what did i do for christmas? well, besides the present-opening and time with friends and family, i took some time to do something that seems almost counter to the spirit of the holidays...
i eliminated over 150 people from my facebook "friends."
i have written a few times about the fact that there are not enough words to describe the "friend" relationship. we use the same word to describe someone we met last week as we do with someone we have known 15 years, someone we work with as we do with someone with whom we live. we have to modify the word with things like "best" or "girl" in order to get closer to what the friendship really is.
the use of the word "friend" as a marker for people we are connected to on facebook confounds the word even further. it makes the relationship seem like more than it is. even when people don't know one another they can be "friends." this makes it harder for people to remove others from their facebook account. in order to do that they need to "unfriend" them, thus placing an overly significant amount of value on the click of a mouse button.
i am not saying that the people i have connected with on facebook are people i do not care about. especially now that i have removed some of the people from my list, i have a much stronger relationship to them overall. the people in my news feed are people i know. i want to see their lives and know what they are up to. i like having that window they open into their lives, and i am willing to share my open window with them as well.
with the increase of social media sites and interfaces i am able to keep up on others with whom i prefer to have a greater level of social distance. twitter and linkedin are sites where i can share with others a more professional side. on these sites i am more limited in what i show to the world. even the language and action of these sites is less personal. on twitter you have "followers," and on linkedin you have "connections." on twitter you do not share full albums of your photos, but one at a time. on linkedin you rarely engage in "status updates" of any kind. for me these 3 sites in concert make it possible for me to have some kind of online connection with people in a way that keeps my boundaries appropriate and comfortable. there are circles emanating outward from my digital core that get progressively larger and more impersonal the farther away they get. my facebook "friends" are the smallest in number, and get the most personal information. twitter is next, getting some personal thoughts as well as my professional musings, and linkedin is on the outside. here i keep colleagues, former students, and others who i want to be able to contact, but don't really care to connect with regularly. there are people in all 3, and others in just 1 or 2.
this practice is not at all separate from how we live our lives in the virtual world. we have those who we share with intimately, others we share with professionally, and those who know who we are, but do not know us well. it makes sense to me. it helps me to feel safer in my online identity. it sets things up cleanly with well-defined boundaries.
interestingly i imagine that there might be someone who reads this that is offended by being set into one of these categories. if they are only part of my twitter "followers," rather than my facebook "friends," they might see this as a slight. because social media developed from the inside out, it is a norm to have facebook "friends" we would never be intimate with in real life. "unfriending" someone is seen as an affront - rude. i even saw that in myself when i was doing it - i almost felt guilty. in the end i was able to think about it from this multi-layered perspective, which helped me to know who should fall where.
i think boundaries are helpful - even online.
Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts
17.12.12
grateful for nothing...
today i am grateful for nothing.
no, that does not mean i am ungrateful. it means that i am looking at the world and seeing the things that could be in my life, but are not in my life, and for that, i am grateful.
still confused? think about this.
i remember when i was in middle school we were asked to do drawings of negative space. we set up still life arrangements to draw, but instead of drawing the fruit in the bowl, we drew the space around it. these ended up being some of the prettiest drawings i ever did - once i got the point of the assignment - that the lack of something is not to be ignored, but celebrated.
so what am i celebrating the lack of? well for one thing, i just had my annual physical and i am disease-free, lacking in high cholesterol, lacking in high blood pressure, and did not have to hear my doctor tell me to lose weight or change my diet. though i had fun last night when our power went out, i am grateful it is on again, and tonight i will be lacking in darkness until i choose to welcome it into my life. over break i am grateful for the lack of students experiencing homelessness, and for the lack of crises coming through my door. this leads to a lack of stress, which i am also happy about.
it is funny. i think about this way of seeing things only when something bad happens, and then subsides. the end of my relationship and the death of my dog brought emotional pain into my life. i am grateful that this has subsided. right now i get reminders to be grateful for that because i still have twinges of grief that come in waves. i feel grateful for the calm that comes after that. i feel grateful for the absence of negative thoughts about my personal adequacy, or the question of whether or not i will fall in love again. i feel grateful for the lack of pain when i walk in the door of my house and am not greeted by wagging tail and wiggly kisses. i am not grateful that those are missing from my life, but i am grateful that the dread of going home to those not being there has subsided.
this week, i am grateful to go home at the end of a work day with the absence of terror, shooting, and death.
it seems i should be thinking about these things even if nothing bad has happened - that is hard to do. that said, as i sit here i am grateful that my head does not hurt as it did when i got up this morning. i am grateful i am not hungry, and i am happy for the lack of tiredness which usually hits me near the end of the day. i could go on, and on, and on, with these things that are not there. i think it is important to think about the absence of things.
the negative space around us that could be filled with negative things.
so, again, i am grateful for nothing.
no, that does not mean i am ungrateful. it means that i am looking at the world and seeing the things that could be in my life, but are not in my life, and for that, i am grateful.
still confused? think about this.
i remember when i was in middle school we were asked to do drawings of negative space. we set up still life arrangements to draw, but instead of drawing the fruit in the bowl, we drew the space around it. these ended up being some of the prettiest drawings i ever did - once i got the point of the assignment - that the lack of something is not to be ignored, but celebrated.
