hopelesshappiness.com

I had a bad dream last night in which, having finally had enough, I looked at the antagonist and I said, “you're a bad dream. Good-bye.” And I woke up.

I woke up to a bad dream.

I woke up to a bad dream from which I cannot wake up. I woke up to a bad dream in which I cannot say “Good-bye.” I woke up to a bad dream in which the antagonist won't just go away. And let's be honest, even if he did go away, there is another one waiting in the wings. Today's antagonist only believes he is consequential. And let's be really honest, even if we did manage to maneuver a protagonist into a more advantageous position of power, today's hero is often tomorrow's villain.

Fear. Sadness. Anger. Common emotions experienced in a bad dream. Insecurity. Exasperation. Disgust. Disappointment. Despair. But I am uncertain. Do these feelings reflect my interpretation? Or do these feelings reflect my true nature? Am I the receiver victimized by others? Or am I the giver generating and/or perpetuating onward and outward? Is the bad dream perhaps a glimpse into the thing itself? Is my nature such that I am the antagonist? Is our nature such that we are the villain? As a Nation? As all of Humanity?

Perhaps.

But even so, evolution is revolution. Our hope must be an active hope. We must become. Better Listeners. Reasoned Architects. Cohesive Builders. Caring Healers. Compassionate Caretakers. To save us. We must become. One.

For many, this is antithetical. So for all of us, it may not be possible. I recognize this possibility of impossibility. I understand the ingrained, entrenched necessity of disunity. But still, I want to wake up from this bad dream. So still, I will work.

In this moment, we are smarter. In the next moment, we must be smarter, quicker.

In this moment, we are few. In the next moment, we must be exponential.

In this moment, we are many. In the next moment, we must be One.

If in this moment we are comfortable, in the next moment we must embrace hardship.

If in this moment we suffer, in the next moment we must embrace even more hardship.

And if in this moment we seek comfort, in the next moment we will uncomprehendingly be embraced by hardship.

So still, I will work.

I have found that to work, to embrace hardship on one's own terms, is not necessarily preferable to having it thrust upon oneself, but it does create a greater potential for productivity and progress.

I have found that to work, to embrace hardship on one's own terms, is not necessarily preferable to having it thrust upon oneself, but it does create a greater potential for destructive tyranny.

Bullies and despots frequently believe destructive tyranny to be productive progress. Influential public servants frequently believe destructive tyranny to be a lesson from history books. Do these beliefs merely reflect wishful thinking? Or do these beliefs reflect full-blown delusion? Are the roles completely interchangeable? Or are the roles merely overlapping? Is the bad dream perhaps a glimpse into the thing itself? Is my nature such that I am the bureaucrat? Is our nature such that we are the system? As an arrangement? As all of Civilization?

Perhaps.

To remember that evolution is revolution, will remind us that quiescence is acquiescence; it will remind us that though nonconformity is seen as a deformity, nonconformity is in actuality an adaptive and necessary mutation; and it will remind us that the way we've always done things will continue to stunt our growth.

Which path will we choose?

Many (and perhaps most) choose by not choosing. The path of least resistance has been cleared in such a way to keep me on the straight and narrow, occupied with busy work created to maintain status quo.

Along with bullies and despots and tyrants and influential public servants, those on the other side of the wealth gap and many of those who can see the other side of the wealth gap, have a vested interest in keeping the path of least resistance, the path of least resistance. Unfortunately, these architects of Humanity's future are also choosing by not choosing. We have selected these architects using a system birthed and living its whole life on the path of least resistance. These architects have not trained to be architects. These architects have been groomed to be galvanic, prepossessed keepers of the path of least resistance.

Fear. Sadness. Anger. As the wealth and power gap widens, at least for us on this side, this path of least resistance seems to be bristling with more and more adversity. I believe most of us, no matter which side of any divide we are on, can see this uptick in hardship. I also believe that most of us have become quite adept at administering anesthetic (to oneself and to others) to deaden the pain.

Consumerism is an anesthetic. Bureaucracy is an anesthetic. Rhetorical platitudes, promising reassurances, exaggerations, bombast, bluster and brazen fabrications all contain anesthetizing agents. (Using the measure, All of Humanity past, present and future), disproportionate recognition, credit and self-congratulations are anesthetics. Busy work is an anesthetic. Two (maybe three) of the seven deadly sins are anesthetics. Drama is an anesthetic. Social media is an anesthetic. Partisanship is an anesthetic.

