Isolated

Hopefully, people don’t find this too similar to something I wrote earlier on, but it popped into my head yesterday as I was returning from a wedding.  Might not be the same at all, but I honestly won’t know until I’m done writing.

So this week, I am in Hungary.  It is now the third time I’ve been here, and that in and of itself is a strange condition.  Prior to this country, I had never returned to any single country aside from the US after the first time there.  Of course, I had never had family in those other locations as well, so that should explain all of that.  However, it is still a strange feeling when you leave home, fly for several hours (on average a nine hour flight) and land in a place that is familiar.  Something about that seems strange, but maybe that’s just me.

The first time I was here, it was to visit my then girlfriend (now my wife) and her family, as we were separated at the time by her enrollment in a study abroad program, and this was the place we would meet before she was to return home with me.  It was quite a bit of culture shock, considering I have spent the majority of my life in a major metropolitan city, and coming to a country where it is much quieter and slower was a bit jarring.  Not having everything readily available at all hours of the day takes a bit of adjusting to, and it was first real experience with something like that. 

The second time I was here, I was in the midst of completing my second wedding (the first having occurred in New York) and was too busy with preparation that first week here to really get my bearings.  Fortunately, after all the hoopla was completed, I was able to sit back, relax, and enjoy the city, with prior experience under my belt.  It did make it more comfortable, and ultimately more enjoyable than my first trip here, and I returned home to the US once again with my wife, ready to face the world.

This being my third time, you’d think it’d be old hat by now.  This time, I’m here for the wedding of my wife’s cousin, someone she is close with, but primarily to spend time with my wife.  Like the first visit here, I met her in Hungary, instead of flying here with her, because she was in another country prior, in order to pursue her own goals.  The event that I’m here for was much shorter than the previous visit, so the overall purpose is to just spend time with my wife.

Throughout all of my trips here, there has been one unifying feeling.  Despite being here with my significant other, I’ve always felt apart from everything.  There is a simple enough reason for this, as I don’t speak the language at all.  If you didn’t know, Hungarian is one of, if not the most, difficult languages on this planet to learn.  The pronunciation isn’t too hard, but the grammar is nearly impossible to just “pick up”.  Not to mention the words themselves are not relatable to any of the other languages that might be normally taught in western schools.  You won’t find any parallels with English, Spanish, French, Italian, or any of the romance languages.  Heck, I’m Chinese, and there’s no correlation with any of that language either.  It pretty much stands on its own, and I’m left here scratching my head.

The only reason I bring this up is that last night, during the wedding, it never felt quite as acute as when I was sitting there, watching the ceremony and reception take place.  Mind you, I had my own wedding here the year before, and that was more or less a traditional Hungarian wedding, but the master of ceremonies was translating for the sake of my friends, family, and myself, so I wasn’t at a complete loss.  Also, when you’re running around frantically trying to make sure all is well, you kind of don’t sweat the small stuff, like understanding what’s going on. 

Last night’s wedding was Hungarian at full intensity.  There were very few (by my count only two) English speakers (my wife and my brother in law) and it was kind of hard to ask them to translate, as they were involved in the festivities themselves.  While it’s all well and good to laugh when everyone else laughs, and to dance when everyone else dances, it is hard to maintain an air of jocularity when you are at a complete loss at everything around you.  I felt absolutely horrible, because I knew I was missing out on a very good time, and all due to my ignorance of the language.  Some of the wedding games were familiar enough, and didn’t need too much explanation, but there is a great deal of the celebration that relies on word play, and you miss out on a lot of that when you don’t know what anyone is saying.

It left me feeling quite alone in the middle of a large group, and by the end of the night, I was quite down on myself.  While there is a simple enough solution (learn the language) it is by no means easy.  It doesn’t help that I suck at language acquisition.  I’m picking up words here and there, but that hardly allows one to understand rapid moving events.

On top of all this, unlike my previous trips out here, I know that I will be returning home alone this time.  While it is absolutely wonderful, and completely necessary for my sanity to spend time with my wife here, there is also a great deal of sadness involved, since I know that we will be parting ways for some time once my vacation here is done.  She to Japan, me back to the US, and it kills me to think of that.  It just adds to this sense of feeling alone, because nothing quite says alone like sitting in a plane for nearly a dozen hours with no one to talk to. 

