So, in such the unpopular way of contemplating religion in a serious manner, I decide to say that perhaps spirituality has something to offer in a way of comfort by way of happiness.
Why? Well, there are no easy answers and they all potentially lie within the decision of the individual. I believe that spirituality is personal. It is not a collective feeling at least in the West. I'm here in the Islamic world and religion is collective and it means that outward representation of piety is at a premium and we all know (at least those of us who believe in SOMETHING) that the outward representation of piety has no meaning. Piety lie within us and the representation of goodness is not to be flaunted, why? Because it is for its own sake.
Piety is too often used as a method of deflection of responsibility- like here in Morocco there is a law allowing a man to marry an underage rape victim (possibly his own victim) in order to avoid jail. If you don't believe me look at the press within the last week where this story has been picked up by most high profile Western newspapers. It barely deserves understanding except that there are those of you who believe that somehow all cultures are equal. They are not.
We owe it to ourselves to not doubt the concept of "right"- that makes us most fearful that our definition is inaccurate and, well, perhaps, it will find detraction from people who have culturally relativistic ideas. That is bullshit. The happiness that I experience is my own and it is not for me alone. It should be for all women.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Thursday, July 14, 2011
EXIT/EXILE/EXPAT/EXPLAIN
Coming into America…
The first people I see…they have meaning that they cannot know, and they might not even understand.
I see them in their diversity and also in their inequality. In my hometown, at least, white people are the ones traveling, black and latino people are helping them do it.
Usually I am very pleased to see them all, thinking about how great my nation is, really. That’s what I was brought up to think. Watch any channel exported, calling itself “international”, like CNN, and I see my nation (“MY nation”, my country). Patriotism couldn’t be further apart as a concept of pride and citizenship /belonging between a German and an American.
What did Monika say last Wednesday: Ein Mensch ist 96% unbewusst, nur 4% bewusst. (A person is 96% unconscious, only 4% conscious of all that is around them.)
I would believe it, really. We do not know all of what influences us—I realized scent really influenced my emotions (the white carnation and red rose I doused in Dad’s cologne after he died, flowers pulled from the bouquets on his grave.) Then, I learned that our sense of smell might be the oldest sense we have, buried deep within our brains with its synapses and connectors...
I was at yet another German wedding last week. The party was additionally fun because of the music played—total ausgeprägt von Goth und 80-ziger Jahren hits! The Cure, The Clash, Sisters of Mercy, U2, and then Nirvana and Green Day.
I felt a pride that always occurs with hearing good English-language music.
I just sang along and looked around as I danced, wondering how many others would know the lyrics, AND what they meant at the time they were written or now. Somewhere singing along to U2. Tears filling my eyes at how far away Double Cell really is from me..and then we embrace eachother whole-heartedly after months of barely virtual communication. Someone wasn’t their to feel the distance with me.
WHY have we chosen this?? WHY have I chosen this life for myself??! This distance in my heart, my life, my understanding, is always somehow apart…if it wasn’t already, then I imagine it. Apart, disoriented, but mostly lovely. This is a partial response to Double Cell's musings on travel.
The first people I see…they have meaning that they cannot know, and they might not even understand.
I see them in their diversity and also in their inequality. In my hometown, at least, white people are the ones traveling, black and latino people are helping them do it.
Usually I am very pleased to see them all, thinking about how great my nation is, really. That’s what I was brought up to think. Watch any channel exported, calling itself “international”, like CNN, and I see my nation (“MY nation”, my country). Patriotism couldn’t be further apart as a concept of pride and citizenship /belonging between a German and an American.
What did Monika say last Wednesday: Ein Mensch ist 96% unbewusst, nur 4% bewusst. (A person is 96% unconscious, only 4% conscious of all that is around them.)
I would believe it, really. We do not know all of what influences us—I realized scent really influenced my emotions (the white carnation and red rose I doused in Dad’s cologne after he died, flowers pulled from the bouquets on his grave.) Then, I learned that our sense of smell might be the oldest sense we have, buried deep within our brains with its synapses and connectors...
I was at yet another German wedding last week. The party was additionally fun because of the music played—total ausgeprägt von Goth und 80-ziger Jahren hits! The Cure, The Clash, Sisters of Mercy, U2, and then Nirvana and Green Day.
