Drawing toward humiliation

I don't go to my history of philosophy class as much as I probably should. I like the subject, but it's so late in the afternoon (4:00-4:50), that usually by the time it rolls around, I've had enough time to decide on something else to do instead. So it's no surprise that I was a little confused about the instructions for our take-home exam we had this week, since my professor probably explained it on one of those days I played hooky. The exam had five essay prompts, and we were instructed to use about 3,000 words to answer them. One of the prompts, for example, was: "Explain the metaphysics and epistemology of Plato's Theory of Forms". I'm pretty sure I rocked that one. The confusion came on prompt #4: "Sketch Aristotle’s views about the nature of the universe in terms of the four causes and the distinction between the natural world and the supernatural world." I know what you're thinking: Draw a picture. That's what I thought too. Especially when Aristotle himself drew a picture to illustrate it. So I did. I typed the prompt at the top of the paper and left the rest of it blank so I could sketch Aristotle's universe after printing the rest of the paper. It was a pretty good sketch too! I did think it was a little odd; It seemed unusual for that type of assignment, and a little out of place, but that's what it said to do! When I got to class, everyone had their own six-to-eight-page, printed and stapled packets that they were so relieved to have completed, and were in the process of proudly sharing their unique answers and approximation to the suggested word count. Before I could even sit down in my usual, unassigned desk, a classmate shoved his own exam in my face, convinced I'd be astounded by his extraordinary achievement. It didn't take long to notice that his answer to #4 was not a picture, but an essay. Slightly confused, and mostly worried, I asked to see another student's exam claiming to be interested in her conclusion to the definition of Anaximander's "apeiron" (prompt #2). Also an essay in place of #4's expected hand-sketched universe. Even from a distance, as many students thumbed through their papers in self assurance, I noticed the absence of any artwork.

Sketch: 1. verb intrans. to draw or paint a sketch. 2. verb trans. to describe roughly or briefly or give the main points or summary of. (CRAP!)

Boy, did I feel sheepish! I sat quietly at my desk too embarrassed to show my paper to anyone. I had nothing to boast about. I hated mine. I wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible, but the professor didn't even collect the exams at the beginning of class. He went right into the lecture, so I put it back in my backpack. hiding it. protecting it from inquiry. My eyes were on the lecture, but my thoughts were staring at my backpack; at my secret shame. After an hour of futile worry and inaudible, nervous laughter, I placed my paper on the pile of unblemished, sketchless exams at the front table, and left the classroom. I walked more quickly than usual in attempt to escape the humiliation that would inevitably take place in some grading office within the next couple of weeks. As if my distance would protect me. My physical anonymity would only last until the exams were returned. Judgment passed in red pen. Who knows, maybe I'm the only one who did it right. Fingers crossed!

Quaestiones Disputatio

I got in an argument recently that was extremely frustrating. It wasn't even in person. not even on the phone. it was online, for goodness' sake! I think that's what bothered me to begin with. It's hard enough to communicate what you really feel when you're looking at the person and they can hear you and respond immediately. But that's still not the frustrating part. No matter how logical and honest my answers and explanations were, this person continued to accuse me of things that either weren't true, or obviously misunderstood. Even after clarification and interpretation of intentions, no progress was made, in fact, it was more regressive than anything (who's going backward?). I realized that resolution was not this person's motive; it was justification. There was no intention of understanding the other side, and I got caught up in it too! I felt silly for even getting involved in it and started to see my own selfish intentions to "win" the argument (for sake of score keeping and one-up-manship, I'm pretty sure I won, anyway), so i decided to just leave it be. It was easy to see that no good would come of continuing, even if I was right.

