hopelesshappiness.com

As each day passes, we are smarter. Perhaps In different ways than the previous day, but nonetheless, ...smarter.

This week I finished the book "The Better Angels of our Nature" by Steven Pinker. Keeping in mind that "by definition" the average IQ score must be 100, Pinker points out (on page 626) that to comply with this definition "the companies that sell IQ tests periodically renorm the scores." On page 627 he goes on to say:

"An average teenager today, if he or she could time-travel back to 1950, would have had an IQ of 118. If the teenager went back to 1910, he or she would have had an IQ of 130, besting 98 percent of his or her contemporaries. Yes, you read that right... ...a typical person today is smarter than 98 percent of the people in the good old days of 1910. To state it in an even more jarring way, a typical person of 1910, if time-transported forward to the present, would have a mean IQ of 70, which is at the border of mental retardation.?"

Pinker goes on to explain that the good people of 1910 were not at all mentally retarded; they were just utilizing the intelligence necessary for that time and place. Gains in intelligence over the decades since have been in areas of abstract reasoning, which I interpret as necessary for the technological advances that have created the smaller world of this time and place. It appears that within a given time and circumstance, we utilize the intellectual skills necessary for progress and adaptability. And while (for me) this is encouraging, I might also argue that many individuals, (perhaps even a majority), could (and should) put forth more effort to stay ahead of (or at least with) the leading edge of innovative thought and abstract, connective reasoning.

According to the dictionary app on my phone, stupidity is "Lacking ordinary quickness and keenness of mind." Just as the bar for 'average intelligence' has been raised since 1910, so too has the bar that measures 'ordinary quickness and keenness of mind'. I believe that 'stupidity' today is a reflection of one's inflexibility and inability to expand thought into ever-widening circles of possibility; while in 1910 stupidity might have been attributed to one who was unable to cipher with pencil and paper or recite the state capitols. To some, this contrast of intelligence and stupidity may sound harsh. To me it is simply a different phrasing of previous written thought on the dangers of certainty and the mutual beneficence of uncertainty. "So what" if your cashier at the convenience store cannot count back your change. While this lack of skill is to some a sad reflection of the times, the reality is that this skill is not necessary for these times. This ordinary convenience store clerk may very well be extraordinary in ways unheard of in 1910; and yet his incredible skills (by 1910 standards) may still translate into 'ordinary' in this time and place.

One hundred years ago our circles of influence were more tightly bound in family and community creating and allowing for a higher degree of certainty based on this smaller in-group consensus. Today, not only are our in-groups larger (up to and including all of humanity) but we as individuals are often attached to a greater number and diversity of in-groups, which in turn create uncertainty and require adaptability.

I have been on vacation this past week enjoying the company - and the technological wizardry - and the social savvy - of my three-and-a-half year old granddaughter. Living several hundred miles away, I don't see her (or my daughters) nearly as often as I would like, but when I am exposed to this youngest grand-generation, I really am encouraged. The children growing up today with the technology of today, and the more subtle advances of today, (I believe) will spend less time marveling and more time asking questions that will lead to productively beneficial solutions.

I believe that this grand-generation will adapt and learn to reject certainty and actively accept uncertainty as the new norm - and that is encouraging.

This week I have been thinking about trombones; and I would like to know how many is too many?

If they all play the same exact tune, in tune, depending on the space and audience, two trombones may be too many.

If one or two trombones play the melody and all other trombones play variations and accompaniment, then (again, depending on the space and audience) any multitude of trombones may not be too many.

If you don't like trombone music, one trombone may be too many.

If you grow weary of trombone music, one trombone may be too many.

If you prefer listening to the flute, or the trumpet, or the clarinet, or the violin, or the saxophone, instead of the trombone, then you are likely to prefer that the trombone be relegated to accompaniment only, and any volume of trombones greater than the volume of flutes, or trumpets, or clarinets, or violins, or saxophones, is too many trombones.