so what am i celebrating the lack of? well for one thing, i just had my annual physical and i am disease-free, lacking in high cholesterol, lacking in high blood pressure, and did not have to hear my doctor tell me to lose weight or change my diet. though i had fun last night when our power went out, i am grateful it is on again, and tonight i will be lacking in darkness until i choose to welcome it into my life. over break i am grateful for the lack of students experiencing homelessness, and for the lack of crises coming through my door. this leads to a lack of stress, which i am also happy about.
it is funny. i think about this way of seeing things only when something bad happens, and then subsides. the end of my relationship and the death of my dog brought emotional pain into my life. i am grateful that this has subsided. right now i get reminders to be grateful for that because i still have twinges of grief that come in waves. i feel grateful for the calm that comes after that. i feel grateful for the absence of negative thoughts about my personal adequacy, or the question of whether or not i will fall in love again. i feel grateful for the lack of pain when i walk in the door of my house and am not greeted by wagging tail and wiggly kisses. i am not grateful that those are missing from my life, but i am grateful that the dread of going home to those not being there has subsided.
this week, i am grateful to go home at the end of a work day with the absence of terror, shooting, and death.
it seems i should be thinking about these things even if nothing bad has happened - that is hard to do. that said, as i sit here i am grateful that my head does not hurt as it did when i got up this morning. i am grateful i am not hungry, and i am happy for the lack of tiredness which usually hits me near the end of the day. i could go on, and on, and on, with these things that are not there. i think it is important to think about the absence of things.
the negative space around us that could be filled with negative things.
so, again, i am grateful for nothing.
19.11.12
i can relate to that
i don't post my relationship status on facebook anymore. i used to, but the older i got the more i felt that i wanted my relationships to be deeper personally, and shallower publicly. i know that one can see through my photos that i am seeing someone, but i don't think the little pink heart will ever again grace my news feed - at least not with my name attached.
i recently ended a relationship with a man i met nearly a year ago. we were together very seriously for a while, and i thought there was potential for future growth. what i ended up learning is that the level of intentionality i bring to the things in my life is rare and unique, and that many people don't understand it, let alone share it. now, i did not come to this conclusion solely as a a result of this failed relationship - it was just the capstone to something that i had been thinking about for a while.
ten years ago i jumped into relationships without doing any kind of thinking. who cared really? it was fun, i was young, and if i stumbled sideways into something really long term then i got to be really really lucky. some painful experiences while i was in utah led me to start thinking about how i choose the people i devote myself to. i began to compile a list of things that are important to me, and when i met someone who was outside of these, i focused on friendship rather than cultivating a romantic relationship. of course, you don't know what you don't know, and i ended up finding involvement with some people who fit current criterion, but who taught me other things that i value. absence is such a powerful teacher - cruel, but powerful.
how does anyone find someone? i don't ask that in a pathetic or hopeless way. i just wonder with all of the people in this world, and all of the possibilities for matches, how do folks settle in on one person? i know it is not at all a science, and, because we are biologically meant not to be monogamous, we will be attracted to many. i also know that beyond physical attraction, our environment, emotions, and intentions play a large role. these days i think we have to add the internet in there too, which is just as strange as all the other factors.
i think about it because i'd very much like to meet someone. i think about it not too often, but it does exist there in my conscious mind as a frame on my interactions and my decisions. i used to feel like that was a silly and unnecessary (i dare say, unfeminist) goal. perhaps my 32 year old hormones are kicking in, or i can see the value-added of a partner, or i just want that kind of adventure...no matter the reason i have let go of my biases. when i meet people i am interested in i start thinking about whether or not this person would be someone i could at least fathom being with long term. if the answer is no, as i said before, i shift tack and cultivate a platonic relationship. if the answer is yes, i proceed with intention.
when it comes to things that are really outside my circle of control, like the actions and emotions of others, it seems ridiculous to imagine that intentionality is possible. despite my doubts i know that at least anecdotally it rings true. i have seen friends make decisions about what they want in potential mates, and it informs their choices. one of my friends decided that because she did not want to have children of her own, she would look for men who already had had that experience. she could be involved in children's lives without having to do the things she did not want to do. it worked out for her quite well. when i start to apply those things to my life i can see a string of needs and wants that create a frame for the person i want in my life.
then i start to think...what about the x factor? if i come up with so many ideals and stick to them will i ever find someone? what things are negotiable, and what are deal breakers? how do i decide when my body is awash with oxytocin and dopamine, and i am high off the feeling of having someone new with me? i have no answers to this. i really don't know how to manage it. i think that the intentional part has its own limitations - hence the level of confusion and uncertainty with which i enter into this in the first place.
in the end i suppose it takes measures of intention, luck, biology, time, pain, joy, and risk to get there. i am sure there are still things i don't know i don't know as well. sitting with a partially broken heart the whole thing seems scary right now, but i know it will eventually become neutral, and then interesting, and then exciting once more.
can you relate to that?
i recently ended a relationship with a man i met nearly a year ago. we were together very seriously for a while, and i thought there was potential for future growth. what i ended up learning is that the level of intentionality i bring to the things in my life is rare and unique, and that many people don't understand it, let alone share it. now, i did not come to this conclusion solely as a a result of this failed relationship - it was just the capstone to something that i had been thinking about for a while.
ten years ago i jumped into relationships without doing any kind of thinking. who cared really? it was fun, i was young, and if i stumbled sideways into something really long term then i got to be really really lucky. some painful experiences while i was in utah led me to start thinking about how i choose the people i devote myself to. i began to compile a list of things that are important to me, and when i met someone who was outside of these, i focused on friendship rather than cultivating a romantic relationship. of course, you don't know what you don't know, and i ended up finding involvement with some people who fit current criterion, but who taught me other things that i value. absence is such a powerful teacher - cruel, but powerful.