I am struggling to come out from under. Many of us are struggling to come out from under. There is pain. There is nausea. There is the desire for more anesthetic. And there are keepers at the ready willing to oblige.

Which path will I choose?

Which path will we choose?

The outlook is grim. And because the outlook is grim, many of us will continue down the path of least resistance.

But still, I want to wake up from this bad dream.

So still, I will work.

I frequently lose sight of the fact that many people, (maybe most people, and perhaps a large majority of people), when facing reality, need something to hold on to. I agree that to face the inevitably of death, and quite likely pain, and the possibility of Nothingness, and the dystopian promise for the future, and the futility of Happiness, is all a tad daunting. But then again, free fall can be exhilarating.

Reality begins with truthfulness. Truthfulness begins with doubting every thing you believe you know. Every thing. By doubting every thing, I also believe every thing; (alternatively I could say I believe in the possibility of every thing, but I want to feel the thing not hear its echo). And by believing every thing, I too frequently find myself hanging on to a worst case scenario, and I too frequently come across as lacking confidence. It is my nature to want to hold on to something. I believe though that

1. reality (more often than not) dictates random results,
2. there are more bad and indifferent (perceived as bad) results than good results,
3. self-fulfilling prophecy is a thing, and
4. I must learn to hang on then move on before I am hung up.

So if self-fulfilling prophecy is a thing, why would I not choose to believe in Goodness and Light and Rainbows and Lollipops instead of risking becoming hung up on a worst case scenario? If self-fulfilling prophecy is a thing, wouldn't I find more comfort and safety and security and control by hanging on to Shangri-La? I think the answer is nestled inside the questions. I don't mean the obvious question-answer relationship. I mean the simple fact (or reality) that there are multiple questions, dictates my responsibility to seek multiple answers. And this responsibility is the reason I cannot find a single answer to hold on to. Think for a moment of those who believe they have THE ANSWER. If they have THE ANSWER why have the questions not dried up? Yes, I may be able to convince myself even most of the time that there is only ONE TRUTH, and this may aid in my feelings of comfort and safety and security and control, but I'll be damned if I am able to hold on to any part of this thing beyond an anticipation or a memory of its echo. And I sure as Hell cannot define it or describe it in such a way that any other can share my exact vision.

So beyond my comfort and safety and security and confidence, what purpose does ONE TRUTH serve? I am finding that even those Truths that I pursue, such as Justice, are moving targets. As my sense of the World grows, my sense of Justice evolves. If there is ONE TRUTH beyond my sense of the World, I must keep telling myself that it is beyond my sense of the World. I must understand that within my existence in this World, the Truth is ever-changing moment-by-moment.

It is my nature to question.

Here, now, my responsibility is to seek multiple answers to questions that continue to change and multiply as my sense of the World evolves.

Free fall.

I will better serve my responsibilities with less concern for my personal comfort, safety and security.

It is my nature to hang on.

I will better serve my responsibilities by knowing when to move on before I am hung up.

Yet it will remain difficult to face the inevitability of death, the likelihood of pain, the possibility of Nothingness, the dystopian promise for the future, and the futility of Happiness without grasping at illusive reassurance.

It will remain difficult to burst any bubble that seemingly defies the law of gravity.

Free fall…

• Nine weeks ago I discovered some inconsistencies in the calculation of admissions data.
• I found that for 62.8% of the 129 applicants, the result matched pre-calculated Formula A exactly.
• I found that for 24.0% of the 129 applicants, the result matched pre-calculated Formula B exactly.
• I found no pre-calculated Formula for 13.2% of the 129 applicants.
• For more than five weeks now, you have consistently stated that Formula C was used to calculate 100% of the 129 applicants.
• I have not seen Formula C, yet you ask me to have faith. You ask me to believe in Formula C even though Formulas A and B (accounting for 86.8% of the rankings) are the most logical explanation for the rankings.
• If the most logical explanation is true---if we used this blend of Formulas A and B along with some randomly assigned numbers and/or a yet-to-be-disclosed Formula C---(to be blunt) we have either stupidly or purposefully manipulated the data.
• I don't believe the responsible parties are stupid.
• And you still ask me to believe in Formula C.

