m-crazy-and-hysterical blog, and if you’re looking for some entertaining writing, this is certainly the place.  Check out his bio to see what I mean.  Oh yeah, AND he’s British.

So, what are you out there accomplishing, doing, BEING?

If you liked that jazz. . .check out some of these:

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I am in hot, humid, sweaty-in-all-the-wrong-places Central America, and I am invited to a Christmas party.  Eager to experience the holiday through a shiny new cultural lens, my mistletoe and I happily accept.   In the name of cross-cultural exchange, I carry an innocent little twig of mistletoe, in hopes it will aid my mission to gather a more intimate knowledge of the culture, if you know what I mean.  Wink-wink-elbow jab.

The taxi drops me off at the address.   It’s dark.   It’s muddy.  I’m wearing red heels.  I can envision it now:

Perfect little tan bodied, long-haired, hoop earring donning Latina female number one: Who brought the idiot who can’t even walk like a proper woman in tacones?

Perfect little tan bodied, long-haired, hoop earring donning Latina female number two: Pshhh, who cares.  She’s a gringa–what do you expect?

As I not-so-gracefully tip-toe my way around the emerging pieces of rock that play a cruel game of peek-a-boo with me and the dry, hard earth, threatening to make a fool out of me with just one wrong step, I reprimand myself for not just surrendering to flats and settling for stumpy.  But what latin lover is going to want to whisk the stumpy, sweaty girl off her feet?  None.  Especially a stumpy, sweaty girl that, for reasons unknown, is dangling a strange, berry-laden plant above her head.

My schizophrenic thought-process is immediately put on hold in response to a disturbingly sudden, high-pitched shrill that echoes throughout the air.

As I approach the house, I hear it again, but this time much louder. And again. And once again.

As I make my grand entrance into the door of the tin-roofed home–a bit nervous, knowing I will be a stranger in the room–I am greeted not with the warm welcome I was optimistically envisioning, but rather, by an unexpected, alarming scene of sorts that instantaneously sends a wave of nausea rushing through me.

The image is just as horrifying as the sound:  A massive pig, larger than most of the humans that surround it, is being violently chased in circles around the backyard.  There are five males, each armed with what appears to be an oversized mallet, scrambling around the yard, determined to deliver a mighty blow to the panic-stricken pig atop its head to render it unconscious, at which point its throat will be pierced with the large machete that dutifully hangs from the wall.

I quickly ascertain that heels were most definitely an inappropriate selection of footwear for this party.

Well, That’s Awkward

I am horrified. I have no idea what to say, do or even feel, and can’t bear to watch as they silence the pig’s last desperate squeal, and collectively heave it onto a large wooden chopping block to saw off its head.

As the rest of the attendees take delight in gathering around the cauldron-like wok they have suspended over a fire with the help of three heavy-duty chains, patiently awaiting sliced pieces of pig fat to be fried and served, I, on the other hand, sit on an opposite side of the yard, quietly sipping my lager and contemplating, philosophizing, mourning.

Witnessing this event was a great mental exercise for me, and one that boldly challenged my perception of reality, ostentatiously mocking it with its unabashed display of complete and utter opposition to my ingrained cultural norms, which was, by extension, opposition to everything I had previously known to be true.

I fling the mistletoe to the ground.  There will be no stolen kisses tonight.

Words such as PETA, animal cruelty, and inhumane come to mind, as I question the ethics–or, perhaps, lack of ethics–of the human race.  But then, I’m suddenly also forced to question myself.  My automatic reaction is to be appalled, and to proclaim such an act as loathsome, detestable and just plain cold-blooded.

But then, I think, is it actually?

I remind myself that we, too, kill thousands and thousands of pigs each year for consumption, and, according to some recent documentaries, we aren’t as “humane” in our practices as we might like to think.

That said, I question why it doesn’t bother me if I don’t have to witness it with my own eyes.

Worth Contemplating, But Not My Point

I don’t intend for this to be a statement of my position on the integrity of eating meat, because, frankly, I don’t have one.  I am from Scranton, Pennsylvania.  There’s no question that I like meat.  Right now, it’s not about that; it’s about the far broader message that can be extrapolated here.

