Fly away to a brighter day

The future looks golden, but only if we can keep our wits about us on the murky path upward. Gold or not, we keep moving on, taking time now and then to remind ourselves how far we have come from depths that were darker than dark.

A walk down Alki

Life is busier suddenly. Its good to finally have real deadlines and expectations that border on being unrealistic.

There is no way I can do justice to all. Some owe my allegiance over all others, till the end of days.

As the mince boils on the stove, and the water is not "separating from the fat" like it should, I see a chaotic pattern: the eternal struggle between now and forever.

Running away is easy. Its all a mindgame. Staying put is just as easy, if you think about it. Happy Cinco De Mayo to you too.

Each betrayal begins with trust
Every man returns to dust

-- Ray Anastasio, Farmhouse

The roads not taken

Do the roads not taken really exist outside of poetry?
Can we reach out into parallel universes?
Can we taste and smell alternative worlds?

Is it worth thinking about them? Do we have enough time to?

Measuring a summer's day
I only finds it slips away to grey
The hours they bring me pain.

-- Jimmy Page, "Tangerine", circa 1970.

Between waiting for the long days to end and living before its too late, a balance needs to obtain. Sooner rather than later.

Work

"Your work does not define your life." I have heard this one many times; it also comes with minor variations. However, work does become a significant part of our lives because it pays the bills and because you take up a job you enjoy doing. Consider this: If you were a rock star or a tennis superstar, your work would be your life. You would want it no other way, and neither would the millions who adore you. If you were a business tycoon or a politician, the same would hold.

So, it seems to me that if you are either rich, or famous, or both, then it you are not only allowed but also encouraged, or should I say, expected, to make your work your life. If not, you have to somehow have a "life" that is completely different from and more important than your "work."

While I do not promote people working 12 hour days or living in their office, I think a good balance is required. If work is not take seriously, maybe its time for a career change. If you think you are overworked, look for another job, or ask yourself if you can live happily with a lower paycheck.

Back when I was in elementary school, it seemed like school was my entire life. There were many Sunday nights (and panic Monday mornings) when I wondered if life can get any worse, since I hadn't done my homework that was assigned. However, I was told school was very important. I did try to stay at home to "spend quality time" with my parents, but I was forced to go to school, even if I were sobbing. Cut to 20 years into the future, and the prevalent attitude is that it is normal to "spend quality time" by taking time off from work.

Why was going to school more important than going to work?

I think people should decide for themselves. If you really love your work, you will spend time there as needed. If you really love your life outside of work, you will spend time there as well.

Chocolate Covered Grahams

Talent . Ive come across the word quite a few times in the recent past. Interestingly, the word is applied only to abilities related to the fine arts such as pencil sketching, painting, dancing, music, singing, and sometimes to sports.

Patience doesn't count as talent, neither does the ability to keep a cool head, to keep things in perspective, to be strong when everyone around you is losing their head.


Everyone is talented. Every single one of us. People work hard for things that are important in their lives. People are very talented.

The Notorious Mr. Wallace and the shining serpent

As Vishwas says: "Life is short, make it long."

Two short lives.

Wealth, drugs, and poetry.

Memories

• What are memories? Do they exist without consciousness?
• What is consciousness?
• What is a blog?
  
• Who is the chief of the Peruvian ministry for tourism?
• What does one fill in line G of IRS form 0603 SS-8PR? Why not anything else? Why?
  

These are fundamental questions that science is yet to answer. As things stand, this should clearly support my stance that science has given us more questions than answers. Science may be a good thing, but I am convinced that it's not good for humanity.

There is one other question I read somewhere online once, and it has haunted me since:

• Who is General Failure and why is he reading my hard disk?
  

Bitter Wine

A 200-pound labrador retriever was unhappy at being left alone in the back of a pickup truck in 10 degree weather. He decided in his freezing condition that he would opt out, and, at the next stop light, jumped out of the truck and towards a gas station. At the gas station, he waited patiently near the door for someone to push it open and entered behind that person. That person turned out to be a thief who held a gun to the gas station cashier's head and demanded all the money from the cash register. The retriever bit that person in the ass so hard that he (the thief) ran out of the store screaming. He didnt shoot the dog because he had no ammunition in his fake gun. The gas station cashier was pleased and let the dog stay there as a guard dog, eating all the skittles he wanted.

Moral : A bird in hand is worthless unless its on the endangered list, in which case, you're screwed.

Hunger struck

An old chair once found itself in panic because the dense crowd trying to squeeze into the subway trian seemed like it would prevent the chair from getting off the train and to an interview which held the promise of a better career. The chair was frustrated with its current job and wanted to move up. After a good bit of pushing, shoving, and grunting, the chair got off the train. As it was walking out of the subway station, an official performing random checks asked the chair for its ticket. The chair reached into its pocket and found it didnt have any. Didnt have any pockets, that is. The chair was slapped with a six hundred dollar fine and eighteen hours of community service. Because of the delay caused by this incident, and the ensuing stress, discomfort, and nervousness, the chair came accross as a fidgety kook and a nervous wreck in the interview. No hire.

Moral of story: Two wrongs do not make a right. Three..., maybe; but definitely not two. No way.

Whats the hurry

Music seems to be one thing that has at least one more dimension thatn the universe we live in. A magical transport out of existence and back.

Maybe I should revist my pointless stories with inane morals. That used to be fun. So, here goes:

There was once a pangolin who lived in a penthouse atop a skyscraper in Chicago. As the morning flights would approach O'Hare, they would veer dangerously close to her apartment, lost in the sticky clouds that obscure the winter sky in the windy city. One day, the pangolin had a scarecrow installed outside her window, and no planes bothered her anymore. However, the scarecrow scared the bejeezus out of her one night as she was ambling towards the kitchen for a midnight snack and she nearly peed her pants.

Moral of the story: If it says "Budget Gourmet" on the cover, dont expect much of a meal; you might enjoy the taste of the cardboard that it was packed in more than the pasta itself.

strands of life

Appears to me that our lives (Im generalizing based on the experience of one here, which is a gross misuse of statistics, I know) are strands of various different roles we play.

While physical discomfort can cause stress, most peoples stress is a result of conflict between these strands. When our life-strands are orthogonal, they do not interfere with each other; life seems stress free, but a kind of restlessness develops: One seeks out answers to questions such as "What is th epurpose of life?" or "What Am I here for?". This restlessness is due to our inability to pull all the strands together into a coherent flow. We have numerous little things flowing smoothly by themselves, but in infinite directions. The are many facets of life at work, personal life, and the ups and downs of ones health and finances that dont seem to form a coherent, fulfilling whole. We seem to be trying to manage multiple different lives.

Sometimes the strands just plain disagree with each other. Or so it seems. These are times of extreme emotional duress.

It seems like we wait fo that one moment when the clouds lift and there is a clarity of thought we never thought possible; the moment when it all makes sense, when we finally see all the strands comeing together as a single flow. Orthogonal strands still snake the way they always did, but our viewpoint shows us all of them as a unified stream. Conflicting strands melt into each other. Life makes sense. The answer seems trivial. The impermanence of all that exists suddenly makes the world a beautiful place.

p.s.: Deepak Chopra, your days at the top of the bestseller list are numbered.