Decision making

So, recent projects I've been involved with, reflections on my marriage, and some other crap that I read somewhere, have led me to an interesting conclusion - I think decision making is a kind of vulnerability.

What got me thinking about this was the time that someone suggested that one of those irritating "where do you want to eat" exchanges was a power struggle. You know, those times when you're trying to figure out what you want for dinner, and neither person is going to decide, and all anyone is throwing out are places they don't want to go? Ultimately, this isn't a case of two individuals being the image of selflessness. What's really going on is that we're trying to force the other to step out and make a call. For some reason we don't want to make that call ourselves. I don't want to pick a place and then find out Kim hates it, I don't want to decide something and drive across town just to find that a location is closed. I don't want anything to be my fault, and neither does she, so we argue.

This seems petty, right? It is. We haven't been wasting nearly as much time on this lately (largely because we don't go out much lately) but I think I've been learning some things about it and cutting through the process as a result.

This relates to creativity in the sense that we must make a huge array of judgment calls when we create anything at all, so this phenomenon is multiplied accordingly. It's hard to put a song or art piece forward because there's every possibility that someone is going to hate the placement of a bridge or find that your selection of imagery is too gimmicky. But this vulnerability is really enabling in the long run, because every step I've taken to push forward in full anticipation of criticism has made me more confident and assured in the process of action itself.

The death of possibility...

The great blessing of life is the existence of the possible. Every day, year, and decade that lies in the future holds untold promise. The promise of people met, things experienced, goals accomplished, life made better.

The great tragedy of life is the periodic, indefatigable onward march of time. As each single moment slips from our grasp, the infinite possibility therein dies with it. It is written, unchangeable, for the rest of forever. And the greatest past is still finite and unchangeable. It can't begin to compare to the potential of our boundless future moments.

The great conflict in life is how to spend each of those moments. They are precious, so precious. We can't keep them, we can't get them back, and we can't slow their passing.

So do we live in constant pressure to maximize the experience of every second that comes and goes so quickly? Do we enjoy each moment as much as possible? Do we avoid unpleasant moments at all costs?

I think the biggest injustice we do to the blessed gift of our existence is to spend moments in insignificance. Buried in those things that seem to consume life without giving anything in return. Those times we waste vegetating, or the times we sacrifice to indecision. Those times when we travel an apathetic path that we haven't embraced, but remain on because our inertia keeps us there.

When the twilight draws near and the moments left to us are less than those behind us, what will matter? When our priceless existence is over, what will we have? Each experience, each mental image ultimately will count for next to nothing. But even if it is for naught in the end, what else can we hold on to? Do we live a life of desperate struggle with the onslaught of time, wringing every last bit of experience and possibility from every instant? That person doesn't lay down and let the cold waters of life pass him by. This person fights an impossible, thrashing fight against the current, with a fate of death at best, to the bitter incredulity of onlookers and critics. The endless labor and constant energy do nothing but make the journey more exciting, as the reward is still an eventual slide into silent obscurity.

There is beauty in the serene life, the willful acceptance of time's unfeeling consumption of our hopes. The rock that is worn smooth shows how the promise of the jagged shape has been molded and restrained, so that every struggle is easier than the last, less notable, less complex, until even the little resistance still offered vanishes away into pure nothingness and slips away into the passing stream.

Which way to choose? For me, the regret of lost opportunity stings worse than the regret of hasty action. Maybe that's because I am biased to be risk-averse and conservative, and sabotage my experience because of it. Any thoughts to the contrary?

Science and Interpretation

It is a blessing to have studied both literature (art) and science (nature). For, I posit that just as we try to glean details about Coleridge, Shakespeare, or Camus based on their work, we can similarly glean such details about our creator through creation. Not in a specific sense - we don't really hope to find the birth date or eye color of an artist by studying their art - but in a much more abstract yet intimate way. What did the artist find inspiring? What feelings led them to choose the medium and style of a piece? How did their creative process shape and mold the final work, and what part of the artist is now encapsulated in that work?

This is where I am with God. I seek to know him, but I honestly care little for specifics. I don't want to know the details. I want to grow intimately familiar with the essence. Sure, that sounds new-age experimental and dangerous, but honestly I think otherwise we are in earnest danger of missing the forest entirely for all our obsession over each tree. We need to step back. Way back.

On Hell

Here's an interesting what-if...

What if Hell is a choice? Like, we stay there if we continue to embrace our sin, but then jet out of there as soon as we get over it?

This has some interesting parallels with life here. It's generally believed that doing good stuff is ultimately rewarding, whereas being bad might seem fun but ends up sucking. Yet people continue to do bad. Obviously, we've got some learning issues to contend with as a species. Or, all of us goody-goodies really need to get out more and see what it's really about.

But, there are some really elegant things about this viewpoint. It resolves why some people end up there - they just won't leave! We don't have to blame God for that. And as well, the unpleasantness they're dealing with is just part of the package.

Also, if it sounds absurd, there are a million examples of people choosing misery over and over, when freedom is right across the hall. Abuse victims, addicts, and Cubs fans just for starters.

There's a well-known technique for catching raccoons (which also works on monkeys and small children I'm told) where you place something shiny in a hole with an opening just large enough to get your hand in. The victim grabs the bauble and, because the full fist is larger than the unladen appendage, the hand becomes trapped. Being unwilling to let go, the unfortunate creature remains in this state indefinitely.

There's also a depressingly cruel experiment from back when such things were fashionable where a small, cuddly animal was placed in a cage with an electrified floor. When it was turned on, the experimentee would try to escape for some time, but would eventually accept the hopeless fate it was given and just accept the pain. Where it gets really heinous is when the researchers opened the cage - after learning once that escape was impossible, the test subject wouldn't try any more even with easy escape possible.

So, I didn't include that anecdote just because I was too happy and really needed a downer, but instead to make the point that we often choose the more painful way, because it's familiar, because we think we deserve it, because we think we can't do any better, or because we think there's a perk that makes it worth it. Maybe if we don't go to heaven, it isn't because we can't, but because we won't.

On Time

I think our approach to eternity is way off.

The afterlife gets so much damned mindshare with Christians and religious-types in general, and I don't see any good reason that it should be so. This happens largely because words like "forever" and "everlasting" are thrown about rather liberally in the Bible and a good chunk of other religious literature.

However, how do we use these words today? I would argue that almost every time we encounter them they are used for gross exaggeration of one kind or another, mostly as a habit of language, and often to emphasize a point. When you say you waited forever at the DMV, people KNOW that you weren't actually stuck in an infinite time loop with a ticket number that never got called (this is a good spot to shamelessly plug my next post - On Hell).

Why should we think it was any different in Biblical times? Exaggeration is so well-known that they've coined a term for it - rabbinical hyperbole. Teachers regularly used extreme examples to drive home a symbolic point.

I find it interesting to read statements about everlasting reward for the righteous and eternal suffering for the wicked as descriptive facts on the nature of righteousness and wickedness. This also makes more sense as a discussion topic for Jesus, rather than figuring that he was just crazy obsessed with death and wanted to give us the low-down on the next few eons.

Here's my plan: next time I read a passage that talks about infinite life, rather than thinking about sitting around in some quasi-physical state just being alive pretty much indefinitely, I'm going to think that the passage is saying that you get "life, every time". Reminds me of Sex Panther - 75% of the time, it works every time. Made with real bits of panther.