If you play the flute, or the trumpet, or the clarinet, or the violin, or the saxophone, and you do not play the trombone, then you cannot fully understand the trombone.

If you do not play the flute, or the trumpet, or the clarinet, or the violin, or the saxophone, or the trombone, then you cannot fully understand the necessity (or in some cases, even grasp the concept) of interdependent harmony.

If you do not play the flute, or the trumpet, or the clarinet, or the violin, or the saxophone, or the trombone, then you are more likely to gravitate toward music dominated by simple, comfortable vocals.

If you play the flute, or the trumpet, or the clarinet, or the violin, or the saxophone, or the trombone, then you learn to appreciate the steadying and stimulating influence of percussion.

So just how many trombones is too many trombones?

I believe we have too many trombones...
...and too few flutes
...and a weak drummer
...and saxophones that are out of tune
...and trumpets that hijack the melody
...and violinists trying to play fiddle
...and fiddlers trying to play violin
...and clarinets slowing down the tempo
...and vocalists stealing the spotlight
...and batonless leaders who do not play the flute, or the trumpet, or the clarinet, or the violin, or the saxophone, or the trombone.

This week I am working at sorting through my responsibilities; some of which are always at odds, and some of which have recently progressed to drawing up battle plans.

Is a personal responsibility a burden of obligation? Or is it an opportunity for reasoned growth? Perhaps it is (or should be) both.

Digging deeper, what is the difference between a 'responsibility for' and a 'responsibility to'? ... ... After some thought, I see 'a responsibility for' as involving ownership and control, whereas 'a responsibility to' would suggest the necessity of volitional action. And perhaps herein lies the conflict. Perhaps I should let go of feelings of ownership, and perhaps I should actively acknowledge the reality that control is elusive and (often) illusive. And by letting go, perhaps I can more freely focus on actions that (based on the virtue of my willingness to act) are less burdensome - actions that will advance reasoned growth.

When I first drew up the list below, (prior to the thought above), I included 'my wife and children' and 'my extended family' at the top of the list. I see now that I cannot be completely responsible 'for' another individual, but I can be responsible 'to' others through the willing actions listed below; (and I believe by working hard at these obligations, the potential influence will be greatest on those closest to me).

I have a responsibility...

• to actively care for my physical health;
• to perpetuate lifelong learning;
• to contribute productively;
• to grow spiritually;
• to question everything;
• to compassionately listen for understanding;
• to be truthful;
• to maintain a sense of humor;
• to minimize harm;
• to seek personal, familial, communal, global, and universal reconciliation.

Though I feel that (with an active awareness of the avaricious overindulgence of ownership and control) I can reduce the potential for conflict, I still have a list that has considerable potential for contentious contradiction.

These days I struggle mightily working at a balance of truthfulness and minimal harm; and I do so on many different fronts. In this struggle, according to the circumstance, I will predict the likelihood of my truthfulness being heard and understood vs. the likelihood of a greater harm, and I temper this calculation with the acknowledgement that not only is my truthfulness not a Perfect Truth, but my truthfulness (in the spirit of 'question everything') is (though truthful and confident) still inherently rife with uncertainties and doubts.

These days I struggle working at a balance of physical health and productive contribution. I have physical limitations that I work at compensating for with an effort toward serious study and lifelong learning, translated into weekly written thought. It has been observed (by myself and others) that this degree of determined focus and absorption at times results in excess stress, which in turn may impact physical health.

These days I struggle working at a balance of humor and responsibility. I take all responsibility (including my responsibility to maintain a sense of humor) seriously. To interject humor is to lubricate the gears, thus reducing the friction as I work at balancing personal responsibilities. These days I have failed to consistently interject humor as I should.