While I am enjoying the time I am here with my wife, I’m really not sure what to think about how I’m feeling.  It is all well and good to say “enjoy the moment” but unless you have the ability to completely block out the immediate future (which would be both a good and bad thing) then you are going to notice when time is running out.  I want to just be happy that I have her here, and for the most part I am, but times like last night make me remember how difficult it can be when you feel separated from everything around you, and to not have my wife to batter that away when I run into that again only makes me more depressed. 

Oh, in case you haven’t figured it out by now, yeah, I go through some severe bouts of being down.  I wouldn’t say depression, as I haven’t needed pharmaceuticals, but there are definitely times where I could care less about the world.

Anyway, after that aside, I have to make clear, I tend to feel alone in a crowd most of the time.  However, in most cases, I at least have that one person that, if I can make a connection with, it makes things easier.  It’s easier to spread out from a single point than to blanket a whole area, if that makes sense.  Normally, it’ll be a friend that I already have there, or if I’m lucky, I meet someone new, but in this situation with the wedding, that was all but impossible.  It only made me realize how much harder I have to work to not get lost in my own head.  I’ve heard that you have to be able to create your own happiness.  Last night served to show me how true that really is.

After looking back at this post after writing it, it had nothing to do with any of my previous posts, but it is a bit whiny.  Sorry about that, but it was bugging me, and I figured someone out there might know the feeling.  It might only be for those who’ve had cross-culture relationships, but I think it applies to a lot of people anyway, whether it’s a language barrier, a culture barrier, or even a barrier created by your general interests (IE, you’re at a sports bar, and you’ve never liked sports).  Feeling alone is one of the crummiest feelings, and it can happen anywhere, anytime.  I just wish I knew a way to combat it that would work for everyone, but at this point, I’m just looking for a way to deal with it myself.

Digging Out

I’m not sure how common it is for people out there, but I go through somewhat regular bouts of depression.  Nothing medically diagnosed, but just times where I feel like there’s very little to care about.  People have been asking me lately how I’ve been, and the majority of the time, it’s some level of depressed.  This is probably a problem. 

I’ve always just sort of accepted depression as a part of life.  I’ve never been one to have high highs, so I kind of go through plains and valleys.  Not very many peaks.  There’s no logical reason for it.  It’s not like someone I cared for has died recently (although there’s still question, at least in my own head, over how I have handled the deaths of certain loved ones, regardless of how much time has passed), or there’s anything particularly negative about my life.  I have great friends, a good family, an incredible wife, and a job that I tolerate for the most part.  Funks just seem to hit me.

It always makes me wonder though, how people handle their depression.  For the most part, I try to slog through it, trying to some degree to intellectualize the situation away.  There is a proverb that I’m sure many of you have heard, stating “This too shall pass.”  I try to approach these down periods with this in mind, since I know that invariably, something will come along to lift me out of the doldrums.  But even as mild as my depressions may be, it’s still difficult to climb out of that hole that you basically dig for yourself.  You’re more likely to dig yourself deeper, and a lot of the ways that people try to cheer you up may only serve to make it worse in the long term.

When you try to distract yourself from depression, you only serve to delay the emotions tied to it.  At best, you forget about it an move on, not really dealing with the whys and the whats.  At worst, the distraction only serves to drive you further down into the pit.  Most examples of this particular mode of distraction lies in vices.  Drinking, drugs, gambling, sex, etc etc.  The only real way to combat depression is to find the root cause, and confront it.

Of course, this is easier said than done.  How many people have rational and logical depressions?  How many people actually know what’s making them feel like crap?  I’m just speaking for myself, but when I’m down, it’s nearly always this vague feeling of unease, it’s rarely a concrete reason.  Something inside is restless, and aggravated, and can’t seem to find relief in expression or action, no matter how much time you may spend trying to find an answer to why. 

I consider myself a pretty introspective guy, but depression sort of mutes everything.  Thinking gets muddled, senses are dulled, and the enjoyment that you once had for things lessens greatly.  You have a hard time seeing what might be right in front of you, which only serves to perpetuate the depression. 

So what can be done?  I won’t presume to tell you what’ll work for you, but I’ve tried a whole bunch of stuff for myself, and some of it worked, some of it was pointless.  I’ve tried the whole drinking route.  Short-lived, because the momentary euphoria I felt during the drunken spell was quashed quite handily by the following morning hangover.  There have been times where I was self-destructive, trying stupid things to get myself out of a funk, to feel alive, and while that momentary rush may have been enjoyable, when I look back on it, it was pretty stupid. 

