He passes by two sets of three seats facing him on either side with two people flanking the seats leaving only the bitch position in the middle on both sides. Do I sit down and cause them to shift over or do I stand? If after standing for a few moments, will those people think it’s weird I’ve changed my mind and decided to sit down. My legs are killing me…

The bus is almost to my stop. Do I stand up or wait for others to get in front of me? The bus arrives. Okay. Thank you so much.

“You’re welcome.”

That was inauthentic. How could he have made the bus driver’s day better?  What could have he said differently to make a genuine connection? How?

“Smooth ride man, I appreciate it.”
“No proble…”
No, no.
Touch shoulder “You’re a good man”
Awkward! Forget it. I should have said something going on the bus like…

Thinking it over, his wife of 6 years knows what he is doing. Simulating again? Oh shoot. His face contorts with the rhythm of natural conversation which looks odd since he’s talking to himself, doubly odd because he’s talking to himself as someone else too. His face is playing two people. His mouth opens and closes like he’s talking. His eyes shift like a squirrel watching for the hawk, only he’s not watching anything.

Lame.

It’s okay to be an idiot—it’s probably a great thing. It’s decidedly not okay to keep on being an idiot.

…a  little odd for a reply  to someone questioning the availability of ice cream for everyone.

At the end, Kostner disappointed Kutcher when he finally revealed his number: 18 (or thereabouts). Kutcher was astounded at Kostner, a celebrity rescue swimmer and he had only rescued 18? Kutcher had spent his entire movie proving his self worth by setting time records and he intended to be the rescue swimmer with the most saved lives.  Then Kostner clarified what his number meant. It was the number of lives he lost. The only number which mattered to him.

There are times in my life where I’ve felt pure anger at others for doubting my worth. The most traumatic of which started when I was 16 and I detailed to a friend how I wanted to start a business. She thought it was ridiculous. I fought back with words and from the mental stress of the whole thing a hole burst in my right retina which led to laser surgery and impaired vision in my right eye.

I’ll show you! You’ll be sorry you doubted me! TO hell with you, the best revenge is living a wonderful life you’ll never know!

Or something to that effect. Then I unleash a flurry of activity. I get driven and a work like a demon.

And then I stop…

I usually succumbed to haplessness, I seemed unfocused and unambitious. I felt it too. It’s in part because after each one of these incidences I felt I’d lost a part of myself I never wanted to lose, kindess, a soft heart, a willingness to be there for someone even when it’s inconvenient for me.

The downside of devoting myself to proving self-worth is I would have to agree to do things which others think are worthy, not what I think is worthy. This easily leads to a life path where I’m 40 years old, established, others respect me, and I’ll find I have no interest in what I do. Everything I have done would have been things which others thought were worthy.

Perhaps everyone would benefit from having a number of some sort. I can think of two numbers for me to use to demonstrate my self worth to myself.

1. Making things — I’m always happy when I write something new, create a website, or come up with a new dish. This number indicates my engagement with life.
2. Giving others a lift — whether it’s through things I made, lending an empathic ear, or helping out around the house. This number indicates how well I’m making the world a better place to live for others and makes me feel good too.

In person, it’s easier for an event to have a life changing impact on you. For something to still impact you through a medium (play, book, film, recording, photo), that’s art.

Art defies the you-had-to-be-there feeling. Even though you weren’t there, you felt it, you’ll always remember it—whatever ‘it’ is.

Frost vs. Nixon helped me feel like I was right there in the 70’s. I could see how hippies were repudiated by the respectable middle-class same as tea party protesters are repudiated today. Don’t Stop Believing by Journey can make almost anyone feel like they’re young and making a name for themselves again. When I watch Lord of the Rings, I understand Hope.

A great speech is in another class entirely. Martin Luther King’s I Have a Dream packs a punch in print, in audio, in a YouTube clip, or in person.A great speech defies the need for artistic production. It works in any form.

If you want to do something artistic, do 2 things. Know your audience’s worldview and mediate an abstract idea or event which will address their worldview and turn it on its head through whatever medium you prefer.

Any production (photography, movies, painting) which doesn’t change someone’s worldview but makes people feel good is beauty not art—which I’ll address in a later post.

Cheers and luck,

Eric

This I Believe was started by Edward R. Murrow, the man portrayed in Good Night and Good Luck, in the 50’s to encourage Americans to share their personal belief sets.

I’ve particularly enjoyed listening to Einstein’s, Brian Greene’s, Isabel Allende’s, one about a independent woman losing her fiance and learning how to let others help her, one about a Vietnam vet learning the value of kind acts from strangers, and Newt Gingrich’s This I Believe was insightful into the conservative mindset.

I thought up the crux of mine while cleaning up the kitchen. I hope you enjoy it.

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The Power of the Invisible

My college anthropology teacher had my class go sit somewhere for three hours to write down everything we observed for an ethnography. I chose to go to Starbucks.

I bought an iced chai, found a free table and sat with my notebook and pen for those hours. Over the course of those three hours I wrote down everything I noticed. Most of what I wrote were things anyone would expect or find uninteresting -  two men meeting who drank with their left hands or a girl sitting alone reading a book.