No matter how you dice it, the simple fact is that it’s unfair for me to judge, because I’m judging based on a different set of rules.   A set of rules that we’ve internalized and perpetuated among ourselves as truth, when, in reality, it’s not truth–it’s purely our perception of truth. Relative to this example, it’s our perception of how we view right and wrong. And this, to me, was wrong.  But I’ll tell you what–to the people at the party, there was nothing wrong about it.   Their truth is that the merits of to-kill-a-pig-or-not-to-kill-a-pig just isn’t a debate that exists.  On the other hand, what does exist is the need to eat, and, frankly, it’s a luxury to have meat at all.  No one is disturbed.  No one is shuddering.   Instead, they are rejoicing.  They are grateful to be fortunate enough to even have the opportunity to kill a pig.

There are some obvious implications that should come as no surprise, namely that, as I’ve stated before, reality is subjective.  But it goes beyond that, and makes another, perhaps less salient point:

Subjectivity implies choice.

You have two choices:  Allow society at large to define your perspectives on your behalf, or define your perspectives for yourself.

What do you really think?  What do you really believe?  … Do you even know?

There is no inherent benefit in accepting the perspectives that society arbitrarily determines for us–whether it’s right versus wrong or any other myriad of possibilities.  There is a perceived benefit, though, and it goes by the name of fitting in.  But, in my view, that’s far from beneficial; quite the opposite, actually.  On the other hand, when you’re capable enough to cut through the noise and learn how to think independently of the group, that’s where the real benefits lie.

Am I saying that I’ve shed my deeply ingrained culturally-based thought patterns overnight, and am a newly converted, red heel wearing pig butcher, in the name of independent thought?  No, certainly not.

But am I open to the possibility that this isn’t as loathsome, detestable and cold-blooded as I was originally inclined to think?

Yes.

If there are currently 7 billion people (that’s 7,000,000,000, in case you need all of those fancy zeros to conceptualize just how many people that truly is) on this planet, and all of us have different perceptions of what’s right or what’s wrong, or whether or not red heels do anything at all to detract from stumpy sweatiness, then it would be preposterously arrogant of me to assert my own perception of right or wrong as truth.  Extended beyond pig killings, if we can learn to apply a similar thought process to other traditionally rigid ideas, such as religion, marriage or even what constitutes success, who knows?  We might just do alright for ourselves, after all.  Not to mention a possible diminishing of supremacism, americentrism, racism, and a host of other ugly -isms and the unflattering baggage that comes with it.

It all starts with the pig, I say.

And with that, I take all of my assumptions, and throw them haphazardly to the wind.

I am left with only two questions:

1)  Where can I find some more mistletoe?
2)  Who’s your daddy now, life?

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You don’t have time for anything.

You’ve got five tabs open on your browser, glaring, bold-faced emails that require responses, glaring, bold-faced bosses that require answers, and a family that, later, will require your last tattered, surviving joule of energy, before you hurriedly run an Oral B across your choppers, pray that there’s a clean pair of sweats (please let there be sweats!), and bellyflop face-first onto your bed, whose sheets really could use a good washing.   If only you had the time.

As you lay there, your mind sprints a 100 yard-dash through a mental purgatory of phone calls to return, errands to run, cards to remember to send, functions to attend, appointments to keep–did I get my car inspected on time?!–basketball games to cheer on, gym time to log, whether or not you can still pull off spandex, and why on earth anyone would buy a pair of those plastic neon sunglasses with the lines through them.

You turn, toss and kick the tangled covers off of your feet in a child-like fit of frustration.  You don’t have time for anything.

In fact, you barely have time to read this. (And I barely had time to write it.)

Back in the office, you won’t have time for a lunch break. (And your boss won’t have time to read the report you’ll spend your lunch break typing.)

You won’t have time to cook a healthy meal for dinner. (And your doctor won’t have time to answer your questions regarding your impending hypertension.)

You won’t have time to be intimate with your significant other. (And your significant other won’t have time to end it with you face-to-face before leaving.)

You won’t have time to take a vacation this year. (And when making layoffs, corporate won’t have time to notice.)

You won’t have time to go the speed limit. (And the paramedics won’t have time to revive you.)

You won’t have time to live your life. (And your life won’t have time to create many memories worth remembering.)

And thereafter, your friends won’t have time to mourn, before they’ll hastily rush back to work in fear of “falling behind,” as they, too, skip their lunch breaks and forfeit their vacation in the name of getting ahead.

At what point did productivity become worth dying for?

At what point did we stop feeling, and just start doing?

At what point did our lives turn into a never-ending assembly line, where the work is never done and we are never done?

And at what point did we become okay with it?

