Krishna Drives My Chariot

What do you do when someone who is clearly not quite at one with reality attacks you?  Someone who may not be entirely off their rocker but who nonetheless seems teetering on that line somewhere between very odd and actually mentally ill.  Are the rules different from when someone completely sane has a go?

Possibly, possibly not.  By the end of this post you may reach a conclusion, I don't know.  I haven't, but in the end I decided it.......well, you'll see.

When someone who is from out of left field in their own reality attacks, then chances are it will come in a slightly bizarre form, and may require extra consideration in defense.  Issues of compassion also arise, but this takes us straight into the territory of 'who is right to judge', doesn't it?  I mean, is a person whose grip on consensus reality is demonstrably loose more worthy of our compassion than one who can be said to be rational?  Back when I was at school, there was this whole thing about 'not hitting a kid with glasses' - turning a supposed deficiency into some kind of moral defense.  By the way, when that kid eventually took one liberty too many, you can bet those glasses got slapped right off his shocked little head.

The more spiritual (and possibly more intelligent) martial philosophies teach us to be flexible in the face of a force against us - to deflect, bend, or absorb the energy of an opponent's strike rather than meet it with simple opposing force.  Newton's Third Law applies - all you would achieve is an expenditure of your own energy and cause a cessation of the opponent's force.  But instead, directing the opponent's energy and momentum to one's own advantage - think how a quick sidestep and extended foot sends the charging opponent sprawling -  is a far better use of energies.

Sometimes though in the realities of our imperfect social world, things aren't quite so neat.

I was attacked recently, in an online sort of way.  Complicating my emotional response was the fact that the attack hurt good friends of mine - was actually calculated to do so - and as a by-product hurt hundreds of other more-than-innocent bystanders.  It removed a whole bunch of people's ability to help each other in important and (not to be overly dramatic) sometimes life-changing ways.  An attack purely on my person I can deal with pretty easily and be clear about.  But when I and my friends are used by another, clearly unhinged person to do such hurt to others, simply getting out of the way will not do.

What happened, in brief, is this: friends and I set up a Facebook page called 'Blenderized Diet' as an adjunct to the popular and helpful free forum of the same name (blenderizeddiet.net) so that people could offer mutual support about all things to do with real food used for tubefeeding to one another.  It was an entirely not-for-profit thing.  4 days later a third party, let's call her Lesley Diane Marino for that is her name, had the page shut down, in a deceitful and malicious way.

She did this by unlawfully misusing a Facebook policy.  This policy is a self-protective mechanism for Facebook, whereby if a third party like Lesley alleges through use of a legal instrument that they are the legal owners of intellectual property - in this case use of the term 'Blenderized Diet' - and a page breaches their IP rights, then  Face book will take down that page and it can not be reinstated without the consent of the plaintiff or a legal ruling contravening their claim.  They take no account of evidence or simple logic - the like fact that the term was in print at least as far back as 1952, before Ms Marino was born, and is in such common usage it generates 43,600 google returns.  It was deceitful because she just did it without asking us first to stop using the term, and then would not confirm or deny she had done so until Facebook finally released her name to us as the complainant.  It was malicious because she only directed a complaint against us, not any of the other thousands of pages on Facebook using the term, nor against any other party.  You see, Lesley has a personal problem with me and one of my compatriots, from a similarly cowardly action she took in banning us from what she considers 'her' forum a few months back.  Lesley claims to be protecting her 'business interests' btw, which can be barely said to exist, if they do at all.

But this is where we get into the unhinged territory.  Lesley may actually - despite reams of evidence to the contrary, despite hundreds of people contacting her directly with good reasons why she is wrong and should rescind her complaint, - may actually believe the words she wrote, that she "invented Blenderized Diet after my daughter was born".  which was in 2001, btw.  Her actions subsequently do seem to my not-professionally-trained eye to be those of someone with both a grudge and a very tenuous grip on consensus reality.

But does that mean anything for how to respond and protect ourselves and the rights of others to help each other, to continue to use the very words they have used forever to represent the thing that's so important in their lives and for their health and that of their children and loved ones?