how does anyone find someone? i don't ask that in a pathetic or hopeless way. i just wonder with all of the people in this world, and all of the possibilities for matches, how do folks settle in on one person? i know it is not at all a science, and, because we are biologically meant not to be monogamous, we will be attracted to many. i also know that beyond physical attraction, our environment, emotions, and intentions play a large role. these days i think we have to add the internet in there too, which is just as strange as all the other factors.
i think about it because i'd very much like to meet someone. i think about it not too often, but it does exist there in my conscious mind as a frame on my interactions and my decisions. i used to feel like that was a silly and unnecessary (i dare say, unfeminist) goal. perhaps my 32 year old hormones are kicking in, or i can see the value-added of a partner, or i just want that kind of adventure...no matter the reason i have let go of my biases. when i meet people i am interested in i start thinking about whether or not this person would be someone i could at least fathom being with long term. if the answer is no, as i said before, i shift tack and cultivate a platonic relationship. if the answer is yes, i proceed with intention.
when it comes to things that are really outside my circle of control, like the actions and emotions of others, it seems ridiculous to imagine that intentionality is possible. despite my doubts i know that at least anecdotally it rings true. i have seen friends make decisions about what they want in potential mates, and it informs their choices. one of my friends decided that because she did not want to have children of her own, she would look for men who already had had that experience. she could be involved in children's lives without having to do the things she did not want to do. it worked out for her quite well. when i start to apply those things to my life i can see a string of needs and wants that create a frame for the person i want in my life.
then i start to think...what about the x factor? if i come up with so many ideals and stick to them will i ever find someone? what things are negotiable, and what are deal breakers? how do i decide when my body is awash with oxytocin and dopamine, and i am high off the feeling of having someone new with me? i have no answers to this. i really don't know how to manage it. i think that the intentional part has its own limitations - hence the level of confusion and uncertainty with which i enter into this in the first place.
in the end i suppose it takes measures of intention, luck, biology, time, pain, joy, and risk to get there. i am sure there are still things i don't know i don't know as well. sitting with a partially broken heart the whole thing seems scary right now, but i know it will eventually become neutral, and then interesting, and then exciting once more.
can you relate to that?
21.11.11
on healing...
after 10 months of stalking people and a fair amount of begging, i've finally landed a spot on a soccer team at the sports park here in corvallis. i've not played soccer since i slogged around the pitch during college, so i was really excited when i had my first game this weekend. i only knew 2 people on the team, and we got our asses handed to us, but it was just so good to be playing again that i could have cared less. i am unsure why i let that part of me (yep, the soccer part of me) fall by the wayside so easily. initially i think it was all the weight i put on in college, and then later, living in utah, the lack of availability of a league to join. regardless, when i stepped onto the pitch yesterday it was my first game in 10 years - totally rad.
of course every action has an equal and opposite reaction (or so they say and i am generally inclined to agree), and i today i woke up feeling very much like i'd been rolled over by some kind of large vehicle. everything - and i do mean everything - hurt. my body is most definitely not accustomed to high impact exercise.
now i am not saying this to complain. quite the opposite actually. the lactic acid buildup in my muscles, the stiffness in my joints - these are things that remind me that: a) i am alive; and b) i get to participate in activities that i love. there is no bad there. even the turf burns that are swollen on my knees like wobbly golf balls indicate that: a) i am still a klutz, and thus continue to be able to laugh at myself; and b) i played as hard as i could.
the one thing that did however toss me for a loop (or more realistically, got my attention a bit more than the soreness), was that two old injuries reared their ugly heads, causing swelling and stiffness that i did not anticipate. ok, i did anticipate that my ankle would be stiff after being jostled around on the turf and subjected to my instep drive, but i did not think that my torn rotator cuff would be angry as well. both were cranky and lacked in range of motion despite years and years of rest, yoga, and physical therapy.
the shoulder was very surprising. it has been five and a half years since i, like a dumbass, rode my bicycle into a tree jed bartlet style and tore the whole thing open. despite not having health insurance, i was able to work with my dad on physical therapy, and beyond occasionally tweaking it in a climbing shock-load, it's been pretty silent. the ankle, a backcountry mishap while at work at aspen, happened a little over three years ago. the doctor was shocked when he discovered that it was not broken. it was close to black from bruising, and the swelling was so bad that my leg was one diameter from mid-calf through the top of my foot. i suppose that with all of that scar tissue it makes sense that i'll be feeling that baby for some time to come.
as i altered poses in my yoga class in order to accommodate my cantankerous joints, i thought about what it takes to fully heal from something. healing is hard. when something breaks in the body - goes the way it should not, fractures, bends, tears - one can be pretty sure that a 100% recovery is impossible. even the smallest of cuts leave scars. doctors can see where bones have healed, scar tissue limits range of motion, people lose hearing, eyesight, the use of limbs...damage to the body leaves a lasting impact.
the day after i was evacuated from the field with what we were sure was a broken ankle, the man i had been involved with for years told me he'd met someone else, and left me in an incredibly cruel way. sitting in therapy a week later, unable to walk and heartbroken, i was able to see that the healing of my body would mirror the healing of my heart. i'm really good at healing the body (well apparently not considering my stiff joints), or at least i know what goes into healing. as a lifelong athlete i've had my fair share of sprains, strains, and dislocations. i understood that time, rest, patience, and care would eventually lead me to be well again. i decided i would apply this kind of healing to the pain of what had just happened to me.