Using The Neverending To-Do List To Your Advantage

Granted, in line with basic human needs, there will always be something else to do in the name of survival. Kill-woolly-mammoth-for-food, for example, or generate-income-to-purchase-food, for a more relevant example. Add on an assortment of self-inflicted obligations on top of societal ones, and juxtapose them with present-day standards of living, and you’ve got yourself one heck of a to-do list–one that, no matter how hard you try, will never, ever be complete.  Until you’re dead, that is.

As daunting as that seems, the fact that life’s to-do list will never be complete is, contrary to instinct, to your advantage. So is the fact that you’re not dead, in case you haven’t had time to notice.

The advantage is this:  Since there’s always going to be something else to do, forever and ever and ever and ever and ever, so help me Jehovah, Jabbodah, Jeremiah or Jay-Z, it logically follows that it would be impossible to get everything done.

And if it’s impossible to get everything done, then why are we in such a hurry to achieve an impossible goal? (Overachievers.  Sheesh.)

The Point

SLOW THE (INSERT EXPLETIVE) DOWN!

AND JUST BECAUSE I REALLY LIKE CAPS AND THIS SEEMS LIKE A LESSON WE COULD ALL BENEFIT FROM IF WE MANAGE TO GET IT THROUGH OUR CUTE LITTLE OVERACTIVE CEREBRUMS, I’M GOING TO FURTHER THAT STATEMENT IN ALL CAPS WITH THIS:

STOP RUSHING TO YOUR DEATH.

In my view, we could all really benefit if we could learn to reprogram our internal Tom-Toms from “fastest route” to “scenic route,” because otherwise, we will arrive much sooner than we ever imagined, without having seen any of the pretty lakes, rivers, valleys, fields, forests, deer, wild boar, or David The Gnome.  And wouldn’t you jump at the chance to see David The Gnome, even just to give him a high five for that sweet red hat?

That sounds like I’m promoting drug usage.  I’m not.  I don’t…I just…I just….ah, forget it.

This Is Not New Information

When it comes down to it, it doesn’t matter how many ridiculous metaphors I use, you already know that you have to slow down.  We all know that.  You’ve probably had mini heart-to-hearts with yourself over the years, telling yourself the very same thing.  You’ve made promises to read more books for leisure, spend more time playing Mario Kart with the kids, take long, drawn-out baths and maybe even try yoga.

So why haven’t you?

You fantasize about putting the world on pause, hanging a giant “Do Not Disturb” sign right on that which is your life, and curling up with a Harlequin romance. (Don’t deny.)

But you can’t, right?

Because there’s no remote control for the world–not even a mute button–and if you hesitate for even a moment, someone will come along who’s better, faster, more capable than you, and before you know it, you’ll be left in the dust.

That’s the fear, isn’t it?

Guess what:  It’s time to wind up big and give that fear a fresh one, because the only thing that’ll be left in the dust is your guilty conscience.  Bring on the Harlequins, I say.

While it’s true that we will always have something to do, and it may feel like we’re working on a 24/7 assembly line with no end in sight, that doesn’t mean we can’t kick the conveyor belt down a notch and take our good, sweet time.  Periodic dance parties purely optional.  Henry Ford is not behind you with a whip.  The only one rushing you…is you.

A Little Experiment

Try this:

Tomorrow, walk really slowly.

It’s that simple.  Walking slowly on purpose always helps me feel more calm, in general, and forces me to slow everything else down.  Give your brain the uncommon treat of being able to simply trot along peacefully, without having to race.  Take the time to smell the air, and not just smell it, but really inhale it.  Notice things.  Notice yourself.  Notice how you feel.   Notice who you are.

Revel in the peace of mind & unexpected relief that comes with not having to be the fastest, if only for today.  Let people think you drive like grandma and yell obscenities out the window. Who cares?  Just crank the tunes.

Note: Might be useful to have a video camera on hand. Recording other people getting angry because you’re not rushing through your life like they are might prove to be disturbingly delightful.

Stop being impatient. Anxious. Intolerant. Demanding. Short. Tense. High-strung. Temperamental.

Take a deep breath, and slow it down, Gonzalez!   Make a conscious effort, if for no other reason than it feels good.   Despite appearances, you are completely in control of your time and how you operate.   Don’t forget it.   Getting the world’s most productive person award is not worth sacrificing the quality of your experience here on earth.   Actually, it’s not even worth trading your black jellybeans for, since it doesn’t even exist.

Chill out. And in the meantime, you should definitely have a lasso on hand–after all, who needs a muse if you’ve captured a gnome?