Every day I struggle working at a balance of spiritual growth and skepticism. Jules Verne said, "Science, my lad, is made up of mistakes, but they are mistakes which it is useful to make, because they lead little by little to the truth." The same might be said for religion; but in order to advance toward spiritual Truth, one must first acknowledge the possibility of mistakes, and next acknowledge the unattainability of a Perfect Spiritual Truth. Many who claim a certainty in faith will not allow for the possibility of mistakes. Certainty in faith is a contradiction of terms. Organized religion (for me) implies indoctrination and requires a passive acceptance. Every day I work hard at questioning every thing, thereby continuously pushing spiritual comfort just out of reach. Spiritual comfort is the primary marketing strategy for organized religion. Spirituality without religion is possible; it is also more difficult, more painful, more lonely, more truthful, and (I believe, potentially) more rewarding.

These days I struggle working at a balance of lifelong learning and compassion. The more I learn (in the areas I choose to study), the higher the levels of frustration and the less the likelihood of compassionate understanding. These days I believe this to be my most urgent area of contention. While not antisocial, these days I have become more withdrawn and more adversarial.

The previously-mentioned struggle between truthfulness and minimal harm also plays into this urgent struggle between learning and compassion. One year ago in the post 'Free-Floating Happiness' I made a case for compassion. I have frequently championed truthfulness, lifelong learning, and minimal harm. But as I have consistently thrown these four obligations into the same arena I have been victimized by internally-generated philosophical fisticuffs that have forced me into a corner now uncertain whether to attack with knowledge and truthfulness, cower in fear of doing harm, or (like a wise and benevolent wizard) hide behind a curtain of compassion. This last option is phrased as such because these days, that is how any outpouring of compassion feels.

Here is an example - a friend who has his two boys for the summer was very upset the other day because his ex called and said the boys wanted to cut their time with Dad short and fly back to the coast 2 or 3 weeks early. Living several hundred miles apart, he complained - (seemingly rightfully so) - that this was his only time with the boys and he did not want it cut short. Later that day he was inviting people for a 4th of July party and telling everyone he had "shipped" his boys off to his parent's for the weekend. Additionally, when asked how he was enjoying their visit, he was overheard to say 'he had to shut himself up in his room every night to get any peace and quiet.'

Aaaarrrrgghhhhh!

Do I attack with truthfulness? Do I cower silently, fearing that I might hurt his feelings and/or lose a party invite? Or do I hide in the folds of a false compassion expressing trite sympathies for his woes? I know... a more correct answer is that I should work at easing his suffering - (though I don't know that he realizes he is suffering) - by gently (perhaps humorously) chiding him for his contradictory actions and behaviors, and if he becomes defensive or belligerent I should back off and believe that what I have said has or will reach some part of him - lead with compassionate truthfulness, then work to minimize harm and maximize learning. Nonetheless,

...Aaaarrrrgghhhhh!

Depending on circumstance (who, where, what, when), it can be very difficult to prioritize one's obligations. I am not sure if I have experienced new learning this week, though I have solidified some past learning.  I have one more day...

... ... ... ... ...

Upon reflection, I believe differentiating 'responsibility for' and 'responsibility to' is a new (or at least uncommon) personal perspective, and I believe it has helped to lighten the load and simultaneously increase potential output.

... ... ... ... ...

In these past hours, I returned to the written thought above and added the content on humor. While certainly not new knowledge, it is renewed learning. While trying to remember at what point I had banished my sense of humor, it sent word back that I did not banish it; rather it had fled a cold and lonely darkness - me - to find refuge and survive as it could. My sense of humor has survived, and though malnourished and frail it has agreed to return. And I have agreed to increase the light and warmth necessary to nurse it back to health.

These days I am learning...

