hopelesshappiness.com

There is no such thing as yellow rice! I am devastated! Another bubble burst. Here I am, several decades old, and I thought that like white rice, brown rice, and the exotic black (or forbidden) rice, yellow rice was a thing. It is not. I cannot go into a grocery and find a bag that lists yellow rice in its ingredients. Yellow rice is actually some form of white rice with something in it that makes it yellow; (like turmeric and/or sometimes even food coloring).

I was planning to grill some jerk chicken and shrimp and we wanted to try yellow rice as an accompaniment. I have found a marvelous way to cook rice dishes in a paella pan on the grill to add a little smokiness and a unique texture. So I went to the store in search of yellow rice. I found a bag that said "yellow rice" but when I looked at the ingredients it was white rice with stuff in it. So there I am clogging up the rice aisle, researching rice on the inter-webs, and what else do I find? Wild rice isn't a rice at all! It isn't even tangentially related! It is fake rice! I am more rice than wild rice because I have in-laws named Rice! Suddenly this whole rice thing has become a full-blown conspiracy!

I read labels. I started reading labels eight-and-a-half years ago because my heart cried out for more healthy fare. Like rice! And now look where it's taken me. Once again, I have been led astray by my heart. Duplicitous, conniving, Life-affirming muscle!

So there I still am, in the rice aisle, stamping my foot, muttering under my breath, staring at my phone, and clutching my chest; but at least, (like a percutaneous coronary intervention), I have unclogged the rice aisle. I fear doing more research. I may find Uncle Ben is not a real person. Or that Rice University is an actual university. Woe is me. I spend a lifetime believing something, only to find it a hoax. A cruel, malicious, deceitful lie that I see now was partially created and then perpetuated in my own head so I would feel better about my health believing I was consuming a whole food. Alas, Twas merely a masquerade.

I suppose I may take some comfort in the fact that there was an actual whole food swimming amongst the added ingredients, but I still feel cheated because I did not realize the added ingredients; (food coloring? Come on...). I liked yellow rice. I still like yellow rice. Or more accurately put, I like Basmati rice with turmeric. My Basmati rice with turmeric was the perfect accompaniment the other night; but I had a hard time calling it yellow rice. And now what am I going to call my wild rice? Long grain and Zizania would cause confusion and perhaps even some consternation amongst dinner guests; (though I like the name). I know, I know... "A rose by any other name..." and all that. But that's not the point. The point is that I believed in yellow rice and now... well, I have already expressed my disappointment.

And what's more?! I have discovered that there are more than 40,000 varieties of rice. 40,000! And none of them are yellow rice! Who knew? I am familiar with only a handful, knowing also that there are 3 types of grain: short, medium and long. For those of us who are devoted fans of a basic long grain white, how am I to know a short grain Valencia? Until this week I was not even aware of short grain Valencia; yet after speaking knowingly (and smugly?) about my paella pan, here I find that Valencia is a Spanish variety often used for paella. I am ignorant. A lost soul wandering these vast stores of rice... My eyes have been opened to possibility...

But how can I spread myself so thin? I have grown old adhering to that aforementioned basic long grain white rice. I am so blind as to have thought that I was being daring experimenting with yellow rice when unbeknownst to me I was still just being drawn to my basic long grain white rice. There is no possible way for me to know 40,000 varieties. Perhaps I am better to stay with what I know, maybe adding some depth through further exploration of other popular varieties of white such as Jasmine or Arborio or Blue Rose or Bombo. The greater difficulty is in handling the distress caused by the crumbling of my carefully constructed, yet childishly simplistic understanding of the ways of rice.

The ways of rice are manyfold. There is not one True path, but I have spent so many decades now habitually serving the same basic white rices, that this recent foray into the nonexistent yellow rice has not convinced me that the "only" rice worth serving is white rice, (despite the fact that yellow rice is really white rice), but instead has shown me that the only rice worth serving is the one (of 40,000) that is served well; and to serve a rice well, I believe one must have an affinity for that rice and also, (in that moment), acknowledge the validity of the other 39,999 rices also being served well all over the world. So when I seek comfort I will likely choose to serve a basic long grain white rice, but now that I know of this multitude of rices, I am no longer very comfortable with comfort. Because I am now aware of this complexity, I must explore this complexity. I can no longer swear allegiance to rice because I will never know all the ways of rice; and it feels somewhat impotent to swear allegiance to 1 rice out of 40,000. What if my rice is not the best rice for my personal tastes? Or my personal health? What if my rice is merely an ingrained habit from which I have learned to like basic long grain white, but in actuality I have tricked my taste buds into a delusion of devotion? These are disturbing (but necessary) thoughts.