as metaphors go, this one is pretty damn good if you ask me. not only can we heal our emotional wounds by applying the same methods as we do to physical ones, they also resurface at times when we least expect it. not unlike my stiff ankle and shoulder, some of the hurts and pains of my life have come up recently. a year after being offered the job here at oregon state, i am starting to work through some of the things that happened during 2010, and even some of the start of 2011. i am remembering the pain and shame of experiences i had while trying to pay bills, make ends meet, and survive living in my car in the cold. recently i've been waking up not knowing where i am, or being surprised i am in a bed. when i drove to idaho i felt paranoid about traveling without water, food, and a sleeping bag in my car. these things, just like the soreness of old injuries, came up when i did not expect them.
so what to do? well with the ankle and shoulder i am gonna r.i.c.e. that shit, change up my yoga routine, and probably tape the ankle before the next game. but the rest...well i suppose these things will start to settle out with time. i know that talking at the faces of homelessness panel helped me to put words to feelings and events that i'd kept in for the most part. having those honored in a public forum helped. i also have spent a good amount of time meditating. in meditation one can start to untie the knots that are formed in one's psyche. the problem is that, just like physical therapy, it hurts. also the act of opening oneself up to the untying only surfaces more knots. this can be exhausting, and i am often tempted to just stop and block it all up again. sometimes there is just too much. i noted to a friend tonight that there are times when it seems that living life is synonymous with getting hurt.
of course i don't actually believe that.
today i wrote a new song. i am very proud of it both because the guitar part is beautiful and i am very excited that i am able to play it, and because it represents another form of healing. i spent a great amount of time looking at my most recent relationship - what was good, what went wrong, and what i'd like it to become - and i put it into music. writing it was beautiful and painful. when it was done i played it through a number of times as if the singing of the song would somehow draw out the pain and leave me without the stiffness of emotional scar tissue. after running through it more times than i can count, i realized that though the song is for one person in particular, it applies to the lot of my relationships. music - another way to untie the knots.
i will say though that despite all of these attempts to heal, there will always be a part of me that is altered by my experiences. just like the scar on my thumb from when i took a knife through it to the bone, the creaking in my knee from the torn meniscus, or the stiffness in my joints after a soccer game, the emotional injuries will push me to be a slightly different person. i don't think that this is necessarily a bad thing. having reminders of past injuries can help us to avoid new ones. the trick is not to let them box us in. just because i almost broke my ankle does not mean i should not play soccer now, just as having been through a bad breakup does not mean i should not look for someone to love. that said, the scars can serve as reminders of things we don't want to relive. they make us wiser. if we honor these experiences we learn from them and become stronger people.
i guess this means i have to honor my cranky shoulder - shit.
of course every action has an equal and opposite reaction (or so they say and i am generally inclined to agree), and i today i woke up feeling very much like i'd been rolled over by some kind of large vehicle. everything - and i do mean everything - hurt. my body is most definitely not accustomed to high impact exercise.
now i am not saying this to complain. quite the opposite actually. the lactic acid buildup in my muscles, the stiffness in my joints - these are things that remind me that: a) i am alive; and b) i get to participate in activities that i love. there is no bad there. even the turf burns that are swollen on my knees like wobbly golf balls indicate that: a) i am still a klutz, and thus continue to be able to laugh at myself; and b) i played as hard as i could.
the one thing that did however toss me for a loop (or more realistically, got my attention a bit more than the soreness), was that two old injuries reared their ugly heads, causing swelling and stiffness that i did not anticipate. ok, i did anticipate that my ankle would be stiff after being jostled around on the turf and subjected to my instep drive, but i did not think that my torn rotator cuff would be angry as well. both were cranky and lacked in range of motion despite years and years of rest, yoga, and physical therapy.
the shoulder was very surprising. it has been five and a half years since i, like a dumbass, rode my bicycle into a tree jed bartlet style and tore the whole thing open. despite not having health insurance, i was able to work with my dad on physical therapy, and beyond occasionally tweaking it in a climbing shock-load, it's been pretty silent. the ankle, a backcountry mishap while at work at aspen, happened a little over three years ago. the doctor was shocked when he discovered that it was not broken. it was close to black from bruising, and the swelling was so bad that my leg was one diameter from mid-calf through the top of my foot. i suppose that with all of that scar tissue it makes sense that i'll be feeling that baby for some time to come.
as i altered poses in my yoga class in order to accommodate my cantankerous joints, i thought about what it takes to fully heal from something. healing is hard. when something breaks in the body - goes the way it should not, fractures, bends, tears - one can be pretty sure that a 100% recovery is impossible. even the smallest of cuts leave scars. doctors can see where bones have healed, scar tissue limits range of motion, people lose hearing, eyesight, the use of limbs...damage to the body leaves a lasting impact.
the day after i was evacuated from the field with what we were sure was a broken ankle, the man i had been involved with for years told me he'd met someone else, and left me in an incredibly cruel way. sitting in therapy a week later, unable to walk and heartbroken, i was able to see that the healing of my body would mirror the healing of my heart. i'm really good at healing the body (well apparently not considering my stiff joints), or at least i know what goes into healing. as a lifelong athlete i've had my fair share of sprains, strains, and dislocations. i understood that time, rest, patience, and care would eventually lead me to be well again. i decided i would apply this kind of healing to the pain of what had just happened to me.