I am sitting in a big comfy chair, with a nice view overlooking an expanse of landscape. The movers arrive and say they are going to take my chair but they say I will be fine because they are going to give me a smaller, less comfortable chair. This smaller, less comfortable chair is facing a wall now, with a nice picture, but no view. I complain, but it turns out that as long as I have a chair, nothing will be done. So I get up and leave in search of a bigger, more comfortable chair. The first one I find, though still somewhat smaller, looks comfortable, so I sit down. I find it more dirty and worn than what it appeared from a distance, and I find the view very squalid. So I get up and leave in search of a bigger, more comfortable chair. The next one I find has a nice view, but it is smaller and much less comfortable, and after sitting for a bit I find the hard, straight back and uncushioned seat with no arms to be problematically uncomfortable, and I am physically unable to continue sitting in it. So I get up and leave in search of a bigger, more comfortable chair. The next one I find is not a chair at all but a steampunkish robotic contraption that I am strapped into and I am required to constantly be on the move, which isn't so bad, but it is not comfortable and the only view I have are fields of drab, institutional gray. So I unstrap myself and leave in search of a bigger, more comfortable chair. The next one I find looks comfortable and appears a little bigger, but still not as big as where I began. I sit down. It is fairly comfortable, (though not as comfortable as where I began), and it is not dirty, or too worn; but it must have been a trick of the light because it is not as big as it first appeared, and the view is not nearly as expansive. But for the moment I decide not to whine or complain. I decide to accept the hand I've been dealt. I decide to lower my expectations. I decide to stay. And I decide I will come back in the morning. It has been a long day. I go home. When I arrive at home I find the movers have arrived and been busy while I have been out searching. I find that my bed is now smaller and less comfortable. I find that my pantry is now smaller and less well-stocked. I find that my television is now smaller and less vibrant. I find that the plumbing, and the furnace, and the electricity, and the kitchen appliances are all less efficient and more difficult to contend with. I find that friends and family have moved into other neighborhoods far away from the movers. And as they are carrying off bits and pieces the movers turn their heads and they tell me that I should be grateful that I once had a big comfy chair and a nice view. And the movers tell me that I will be fine because they are going to leave me with a smaller, less comfortable Life. And when I complain, it turns out that as long as they are only taking a little bit here and a little piece there, nothing will be done.

Let your imagination run wild for a moment and visualize yourself chained and fettered to a desk, or locked inside a building for a set period of time each day (more days than not) and at the notion of custom and/or the fickle nature of some individual (or group of individuals) you are forced to perform tasks; and if you do not perform these tasks to the standards and expectations of (often) subjective judgement you are in danger of not making the rent check, or the grocery bill, or paying for heat, or...

Thank goodness we live in an enlightened age where the vagaries of outdated practices and the whimsy of impulse do not threaten one's livelihood. But if you did find yourself in such a circumstance, here is my question: Would you prefer to be painfully stretched up to and possibly beyond your human limitations? Or would you prefer to be closed up in a dark box performing menial tasks. To be tormented on the rack? Or to be thrown in the hole?

We all have limitations. And we all aspire toward meaningful purpose. Labels (such as 'new hire' and 'underling' and 'part-time' and 'disabled' and 'young' and 'old' and...) are confining and typically result in time in the hole; yet when one shows initiative, finds more meaningful purpose, and achieves beyond expectations the wheel of whimsy turns and an individual may earn some quality time on the rack.

It would of course be best if the hostage could escape the hole and be given opportunity for stretching exercises that will aid all parties in determining and agreeing upon one's capabilities and potential. Unfortunately, even in this enlightened age, some captives feel safe and comfortable in their hole and are intimidated by exercise; and some decision makers feel safer with the convicts in their holes and feel they can't spare the time to lead (what they may see as) exercises in futility.

Self deception is human nature. We lie to ourselves (often subconsciously) so it is easier to lie to others. So whether I am a decision maker (putting someone on the rack or throwing them in the hole) or a prisoner (pleading to be stretched or seeking the safety of my hole), I will be able to justify my actions. And when I look closely I believe these roles and justifications to extend beyond the workplace. And perhaps this all leads us to the ultimate question - If I cannot trust my self, where do I search for Truth?

I have built this entire web site - nearly 4 years of weekly written thought - on the idea that (upper-case) Happiness is dependent on one's Lifelong search for Truth and Wisdom. And now I admit that I lie to myself?

It is a dilemma...

...A dilemma I have been pondering for more than a day now.