I’ve tried therapy, and there was some aid in that, because it got me to examine myself in ways I hadn’t thought of before.  There was some catharsis there, but it was a double-edged sword.  While it may have brought some clarity any current situations, it also brought up questions about past situations, and while they may be in the past, it puts them in a new light, which may affect current relationships.  Doesn’t happen that way for everyone, but it did for me.

The only thing that has worked consistently for me has always been time with friends.  Time to sit, and talk, and just know that there are people out there who truly care for your well-being.  People who want to be there for you, to make sure you don’t suffer alone.  I’ve been fortunate that I’ve had friends who have put up with my many bouts of depression, who are willing to humor my endless rhetorical questions.  Sure, there may be times that they’ve expressed severe frustration with me, but they only spoke truthfully to me, and at the end of the day, that’s all I really need. 

There is also a lot to be said about helping others in need during times when you’re feeling alone and isolated.  I don’t mean you have to go out and save the world, but I always get a little boost when I give someone a helping hand.  It’s temporary, but there’s nothing at all negative about helping someone, so you’re at least spreading what joy you can.  Sometimes it can help put your life in perspective, or at the very least, you can feel appreciated for that one moment. 

I think one of the biggest problems that we face on a regular basis is that we tend to take life for granted.  Not everyone mind you, and those people who don’t live some pretty amazing lives, but for a lot of us, I think we just assume that there will be a tomorrow, so we sort of end up putting off feeling good for another day, because it’s just too hard.  It takes effort to be happy, mainly cause when you’re feeling down, it takes so much effort to get yourself out of it.  Staying happy is also pretty difficult, because it just seems like sometimes, the entire world is out to ruin your day.  There have definitely been days where I just felt like everything I did only ended up with me being more miserable than when I started the day.  It’s times like that where I really have to stop myself, and try to remember, “Nothing lasts forever.  Make sure to spend your energy enjoying your good moments, and not waste energy on the bad ones."  It still takes great effort, but at least it’s energy spend wisely.

Nostalgic Much?

I’ve been having this really nagging feeling at the back of my head.  For some reason, over the past few months, I’d even dare to say over the past year plus, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about reconnecting with my past.  I think it really started when I was able to find a friend whom I knew in elementary school, and found that despite the years we’ve spent apart, and whatever events in our lives may have shaped us in that time, we were still capable of being really good friends.  Since that time, I’ve been on sort of a hunt for people through the course of my life that I’ve considered important, and have always regretted letting them fade into the background of my story.

Part of it has to do with nostalgia.  Fond memories of past events, or people tend to carry a lot of weight to them.  So much weight in fact, that some people suffocate underneath it, and can only live in the past, unable to face the present, or plan for the future.  I’ve been fortunate that I have been, for the most part, able to live in the present.  However, I do still hold a lot of great memories from when I was younger, at least in my head. 

The danger in nostalgia is that you may remember things in a much better light than they were actually cast.  Psychologically, as we get older, it’s much easier to remember the good things, and ignore the bad things, if for no other reason than it’s to keep you sane.  This can lead to some pretty warped memories for those who have been through particularly trying times in their life, where it seems as if their very history has been rewritten.  This is how people can end up in severely abusive relationships, as they can only remember the good, and figure that the bad won’t last as long, despite the fact that it might have lasted over the course of the entire relationship already. 

Despite that, there is something rewarding when you have nostalgic memories of people, and later, when you reconnect with these people, you find that the relationship with these people only serve to further improve your memories of them in the past.  I can’t describe the feeling that you get when you see someone again after a very long time, I’m talking decades, and find that as much as you cherished the friendship and companionship that you had with them before, that when you’re with them now, it’s even better.  There’s just something supremely satisfying about feeling like holding onto the memory of a particular someone is validated because they’re still awesome so many years later.

I’ve always said it’s important that the people you choose to be in your life are good people.  To some degree, I apply this to people that I keep in my memories as well.  Obviously, memories are a little harder to control, and you will remember what or who you will remember, but there is still some conscious effort involved in trying to remember someone.  When you’ve taken that effort to remember that person, it’s nice to know it wasn’t time or energy wasted.