I felt a pride that always occurs with hearing good English-language music.
I just sang along and looked around as I danced, wondering how many others would know the lyrics, AND what they meant at the time they were written or now. Somewhere singing along to U2. Tears filling my eyes at how far away Double Cell really is from me..and then we embrace eachother whole-heartedly after months of barely virtual communication. Someone wasn’t their to feel the distance with me.
WHY have we chosen this?? WHY have I chosen this life for myself??! This distance in my heart, my life, my understanding, is always somehow apart…if it wasn’t already, then I imagine it. Apart, disoriented, but mostly lovely. This is a partial response to Double Cell's musings on travel.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Let's Talk About Egypt
By now I'm sure most of our readers have gathered that Jenius and I are expats living outside of our native U.S. Jenius on the European continent and me somewhere in one of the Gulf Cooperation Council countries with loads of oil rents flowing in. I want to say briefly that one thing Jenius and I KNOW- in our guts- is that traveling makes us very happy and it is a cure for many of the traps we lay for ourselves. This is because the vastness of the world will humble you, if you let it. (Jenius may have other ideas as well for why this is the case).
So, I was in Cairo last week on business and fell in love with the place. It was dirty, it was crowded, cars do not stop unless they have to through collision (no traffic lights). People were invigorated over the revolution. Every Egyptian I encountered would be friendly and ask eventually, "Did you hear about Tahrir Square?" Such a proud moment it was for them to have overthrown their government. When one can feel the euphoria of a poor or middle class man/woman's triumph over a dictator with a 30-year reign, one can serious gain some perspective.
Travel also renews the longing I have for those I love. When you're too busy to remember what's important on a day-to-day basis with job, study, whatever, there is nothing like a volley over to a country where history is being made. Speaking of which, I hope to get to Iran next year.
So, I was in Cairo last week on business and fell in love with the place. It was dirty, it was crowded, cars do not stop unless they have to through collision (no traffic lights). People were invigorated over the revolution. Every Egyptian I encountered would be friendly and ask eventually, "Did you hear about Tahrir Square?" Such a proud moment it was for them to have overthrown their government. When one can feel the euphoria of a poor or middle class man/woman's triumph over a dictator with a 30-year reign, one can serious gain some perspective.
Travel also renews the longing I have for those I love. When you're too busy to remember what's important on a day-to-day basis with job, study, whatever, there is nothing like a volley over to a country where history is being made. Speaking of which, I hope to get to Iran next year.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Breaking Boredom: Happiness in Spite of Monotony!!
Sometimes I feel like I need someone to pinch me. I had a short dream the other night that I woke up (in the dream) and was back in the U.S. somewhere familiar as if the last 5 years hadn’t passed. I remember in the dream that I said to myself, “I just knew it was a dream!” What is so strange about the place I currently live is the lack of people like me- young (ish), not married but with someone, certainly not a virgin since at least the age of 20, maybe living in sin, no kids (yet), working full time, literate in the English language, American or at the least British or at least some kind of European with a sense of humor. It’s a wasteland. It’s a bit like being back in the village in rural Northeast Thailand where hot weather would render everyone useless (but here it's a glut of money that makes people useless)- I spent 2 weeks lying beneath a fan on a tile floor eating nothing but mangoes, drinking water and reading Henry Kissinger’s Diplomacy - except this country has some modern trappings like a movie theater, shopping malls, fancy restaurants- that don’t seem to make a difference in the lack of variety. This could be because the movies are cut to shreds by censors in the Ministry of Interior, malls are all the same with little variety, and there is no wine on the menus. I am certainly describing a redundancy of existence that few other places could match.
Does this mean I have, myself, grown boring and redundant? I hope not and, oh dear, must do something soon! My mother suggested I start a book club. This idea is sound, very sound, indeed. The lack of bookstores, however, as well as people who read, is discouraging to she who is looking to be discouraged (yes, that is me). If I am not looking to be discouraged I would go to the one bookstore I know of and snatch up some extra copies of some Victorian novel (which I know they have in abundance) and start passing them out. Or I would consider just sending out an email to my fellow employees and seeing who’s interested…yes, maybe that’s the way to get a diverse group of people together. Anything to break the monotony that numbs me into laziness.