as metaphors go, this one is pretty damn good if you ask me. not only can we heal our emotional wounds by applying the same methods as we do to physical ones, they also resurface at times when we least expect it. not unlike my stiff ankle and shoulder, some of the hurts and pains of my life have come up recently. a year after being offered the job here at oregon state, i am starting to work through some of the things that happened during 2010, and even some of the start of 2011. i am remembering the pain and shame of experiences i had while trying to pay bills, make ends meet, and survive living in my car in the cold. recently i've been waking up not knowing where i am, or being surprised i am in a bed. when i drove to idaho i felt paranoid about traveling without water, food, and a sleeping bag in my car. these things, just like the soreness of old injuries, came up when i did not expect them.
so what to do? well with the ankle and shoulder i am gonna r.i.c.e. that shit, change up my yoga routine, and probably tape the ankle before the next game. but the rest...well i suppose these things will start to settle out with time. i know that talking at the faces of homelessness panel helped me to put words to feelings and events that i'd kept in for the most part. having those honored in a public forum helped. i also have spent a good amount of time meditating. in meditation one can start to untie the knots that are formed in one's psyche. the problem is that, just like physical therapy, it hurts. also the act of opening oneself up to the untying only surfaces more knots. this can be exhausting, and i am often tempted to just stop and block it all up again. sometimes there is just too much. i noted to a friend tonight that there are times when it seems that living life is synonymous with getting hurt.
of course i don't actually believe that.
today i wrote a new song. i am very proud of it both because the guitar part is beautiful and i am very excited that i am able to play it, and because it represents another form of healing. i spent a great amount of time looking at my most recent relationship - what was good, what went wrong, and what i'd like it to become - and i put it into music. writing it was beautiful and painful. when it was done i played it through a number of times as if the singing of the song would somehow draw out the pain and leave me without the stiffness of emotional scar tissue. after running through it more times than i can count, i realized that though the song is for one person in particular, it applies to the lot of my relationships. music - another way to untie the knots.
i will say though that despite all of these attempts to heal, there will always be a part of me that is altered by my experiences. just like the scar on my thumb from when i took a knife through it to the bone, the creaking in my knee from the torn meniscus, or the stiffness in my joints after a soccer game, the emotional injuries will push me to be a slightly different person. i don't think that this is necessarily a bad thing. having reminders of past injuries can help us to avoid new ones. the trick is not to let them box us in. just because i almost broke my ankle does not mean i should not play soccer now, just as having been through a bad breakup does not mean i should not look for someone to love. that said, the scars can serve as reminders of things we don't want to relive. they make us wiser. if we honor these experiences we learn from them and become stronger people.
i guess this means i have to honor my cranky shoulder - shit.
6.11.11
labels
i was conversing with a friend the other day about gender and sexuality and self-identification, and he, bold as usual, asked me how i identified.
'i don't,' was my reply.
the words actually came out of my mouth before i had thought about it. i had a similar experience a few days later while discussing politics and communities. a different friend, after hearing me rant for about 30 minutes, stated 'i never pegged you to be an anarchist,' to which, i replied, 'i'm not.'
i used to really like defining myself in a set of identifiers, neatly stacked, with squared-off, clean edges. liberal, feminist, environmental, bisexual, locavore, foodie, woman - yes, that's me. but, um, no...it's not.
at this point i am finding that the way in which i place myself onto the identity landscape is not to create for myself a title, but to tell people what i think about things. what followed the 'i don't' regarding my sexuality was a statement about how i am attracted to the energy of a person rather than their gender or sex. what followed the statement 'i'm not' regarding my political views was a statement about how i am convinced that grassroots and community efforts make greater change than widespread policy, and that i prefer when i can to opt out of the mainstream.
we spend a lot of time creating labels for ourselves and others. we base it on ideals, thoughts, beliefs, actions, phenotypes...the things that make up who we are as individuals are packaged and stamped with a brand that puts us among others in a group. it's comforting - for the individual it creates a sense of personal meaning, and places them within a group to which they get to belong. for others it gives some kind of indication of how this person might behave - it creates predictability, and it helps people to make connections to those like them. it makes a lot of sense when i think about it.
but there is something for me that has not been jiving of late. maybe it's a desire to avoid being stereotyped. maybe it's an attempt to feed my inner ODD teenager's defiance. maybe it's simply because i don't know what to call myself. i think about all of the nuance and spectra within identity, compound that with fluidity and cross-sectionality, and simply start to feel overwhelmed. if i call myself bisexual it feels like i start to lose something. i could modify it by pairing the label with a kinsey scale number, but that even seems too simple. it does not strike at the center of understanding that includes the kinds of attraction i have, the time of my life i am in, how i have been in the past, what makes sense to me in the moment, and how i don't want to be seen. i could go through this process with every identity that may or may not be placed upon me. in the end i think i'd just rather make statements of thought, belief, and action, and leave it at that.
i am fortunate enough at this point in my life to have friends who are willing to stick with me through this. that said, there are times when i am dealing with someone who is not close enough for me to share my beliefs. in those moments i might choose to use a label that can stand between us. they get to feel like they know me - i get to keep myself to myself.
label as barrier to the self...