I couldn't quite decide.

When it first erupted, I was sure it was her, but there was no proof.  I was angry.  I do not like anger so much, it makes my tummy hurt after a short while.  Plus, it's just not nice.  Yet I have always had the curse/blessing of a strong righteous streak.  Only one thing to do, I realised, as I watched my brain start to over-analyze my response - let Krishna drive my chariot.

For those of you unfamiliar with the term, it comes from the Mahabharata, an epic poem of some 18 volumes or so that forms sort of the creation stories of the Hindu pantheon.  A single chapter from one of those volumes, the Bhagavad-Vita, forms the basis of scripture of the Hare-Krisna movement.  The whole Mahabharata is frankly a rocking good tale.  The Bhagavad-Gita is essentially a conversation between Krishna, a sort of immortal avatar of the forces of love and 'goodness' and a warrior monk type called Arjuna.

To set the scene:  There are goodies and baddies.  Arjuna the archer, the invincible warrior, is with the goodies.  The baddies have turned up with a massive army to do bad things to the goodies and all of the people.  Arjuna is torn.  Here it is in 30 seconds:

Krishna: Fight them and win. Just Do It.
Arjuna: Dislike.  Fighting kills and life is sacred etc etc, so shut up.
Krishna: Suck it up.  You are a good character, born invincible, and they will do bad stuff.  You must act. HTFU and do it.
Arjuna: OK then, because you are like, wise and stuff, but only if you drive the chariot so your radiant spirituality blasts my mind clean of its over-analysis and lets me see the spiritual purpose of doing bad shit like killing as a natural and good thing.  Dude.
Krishna: Hop on board, here's that never-run-out sack of arrows I promised.  There will be blood.  They'll write a book about this day, you'll see.

So I just surrendered to what I hoped was my higher nature and let it be an abstract. Let Lesley no longer be the bitchcowmollslagbushpig I had unkindly and judgementally cast her as (old skool tribal hardwiring for demonising an enemy to get aroused for physical combat and danger, you see) and let it be an action by someone without character except as a strategic fact to be considered, and acted from there.

I can tell you, it made for interesting viewing.  I got to see my friends' reactions in a slightly more dispassionate way, which helped me feel less hurt on their behalf.  I saw and helped marshall the responses of quite literally hundreds of folks all arrayed on 'our' side against this outrage.  I allowed a natural righteous anger to flow out, rather than occlude my view or propel my hand too hard.  I recalled how, as a young male testing my virility and so forth that excess anger would always be my undoing in a fight, yet a steely resolve simply to prevail would get the job done.  Counterintuitive, it seemed, at the time.

This all reminded me how there's a part of me that really does quite like a good fight, and much as my spiritually seeking self might find that backwards and needless it is there, and needs to be honoured.  Good thing too, when and if the need arises.

What I had to do to be effective was to let go of the righteousness and just act.  Trust that my actions would lead to 'right' outcomes.  And that's harder to do than it sounds, when you're someone who has made a great career on the moral high ground.  It's harder to hit the targets on the low ground from up there, and sometimes it seems they do need to get hit.  One must remember that as we are all blood, occasionally we must spill and wade in it.  Without the righteousness my compassion was more easily able to return, even as I took harsh and determined action to corral and disempower the destructive wrongdoer.  I feel for her, just as I feel for my friends and all those who have been affected.  Yes, there is a sadness.  Yes, there is a certain elation in the moments of battle enjoined.  It's all very real.

It is all turning out well, in ways I would not have predicted.  We may not yet have seen the back of Ms Marino's attempts to despoil the good works and names of others, as she seems not dissuaded by the clear evidence that every time she tries it, she ruins her name and face all the more.  This is her karma, perhaps.  The more I stay free of any surety in that judgement, the more I stay with dharma, and go as Arjuna.

When you just act, not thinking about whether it's right or not, with a mind as close to Zero as can be, I feel that the room for the 'right' things is there - it allows what's needed to happen.  You feel free of worry.  You do in fact feel the thrum of a certain spiritual invincibility in your veins, without it being an ego or a competitive  thing.