Of course, this extends to people beyond just friends.  One of the greatest pleasures in my life, and especially recently, has been reconnecting with teachers that I had always looked up to during my formative years.  Here were these people who you you relied upon to infuse you with knowledge, to assist in your growth as a person, and the majority of what you remember about them were their mannerisms in class, and how stern they were, or how much homework they gave you.  Years later, when they no longer feel the pressure of being responsible for your development as an adult, and they can let things go and just be themselves, you realize “You know, I knew I liked this person for a reason.” 

To find out your teachers were honestly HUMAN!  To find out their character flaws, and to know that they had similar thoughts to what you had during that same time period.  Intellectually, I knew all of this happened, but to hear it for yourself in person from the mouths of the very people you looked up to as you were going through your growing pains… the only reaction I could have was to laugh, and honestly, it felt so amazing to just connect with them on that level. 

To no longer have that wall of teacher and student, and to be able to relate as peers ( to a degree) has been a joy that I would never have thought plausible back then.  Admittedly, it’s still weird to call them by their first name when you spent so many years calling them Mr./Ms. Whatever, but it’s such a great feeling to actually be able to do that.  It almost feels like a rite of passage.  To graduate from, “Hey Mr. Blankity Blank” to “Hi Mike” or whatever their actual name is.  Maybe I’m just a recovering teachers pet (although anyone who knew me through high school could hardly call me that), but it’s nice to just see them again and learn more about who they were, and more importantly, who they are.

Overall, I think nostalgia is important, because it’s hard to know where you’re going when you don’t know where you’ve been.  Looking back to the past allows you to take stock of what you’ve done to get to the point of where you are.  However, it’s just as important to follow up on it, lest it stay just a pleasant memory, with no real basis in reality after too much time has passed.  To find out that things or people who filled you with so much joy in the past are still capable of doing so; I think that just makes the memories even better, but also, they help you to further your growth, because you realize that you haven’t been fooling yourself for all that time.  I believe, with that under your belt, you find yourself able to enjoy even more so, the new events and experiences that will come into your life.  I recommend reconnecting with your past.  It’ll make your future that much brighter.

Drunken Wisdom…

This is sort of an oxymoron.  Normally there’s nothing intelligent about anyone when they’re drunk.  However, I was out celebrating with some people tonight, so I thought I’d perform a little experiment.  This will be written with a relatively healthy buzz in place, with no edits (save for grammatical errors later on for ease of reading) and what’s basically on my mind.  Maybe it’ll be fun, maybe it’ll be retarded, but I like to try these little experiments, so bear with me.

So what’s on my mind?  Not much to be honest, mainly because the world is a wonderful place right now.  I guess it depends on what kind of drunk you are (I tend to be a happy drunk) but right now, all of my worries are sort of not important.  Focus is difficult enough (which is funny to say considering I’m trying to type this out), so thinking about things that require a lot of introspection or forward thinking is not exactly very high on my list of priorities.

My sense of balance is a bit off, as I was playing beer pong earlier (something I will likely never do again) and I kept crashing into things…. people, tables, chairs, etc etc.  However, who cares?  Everyone had a laugh.  The one thing I’ve been fortunate with is that I”m not a blackout drunk, or someone who makes a complete fool of themselves when I’ve had a few.  Coordination is always a problem though, but I think I can focus just enough to keep myself from falling into the train tracks on the way home, or anything similar to that.

The most interesting thing is that despite my inhibitions being quite loose (certain conversations that I can’t mention here), I’m still capable of intellectualizing the situation and take the proper steps.  What do I mean?  Basically, instead of letting my body take over, and the drunkenness take over my actions, I can still think, and at least see consequences of my actions.  This is pretty true no matter how far gone I may be, so I’m fortunate in that sense.  Admittedly, I’ll say some outrageous things when I’m nice and tipsy (some of which those of you who know me have heard and have had a good laugh), but I’ll still be relatively collected.

I guess paying attention to how I feel now, I’ll never understand how people allow themselves to get to the point where they’re so drunk they don’t remember where they were, or what they did.  I’m in a good place right now, and this is probably what the purpose of a good buzz is, in order to divert yourself away from the heavy things on your mind, but people take it too far, and end up completely losing themselves.  I have always found it important to maintain my self, my presence, so maybe I don’t let myself get too far gone, but I find it hard to understand why people would willingly allow themselves to end up in a wreck.  It boggles the mind. 