First, an awareness of the possibility of subconscious self-deception has the potential to pull it into the light where any justifications can be examined more objectively. Next, a consistent practice of objectively examining justifications (which typically come after the reality of action) may encourage a closer examination of a proposed action (in light of the potential for self deception) before the conscious choice is acted upon. And finally, a consistent practice of objectively examining conscious choice before action, may eliminate the necessity of justification. The more frequently I justify, the greater the number of lies - to my self and to others.

Summary:

1. An awareness of the likelihood of self deception.
2. Objective examination of justifications.
3. Objective examination of conscious choice before acting upon it.

This is a daunting task. To eliminate all lies - (a Perfect scenario, which of course is not possible) - I would have to completely and perfectly see and understand my choices and their resulting impact as another will see and understand this impact. To reduce lies I must work toward that Perfection by considering the perspective of those impacted. These thoughts are parallel and very close to this previous written thought on minimizing harm. I believe these methods of analysis will aid in being more truthful and in working closer toward Truth; and this reminder is important, but I do not feel I am breaking new ground.

... ... ... ... ...

It would be interesting to ask the following questions specific to a circumstance / relationship:
Are you fulfilled?
Are you satisfied?
Are you bored?
Does it hurt?

I believe I would put satisfaction and boredom each on a scale of 1 to 5, and fulfillment and pain each on a scale of 1 to 10, with the highest number indicating 'very much so' or 'unbearably so' and the lowest number indicating 'not at all'. Now if pain is defined as 'the rack' (painfully stretched), and boredom is defined as 'the hole' (dark box / menial tasks), and if we can agree (at least to an extent) on the premise 'no pain, no gain', and if we allow the individual to define/interpret fulfillment and satisfaction, then I would subtract boredom from satisfaction, add that number to fulfillment, and subtract that result from pain. The greater a positive number, the greater the perceived pain. The lesser a negative number, the greater the perceived satisfaction up to fulfillment. The closer to zero, the greater the perceived depth of the hole. Of course the results are perceived results because (regardless of efforts otherwise) I may be lying to my self.

Notes:

• I include satisfaction and fulfillment to ensure a differentiation between the two, believing most individuals will see fulfillment as the more desirable / valuable.
• The first part of the equation (subtracting boredom from satisfaction) is in place to account for those satisfied with boredom; and to emphasize that while boredom for some could be satisfying, it will never be fulfilling.

When I apply this equation to a specific circumstance or relationship, even in the realm of the 'less personal' or impersonal (such as a part time job), I find myself rethinking initial instinct and justifying final choices; indications that I cannot trust my self. And when I consider applying this equation to a personal relationship I am immediately overwhelmed by a torrent of irreconcilable thoughts and emotions arguing truthfulness, justification, peace, goodness, compassion, courtesy, respect, love, anger, justice, frustration, and an innumerable quantity of other unidentifiable bits of floating, flying, stinging, biting internal detritus. 'Two weeks ago' I considered paradox and the process of seeking reconciliation. As I said then, it is an ongoing cycle.

Perhaps I need more practice...

... ... ... ... ...

I have practiced. And I have figured out that in any circumstance or relationship that requires a give and take I will at varying times experience both the rack and the hole. And I have discovered that results change (at least) on a daily basis. Though I can conceptualize a cumulative result based on history, I believe this historical perspective to be more subjective (and more difficult) than an assessment in and for the moment. And I have found that I want to rate pain differently depending upon who it is inflicting the pain. When my wife or children stretch me with high expectations, since I see that as willing sacrifice or loving kindness, I find that I rate the pain as less than if similar demands come from my employer. Is this truthful? Or is this a justification? I believe it to be truthful because of what I see as a stronger bond fortified by a reciprocal commitment to a more extensive common ground. Is this truthful? Or is this a more complex justification?

So you can see, practice has helped. It has helped me to become more discriminating and more truthful; or it has helped me to become more discriminating and a more convincing liar.

I will continue to practice...