Does this mean I have, myself, grown boring and redundant? I hope not and, oh dear, must do something soon! My mother suggested I start a book club. This idea is sound, very sound, indeed. The lack of bookstores, however, as well as people who read, is discouraging to she who is looking to be discouraged (yes, that is me). If I am not looking to be discouraged I would go to the one bookstore I know of and snatch up some extra copies of some Victorian novel (which I know they have in abundance) and start passing them out. Or I would consider just sending out an email to my fellow employees and seeing who’s interested…yes, maybe that’s the way to get a diverse group of people together. Anything to break the monotony that numbs me into laziness.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Normal
What is normal?
I always thought it was an insult. I thought it meant boring, uninteresting, bland. If a person was "normal" then they have a "normal" job, a "normal" life trajectory, etc.
When I first moved to Germany, I had a friend I respected very much for being who she was. One day, she said to me, as we were discussing life and more philosophical matters, "Ich bin ein normaler Mensch." She just stated it with some consigned feeling of acceptance and even contentment or pride...pride in simply knowing what she was. I remember thinking that I was shocked that she said it with such apparent apathy. I thought, perhaps it means something different in German.
But, no. I means that she thinks she is just simply a "normal person". And that's fine and good.
I always avoided consigning myself to any category, trying to avoid limiting my actions, my thoughts, dreams, potential for anything. However, I start to wonder if maybe life would be easier (and happier) if I just accepted a few "facts" or details that seem to stick hard and fast to me.
I also have a "problem" with wanting to be many things (thus, the avoidance of category placement) and sometimes it is a psychological strain to simply keep trying or thinking in a way that brings me into some discovered self or brings me to maintain how special or interesting I may be.
I am tired.
That's another topic, but the topic of being "normal" is what I want to think about.
I want to concentrate for longer than 5 minutes on it. And I was able to do that while running yesterday (an hour in the forest).
As Deleuze states, we are always in the process of "becoming", of becoming woman, white, heterosexual, middle class. But, then we also have a collision with other knowledge, other ways of "being" and "becoming" that challenge us. Other philosophers (cited so often in my area of study) go on to talk about performing and performativity.
Where does performing begin and "real" activity, some might say, "honest" activity or truth begin?
My problem is that I believe in these philosophies. I believe that we all perform most of the time; We all have "situated" knowledge that is our capsule that is our source of education or indoctrination, or our "becoming"...
How can the two be thought of for me?
I want to always "become" - it's not about "development" or progress. It's experience and challenge.
Perhaps, that is "normal".
I always thought it was an insult. I thought it meant boring, uninteresting, bland. If a person was "normal" then they have a "normal" job, a "normal" life trajectory, etc.
When I first moved to Germany, I had a friend I respected very much for being who she was. One day, she said to me, as we were discussing life and more philosophical matters, "Ich bin ein normaler Mensch." She just stated it with some consigned feeling of acceptance and even contentment or pride...pride in simply knowing what she was. I remember thinking that I was shocked that she said it with such apparent apathy. I thought, perhaps it means something different in German.
But, no. I means that she thinks she is just simply a "normal person". And that's fine and good.
I always avoided consigning myself to any category, trying to avoid limiting my actions, my thoughts, dreams, potential for anything. However, I start to wonder if maybe life would be easier (and happier) if I just accepted a few "facts" or details that seem to stick hard and fast to me.
I also have a "problem" with wanting to be many things (thus, the avoidance of category placement) and sometimes it is a psychological strain to simply keep trying or thinking in a way that brings me into some discovered self or brings me to maintain how special or interesting I may be.
I am tired.
That's another topic, but the topic of being "normal" is what I want to think about.
I want to concentrate for longer than 5 minutes on it. And I was able to do that while running yesterday (an hour in the forest).
As Deleuze states, we are always in the process of "becoming", of becoming woman, white, heterosexual, middle class. But, then we also have a collision with other knowledge, other ways of "being" and "becoming" that challenge us. Other philosophers (cited so often in my area of study) go on to talk about performing and performativity.
Where does performing begin and "real" activity, some might say, "honest" activity or truth begin?