Anyway, this is short and sweet, cause I’m sleepy, but maybe I’ll expand on this another day.  Either when I stumble home from a long night, or when I’ve had more time to think about the concept of being inebriated.  Anyhoot, till next time.

Bifurcated…

After suffering through writer’s block for the majority of the last week, I think I’ve finally figured out what to write about.  It’s going to get a bit personal, because it’s mainly dealing with my emotions over the last month, so feel free to ignore it.  I just needed to get my mind cleared, because something has been gnawing at me for a while now, and I think I’m finally able to express it… although it may kinda suck.

I’ve been bouncing back and forth between intense depression and an irresistible urge to create.  This has been expressed by a lack of desire to do anything, followed by periods of intense blog writing or cooking.  This in turn has led me to feel more tired than at any other point in the past several years, which is saying a lot considering how long I’ve held multiple jobs, and working nearly 80 hours a week for several months during that stretch.  Emotionally, I’ve been a bit of a mess, and I honestly haven’t had much success in figuring out how to level everything off.

My moods appear to be paralleling the upcoming decision that I’ll have to make, and I’ve been wracking my mind in order to make sense of it all.  What is this decision you ask?  Well, even if you didn’t ask, I’ll tell you, because I can do that with my own blog.  It’s a simple enough question, but with implications that will affect the direction my life will go.  This is it: should I stay or should I go?

As many of you know, my wife has left for Japan to teach in the JET program.  She will be there for a minimum of a year.  I had originally applied for the opportunity to go there through the same program as well, but I was unfortunately rejected.  This led to the current situation where, with our wedding anniversary less than two weeks away, we are literally on opposite ends of the Earth.  I have been lamenting this fact ever since I learned that she was accepted and decided to go.  Although the anniversary is technically just another day, especially considering we’ve been together for almost 5 years now, there is something to be said for having made it to our first anniversary as a married couple.  Us being apart on that day has been harder on me than I’ve let on.  I hate it, but there’s not much I can do about it, as it’s all but impossible for us to be together that day. 

Anyway, as you can see, the main problem is the distance.  I hate the fact that we have to be apart.  The simplest solution to rectifying this problem is to pick up and move to Japan.  Some of you might be saying, “and?  If it’s the simplest, then go for it.”  However, as with many things in life, the simplest answer may not be the easiest.  By going, I am taking quite a risk, and to be honest, it’s a scary proposition. 

The risk lies in the fact that I’d have to leave everything behind, including my job.  As anyone knows, leaving a perfectly good job is a difficult idea to follow, as there seems to be a pretty high unemployment rate out there.  In line with this, I’m a person who needs security in his life, and picking up and leaving for Japan without prospects of a job honestly feels a bit shortsighted to me.  It might be fun while I’m there, with my wife taking care of me, but what happens when the program ends?  Sure, there’s a chance that I might be able to get a job out there, but there’s just as much likelihood that I won’t, and to me, that seems more likely, since I don’t speak the language. 

However, this isn’t the only reason why I’m hesitant to go.  My main problem with going is leaving everyone behind.  My family and my friends.  I’ve spent a lifetime building these relationships, and while I know moving away doesn’t mean that these relationships will end, it does put a severe strain on them.  We’ve all heard of the phrase “out of sight, out of mind.”  I’d hate to lose touch with all of these people that have meant so much to me.  Anyone who knows me, knows that I would gladly give my life for any one of my friends.  If I’ve chosen to have you in my life, and if I call you a friend, then you know I’ll have your back, in whatever capacity I can help.  The people in my life mean so much more than people might think, to the point where I’m not sure I could ever properly express it. 

Of course, there are just as many reasons to go.  First and foremost, as I’ve stated already, I hate being apart from my wife.  After finally finding the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, I’m forced to be apart from her.  That’s pretty damn ridiculous.  Of all the people in my life, she is the most important, without question, and that takes precedence over nearly anything else. 

Secondly, it might just be time for me to take a risk.  I’ve played it relatively safe my entire life, especially when it comes to my job.  I’ve done jobs where I’m naturally skilled at it, what with all of my jobs centering around computers in some way or another.  I love technology, but having to do it as a job kind of kills some of the joy.  Not to mention I’ve been doing it for so long, there are times where I definitely feel bored with it.