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• Red High Heels, Slaughtered Pigs & Why Being Unsure Is A Good Thing (26)
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They say that the grass is always greener on the other side. Normally, I’d refute this, proclaim it an illusion, and instead promote some other tired, overused, pink, frilly powder puff version of  ”seize the day,” “be grateful for what you have,” or, my personal favorite, “stop being a greedy, selfish, money-grubbing bonehead.”

Normally, that is.

Today, however, I find myself on the verge of reluctant agreement with my green, grassy, psychological nemesis, wondering if, perhaps, the grass will always be greener on the other side–on the playing field that is my mind, anyway.

Is there ever a point in which we actually take a deep breath and say, “Ah, there. NOW I’m completely happy with everything in my life, including that weird mole that appeared on my arm, and–you know what?–I don’t want any other grass on any other side.  Mine is just perfect the way it is.”

Or, is it the case that, in the quest for self-development, your grass will never be as green as you want it to be?   Better phrased:  Will I forever be engaged in an (elusive?) battle to be…more? Better?  Greener?  More luscious?

Now for the twist:  Am I even seeking to be more, or could it be the case that I’m helplessly engaged in a fool’s battle with the never-ending challenge that being more presents?  Relative to lifestyle design, am I truly involved in it for the potential end reward, or is it possible that I’m involved because it provides me yet another challenge to manhandle?

… Am I nothing more than a mere adrenaline junkie?

Then again, I’ve had moments, too, when lifestyle design is appealing for exactly what it promises:  The ownership of your own time. (Ironic that we must repossess ownership over something that is inherently ours in the first place, but that’s another story.)   I have now reached a point where, to even contemplate worst-case scenarios in which I’d be forced back into the numbness of timesheet servitude, I involuntarily shudder.  Regrettably, horizontal stripes & handcuffs aren’t all that becoming on me. Neither is the black cloak of guilt that comes as a free bonus, as a special thank you for shopping with the Western world.

My mind then ricochets to a new thought, one that is mildly disturbing, yet reverberating with potential truth:  Could it be that, ironically enough, I’m the one who takes life much too seriously?  Could it be that I am so hypersensitive of life’s delicate, volatile ways, that I’m desperately trying to cling to whatever fleeting moments I’ve been granted, like a fledging attempt at capturing a minnow by repeatedly cupping my hands in the water?  Do I take life too seriously in the sense that I’m obsessed with getting it right, and making every moment count?  Am I over doing it? Is it even possible to over do life?

Perhaps I am the ultimate perfectionist, radically aiming for perfection in my life, by constantly trying to ensure perpetual happiness.  Constantly trying to ensure the best of the best, as I define it, anyway, never accepting mediocrity in its place.  This, too, makes me furrow my brow because it flies in the face of my otherwise free-spirited demeanor–but in a strange way that opposes my unrestrained, fancy-free ways by simultaneously defending them.  I am a perfectionist about being carefree.

I’ve got this overwhelming desire to make this one, precious life so absolutely perfect – so absolutely wonderful, so absolutely right – so that it truly represents and, more importantly, feels like the life that I would like to live, that it seems as if my endeavors in lifestyle design could be a heavy nod to just that:  Large-scale perfectionism.

Is it perfectionism?

Is it the product of a time-based society, in which we are acutely, painfully aware of every passing minute?

Is it some character flaw of my own?

Or could it simply be a function of human nature?

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At sometime, somewhere, somehow you’ve royally  *#%&@! up.  And at sometime, somewhere, somehow, you will royally  *#%&@! up again.  Fact. Hell, maybe just today alone you have a few doozies under your belt (especially if you’re a Pepsi drinker–that counts, you know).  Soft drinks aside, it doesn’t matter how closely you follow the rules, how many articles you’ve read online, how many fancy degrees you have, how many abbreviations follow your name, how many pats on the back you’ve received, how long your resume is, how well-traveled you are, how much money you’ve made, how many stalkers you have, which “important people” think you’re important too, or whether you’ve finally discovered the best possible way to eat a Reese’s peanut butter cup (damn you, I wanted it to be me):  The inevitable truth is that you are going to mess up. Again.  And again.  (And again.)  Because we’re members of that silly race called human beings.  And none of us know everything.  (Although if you happen to have an unusually large cranium equipped with fortune-telling capabilities and you do know everything, call me so we can reproduce ASAP.)