Perhaps it's what Spike Milligan was alluding to when he said:

"We don't have a plan, so nothing can go wrong".

Doug Anthony Allstars once did a song called (I think) Krishna Drives My Chariot.  I couldn't find it.  Please enjoy this instead.  Paul McDermott is one of my favouritest singers of all time.  Seriously.  And this is a great song.
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How far, how fast we travel.

It's been said that the whole blogging phenomenon is essentially a mass exposition of narcissism.  I can see that point of view, as I can see the whole modern consumerist western edifice of society as driven by just that very narcissistic impulse.  To love ourselves into a sense of safety and security that our too-slowly-evolving hunter-gatherer headwiring does not allow, perhaps.  More personally, I acknowledge my sometime delight in seeing my expression of myself here in the mirrored surface of the online pond, shining back at me with the assurance that as I can see evidence of myself there, I must be - as I think I am.

Of course, that is but one part of my own motivations for engagement online, with the social aspects more and more fulfilled of late by work for the real-food-for-tubeys cause and the countertextual plays of wittery, blathery and genuinely meaningful engagement through Facebook and the like.  Which is why I'm not blogging as much - well, partly.  But I've had cause to re-read an old and quite personal post here, and what's touched me the most is not how different a person I feel to that person who wrote it (in his then-narcissism, if you will), because I feel really used to changing now: Rather what struck me was just how recently I wrote it.

I mentioned just a little while ago that I've got two book writing projects going on right now.  As part of that I'm writing a piece including stuff about what it was like for me to get my feeding tube.  I was merrily tapping away at the keyboard when I remembered - "I did this a while back".....and if you haven't read the story I'd encourage you to read it before going on (I'll wait for you) , it's just HERE.

It was written and posted on the 27th of July 2010.  Now if you're in your twenties, that was probably, like, before last Christmas which was ages ago.  If you're in your thirties (or if you have a home-gestated child) you can probably already appreciate how stuff that happened less than 9 months ago can seem like yesterday and forever ago at the same time.  I'm 41, and if you're much older than that you might still smile wryly and indulgently at how young that is too.

So yes, I am used to changing as a person now, I seem to be doing a lot of it.  Or am I?  Has it always been this way and only now that time seems to be speeding faster and faster do I actually notice a rate of change as we go along?  I'm not sure.  The Doppler effect is definitely more pronounced.

But I remember that feeling, being that guy who suddenly got that realisation, and if you'd have asked me earlier today about my feelings of relative acceptance of my illness and near-certainly soonish demise I'd have told you that I'd have come to that point "quite a long time ago now, really."

The Doppler effect - where waveforms like light and sound seem to compress as they rush at you but elongate as they fall behind, like the change in pitch of the ambulance siren as it powers on quickly into someone's destiny story.  Doppler seems to act in memory too. It makes me feel like the past is further and further away, and the future much trickier to predict than ever before:  Leaving me increasingly motivated to specialize in the now.

Do you suppose that's what they mean when they talk about the wisdom one gains in aging?  Is it simply that your ability to still be one with your ill-remembered past and naively-imagined future diminishes, leaving you standing all the more clearly reflected as yourself in the still mirror of the quiet moment?  Or was I also right back then, that it's often the agency of tipping points like the stress and compulsion to accept what's needed right now for survival (or die) regardless of how it might change you that root you more firmly in your middle place?

One other thing I've noticed though - although I ask a whole lot more questions, my need to find the answers is slowly fading into a vague sort of interestedness rather than a desperate path of want - of search for self-identity.  And that's a relief.

This is also a relief.

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TFTD - how many are not really here?

Today's Thought For The Day is brought to you by the letter D and the number 'lots and lots'.  D is for drugs.  Those who have been following my story of late would know that I've had occasion to sample quite a variety of drugs for different purposes, but the ones I'm thinking about right now are the ones that definitely alter one's mood.  I do have pain, true, and to be kind to myself decided some time back to dispense with my knee-jerk anti-meds-wherever-possible reaction and allow myself to be in less, or perhaps even no pain.