On top of all of this, there are a lot of circumstances that have to be dealt with as well.  First, if I do decide to go to Japan, my wife would first have to be offered the opportunity for additional time there, as going there for a mere six months is just taking a stupid risk. It would take me that long just to get comfortable, not to say find a job.  Second, there is the possibility that I may be able to gain a promotion at my job that would give me a whole new set of responsibilities, primarily that of being in a management position.  That would honestly renew my interest in the job, as well as provide me the opportunity to work just one job instead of the two that I’m doing now.  It would be an incredible opportunity, and I’d be foolish to pass it up, as it would improve my resume and my life in general for the future. 

There just feels like so many decisions to be made, so many things that have to happen, and consequentially, so many things on my mind.  It feels like I can’t stop thinking about all of this, and it’s wearing me out.  I hate the fact that I have to choose between my life here, that I’ve spent so much time building, and my life with my wife, which would be an adventure.  I really wish I could do both, but I can’t exist in two places at once.  I feel like I’m being pulled apart into two completely opposite directions, and I don’t know how to handle it.  I’m not sure which way is the best way to go, and unfortunately, I’m someone who hates to act, in fact I’m pretty much paralyzed, unless I’m sure.  I’m going to have to make a decision soon though.  I guess all I can do is to make the decision, and hope for the best. 

At least I was able to get it out of my head for now.  Putting things down into words that can be read, examined, and considered is kind of cathartic.  Hopefully getting it out there will help me come to a decision.  Whatever happens, wish me luck.  I know I’m going to need it.

Faith and Misery

Ok, this one might make me a few enemies.  Faith is always a touchy subject, but I’ve been thinking about this for what seems like forever, and I’m in the right frame of mind to expound on some of my thoughts.  Feel free to comment, good or bad.  I’d like to hear your thoughts, because I’ve got a ton of questions, and definitely no answers.  I do have an idea though.  Get comfy, because this is going to be a long one…

Personally, I’ve always had an issue with religious faith.  I could never wrap my mind around something that had no proof.  The practice of religious faith seems to me to be having a belief in a greater being that is supposed to watch over you, and wishes you nothing but the best, but when things go horribly wrong for you, it is just part of his (and usually it’s a he for some reason) ultimate plan.  You’re not supposed to question it, you’re not supposed to lament it; you’re just supposed to accept it, appreciate that you have the life you have, and continue having faith that everything will work out, as long as you believe in the greater being.  For those of you who have great faith, that may have been an insulting summary, and I apologize if you took it that way, but that is honestly how I understand it.  I am just presenting my perspective on it, because that is what I have observed of this peculiar phenomenon called religious faith.

The thing that has always gotten me about this type of faith is that it almost seems that you are praised for not questioning.  As long as you follow all the rules, perform all the rituals, and never blaspheme against this higher power, you are considered a pious and faithful person, and fellow followers expect you to be rewarded for this behavior in the next life.  How is it possible that when bad things happen, these people are still able to keep such strong faith?  Losing a child, being disfigured, getting financially ruined, war, disease, crime, etc, etc.  All of these things exist in this world, and yet people are still capable of believing in a higher being that loves and cares for them.  I’m honestly confused.

Now, let me clarify something before I get any further, and before someone decides to call me a godless heathen.  I do not follow any organized religion, and I do not prescribe to any religious dogma or ritual.  However, this does not mean I am an atheist.  I do not believe that there is no god, or that there was no higher power that may have helped to begin everything.  I just honestly don’t know, and I’m not going to proclaim to have the answer one way or the other.  All I have are questions, ideas, and hypotheses.  As I have mentioned in prior entries, I am not arrogant enough to claim that I know the answers.  All I can do is keep an open mind, but that doesn’t mean I have to accept everything that is placed in front of me.  When there is a lack of consistency, or evidence of proof, I am inclined to ask questions, and dig around a bit in order to discover, if not the answer, then at least the reasons why the questions must exist in the first place.  This may of course just lead to more and more questions, but that’s just the kind of guy I am.  I warned you I’m kind of strange.