So I have been converted; from smug conviction to thoughtful skepticism. And despite the heartache, I am better for it. And once I have caught my breath I suppose I should find out if red beans are a thing because I did a preliminary search and it appears that it is one of hundreds of varieties of the common bean, and that many people believe it to be the same as or interchangeable with the kidney bean. Heresy! And more heartache...

"No. No. No. No. No!" It is all about me! Listen to me!

Selfish and Petulant.

Initial consideration informed me that the observations above were about another individual. And though the actual invective reproach was directed at me from this other individual, upon further examination I have discovered the evildoer to be me because 1) I did not follow a rule 2) openly, and 3) in front of the autocratic rulemaker who had just verbally decreed this new rule to suit the moment. This breakdown, (1, 2 and 3 above), is important as a guide for safely breaking rules. It is common for rules to be broken; sometimes openly. But to flaunt this rebellion, especially in the face of authority, and worst of all in front of the imperious rulemaker, is asking for admonishment. I would have likely gotten away with my breach of conduct if I would have broken the rule quietly.

In a separate incident this week, involving the same rulemaker, he declared that a weekly hour-long meeting must be scheduled in a certain daypart to give him more time for other work. And though on the surface, this is terribly illogical---(an hour is an hour is an hour)---I understand that each individual may have specific dayparts more conducive to maximal flow. What he intended was not "more time" but more "quality" time; (though I also believe that one should strive to give all dayparts equitable effort). Regardless, this speaks to the unprincipled nature of many rules and rulemakers. I believe that in an extremely large majority of rules there is a degree, (and in most rules, a very large degree), of amoral ego. Most rules are made to create comfort. For some rulemakers that comfort is structure and security. For other rulemakers it is the illusion of control. For a few it appears to be the sheer pleasure of tyranny. For some it is simply convenience. And for some, it may be a combination; a form of tyrannyconstrucurity.

In yet a third example from this week, a uniform nicely illustrated this flaunt-to-punish sequence, along with the arbitrary nature of most rules. A young woman obeying all traffic laws and driving safely, found herself accidentally flaunting her license plate in the wrong place at the wrong time, and as a result a man in uniform with a badge, a powerful screaming car and time on his hands, created considerable turmoil based on a bureaucratic misunderstanding. I am familiar with the maxim that "ignorance is no excuse" but shouldn't that be accompanied by the guideline "no harm, no foul"? Are there possibly better ways for an ego in uniform to be of value? Should individual priorities, (such as food on the table and a roof over your children's heads), be considered alongside bureaucratic priorities? This incident, (which I am sure is repeated many, many, many, many times over on a daily basis), shows how an imaginary structure, (such as a uniform, a badge, a title, or even a business card), can create comfort and perpetuate authoritarian whimsy.

I begin nearly every new week with the desire to submit uplifting and joyful written thought. But because I pay attention, I find this (in most weeks) to be quite difficult. The silver lining though, is that in most weeks, by submitting this written thought, I come to an agreement with adversity, whether that adversity is specific to me or one or more other individuals. Having expelled any potentially toxic anger, I typically come to an actively hopeful understanding, and I am able to move forward productively. I believe most individuals either do not pay attention, ignore, or forget, which allows forward movement free from the responsibility of productivity. (For me) it is preferable to thoughtfully reason and organize for further analysis and eventual progress.

And this brings me to still one more culmination from this week. I see many rulemakers as absentee rulemakers making absentee rules. If a rulemaker is making rules based solely or largely on their personal comfort, of course that rulemaker should not be making rules, but more importantly any rules they make are rules that can frequently be broken, if done so quietly. Hence, absentee rulemakers and absentee rules. This week I have also noticed a correlation between those "out of touch with reality" rulemakers and their actual physical presence in the midst of the reality they rule. As is often the case, after saying this it seems obvious. There is both a specious distance and a physical distance between absentee rulemakers and their given dominion, often with the only structural connection being absentee rules. As I heard the frustration so eloquently expressed yesterday: "She's just talking out her butt." The silver lining regarding all of this absenteeism? Some absentee rulemakers recognize this distance and often allow their people to create the rules that produce the best results. The dark cloud? Many absentee rulemakers could (and should) put forth more effort.

So to summarize: absentee rules can be quietly broken because they are often made by absentee rulemakers to enhance their personal sense of comfort and as a result create imaginary structure that also allows for authoritarian whimsy and encourages a lack of effort, misguided and arbitrary solicitude, and unrestrained thoughtlessness; and in this muddle of circumstance the absentee rulemaker really doesn't care about their absentee rule, probably does not even remember their absentee rule (unless a rulebreaker shoves it in their face), and will leave it to the authority figures (believing in their imaginary authority) to enforce the myriad of absentee rules.