If I were going to pose as a psychologist, which I’m not, then I might be inclined to tell you–hopefully whilst laying sideways on a brown leather couch with my head propped up by one arm, smoking a pipe and exhaling smoke rings like the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland–that making mistakes is a vital part of self-growth.  But since I’m not a psychologist, nor am I posing as one, I’m going to say this:

Mistakes suck.   I don’t like making them, and I’d like to avoid them at all costs.  Therefore, I will do everything in my power not to make them.  However, when I do, I’ll probably get pissed off.  I might piss some other people off.  But, well…okay, fine.  Because I don’t know everything.  Even though I pretend I do.  But in the meantime, if I can avoid majorly *#%&-ing up, I’m damn well going to, followed up with an emphatic, “Boo-yah.”

Now imagine: For those of us who are following a more traditional life path, many mistakes are made despite having a well-laid out, tried and true life plan.  On the other hand, those of us who have elected to pursue more non-traditional paths–be it a form of lifestyle design or other alternatives–we are, by default, prone to making far more mistakes as a product of that path’s nontraditional nature.  Nothing is tried and true.  It’s in our hands to try it and make it true.  So mistakes become much more prevalent as we forge ahead and attempt to make sense of everything.

You can imagine i’ve been pissed off a lot lately.  Someone send wine.  Lots of it.  And Lucky Charms.  Because digging the marshmallows out is therapeutic.  And while we’re at it, certificates for massages never hurt, either.

In my quest for life awesomeness, there is, however, one mistake that I’ve made in the past, and one that I think warrants a mention.  No, it has nothing to do with the yellow and black polka dot lingerie I, at one point, thought was a good idea, nor any boyfriends I’ve had named Sergio, Pepe or Rex.

Rather, it has to do with a very vital distinction that must be made continually along your own quest for life awesomeness, and that’s the subtle difference I’d like to identify as desires versus dreams.

There are many things we all desire in life.   Desires are things that would be nice.  Putting up a jewelry shop on some cliff-like coast of Greece would be nice.  Having a live-in housekeeper would be nice.  Gorging on pizza every single day would be nice.   Having my pants fit after gorging on pizza every single day would be nice.  Doing anthropological research of indigenous tribes around the world would be nice.  Owning a spa would be nice.  Becoming a fashion designer would be nice.  Having a brand new, white Audi would be nice.  Teaching primates sign language would be nice.  Hell, all of these things would be nice, if not fantastic.  And that’s what makes them desires.  Especially the part about the pizza.  With hot sauce.   Franks, to be exact.

But despite how nice, fantastic, awesome, or mouth-watering all of these things are to me, I must be careful not to make the mistake of letting whimsical desires get in the way of my true dreams.  Because those desires are sneaky little suckers, and they have the power to derail your thought processes, even if only momentarily.  But that power is something to keep an eye on, because you don’t want to be derailed by things that would be nice. You want what will be downright freaking awesome. You want to stay focused on your dream–that is, the one unwavering desire that lies deep within you.

Don’t try to have it all–you simply can’t.  Time doesn’t allow for it.  But absolutely try for what it is you sincerely want to do. Having a jewelry shop on a cliff-like coast of Greece would certainly be brag-worthy, and give me plenty of excuses to wear nothing but white and eat chicken kabobs all day long, but is it what I truly want?  No. What I want is a mobile lifestyle in which I am enabled to wear white and eat chicken kabobs while exploring all sorts of different countries. (Evil laugh.)  And I’ve got to do what it takes to achieve that goal–not some whimsical desire that suddenly strikes.

I’m not a sportsy kinda gal, but let’s indulge in a baseball reference for fun, because the point is salient:  Keep your eye on the ball.

Constantly reassess what you’re spending your time on every day, and make sure that the largest percentage that you can manage is dedicated to what you really want–what you dream about–because if you don’t, that dream will just stay a dream, and never turn into a reality. And then you’ll feel like a big, giant loser–point blank.   You have all of the power to make it happen; you simply have to do just that…..make it happen.

Stop contemplating random desires.  Start concentrating on what it is you really want.  If you haven’t figured that out yet, now is the time.   It doesn’t have to be one thing, but your goals must be clear, and above all, they must make your heart race.  Whatever it is, you must be exhilarated by it.  You must truly want it.   If you’re not sure what you truly want, then start experimenting.   Dig in.  Jump in head first.  Get involved with your own interests. And do the weeding thereafter.   Then once you’ve identified something that, the idea of not having makes you weep, then run full speed after it.  No one else is going to go get it for you. It’s all on you, champ.

Boo-yah!

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