i think that another reason i avoid labels is that they can so quickly dehumanize us. useful tool for dealing with acquaintances aside, labels can readily turn people into groups, and groups into the masses that we 'other' in order to demonize, pathologize, or even kill. i think about how race labels were created in rwanda, and how that 'othering' played a part in political strife, conflict, and eventually genocide. i'm not saying that putting a label on someone is a sure way toward hacking them up with a machete, but it does place them one step either closer in to you and away from 'other,' or one step farther into 'otherness.' it's like the 99%. on one hand i love that claiming this label stands me in solidarity with others. it creates a sense of power for people who feel they have none. it also dehumanizes. it makes the 1% into evil, faceless, greedmongers who are out to hurt us. not everyone within this percentage fits that bill, and they are people too. on the flip side it dissolves the individuality of the 99% while diluting the causes and stories that each one represents. that's what the placards are for - people trying to assert both.
i also wonder whether or not i am placing barriers around myself by not claiming a label. i did say that labels help us to connect with others - and it does so with alacrity. not being willing to label myself can potentially make connection harder with people i first meet. if i don't claim a label initially, regardless of whether or not that dissolves my nuanced self, i may not be granted the time with that person to go more deeply. labels are often the conversation starters - not the end result.
at this point though i am opting for a label alternative. i come up with some kind of bumper-sticker statement that gives people enough information about me to understand and connect to without conceding to the branding. perhaps i am disrupting the practice..perhaps i am colluding by simply creating new labels that include a few more words.
at the moment it's working for me.
'i don't,' was my reply.
the words actually came out of my mouth before i had thought about it. i had a similar experience a few days later while discussing politics and communities. a different friend, after hearing me rant for about 30 minutes, stated 'i never pegged you to be an anarchist,' to which, i replied, 'i'm not.'
i used to really like defining myself in a set of identifiers, neatly stacked, with squared-off, clean edges. liberal, feminist, environmental, bisexual, locavore, foodie, woman - yes, that's me. but, um, no...it's not.
at this point i am finding that the way in which i place myself onto the identity landscape is not to create for myself a title, but to tell people what i think about things. what followed the 'i don't' regarding my sexuality was a statement about how i am attracted to the energy of a person rather than their gender or sex. what followed the statement 'i'm not' regarding my political views was a statement about how i am convinced that grassroots and community efforts make greater change than widespread policy, and that i prefer when i can to opt out of the mainstream.
we spend a lot of time creating labels for ourselves and others. we base it on ideals, thoughts, beliefs, actions, phenotypes...the things that make up who we are as individuals are packaged and stamped with a brand that puts us among others in a group. it's comforting - for the individual it creates a sense of personal meaning, and places them within a group to which they get to belong. for others it gives some kind of indication of how this person might behave - it creates predictability, and it helps people to make connections to those like them. it makes a lot of sense when i think about it.
but there is something for me that has not been jiving of late. maybe it's a desire to avoid being stereotyped. maybe it's an attempt to feed my inner ODD teenager's defiance. maybe it's simply because i don't know what to call myself. i think about all of the nuance and spectra within identity, compound that with fluidity and cross-sectionality, and simply start to feel overwhelmed. if i call myself bisexual it feels like i start to lose something. i could modify it by pairing the label with a kinsey scale number, but that even seems too simple. it does not strike at the center of understanding that includes the kinds of attraction i have, the time of my life i am in, how i have been in the past, what makes sense to me in the moment, and how i don't want to be seen. i could go through this process with every identity that may or may not be placed upon me. in the end i think i'd just rather make statements of thought, belief, and action, and leave it at that.
i am fortunate enough at this point in my life to have friends who are willing to stick with me through this. that said, there are times when i am dealing with someone who is not close enough for me to share my beliefs. in those moments i might choose to use a label that can stand between us. they get to feel like they know me - i get to keep myself to myself.
label as barrier to the self...
i think that another reason i avoid labels is that they can so quickly dehumanize us. useful tool for dealing with acquaintances aside, labels can readily turn people into groups, and groups into the masses that we 'other' in order to demonize, pathologize, or even kill. i think about how race labels were created in rwanda, and how that 'othering' played a part in political strife, conflict, and eventually genocide. i'm not saying that putting a label on someone is a sure way toward hacking them up with a machete, but it does place them one step either closer in to you and away from 'other,' or one step farther into 'otherness.' it's like the 99%. on one hand i love that claiming this label stands me in solidarity with others. it creates a sense of power for people who feel they have none. it also dehumanizes. it makes the 1% into evil, faceless, greedmongers who are out to hurt us. not everyone within this percentage fits that bill, and they are people too. on the flip side it dissolves the individuality of the 99% while diluting the causes and stories that each one represents. that's what the placards are for - people trying to assert both.
i also wonder whether or not i am placing barriers around myself by not claiming a label. i did say that labels help us to connect with others - and it does so with alacrity. not being willing to label myself can potentially make connection harder with people i first meet. if i don't claim a label initially, regardless of whether or not that dissolves my nuanced self, i may not be granted the time with that person to go more deeply. labels are often the conversation starters - not the end result.
at this point though i am opting for a label alternative. i come up with some kind of bumper-sticker statement that gives people enough information about me to understand and connect to without conceding to the branding. perhaps i am disrupting the practice..perhaps i am colluding by simply creating new labels that include a few more words.
at the moment it's working for me.