My problem is that I believe in these philosophies. I believe that we all perform most of the time; We all have "situated" knowledge that is our capsule that is our source of education or indoctrination, or our "becoming"...
How can the two be thought of for me?
I want to always "become" - it's not about "development" or progress. It's experience and challenge.
Perhaps, that is "normal".
Monday, May 16, 2011
Two Sides of the Same Coin
One thing that used to vex me growing up was this problem of fitting into a larger society. I was growing up in a conservative, Biblebelt area of the U.S. and it seemed that the only three paths I was introduced to were bogus: Beauty pageant; The path of false fundamentalist religion; or the outcast "Freak". It was a quick study: No, no and, "fine, if I must." I didn't want to fit into any box but I recognized that the path I wanted to take fit only one of those which was the "Freak" category reserved for artists, gays, or otherwise moody individualists. We were the precursors to the "Emo" kids of today except we were lonelier and more isolated but we preferred that to the company of the pagaentess or the Jesusfreak.
The reason I bring this up is because there is a population of us ladies who some men (and women) like to characterize as "masculine" women (of course the inverse exists for men). I've had people characterize me in this way since I was a teenager and I've always eventually embraced it. In the beginning I worried about it because I wasn't sure what that meant for (you guessed it) my HAPPINESS in life.
Why did people call me "masculine" or "manly"? Good question! I think it was because of some very basic personality traits: Self-confidence coupled with the unwillingness to give ground to others (particularly men); Minimal interest in fashion, make-up and other wastes of time and money; Just plain not-giving-a-shit about others' opinions or so-called accepted ways of behaving; Not seeking approval; the list could go on but those are some basic ones. Oh, and the ever obnoxious one: Having an f-ing strong opinion on something and being able to argue it. And I guess this was particularly frustrating for some people because I look very feminine and am what is known as "pretty" (slim-ish, long hair, delicate and symmetrical features). Oh! What a disappointment to past hopeful suitors I was!!
At the root of this blog is the question of happiness and what makes us happy. I want to underscore that one major indicator of happiness is the freedom to make one's own choices. Thankfully, as a female born into a certain position in a certain country with certain role models and breeding, I have been able to take full advantage of having choices.
Once I googled "masculine women" and I got all this trash about how women shouldn't be like men, play sports, take risks, oppose their parents or husband- essentially be un-pretty. All this draconian mumbo-jumbo that makes good bedfellows with Islamic Wahhabism in Saudi Arabia- except that it's in the U.S. pedaled by Southern Baptists. Now, I am for people having their spiritual beliefs but my heart goes out to women and men growing up in a society of mental midgets (however small) in the U.S. who will have their happiness cut off (er, circumcised) even before they know it exists. I was smart when I was a teenager- I knew I would get out of a certain limiting society eventually and explore my freedom- and I just tolerated my situation and bided my time until I could leave and experience what I knew was out there.
Let's have a moment of silence to pray for those young people who will never know the happiness that comes from making choices: self-acceptance, self-confidence and trust, taking risks, and most importantly- making mistakes (with it's other side of the coin) experiencing successes! This is our destiny as fully actualized adults who can improve the world in all manner of big and small ways. Man-woman, black-white, gay-straight, animal-vegetable-mineral, all these multiplicities exist for a reason beyond pure science: To challenge us. For those who want to take away the challenge and belittle the richness of difference- you can disagree but get out of my way!
The reason I bring this up is because there is a population of us ladies who some men (and women) like to characterize as "masculine" women (of course the inverse exists for men). I've had people characterize me in this way since I was a teenager and I've always eventually embraced it. In the beginning I worried about it because I wasn't sure what that meant for (you guessed it) my HAPPINESS in life.
Why did people call me "masculine" or "manly"? Good question! I think it was because of some very basic personality traits: Self-confidence coupled with the unwillingness to give ground to others (particularly men); Minimal interest in fashion, make-up and other wastes of time and money; Just plain not-giving-a-shit about others' opinions or so-called accepted ways of behaving; Not seeking approval; the list could go on but those are some basic ones. Oh, and the ever obnoxious one: Having an f-ing strong opinion on something and being able to argue it. And I guess this was particularly frustrating for some people because I look very feminine and am what is known as "pretty" (slim-ish, long hair, delicate and symmetrical features). Oh! What a disappointment to past hopeful suitors I was!!