Isn't that usually the case with arguments? Can you ever think of a time when you won an argument and then felt like you achieved what you were arguing for? I can think of a lot of arguments I at least think I won, but I never felt good about it afterward because the "loser" never admits to losing. In arguments where even the smallest part of my motivation is to win the argument, I never feel satisfied unless the person with whom I argued also acknowledges my victory. In the spirit of competition there is always a loser. Even when merely self proclaimed, there is seldom a winner. In the rare occasion that one wins an argument to the acknowledgment of everyone involved, what moral justification is there in self gratification? How can you ever feel good for bringing someone else down? You can't be motivated to win an argument without also being motivated to make your opponent lose. It is impossible to morally build yourself up while breaking others down.

When Jesus Commands the Nephites not to have disputations among them about the doctrines he gave, I don't think he's telling them not to talk about or even question them. I think he's commanding them (and us) not to argue about it. As I pointed out, argument seems to be more of a form of competition than truth seeking. I think sometimes we get confused in our attempts to be honest, too. Honesty isn't just saying facts. Half the truth is often a great lie. Oftentimes, our arguments are exactly that: half the truth, because we don't know enough to give all of it. I think honesty is saying, to the best of our ability, what is ultimately beneficial for the people we're talking to. Nothing that isn't motivated by love falls under that category. Saying kind truths is probably the closest to truth we are able to speak. What if our conversations were only focussed on establishing truth and honestly saying kind things to each other? I think there would be a lot fewer negative things to not talk about.

"Always love! Hate will get you every time.
Always love! Even when you want to fight."
-Nada Surf: Always Love

Love's Labour's Lost

I think people are forgetting how to love. Sometimes it feels like the only worth I have to people, even those I consider my good friends, is based on my achievements, accomplishments, and academic or monetary potential. This is what I like to call "friendship credentials". What's worse is I find myself qualifying my friends (or potential friends) the same way. It's an easy way to evaluate whether someone can be beneficial to you as a friend. As if people were assets, or objects, or possessions. How dehumanizing! That's not love! Friends aren't positions that can just be replaced like a burnt-out lightbulb! People are people for heaven's sake! Love is more than actions. It's more than words, however cliché that is. It's a spiritual unity, however silly that sounds. Whatever is spiritual is eternal!

We live in a compatibility focused world. People have to be "compatible" with us to deserve our time and attention, I guess. Nobody thinks about what they need to do to be compatible themselves. Whatever it takes to escape personal responsibility. If I don't get along with someone, it's obviously their fault. Right? We are commanded to love everyone. I don't think that means that we're commanded to just distantly be fond of humans. Jesus Christ doesn't love me because I happen to fall under the same genus. He also doesn't love me based on my credentials (thank goodness). There's something more. What is it that he knows about me that lets him love me perfectly? Well that's just it: He doesn't just "know about" me, he knows me! With a little bit of thought about who we really are, it's easy to understand that we are something more than we give ourselves credit for. Are we able to see that in each other. Wouldn't that be the ultimate compatibility? Who isn't compatible with someone who feels personally responsible and motivated to really know you enough to really love you regardless of your credentials? I sure hope I am. Is there anyone who doesn't deserve that from me? can I be compatible with anyone? Anyone who has that same motivation, at least. In that case, any other deterrent can't be anything but superficial. I want to be the type of person who can be a friend with anyone, not just a replaceable friend, not a place holder.

There's been a accident...

Thorns hurt! I made the mistake of walking to a hot tub in my bare feet last night and got about infinity thorns in them. By the time I realized that what I was walking on was a little more than just really sharp gravel, it was too late. It's the worst when you have to do something more painful to escape the pain in which you already find yourself. With more abstract situations in life to which that same principle applies, like a bad relationship that you need to end, I'm sure it requires more moral resolve to consciously step on those figurative thorns, but for me in this very literal and specific application of that principle, I had no choice. Pure agony. After it was all done, I thought to myself: "what if I didn't make it?" not like the same type of "didn't make it" as in someone who gets attacked by sharks and doesn't "make it"; "An elephant sat on Bob last week, and he didn't make it." But what if the pain was so bad that I couldn't put any more weight on my feet? What if the pain was so unbearable that I fell down?! It would have been curtains for sure! so million thorns in my whole body... I don't think i would have made it. I've been laughing to myself all day at the thought. I imagine myself being very dramatic as I fall down, roll around, and start convulsing as consciousness leaves me. It's funny to think of myself as very fragile. I can't figure it out. I wish bad relationships were that humorous in retrospect.