(For me), (perhaps because I pay attention), it is much simpler to thoughtfully reason and organize for further analysis and eventual progress.

This is my peace...

...for this week.

It is not so much devoid or bereft as it is heavily burdened.

And it is more joyfully (almost effortlessly) uplifted than it is simply happy or satisfied.

These are two different moments on opposite ends of a spectrum. The first is not gravity pulling me down, but a weight from above forcing me to my knees and, at its worst, to a prone position of seeming helplessness. The second seems, (but may not be), more momentary, fleeting, but intense; a brief yet vibrant rush of energy that seemingly repeals gravity. Both are movement. Both are (seemingly) involuntary. Both are memorable. One seems (too) frequent and the other seems (too) infrequent; regardless of their frequency.

The crushing weight is a reminder of reality. The uplifting ebullience is a momentary glimpse of Possibility. Both are of this world. And together they represent the bounds of my personal spirituality.

To know reality so I may glimpse Possibility. To rise from beneath a crushing weight so I may continue my search for Truth and Wisdom. One is ugliness; the other, beauty. One is a cold and depthless darkness; the other, a warm and radiant awareness. One is a roaring silence; the other, the magic of music. One is selfishly oblivious denial; the other, thoughtfully acquisitive skepticism. One is maniacal screams; the other, beneficent words. One is obedient quiescence; the other, resolute suffering. One cannot be, without the other. To know reality so I may glimpse Possibility.

(For me) personal spirituality is not a belief, nor a leap of faith. (For me) personal spirituality is a volitional knowledge that demands movement preceded by words preceded by thought. (For me) personal spirituality is individual; personal. (For me) personal spirituality is not commodification. (For me) personal spirituality is personal inevitability as sustenance.

And then there is the in-between. There is a lot of in-between. To translate personal spirituality so I may incorporate it into my in-between, my daily living, I study, I work, I listen, I consider, I laugh, I cry, I serve, I continue. And by considering my personal spirituality and my translation, I understand that this process of living is not about me in any way other than - I interpret. In some circumstance it is difficult to remember that I interpret and that is all. To interpret is to add substance and meaning, and it is difficult to know just what added meaning was meant and how much added meaning is too much. "I interpret" can easily become "I decide" which is a very short distance from "I denounce" and to decide and/or denounce requires a leap, (i.e. belief), and to exhort belief is to deny reason. Reason is very important to my personal spirituality and reason will get lost in that vast space between "I interpret" and "I denounce" impacting a considerable cross-section of my in-between. To avoid this slippery slope, I interpret reasonably and (when possible and appropriate) I ask questions for clarification.

Despite the practicalities necessary for the in-between, (and there is a lot of in-between), there remains a hint of esoteric mystery surrounding any concept of spirituality. (For me) it is important to limit this abstruse thinking to those momentary extremes. I am of this world and my job is to be Human. (For me) that means here; in the in-between. My actions here will determine my there. Regardless of personal belief, simple mindless obedience will not determine one's there. And regardless of personal belief, what I do here, in my in-between, must be personally, intimately individual; and I believe this to be the case for most individuals, even those caught up in ritual or dogma. If one finds comfort in ritual, that comfort should not be denied; but I am actively hopeful that dynamic reliance on dogma will continue its decline, and that more and more individuals will rise from crushing weights and heavy burdens and obedient quiescence to do their job.

I study, I work, I listen, I consider, I laugh, I cry, I interpret, I reason, I serve, I continue.

This week from NPR:

"It's time we had proper border security, we're the laughingstock of the world." --Donald Trump

I have no problem with the accuracy of one of those statements, but the two are totally unrelated.

Like with a snuggly blanket or a cocoon or a womb, one's security can be enhanced by wrapping thoughts and words around discomfort. Looking around, I am finding it not uncommon for an individual to create an unrealistic or inaccurate mental construct and if or when questioned about it to attempt to fortify its tenuous nature with words. And it appears that once words begin to flow, it becomes more difficult to consider previous or promised (future) constructs thus (sometimes unknowingly) creating a web of constructs even more tenuous than the one. Many are able to stem this tide within a reasonable time by recognizing the fragile complexity of the web and the (often) ridiculous futility of supporting a crumbling structure, but some (for whatever reason) are unable to connect the dots.

I would like to know that (for whatever reason) reason. Is it unique to each individual? Something from their childhood? Or a faulty adult learning mechanism? Is it common but more obvious when one is subject to close scrutiny? Does it have to do with entitlement and/or power? Or anger? Or (perceived or actual) persecution? Is it more difficult for a (by all accounts and appearances) reasonably articulate adult to learn and grow if they have lived a lifetime of privilege? Or hardship? Or even comfort?