At the root of this blog is the question of happiness and what makes us happy. I want to underscore that one major indicator of happiness is the freedom to make one's own choices. Thankfully, as a female born into a certain position in a certain country with certain role models and breeding, I have been able to take full advantage of having choices.
Once I googled "masculine women" and I got all this trash about how women shouldn't be like men, play sports, take risks, oppose their parents or husband- essentially be un-pretty. All this draconian mumbo-jumbo that makes good bedfellows with Islamic Wahhabism in Saudi Arabia- except that it's in the U.S. pedaled by Southern Baptists. Now, I am for people having their spiritual beliefs but my heart goes out to women and men growing up in a society of mental midgets (however small) in the U.S. who will have their happiness cut off (er, circumcised) even before they know it exists. I was smart when I was a teenager- I knew I would get out of a certain limiting society eventually and explore my freedom- and I just tolerated my situation and bided my time until I could leave and experience what I knew was out there.
Let's have a moment of silence to pray for those young people who will never know the happiness that comes from making choices: self-acceptance, self-confidence and trust, taking risks, and most importantly- making mistakes (with it's other side of the coin) experiencing successes! This is our destiny as fully actualized adults who can improve the world in all manner of big and small ways. Man-woman, black-white, gay-straight, animal-vegetable-mineral, all these multiplicities exist for a reason beyond pure science: To challenge us. For those who want to take away the challenge and belittle the richness of difference- you can disagree but get out of my way!
Friday, May 13, 2011
COME FROM WITHIN
Pursuit of Happiness in Remembrance--Diary from June 2002
"Granddad takes his place up there with Dad."
"The last father who will never meet another man I love."
"I still think of death at happening 6 years ago, not yesterday"
"Big houses with widows"
"I believe that I will lose all I am in touch with now -- the landscape of Tennessee and my mother--"
And now...
What's this block? Living 'under his roof', that's my state. My man is like my father. I don't care what he says, I feel it.
I FEEL IT. It is my own block and what's the remedy (right now, will I milk it for all the melancholy it's worth?)
He isn't here... but he fixed this pen I write with.
I thought today about sitting with my father while he was trying to teach me maths.
I was so intimidated in his presence, his expectations-- didn't want to let him down...wanted to show him I could do the math.
But, when I couldn't, I couldn't just TELL him. I just sat there silent tears would stream down my face and I would feel ashamed on several levels still intelligible to me today.
I would feel ashamed, panicked that I couldn't speak/explain/I wasn't encouraged to...
something desperate about that dynamic -- so desparate I was...
Vater/Tochter
Am I really forever searching for that???"!
It's NOT that simple. I need to acknowledge and act on my own agency. That's happiness-- to do just that
I don't want to just be acted upon or encouraged or inspired or pushed into any one direction. I want it come from within.
What is this new phase now?...
"Granddad takes his place up there with Dad."
"The last father who will never meet another man I love."
"I still think of death at happening 6 years ago, not yesterday"
"Big houses with widows"
"I believe that I will lose all I am in touch with now -- the landscape of Tennessee and my mother--"
And now...
What's this block? Living 'under his roof', that's my state. My man is like my father. I don't care what he says, I feel it.
I FEEL IT. It is my own block and what's the remedy (right now, will I milk it for all the melancholy it's worth?)
He isn't here... but he fixed this pen I write with.
I thought today about sitting with my father while he was trying to teach me maths.
I was so intimidated in his presence, his expectations-- didn't want to let him down...wanted to show him I could do the math.
But, when I couldn't, I couldn't just TELL him. I just sat there silent tears would stream down my face and I would feel ashamed on several levels still intelligible to me today.
I would feel ashamed, panicked that I couldn't speak/explain/I wasn't encouraged to...
something desperate about that dynamic -- so desparate I was...
Vater/Tochter
Am I really forever searching for that???"!
It's NOT that simple. I need to acknowledge and act on my own agency. That's happiness-- to do just that
I don't want to just be acted upon or encouraged or inspired or pushed into any one direction. I want it come from within.
What is this new phase now?...
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