Paracetamol doesn't do it, and neither does ibuprofen.  Not that I'd ever take ibuprofen for more than a day anyway.  I can't believe it's still legal.  So the next step up is the opiates and opioids, and after much trial and error I settled into a reasonable regime.  Reasonable in that once I got used to the side-effects, I was perfectly functional whilst being in little pain for most of the time.  I could supplement with extra, other drugs if needs be for 'breakthrough' pain (wonderful terminology they use, isn't it?).

But that's the thing, you have to get used to it. And there are two ways you can go with that.  Because your perception of the world subtly but undeniably alters, you can either learn to work your mind around the drug's effects and back to a 'clearer' pre-drug state (much like developing resistance) or just give in to the stone and go zombie.  It's nice to know that you can always choose the latter state for a holiday anyway.

I have a slow-drip regime, with a transdermal patch doing the heavy lifting analgesia-wise, so it's a little different from the up/down/sideways cycle of oral drugs, but the experience has made me wonder - given the huge amount of prescriptions written for these sorts of drugs every day in Australia - indeed in the developed world - what percentage of people we see in the supermarket are off their dials on painkillers?  I'm thinking lots.  Let's say that as 1/3 of the population suffers back pain at some point in their adult lives, and they have that 1/3 of the time, then 1/9 of the people have dodgy backs at any given moment.  There's more than 10% right there.

Imagine this.  Stand still in your local shopping mall.  See the people all about you milling around, and notice that they're all getting slower, and slower, until they're barely moving, like they're in treacle, and they almost, but not quite, completely stop.  Now, place a little yellow light above the head of 1 in 5 people.  I reckon that's the amount of folks with some painkillers in them affecting their mood somewhat.  Now look around again.  1 in 8 people are on antidepressants at any given time, so give them a light too.  Now do another 10% for those using prescription and other drugs illegally.  Don't forget to do just under a quarter of all the kids on ADHD meds and more than 3 quarters of anyone over 65.  Now do 5% for the functional alcoholics.  Add another 5% for the undiagnosed or untreated seriously mentally ill.  Give yourself a light if you need one.  Getting pretty yellow in here, isn't it?

Is it any wonder that advertising is so effective, when so many people are not the prime determiner of their own brain chemistry?

OK, you can let them all go now, not forgetting to thank them and give them a little nod and bow of love and kindness.

Zombies don't need to eat our brains, they're eating their own.

Reset.

B 2000 16.1HH

By Zabeel - Assertive Lass (Zeditave)

Reset, in another sense, is what I'm going through right now.  If I were a thoroughbred horse, I wouldn't be a Reset, or probably any sort of Zabeel progeny anyway.  I'm more your Shogun Lodge.  I always loved that horse, for some strange reason.

Anyway, horses aside (except in my channelling of the Horse Ancestors on my little quest right now) I expect I'll be offline for a wee moment as of.....now.  I have to go with my gut here and listen to the theme song playing in the background, dance to this tune, and go through it.  Time for another chrysalis moment then.

That's a thing I love about respite.  I sort of 'save up' some of the more intense psychic/spiritual/energetic stuff that needs doing for these respite weeks, as I know I will be relatively alone and free of ordinary day-to-day responsibility.  I can be as 'crazy' (free) in my head and heart as I need to be without the distractions of dogs who love games, cats who lie on computer keyboards, gardens who like water, and of course wives who tantalise with their friendly charms.  The other thing that is part of my domestic reality these days though is The Social Online World.  It's good, it's educative and illustrative of oneself in a similar way to having F2F conversations used to be back in the days when they could happen, but still......

Really this is just a post about nothing because I cannot say what is about to take place, except that from the outside it might well look like a personality reset or renovation and/or replacement of sorts.  It has the last few times, for a while afterwards at least.  Speaking of at least, at least I'm getting better at recognizing the signs earlier and getting braver about letting myself fall over into it earlier too, rather than waiting for the external pressures of my acting out and manifesting unconsciously to push me off this cliff again.  I'll certainly be making more sense thereafter also - fear not.