How can I not feel like I am being showered with shrapnel and told it is a full-body massage?

Question: What is Formula C?

If you are able to show me Formula C and I see that it is a 100% consistent match with the 129 rankings, then I will let this go and move on. But in this scenario I would also appreciate some understanding. Given the logic of the bullet points above, I believe it is apparent why I have felt personally affronted and why I have reacted with anger and sadness. Yet I would still love to see a Formula C that works. Despite my skeptical nature, I really want to believe.

If however, you are unable to show me a consistent match with Formula C, then I have another question:

• Is there a way to move on that

1. Serves justice, and
2. Is mutually beneficial.

I don't believe I will be allowed to ask or pursue answers to the question above. In this circumstance you appear to be confusing transparency with invisibility. Mutual beneficence (from where I sit) must include a plan for verifiable and measurable progress, and necessary checks and balances to prevent future malfeasance, and you have already told me that I am not allowed to see your concept of justice. I believe you intend to kill the messenger so you are able to live more comfortably in your Fairy Tale.

Don't get me wrong, I like Fairy Tales; especially those that end “Happily ever after...” But in this moment I believe what is logical. No, I don't like messiness; or sharp points, or jagged edges. But I do understand that without these difficulties, Fairy Tale Moments would not be possible, and I do believe in Fairy Tale Moments knowing that they are truly momentary.

In this moment I believe that Formula C is a Fairy Tale Moment that is being stretched and puffed up and polished and decorated to be comfortable and to look pretty. I believe Formula C is a Fairy Tale Moment that some of us are holding onto for dear life. But like every moment, you will ultimately have to let go.

I have come to the realization, (which when stated, seems obvious), that justice is also momentary. Justice is specific to a particular moment and its circumstance. When I move on from this fight for justice, I will come across another injustice that will create another opportunity for momentary justice. There will always be an opportunity for another fight for justice. If I am discouraged by this, and give up the fight, simply because it is never-ending, then I will be relegated to stretching and puffing and polishing and decorating. Today I look around and I see a lot of stretching and puffing and polishing and decorating. Today I look around and I see a lot of believers.

Justice does not always penetrate the stretchy, puffy, polished armor of Fairy Tale Moments. Yet I still believe in justice. Though it is only momentary, if I work very hard at it---if we work very hard at it---perhaps we can string together enough moments of justice to feel a sort-of continuity; which might in turn feel like a sort-of herky-jerky authentic Fairy Tale. Whereas if we allow injustice to predominate, we will be stuck stretching an inauthentic Fairy Tale Moment; and hanging on for dear life.

We will be stuck citing a sunny day as proof that the climate is as healthy as it has ever been.

My “superiors” would like me to remain a cog in the wheel. (The only aspect of the definition for “superior” that I accept in this context is, “higher in station, rank, degree, importance.”) And I have been this obedient, complaisant, unthinking drone, as they have requested, for three-plus weeks now. The “you” throughout the remainder of this thought represents a composite of these multiple individual superiors.

“Now that I look back, I realize that a life predicated on being obedient is a very comfortable life indeed. Living in such a way reduces to a minimum one's own need to think.”

For whatever reasons, I am very uncomfortable with comfortable; and I like to think. So though I can feel the allure of comfortable obedience, I believe respectful, reasoned disobedience is often necessary to resolve injustice. It has now been more than eight weeks since I discovered what (to me) were and are intentional admissions improprieties. These eight weeks may not seem long to those in power, and you have said so. But for a rebellious, questioning, skeptical drone with an (apparently) inordinate sense of justice, this eight-plus weeks in which I have observed and experienced ongoing and consistent injustice, feels endless. Dramatic? From your perspective I am sure you are nodding your head yes; but from my perspective? Well... I forget; I am a drone and should not have a perspective. Besides, you have suffered also. Right? By bringing to your attention this ongoing and consistent wrongdoing, you have had to step outside of the safety and comfort of your invisibility cloak. You have actually had to experience small doses of reality. And you have made it clear that you do not like it. But yet my eight-plus weeks of eight-plus hours per day of maddening, saddening, unmoving, harsh reality should only dictate more patience? Though you may not be nearing an end - (How would I know?) – and though you apparently do not understand my disquietude, I need some closure.