Come on Alex! You can do it!

Sometimes I think about what I'm doing at any given time and wonder "if a snapshot was taken of me at this moment, would it be accurate in illustrating 'Alex'?". It's hard for me to decide whether I mean what I want people to think of me, or if it's accurate to who I really am. I think about it sometimes to the point of influencing the way I walk around, or how I'm talking to people, when I really should just be listening to what they're saying to me. I usually forget people's names as soon as they tell them to me because I'm too focused on how I'm going to introduce myself.
Today the snapshot thought came to me while I was in my psychological statistics class. I was sitting sideways in my desk with one of my legs rested on the empty chair next to me, my book open to the wrong chapter on the desk of the aforementioned empty chair, my Ipod on my lap with one of the headphones in my left ear (the ear closest to the back wall as to not be detected easily), and I was jotting down what the professor was writing on the blackboard, most likely just to convince myself that I had a reason to be in class. The thought kind of made me laugh, but I immediately put my pod away, sat up straight, and tried to concentrate harder on what was going on. I don't think I'd want many people to see that picture of me. A good picture says a thousand pictures. I want to be proud of my Alex movie. So I spent the rest of my time in class thinking about taking important things more seriously and forgot to learn what I was in there for.
Conclusion: I am very subconsciously self conscious. I'm pretty sure that's an oxymoron, but it's the only way I can describe how I feel, which is apparently very important to me. I just want everyone's attention to be on me as much as mine is. is that too much to ask?! I start my bowling class in 20 minutes. good luck to me not worrying too much about how I look when I'm bowling so I can actually learn something.

Gibbous a break!

I like to write a lot, I guess. I mean there are a lot of things that I write. Most of it is handwritten (I tell people I write everything by hand because I'm working on my handwriting... really it's just because I'm too cheap to get a computer). Those things usually get lost or just take so long that I never finish my thoughts and I eventually throw them away in dissatisfaction. I'm never able to write exactly what I'm thinking, either. I usually get too focussed on the aesthetics of what I'm writing that my thoughts get jumbled and robotic. What?! pretty handwriting is important to me. I have a journal (also handwritten) that I try to scribble things down in every so often, but for some reason, I'm unable to break free of the ridiculous/typical/"I'm being forced to write in my journal" format, so most of what I write embarrasses me at the thought of anyone else ever reading it. Earlier this year, I had a pocket-sized journal that I'd write thoughts in as they came to me. Being pocket-sized, I kept it in my pocket and wrote in it frequently enough to become proud of and somewhat attached to it. I lost it, and was so heartbroken about it that I couldn't get myself to pony up the $8 to buy another one. very frustrating. It's brown, leather, has a strap that wraps around it, and is riddled with secrets. if you find it, give it back. So, here I am, trying to solve all of my problems by appeal to the internet. I think everyone eventually comes to that conclusion these days. eHarmony.com. Chances are I won't write in this nearly as much as I intend to, but it's better than nothing.

I had always fancied myself a good writer. I think that's because I hadn't exposed myself to that much good writing. I have two brothers that I'm finding out more and more are amazing at it. Things like blogs have helped me realize this. I have a friend that has a blog that I casually creped upon the other day, and to put it simply, I was blown away. you should check it out: Robot Hearts. Not that I didn't expect it of her. I guess I'm just learning to be a lot less selfish and to focus on the amazing talents of my friends. That's how I'll put it so I can still take some of the credit. I think the only way I'll ever write as well as these people I admire so much is practice. Why not practice for the whole world to see? Delusions of grandeur. I doubt many people besides myself will ever look at this. I still think it's a good idea, or at least am in the process of convincing myself it is.