So this post is also to say sorry to anyone I've abraded the last few days.  Oops, yes, sorry.  If I said something that rankled, well, I probably do mean it, but probably not in the way it seems.  Tact and patience with language go awol at times like these, shucking the husk of social nicety that is the very thing we usually use to convey our genuine compassion whilst expressing a different viewpoint from our interlocutors'.

Also, lastly, just letting y'all know I'm not being rude if I choose not to 'like'your status on FB or respond quickly to your email.  I might, or might not, can't say.

Right, so, see you on the other side!  In the words of Sandman; "I choose to start this story..........now"

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TFTD - DFTD, Belief , Superstition.

Here's one of those Thoughts For The Day.  Well, a thought I had anyway.

Devil Facial Tumour Disease is a nasty, heartbreaking, horrible thing.  For those who don't know, it is a disease about which not enough is known.  If affects Tasmanian Devils, causing terrible facial tumours.  It is spread by biting (which they just do ALL the time naturally to each other) and it as always fatal.  90% of the population is already dead or infected - doomed.  I'm not going to show you a picture of the effects, because it really isn't necessary.  And it is, as I said, heartbreaking.

This one is happy and fine.  Really, they're just like that.

So, some of you may know that for a spell in my past I was part of an enterprise researching, manufacturing and marketing homoeopathic products to treat plant diseases, or more correctly soil and plant problems.  It ended badly, but we don't need to go in to that right now.  But for sure, you're aware of the basic principles and controversies surrounding homoeopathy, yes?  No?

A quick primer, just to be sure then.  Homoeopathy as first devised by a dude called Samuel Hahnemann is a form of medicine that proposes that 'like can cure like'.  That what can cause a disease can also cure a disease.  Hahnemann followed a hypothesis of potentisation, whereby substances from nature (more on this in a minute) are finely divided (ground up) and diluted minutely.  Imagine putting a drop of substance 'Z' into a litre of water, shaking it up a lot, taking a drop from that litre, putting it into another litre, and repeating this process many times.  This is essentially how you create what is called a homoeopathic 'remedy'.  The more diluted, the higher the 'potency' is said to be.  So an example of this 'like cures like' would be that a substance that causes vomiting may, when given at the correct dosage to someone who has chronic vomitous problems, cure them, very broadly put.  An important point to keep in mind is that Hahnemann 'proved' his remedies by causing illnesses in his students by giving them potentised doses of these remedies.  The remedies supposedly can cause sickness, when used outside of a correct diagnosis.  Hahnemann's methods of diagnosis we won't go into here  that's a whole encyclopaedic subject on its own.

Of course, since such remedies cannot really be scientifically measured as even existing, they are so diluted, there is no way to prove a method of action.  Nor it seems can Hahnemann's exhaustive batteries of tests on his legions of students and patients be replicated to produce his stated results; and as a result modern science staunchly rejects homoeopathy as basically akin to voodoo.  Makes a mint in the pharmacy though, doesn't it?

So, the remedies are derived from nature.  Hahnemann used parts of plants mainly, but also minerals and later on he began to experiment with the concept of nosodes.
(Disclaimer: all this homoeopathic knowledge stuff is coming from my frail, flawed, and very human memory alone - so there may be factual errors - just sayin').
So, yes, nosodes.  These are where a remedy is made from the expression of an illness itself - for example a rabies remedy is made from the saliva of a rabid dog.  The original vaccines, in a way.  Very targeted things then, you'd think.  In our venture back then  we used calcined snails (dried, burned and ground) in an attempt to create a snail-repellent effect.  There were, let's say, varied results.

Pretty much anyone who's ever heard of or thought about homoeopathy has made their own call on whether it's a mysterious and inexplicable yet valid and effective form of medicine, or a load of utter codswallop.  Belief, or superstition, if you will.