Based on this last three weeks I believe that you believe circumstance is returning to status quo and we're all going to live happily ever after. I have dutifully crawled up the chain of command and reported wrongdoing according to established guidelines. For more than eight weeks I have not seen justice, and for more than four weeks now I have not been updated on the process or even reassured that the process is still in process. According to you, it is not my place to know these things. According to you I should snap to and fall in line. And in this moment I feel an immense pressure to follow these orders; but how do I answer if, down the road, someone asks why I did not speak up?

“I was one of the many horses pulling the wagon and couldn't escape left or right because of the will of the driver.”

I do not want to scream “FIRE!” when it is only some smoldering rags in a broom closet. I am uncertain if anyone would even listen or care; which certainly, (from where I sit), has been the reaction internally. But if I do not see someone actually extinguishing the danger instead of slamming the door shut and ordering me not to look because everything is fine now, I can only believe it will spread. The last thing I want is to see overzealous outsiders forcing you to react because they are fanning the flames. But the possibility of this over-the-top alternative is preferable to believing there are still smoldering rags in the broom closet. Please. I am begging. Help me to understand why I should not yell “Fire!”

“My heart was light and joyful in my work, because the decisions were not mine.”

The three Adolf Eichmann quotes within the thought above were his defense; and he was hanged for his crimes. Dramatic? Of course it is. I am making a point. You are not allowed to misinterpret. I am not in the least making light of the Holocaust, and I am not trying to blow this circumstance way out of proportion. It was my description of this circumstance as smoldering rags, and I wholeheartedly acknowledge that my smoldering rags come nowhere near the literal and figurative Hell of the Holocaust. Regardless, my comparison is valid. I understand the unspeakable difference in scale, but this does not change my responsibility to address injustice AND to (as much as I humanly, possibly can) see it through to a resolution.

Adolf Eichmann chose, daily, to stay and to participate and to contribute. Adolf Eichmann chose, daily, to not speak out against, (in his own words), “the gruesome workings of the machinery of death.” How can I stay silent? How can I obediently fall in line, when I feel as fervently as I do about justice and equity and diversity and transparency? How can I expect anyone to hold anyone accountable if I am unwilling to fight this fight?

In this circumstance, in this fight, I have seen no resolution nor have I been given reason to believe in my superiors. I believe it to be a verifiable slippery slope from the smallest of “acceptable” transgressions to a parade of unchallenged presuppositions convincing one of their God-like judgment and decision-making prowess and serving to cement one's perception of superiority; a clear matter of quantity and/or degree, not kind. Again, dramatic? Yes. Admittedly, this circumstance is a small fight. But at this point in my Life, I cannot see injustice, in any amount, and simply let it go. To do so, (for me) would be Sacrilege.

You might be thinking and you might say, “one person cannot save the world.” But imagine for a moment where we would be if everyone, (or even a large majority of us), used this as an excuse to always pick the next battle; to never fight this one. We could be on the verge of destroying the habitability of our planet. We could be easily charmed and distracted by superficial, ego-driven status symbols such as the clothes we wear, the car we drive, the University or College we attend. We could be facing tyranny and the potential for despotic rule. We could be sharply divided, unable to listen, unable to reason, unable to resolve.

I may not ultimately be able to save the world, but I am going to work very hard to think and to act as if I can.

I began writing this week, actively hoping I would find reason to let this go. On my own I am unable to do so. As an employee, perhaps you are right; perhaps it is not my place to fight this fight. But as a resident of this state, and as a citizen of this world, it is my obligation to ask these questions; it is my obligation to fight this fight.

So again: Please. I am begging. Help me to understand why I should not yell “Fire.”

Please.

Help me to move on in a way that serves justice and is mutually beneficial.

If I have to choose between justice and self-preservation, I will choose the possibility of justice.