In the corner of the room, by the window, was a spot so snug only one table could be placed. It was separated from other tables by two armchairs and a newspaper stand. I marked these details down after I noticed four different couples who came in at different times, never crossing paths, consistently choosing to sit in that corner. I realized how the isolation of the table increased its appeal for a couple that wants to shut the world out and revel in the joy of aloneness. I only noticed this pattern after investing time into observing that which would ordinarily go unnoticed.

I believe in the power of the invisible to shape our lives.

It could be little known Supreme Court cases and past legislation which have shaped our current healthcare dilemma.

It could be geography and easy access to other nations by sea which effects our economic prosperity and makes landlocked, mountainous nations like Bolivia, Afghanistan, and Paraguay struggle.

It could be history we don’t know such as forgetting 1928 was the last year the income gap between rich and poor was as great as it is in 2009.

It could be eating more due to a large plate size or spending less time eating per person in McDonalds because of uncomfortable seats.

It could be recognizing that a child’s misbehavior is due to uncontrolled environmental cirsumstances.

It could be forgotten intentions and historical context which shaped the meaning of the ten commandments and the Bible, meanings most today do not share or comprehend when reading the Bible.

There are so many things we do not see which shape our lives. I believe by noticing the invisible through continued and careful observation, I can improve the lives of others through business, invention, and education.

I like birthdays again.

I loved my birthday as a kid. I had my friends over, we played games, once I received a Hulk Hogan doll, and ate cake.

As I aged I grew less social, more bookish, and I desired fewer material things since my family’s financial situation had improved. Books were the way to my heart then. Everything which made birthdays important to me as a kid became unimportant and so too birthdays were unimportant to me.

Also, I think I felt sad about my social situation and chose to ignore my birthday the way some singles ignore Valentine’s day.

Yesterday I celebrated my birthday with my wife. I woke up next to my most favorite person in the world who by this time had learned I care little for gifts and knows I prefer experiences as presents. Books, by now, are out because of the library. She did that by having my friends surprise me for lunch at the Central Market Cafe. Can you see why I love her?

I’ll always remember the surprise.

Last night, it occured to me birthdays don’t have to be only about presents and good company. I’ve decided my birthday is my reminder to be grateful for all the people who have made up my life.

I’m going to write thank you notes and perhaps one day give gifts to those who’ve made my life wonderful on my birthday.

Yesterday I started by writing thank you notes to my family and a few friends. Next year I’ll take it one step further.

I’m celebrating my existence with good company, great experiences, and now by celebrating those who’ve made my life something worth living.

Cheers and luck,
Eric

These past few weeks have been one of the most painful of my life.

My love and I learned a miscarriage was imminent. Then she went through the most pain I had ever seen her go through and I could do absolutely nothing about it. The physical pain lasted at least 2 weeks. We’re still dealing with the emotional pain and probably will wrestle with it for a very long time.

We both distracted ourselves by watching Dollhouse, Fringe, Kings, Glee, The Office on Hulu, any Netflix movie and even movies from Redbox. Sadly there were no House, Lie to Me, or Bones episodes we hadn’t seen available to watch. I rubbed her feet at night and at times her back. I figured out how to do one armed pushups and one legged squats from YouTube. My small pleasure from that is seeing a less bony chest in the mirror.

My kombucha culture continues to grow. We bought a 2.25 gallon container from The Container Store to give it a bigger home and, most important to me, a wider surface area for the culture to grow in. The Kombucha culture is aerobic and floats on top of the water to process both oxygen and sucrose. Elizabeth says it looks like a Jellyfish.

Throughout this time I had, of course, been keeping my parents updated. They knew what we were going through. I wanted so much for them to come up to Austin to be with us however I felt that would be asking too much. They have their own worries, concerns, and hardships to deal with. Why add another burden? Or so I thought.

I got into my intellectual, rational mode and described our situation as a lab scientist would. We are going through a tough time. We aren’t looking for condolence or consolation – this part, at least, was sincere. We know we’ll be okay. They said they could come up if we needed them too and I said don’t worry.

Frankly, I was lying to myself and to them. And worse and I slowed down the grieving process.

Consolation I don’t care for and probably never will but acknowledgement I craved. I wanted some recognition of our loss. Socially, knowing they knew about the happy news and not getting much acknowledgement that it was over made the whole pregnancy experience feel unimportant.

By not acknowledging the ending others invalidate the beginning and the existence of what to us was very real.

Elizabeth and I love to analyze and find solutions to problems and this problem too was addressed.

I realised part of the problem for us started in how we shared the news. By just and only announcing the impending miscarriage we left others to fall back on their habits for dealing with grief. Leaving us feeling worse since we needed others to deal with our grief very differently than they are used to.

It’s far better to announce a miscarriage through a letter wherein we can tell them the situation and what we need and how they can help and how important our family is to us to get through this. I feel a pain in my heart hoping there won’t be a next time. But if there is, this is how I will deal with it.

Lately we have thrown ourselves back in to the photography business game and want to improve our financial situation. This raises our spirit even if it brings occasional irritation dealing with impotent software.

At the time I’m reading several books about the body. I love to know specifics and not knowing anatomical terms nor even how to understand anatomical texts using terms such as sagittal, medial, proximal and the like just galls me. Soon the situation will be rectified.

I look forward to the future and what I can do everyday to better myself so that one day I can help others. Seneca helps, as does restricting time on Metafilter and Reddit.

Cheers and luck,
Eric