So there I was, seeing the poor lumpy face of a Tassie Devil on the TV ad appealing for research fund donations, and suddenly I wondered what would happen if you made a nosode of the tumour expressions, and set about treating the entire population?  Of course, to treat the whole population, the very best and simplest way to ensure coverage would be just to use a crop-duster - spray all of Tasmania's forests by air.  Simple!  But I wasn't wondering what would happen to the Devils - I have no idea.  And I'm not suggesting it seriously either.  But let's imagine some eccentric wealthy individual decided as a public service to undertake this task for the good of all mankind, at no cost to the taxpayer!  I'm wondering what the humans would do with such an idea.

Let's revisit our two camps then.  Those who are believers in homoeopathy and its effects would understandably be concerned about possible negative effects on themselves, or perhaps other animals or entities in the ecosphere, but of course that would be ameliorated (as is homoeopathic lore) by having available a different dosage of said remedy to 'antidote' anyone thusly affected.  So, no problem, and the Devil Facial Tumour Disease could marvellously and miraculously be eradicated forever!  The pooh-poohers of course would just laugh.  Wouldn't they?

I think perhaps not.  I'm willing to bet that there would be a substantial proportion of the folk who firmly believe that homoeopathy is bunkum as it a) cannot be scientifically even shown to exist and b) cannot be reliably proven to even have any effect on subjects beyond the placebo effect would also feel really quite a bit squirmy about the prospect of being lightly sprinkled with a little bit of aerosolized 'special water'.  I think there'd be a big push back, along the lines of not being able to prove there would be no side effects (from what science assures them is simply water).

So, in the end it would not be allowed to happen because of the superstitions of those who dismiss such rubbish as superstition.  Or am I wrong?  Golly gee, I'd like to see that tried.

Mama Devil says "Don't y'all make me open this can o' whoop-ass!"

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TFTD - What's going on with me?

OK, well, long time, again, no?

So I thought it was about time to let y'all know what it is that's really been going on behind the scenes (as it were) with this little ol' being of mine.  Because it's true, I've been keeping something back.

Now it's nothing bad, it's nothing major really, but a few have been poking about and I have let a few things slip too, so in the interests of full disclosure I'm going to out myself here.

I'm writing two books.  Well, technically a book and a half.  But I can't tell you much more than that I'm afraid, especially about the half-a-book.  Why?  Because, as the 'half' bit implies, I'm co-authoring this with someone else, and we have a sort of commercial-in-confidence thing going on, is all.  BUT, if all goes to plan (yeah, like that happens a lot in life :-) then you'll hear about it in the latter part of this year sometime.  And the synergy is good, the timing is right, the outcome will very likely be.....rather better than ordinary.

The process of starting that project has sort of got me inspired a bit more writing-wise, as it's true that historically I have always been a bit more of an interpreter and disseminator of information than a raw creator and this has given me an 'outside' influence vis-a-vis subject matter.  I was always better at school when asked to write an essay on a certain subject than submit a few hundred words of 'creative writing'.  Although the latter sometimes worked out pretty OK too.  So what happened next sort of took me by surprise.

I started having little flashes of what all these thoughts as expressed here in this blog, and lately in short form on Facebook (etc) are all circling around - the central theme, or conundrum, or quandary perhaps, that I find myself returning to over and over.  And I realised that it wasn't the migration over to FB and short-form expressive release that was dampening my blogging impetus so much, as a combination of two things - simple demotivation from not really feeling connected or 'right' in my longer expression, and secondly - that what is 'right' does not fit the blogging format.  It's large, it needs to be presented whole and not eked out as it dribbles and drains from the pores of my mind - it's a book in gestation.

Yes, demotivation.  In truth, and it's related in a weird way to the subject matter of said pending tome, there was another wee niggle keeping me from seeing or accepting the challenge laying before me.  Back over a year ago, I forget exactly when, my journey was passing through a dark and fairly helpless phase and I sought out some 'professional' assistance with matters of the head.  I can't remember her exact qualificatory title, but I think she was a clinical psychologist.  Anyway, she was a great find, specializing mainly in cancer patients, the terminally ill, and the family and friends thereof.  One of those sorts who never gives or offers advice, just facilitates your talking and occasionally rephrases what you've said to check for understanding and hold up a mirror for you.