What is the meaning of meaning? This is hard to say because we need words to express meaning, yet words are often inadequate. There is a word for this - ineffable. And this word is a good example of how a word can be inadequate and how a word can muddy meaning. When I use this word am I simply saying that I cannot find the words? Or am I saying that the meaning is beyond expression? Or am I implying a spiritual or transcendent component attached to the meaning? Any one or all of these are valid interpretations, though at this point in this instance, because we are working to define one thing by saying it is indefinable, have we moved from meaning to meta-meaning? Or because we recognize the hazy uncertainty of words, are we actually closer to authentic meaning? And does any of this help me to find or even come closer to the meaning of meaning? Or will meaning always be beyond words?

This takes me to another word that I am actively hopeful, once past, I will get to the point. The purpose (or meaning) of definition (by definition) is the act of making something definite, distinct or clear. Yet because all words are subject to interpretation, (which is by definition elucidation, which is by definition explication, which is by definition explanation, which is by definition interpretation, all with the potential for varying degrees of theoretical exposition), nothing is ever definite, distinct or clear.

And this...

(I am nearing my point now in which I will expound theoretically for several hundred more words.)

…this is why, I Love Books!

Anyone who shapes 80,000 words to cohesively elucidate, explicate, explain, and expound, and does it well... Wow! I don't have the words to describe this marvel of transcriptural engineering. And because I don't have the words you can see I just made one up.

This past weekend in my weekly trek to the local bookstore, I was genuinely thrilled with a couple of finds. They have been added to my list to purchase as my budget allows. When I connect as I did on this trip, it is as if I can feel each one of these millions upon millions of words reaching out to me. I can almost see them standing with hands clasped behind their backs, and leaning forward ever-so-slightly; and I can almost hear them politely, eagerly asking me to read them, interpret them, and find meaning. They must be polite. Not only within the (seemingly shrinking) realm of considerate organized thought, but also within the (seemingly) much larger world of disorganized, rhetorical, loud and abrasive (and often abusive) verbal antics, there is much competition for my attention.

As much as I was lifted and inspired inside the bookstore, I was every bit as much disillusioned and disheartened upon reentry into reality. And as vivid the personification of those millions upon millions of eager words, I could now see each one taking a knee, head down, brow creased, and grimacing sadly at my departure. I have to remember: the lower the lows, the higher the highs. Without the contrast, there would be no possibility of definition.

I believe considerate, organized, well-written thought is the best source for contrast and reason, and I believe it better serves to enhance my potential for understanding than any other form of media. And while there are many outstanding examples of shorter pieces of considerate, organized, well-written thought, I believe books are the better option for a depth of understanding unavailable in any other form. I believe that today far too many of us choose to believe that considerate, organized, well-written thought, (especially that in the form of books), is inaccessible because it is perceived as pretentious and/or disagreeable; or even dangerous. And because of this, when we choose our books, I believe that far too many of us choose simple and safe; God forbid I should think for myself.

Yes, like most I spent many years choosing books that appealed to me, which in hindsight was probably in most cases books that appeared to present a familiar perspective; I judged the book by its cover. But as I stretched myself, I found bits and pieces of alternative thinking which led to larger and more diverse chunks which ultimately brought me into realms of thought I had never thought. Books have guided me from narrow, unmoving certainty to a breathtaking vista of skeptical uncertainty and a passionate and overwhelming desire to save the world. Today, the problem with this desire is that no one seems to want to listen to someone who freely admits to uncertainty, and no one wants to expend the effort to find (much less research) experts for every challenge we face. No, I cannot save the world by myself, but neither can any other single individual or particular ideology. Yet it is so much simpler to gravitate to self-proclaimed saviors.

Perhaps I am not as great an exception as it appears to me; (I certainly and actively hope I am not). But if I am not in the minority, then why are we where we are? Why does it appear that most of us remain entrenched within the narrow, rigid walls of our unmoving certainty. I see very little active synthesis. It appears that much effort is expended to stand still. Yet there are Books! Books can move us! And for all the Books I see, there must be a lot of readers. Right? I don't want to believe that most of us are just buyers and not really readers. So perhaps we are too busy reading to actively participate? Perhaps those who are standing still have more opportunity to control our movement? And because they control, we do not move? And perhaps readers are content to sit in one place and read. It makes some sense. If we perceive movement – if we are moving – it is the narrow, rigid, definite, certain, straight-line movement of narrow, rigid, definite, certain, lazy, straight-line thinkers.

Books can move us!