Having said that, this is my take on organized religion.  I believe that a long time ago, when people were first creating language and became truly self-aware, there was a need for something to unify them.  There is nothing quite as frightening as realizing that you’re going to die, and that there is nothing you can do about it.  In order to provide peace and comfort, someone put together a message that was presented to the masses in order to calm their fears.  “There is life after death, there is something beyond this life.”  When this was generally accepted, it’s possible that people became reckless and began to act as if there was nothing to lose.  In order to quell this rising tide of anarchy and chaos, they instilled fear into people with the threat of eternal torment in order to bring order.  When this proved to be effective, people found that you could use this power to their own advantage, and created rules and rituals that benefited the “leaders” of the religions. 

Why would I think this?  Well, because if there truly were a god that is all powerful, why would he or she or it (they really do need to come up with a pronoun that applies to an omnipotent being with no gender because “it” always feels like you’re referring to an inanimate object or a dumb animal) need to rely on a human in order to deliver its message?  Oh, I know the reasons that are given.  “Only the chosen ones can understand the message",” or “the common man would be unable to fathom the message,” or my favorite, “"if god talks to you, your head will explode.” ( That last one was from the movie “Dogma,” and may not be actual religious canon, but it’s still my favorite)  To all of these claims, I simply posit the question, “If god is so powerful… don’t you think he’d be able to get his message across to anyone and everyone that he wanted to?”  Oh, and for those who go “He’s always talking to us, there are those of us just not listening,” I point you to examples in the Bible where God decided to destroy the world with a flood, and Sodom and Gamorrah with meteors.  I’ve noticed any time I ever bring these questions or examples up to those who are highly religious, I am normally met with a look of disgust, and the comment “You just don’t understand faith.”  At which point, I want to yell, “EXACTLY! THAT’S WHY I”M ASKING!”

The biggest fault I can find with organized religion is the fact that everything is communicated by humans.  The same humans that throughout history have proven to be capable of lying, cheating, stealing, and manipulating others in order to reach their own ends.  Everyone knows the phrase “absolute power corrupts absolutely” (and if not, I’ve brought it up a handful of times myself") and when you have the ability to influence thousands, if not millions of people, then I would consider that about as close to absolute power as you can get.  How can anyone be sure that the originators of modern day religions were not simply really charismatic scam artists?

Modern day religions remind me of this little allegory I once heard.  There once was a cage of monkeys.  In one end of the cage was a banana, on the other end stood 6 monkeys.  Whenever a monkey would approach the banana, a hose would be turned on all of them.  Eventually, the monkeys were trained to associate approaching the banana with getting hosed.  This was then followed by replacing one fo the monkeys with a new monkey.  Inevitably, the new monkey would approach the banana, but the other 5 monkeys would grab at the monkey, possibly beating it or doing whatever they could to keep the monkey from approaching the banana.  Eventually, the new monkey would learn not to approach the banana for fear of being assaulted.  When this point has occurred, another of the original monkeys is replaced, and as with the first, it too would approach the banana.  However, now, the previous new monkey would attack the newer monkey along with the originals, because that had been what had happened to it.  This would continue until all the original monkeys were replaced.  Eventually, you would have 6 monkeys that were never hosed, who would still not approach the banana for fear of violent denial.  Why?  Because that’s how it’s always been done.

I’m not calling religious followers monkeys.  Far from it, because some of the most intelligent people I know are highly religious.  The only reason I bring up the story is because sometimes, people do things without finding out the reasons why they do it.  It almost feels like people are afraid to ask questions, because they are scared to find out that the things that they’ve been doing all along have no point.  They don’t want to feel as though they’ve wasted their life and their time, so they continue on in their behavior, because it’s easier than dealing with the possibility that things might not be what they appear to be.  This goes for more then just religious practices by the way.  It’s evident in any organization where practices have been in place for decades if not centuries.  You see it all the time, where people are wasteful, or do nonsensical things, and when you ask them why, they’ll tell you “Because that’s how it’s done.”

After reading this, or for the people who know me and are followers of religion, the question is inevitably posed, “So what do you have faith in?”  My faith lies within myself, and with the people I choose to have in my life.  I believe that through my own ability, and through the actions of my friends and family, that things will ultimately end up, if not great, then right.  I have faith that the people I have chosen to be in my life will always do what is best for themselves and for me, and that they would not willingly bring me any harm, as they believe that I will do no harm to them.  This faith has been rewarded time and time again, and I couldn’t be happier with the people that I have in my life. 