One of the things she said to me by way of summation as I discussed my issues with demotivating feelings of depression and "not knowing how to proceed with life" was this: She asked me if what I was saying was that "I was afraid to start anything new because I was afraid I might not be able to finish it."  Well, er, yes, actually, that's hitting my head on the nail right there.  And it seems I've been past that for quite some time now really, but hadn't seen this thing taking it's shape until very recently.

I wonder if we'll see it finished?

The very astute among you may have already noticed I have told you absolutely nothing about the book itself. Well spotted, you.  And I'm not going to be leaking much either, so please not to be holding your breath OK?  What I can tell you right now is as follows:

To the extent that anything we experience in life and especially anything we attempt to communicate in words can be said to exist in an objective view, then this will be  a work of non-fiction.  To the extent that everything we ever see or think or say is the product of our very highly programmed, narrowly tuned and selective consciousnesses, it will be a work of fiction.  There's a little clue.

I suppose it's sort of a philosophy thing, a socio-historical thing, a human evolutionary thing.....the expression of where my life's learnings and questionings finds me at this point it time.  I can tell you it will be extremely un-PC and controversial in some of the views I espouse and hopefully rather confronting in the way it raises questions. (See how I'm dissociating it already as an 'it'?  It's ALIVE!!bwahahahahaha...).  I have a working title, but sorry, it's just too cute to share, and I don't want to spoil the fun - in case I end up not using it.

So.  These two projects are of equal importance to me, and as well I have my allegiance to co-administrating the blenderizeddiet.net site and also my other blogsite for the use and benefit of my fellow tubies and their lovers and carers.  Should keep me out of mischief for a bit then.

As a side-benefit, it might happen that the process of writing each day (I'm told that's what 'writers do') might prove to be self-generative of spin-off creativity that wants outing and doesn't fit either project so might end up here as the occasional TFTD - Thought For The Day.

Well, here I go!  Thanks.  Now you know.

Ownership

Funny what it takes for some people to get perspective.  To see themselves.

Funny how hard we can resist seeing ourselves in a clearer light, sometimes.

It's often been posited that we know who we are in large part by our reflection in the world.  That is, by how we see our effect on the world - and in a world increasingly defined economically, by who wields how much of that 'power', there's a great tendency to define ourselves by what we own.  Or don't.

Right now I'm watching yet another world-record natural disaster unfold, one f a seemingly endless series of record weather events.  I've just been through a little one myself, the strongest summer storm winds in my area in living memory, made worse by a century's so-called agriculture and the massive dust cloud that ensued.  As I keep half an eye on the evacuations in North Queensland ahead of Cyclone Yasi, and hear stories of people's different reactions, I am struck again by how powerful the urge is to defend property in some people - to BE at one with their homes, cars, whatever......to deny the brutal reality that anyone who gets caught in the eye of this beast in any structure less than a Category 5-rated building will very possibly die.  Category 5 means 'no buildings left standing'.

Then at the last minute - actually after the last minute, because it's too late to outrun her now - people can have a little Moment Of Perfect Clarity.  Like the young family in Mission Beach who were determined to 'ride it out' but then thought better of it, and posted on a weather forum that they were now resigned to losing their house and were taking refuge in an underground carpark.  Like, the worst place to be with a 10 metre storm surge.  Fortunately, the weather nerds on the forum contacted local emergency services who went and found them, and got them out.

Or we want to own people, or groups of people, to feel a sense of identity through a position of power over others, however benevolent our intentions are.  Families are a good example.  Parents who live through the trials of seeing children grow and develop into their own people, and confuse protectiveness and love with ownership.  At extremes it can be outright slavery or high-pressure hot-housing to 'create' high-achievers which will reflect supposedly well upon the parents' skills, or genes, or something.  Those patriarchs and matriarchs acting out dictatorial fantasies.

Or we want to own information.  Everyone knows an office/playgroup/church/wherever gossip, the faux-confidant for whom the phrase "remember those who gossip with you will also gossip of you" was coined.  We want to own correctness, which is why we are so attached to our opinions.