My gut tells me privilege is a major factor, but am I narrowing my questions and suspects just to feel more secure? Is privilege an easy answer that may keep me from a better answer? Or a more complete answer? Maybe.

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

Okay. So first, it may not be actual privilege that inhibits learning, but rather the illusion of entitlement; (which is redundant because all entitlement is an illusion).

And perhaps constriction (for whatever the reason) perpetuates constriction. To live in a snuggly little world of one's own making, endangers both reality and reason. And the further removed from reality and reason, the smaller one's world becomes. And the smaller one's world becomes, the harder it is to connect those now more distant dots.

This is nothing new. Throughout the history of Humanity we have worked very hard to live local. And what is more local than me hugging myself? And perhaps this is what differentiates one who cannot connect dots: the individual is so far removed from a consensus reality that the only "local" available is their self. Perhaps we need to be grounded in a local in order to search for and/or find a universal. And perhaps a local consisting of a single individual is not expansive enough to allow for any consistent learning and growth which is necessary for progress toward Universal Truth. And though some of these factors transcend privilege and entitlement, it appears (to me) that privilege and entitlement pave the road to a snuggly world whereas most individuals struggle to make their own path. And many individuals ultimately find their snuggly, (or at least comfortable), world but for most it is not a world of one.

It is good to feel connected. Dots turn into people turn into more people turn into energy turns into compassion turns into thoughtful questioning turns into more questions turn into learning turns into growth turns into progress toward Universal Truth.

So the pertinent question becomes, how does one break free from security in order to connect (seemingly distant) dots? Or perhaps more appropriately, why would one choose to do so? Especially after decades of privileged security?

Many would choose not to sacrifice personal security in one short, selfish lifetime for the sake of service to others. So perhaps it then becomes incumbent upon us (as a group, society, culture, state, nation, world) to recognize narrow-minded selfishness and (where and when possible), refuse it power. This is also not an easy task. But I believe that as new generations take their place as adult citizens, and as older generations die off, we will more and more consistently recognize this unreasonable compulsion and we will learn how to manage it. I see evidence that we have begun this process of recognition and thoughtful guidance.

With that said, today we have learned that there remains a faction still strongly influenced by rowdy populist rhetoric. We cannot outlaw rowdy populist rhetoric. But we can be actively hopeful as opposed to simply hopeful. I believe that today, dot-connectors represent consensus reality. I also believe that today too many dot-connectors (on all sides) are too busy connecting local dots and have recently lost sight of universal dots. A "local-dots-only" frame of mind is divisive. Knowing that today will influence tomorrow, we must expand our worlds. We have never and we will never all live in one large snuggly world. Our world is cold and messy and adversarial and big and challenging. We cannot rest on our laurels simply hoping that we don't mess things up too bad.

Today matters.

And perhaps that is the more complete answer. Until we become a comfortably large majority of Universal dot connectors, we must consistently recognize this difference between local and Universal and turn away those who are unable to learn and grow.

Today matters.

The Universal Declaration of Human Rights was adopted by the UN General Assembly on December 10, 1948. At the time, the United States voted in favor of the Declaration. The Declaration consists of 30 Articles. I am confident that since its creation, as a country, we have steadily worked to advance Human Rights. But today, (to me), it feels like we have renounced, (in thought, word, and/or deed), the entire Preamble and a majority of the Articles; (most conspicuously of late, Articles 1, 2, 7, 9, 13, 14, 18, 19, and 27). Instead of progress, we regress. But I don't believe responsibility lies solely within the current party in power, nor with any single individual. We have nurtured this monster for decades and as it grows and continues to flourish we find ourselves in this dark, lonely moment in which Human Rights are secondary to rowdy populism and divisive politics. I am sad.

At the time Jacques Maritain, (one of the notables in the creation of the Universal Declaration), remarked.

At one of the meetings of a Unesco National Commission where Human Rights were being discussed, someone expressed astonishment that certain champions of violently opposed ideologies had agreed on a list of those rights. "Yes," they said, "we agree about the rights but on condition that no one asks us why."

Today we are so caught up in "why" that we are unable to see, (much less articulate, understand, or act on), the invaluable necessity of Human Rights. I am sad.

These entanglements with "why" of course create divisive relativistic circumstance making it difficult, (if not nearly impossible), to reach common ground. Difficult, because instead of agreeing on reasonable human rights, we argue over subjective truth. Nietzsche said, "There are no facts, only interpretations." I do not agree with Nietzsche. Last week I made a case for reason and I believe reason will ultimately triumph. But in this moment interpretation has shoved reason aside and subjective truth rules the playground. There is no common ground when opposing factions all believe theirs is the higher ground.

I am sad.