I figure this.  You wouldn’t trust or have faith in someone that has screwed you over several times, right?  So how can people believe in any god that would continually allow horrible things to happen to them, or allow bad things to happen in the world or general?  For those who bring up the concept of “free will” to explain away some of the issues, I’m applying my logic towards disease, natural disasters, or just horrible bad luck.  There has never been an explanation that has satisfied my curiosity towards that question.  So please, if you have a point of view that I may not have considered, share it.  I really want to know how it’s possible.

What’s your pleasure, what is your pain?

Yeah, I stole this title from a song lyric. If you know where it comes from, kudos! If not, then you’ll just have to find out what’s on my Zune, cause I got it from something that I’m listening to now.

Anyway, I was pretty political with the last blog, so I feel it might be time to bring back some of the philosophy, and it’s triggered by this nagging feeling I’ve had recently. This feeling, in turn, led to some pretty long conversations, which of course brings it here for you wonderful people to peruse. So maybe I should get into it huh?

For quite a while now, I’ve lived a pretty typical existence. I’ve done what your average person has done, been through what your average person has been through. I think you know what I’m talking about; going to school, going to college, finding a job, getting together with friends for drinks on occasion, etc. But there’s always been one thing that I’ve always felt has been missing, and the strange thing is I’m not sure I’m missing it because I actually miss it, or because I’m supposed to miss it. What is this mysterious thing that I’m talking about?

To put it plainly, it’s a passion for something. To have something that drives me, that I would devote myself to if given the opportunity. I’m not speaking simply of a hobby that I have some interest in, I’m speaking of something that you spend the majority of your free moments thinking about, something that you would somehow figure out a way to do for the rest of your life which might have the possibility of making a living from it, but in reality, you would do it regardless of any income. When I think about my life, I don’t recall any such feeling. I just recall feeling the need to move on to the next thing, in order to make sure my life proceeded “correctly”, at least by the standards that I had set for myself, which were, in and of themselves, based on the standards that I saw of everyone around me. I’m not sure if there’s anything that defines who I am.

Please understand, it’s not that I am without passion. I believe I am passionate on any number of subjects, and hopefully, through some of the things you’ve read from me, that you have seen the evidence to back up that claim. However, to have something that you absolutely love doing, that nearly consumes your being, and helps to define who you are, THAT is the thing that seems to be missing from my life. I seem to see it in nearly everyone around me, and yet, when I think of myself, there just isn’t that same identifier, that thing that I’m known for. I wonder if that’s not the reason for my general malaise, and near apathy about life in general.

However, at the same time, is such a thing really necessary? I wonder about the need to be completely consumed. Of those I’ve seen who have that passion, at least half of them seem to suffer for their craft. While they may say that they enjoy it, because the final product (whatever it may be) is well worth the effort, I have to wonder about how good it must be for their health. I know myself, I hate suffering. I can’t stand the idea of feeling utterly hopeless because of something that I love doing, either because I can’t do it, or I’m not doing it well. I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so I know what my reactions would be like if I was passionate about something, but sucked at it. If it was a lifelong passion, that would only cause greater suffering. Granted if I were to have a lifelong passion, there’s no guarantee which direction I would end up, since that’s one of life’s little tricks. If I knew beforehand how much I would enjoy something, that would make everything so much easier, but life, of course, doesn’t work that way.

So now you see my dilemma. I long for something to define me, something that I love to do, but at the same time, I’m not sure if I really need it. I’ve felt for some time now that I’m just sort of doing the things that I’ve always needed to do, things that are expected of me, in order to progress through life. However, I want to have something for myself that I truly want to do, although I have yet to discover what it is, if in fact there is such a thing. Do I need it in order to live a happy and fulfilled life? I haven’t the faintest idea. I just know that for the time being, that’s what I want, but is it really something I need? Well, the wants vs needs argument is something I’ll save for another time, but suffice it to say, this has been causing me some degree of difficulty, thinking about this matter. Alas, I may never find an answer, because it requires something to just hit me, and inspire the passion within me, and there’s no guarantee that this sort of thing happens for everyone.

I guess what it really comes down to, for me anyway, is that I really wonder how other people come to find these passions of theirs. It seems as if it is just implanted at birth, and that it grows and blooms at some period in their life (normally pretty early) and it acts as a driving force behind their growth and the evolution as a person. If that were the case, am I just a really late bloomer in that regard, or do I just not have that seed? More questions to ponder, more things to fill my mind. Well, at the very least, I have this landing dock for the nonsense in my head.