2.10.11
on being a friend...
cue randy newman, pictures of cute puppy dogs snuggling, maybe a montage of people laughing and hugging and holding hands.
oh wait - that's not what i meant at all.
been thinking a lot recently about what it means to be a friend. i realized i'd never really done any thinking about it for myself, and by that i mean that i've never decided what being a friend means to me in thought but also in action. i spent years telling my kids in the backcountry what makes a good friend, but, per usual, i did not take the time to apply my spoken wisdom to my lived experience.
one of my students at aspen requested to me that he lead a group on friendship. i was impressed that the kid had thought up a group idea and cared enough about it to lead it, and of course i found a good chunk of time to make it happen. this young man had gone through incredible changes while in the program - he'd arrived an angry kid from a rural area whose drinking and challenging behaviors had led his mother to send him away. i remember the first week i spent with him he only spoke when we asked him to. weeks later i found myself sitting in a circle with him while he led the group in a moment of silence. when we all opened the circle he pulled a letter out of his pocket and stared at it for a while. he looked like he might cry. we were all silent and rapt in our attention, our eyes on the top of his head as he bent low into his lap and started to tell us his story.
this kid had a friend - the kind of buddy you do everything with. they were essentially brothers. some years before our circle in the utah mountains my student and his friend went out with some others to drink and ride snowmobiles. they were drunk and the night was amazing. just before they had to be home for curfew his friend decided one more run across the field they were in was in order. he zipped off and never returned. when they found him he had crashed, his neck broken.
in the months that followed my student was by his friend's bedside as he struggled for his life, and later dealt with the intense reality of being paralyzed. my student told me that in their conversations in the hospital that his friend had decided he would never drink again. my student agreed that was a good idea, and entered into an agreement with his friend. however, he found himself going out and getting wasted with other kids regularly, and began to feel guilty that he was lying to his pal. his friend knew something was up and confronted him. my student got angry, lied, and left. he did not return after that. he rationalized the situation by telling himself that his friend was a fool who deserved what happened to him. he clearly could not handle things like drinking, and it was better that he did not. my student told us that he blamed his friend rather than alcohol, and chose drinking over brotherhood. the guilt became so intense that he could not think about his pal let alone see him. the two had not spoken since that day.
then my student opened the letter in his lap and started to read. the letter was from his friend.
when my student left for aspen his mother was alone and struggling with her own issues as well as the pain of what her son had become. this was a last chance for my student - he'd been sent to aspen rather than juvenile detention, and if he did not do well there he would be sent to jail. my student's friend, when he heard what had happened, called my student's mother on the phone and offered support. she had spoken with my student's therapist and gotten permission to send my student a letter from his friend.
my student's friend shared that he still loved his friend, and that he wanted to help him because he knew that what had happened was about addiction. my student's friend, wheelchair-bound, had moved into my student's house and was living with his mother so that she did not have to be alone. my student's friend told my student that he was going to be there when my student got home, would support him in staying sober, and had forgiven him for choosing alcohol over friendship. that said, he shared his hurt and disappointment in the situation, and told his friend that what he did was not OK. the words in the letter were plain and direct - there was no romance in it. this was the simplest declaration of brotherly love one could hear. my student read us this letter with his head up, tears streaming down his face. he did not care if this group of teenage boys saw him cry.
but then again - we were all crying too.
when the letter was over my student folded it back up and placed it in his pocket. he looked at his peers and said 'that is a true friend.' the silent nods of the group were more powerful than any words.
i share this story because it serves to me as a wonderful jumping off point for thoughts about friendship. i have more friends than i do any other kind of relationship - more people than are in my family, more people than i've had lovers. friendship is also cross-cutting. i am friends with my family and my lovers. i see it as such an important role - friend. it means so many things.
it can get diluted. we 'friend' people on facebook, and use the word as a placeholder to describe the person we are talking about or to ('let me tell you, friend!'). it is used to describe acquaintances as well as soul mates. we tack on words or prefixes to modify it - boyfriend, girlfriend, best friend. i see it in greeting cards, on picture frames, and in cut out block letters hanging in people's offices. you know how if you say a word over and over again it loses its meaning? sometimes i think that happens to 'friend.'
it's totally happening now.
what's hard about being a friend is that it is not all just happy songs and butterflies, laughter and chocolate cake. being a friend means being a part of it all - the pain, the happiness, the love, and the harsh. it means letting the relationship change as it needs to. it means being willing to say the hard things rather than just what the other person wants you to say. it means forgiving. it means having boundaries. it can be jealously or joy - hope or hurt. one of the most profound people i worked with at aspen told me that sometimes the most compassionate thing a person can do is to tell you that you are full of shit. the best friends i've ever had are willing to do that for me.
i think about this now as i live in a new town and am 'making friends' regularly. i've met so many people in my life, and in the past 8 months there are so many new 'friends' that i am not sure i even can remember all of their names. this is what i mean - what do i call someone i just met? are they my friend? am i theirs? i wonder if it would not be a good idea for us to start creating new words to describe the relationships we have - kind of like how some native peoples have hundreds of words to describe different kinds of snow. when you meet someone and like them you become 'friends,' but that is intensely different than the relationship i have with my friend whom i've known for 12 years and who is willing to tell me when i suck. you don't tell new people you meet when they suck - that's not friendly then.
when do we cross the line into another level of friendship, and how can we create a language to describe it?
should we even do that, or is it better just to leave words out of it and let the feelings and actions dictate?
i want to be a good friend to those i've just met, and to those i have known forever. whether or not i can describe it, i think friendship is immensely important.
what do you think my friends?
oh wait - that's not what i meant at all.
been thinking a lot recently about what it means to be a friend. i realized i'd never really done any thinking about it for myself, and by that i mean that i've never decided what being a friend means to me in thought but also in action. i spent years telling my kids in the backcountry what makes a good friend, but, per usual, i did not take the time to apply my spoken wisdom to my lived experience.
one of my students at aspen requested to me that he lead a group on friendship. i was impressed that the kid had thought up a group idea and cared enough about it to lead it, and of course i found a good chunk of time to make it happen. this young man had gone through incredible changes while in the program - he'd arrived an angry kid from a rural area whose drinking and challenging behaviors had led his mother to send him away. i remember the first week i spent with him he only spoke when we asked him to. weeks later i found myself sitting in a circle with him while he led the group in a moment of silence. when we all opened the circle he pulled a letter out of his pocket and stared at it for a while. he looked like he might cry. we were all silent and rapt in our attention, our eyes on the top of his head as he bent low into his lap and started to tell us his story.
this kid had a friend - the kind of buddy you do everything with. they were essentially brothers. some years before our circle in the utah mountains my student and his friend went out with some others to drink and ride snowmobiles. they were drunk and the night was amazing. just before they had to be home for curfew his friend decided one more run across the field they were in was in order. he zipped off and never returned. when they found him he had crashed, his neck broken.
in the months that followed my student was by his friend's bedside as he struggled for his life, and later dealt with the intense reality of being paralyzed. my student told me that in their conversations in the hospital that his friend had decided he would never drink again. my student agreed that was a good idea, and entered into an agreement with his friend. however, he found himself going out and getting wasted with other kids regularly, and began to feel guilty that he was lying to his pal. his friend knew something was up and confronted him. my student got angry, lied, and left. he did not return after that. he rationalized the situation by telling himself that his friend was a fool who deserved what happened to him. he clearly could not handle things like drinking, and it was better that he did not. my student told us that he blamed his friend rather than alcohol, and chose drinking over brotherhood. the guilt became so intense that he could not think about his pal let alone see him. the two had not spoken since that day.
then my student opened the letter in his lap and started to read. the letter was from his friend.
when my student left for aspen his mother was alone and struggling with her own issues as well as the pain of what her son had become. this was a last chance for my student - he'd been sent to aspen rather than juvenile detention, and if he did not do well there he would be sent to jail. my student's friend, when he heard what had happened, called my student's mother on the phone and offered support. she had spoken with my student's therapist and gotten permission to send my student a letter from his friend.
my student's friend shared that he still loved his friend, and that he wanted to help him because he knew that what had happened was about addiction. my student's friend, wheelchair-bound, had moved into my student's house and was living with his mother so that she did not have to be alone. my student's friend told my student that he was going to be there when my student got home, would support him in staying sober, and had forgiven him for choosing alcohol over friendship. that said, he shared his hurt and disappointment in the situation, and told his friend that what he did was not OK. the words in the letter were plain and direct - there was no romance in it. this was the simplest declaration of brotherly love one could hear. my student read us this letter with his head up, tears streaming down his face. he did not care if this group of teenage boys saw him cry.
but then again - we were all crying too.
when the letter was over my student folded it back up and placed it in his pocket. he looked at his peers and said 'that is a true friend.' the silent nods of the group were more powerful than any words.
i share this story because it serves to me as a wonderful jumping off point for thoughts about friendship. i have more friends than i do any other kind of relationship - more people than are in my family, more people than i've had lovers. friendship is also cross-cutting. i am friends with my family and my lovers. i see it as such an important role - friend. it means so many things.
it can get diluted. we 'friend' people on facebook, and use the word as a placeholder to describe the person we are talking about or to ('let me tell you, friend!'). it is used to describe acquaintances as well as soul mates. we tack on words or prefixes to modify it - boyfriend, girlfriend, best friend. i see it in greeting cards, on picture frames, and in cut out block letters hanging in people's offices. you know how if you say a word over and over again it loses its meaning? sometimes i think that happens to 'friend.'
it's totally happening now.
what's hard about being a friend is that it is not all just happy songs and butterflies, laughter and chocolate cake. being a friend means being a part of it all - the pain, the happiness, the love, and the harsh. it means letting the relationship change as it needs to. it means being willing to say the hard things rather than just what the other person wants you to say. it means forgiving. it means having boundaries. it can be jealously or joy - hope or hurt. one of the most profound people i worked with at aspen told me that sometimes the most compassionate thing a person can do is to tell you that you are full of shit. the best friends i've ever had are willing to do that for me.
i think about this now as i live in a new town and am 'making friends' regularly. i've met so many people in my life, and in the past 8 months there are so many new 'friends' that i am not sure i even can remember all of their names. this is what i mean - what do i call someone i just met? are they my friend? am i theirs? i wonder if it would not be a good idea for us to start creating new words to describe the relationships we have - kind of like how some native peoples have hundreds of words to describe different kinds of snow. when you meet someone and like them you become 'friends,' but that is intensely different than the relationship i have with my friend whom i've known for 12 years and who is willing to tell me when i suck. you don't tell new people you meet when they suck - that's not friendly then.
when do we cross the line into another level of friendship, and how can we create a language to describe it?
should we even do that, or is it better just to leave words out of it and let the feelings and actions dictate?
i want to be a good friend to those i've just met, and to those i have known forever. whether or not i can describe it, i think friendship is immensely important.
what do you think my friends?
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