This list could go on and on, casting every vestige and semblance of identity-creating behaviour and thought into the frame of ownership.  Because that's exactly the relationship we have to the world, all too often.

Yet all it takes is the right magic moment; a few words, a single clear thought, but most often some tragic and sudden loss or pain, to wake us up from this fantasy of separation.  Even if we only awake for an instant.

The patriarch is confronted by the son who disobeys, threats ensue, "you will be no more my son!!" a bluff is called, and the world falls in.  Your house is blown to matchwood around you.  Your gossip undoes you. Or maybe, just maybe, someone with good intentions manages a way not to just call you on your bullshit, but to get through that armour of need, of desperate defense of normalcy and your identity status quo....to remind you that in fact, you are not you because of your money, your house, your claim to righteousness, or your adoration by some masses.  You are you despite all that crap, and that crap more often than not gets exactly in the way of being more you.

It's no coincidence that the phraseology often goes "to hold an opinion", or to "have" a point of view, and so on.  The possessive is used, as it is sneakily by inference when we "express" an opinion or more forcefully when we "profess" a faith.  Which is, after all, a claim to rightness, and another form of opinion.

Sadly, though, it seems that most of us still need most of the time to learn the ancient way.  By repeated painful choices.

Then thing is, once I started to feel like I had some sort of ongoing readership here, I feared wanting to own it.  Because, people, (and this in an opinion of mine, don't forget) the more you own *anything*, the more it owns you back.

I might have learned some lessons about this lately.  Through error, certainly, but also because when I look closely enough, or in a detached enough way, I see those about me act out the play and drama that could be, or used to be, my life and way of identity.  Thanks to those folks sharing their frailties with me, knowingly or otherwise.  There but for grace go I, and all of that.

I'm trying not to own so much, you see.  I would like to learn those lessons of losing oneself that death must inevitably bring, before being pushed to do so.  Why?  Because my life is all the sweeter for it.

Try some, yes?  It's home grown.

2011 - a challenge to Integrity?

So, here we are, digesting the knowledge that the information really does seem to want to be free.

2010 might prove to be the year of Trust No-One, as the whole time it seemed one revelation after another about the state of what we used to think of as our 'privacy'; and the secrecies and abuses of privacy practiced by governments and corporations were brought to light.  Maybe we found some new black and white for a moment or two there, before the inevitable greying of entropy and the chaos of life set in.  The contrasts we saw remained stark right to the end.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, I shall quote Julian Assange to illustrate:

"What are the differences between Mark Zuckerberg and me? I give private information on corporations to you for free, and I'm a villian.

Zuckerberg gives your private information to corporations for money and he's Man of the Year."

So at the end, we all got a nice fat dose of what we knew all along: those who control the mechanisms of society (to the extent that they are controlled) lie, hide, and don't play fair and they do it for their own gains. 


 "We now know what happens when we build institutions that are not transparent to our eyes even though they demand transparency from us. We now know that the net we depend upon can be yanked away from us if we anger those who control it. We now know there are those in control. We believed the net to be mere anarchy loosed upon the world - turns out it’s just another shopping mall." - Mark Pesce.

Many are now awake to just how much of what we once thought of as 'our' information is simply now let loose.  There are many who have risen in anger about all this.  Many will change the way they operate online at the very least to try and re-protect their personal life from scrutiny.  And there are those who will simply accept that this is a new reality and enjoy the good parts, adapt to the more irksome ones.  I think this year will see a massive rise in the use of all sorts of online tools and methods to re-privatise not just personal spaces, but protected group spaces too.

Still, the cat's out of the bag.  Someone can upload a picture of you and without even tagging your name to it The Machine may recognise you and tag the picture for you.  Another little data blip attached to your datalife doppelganger.  We've been feeding this shadow-self for a generation now, allowing ourselves to be tracked with our credit card purchases, our net surfing, our social networking and even our physical locations through our ever-present mobile devices.  And since these datasets are valuable to someone, because they tell a pretty good story about us all added up,  there has been an ironic twist added to the struggle of your information to free itself; the corporations to whom it has dollar meaning, and the governments to whom it has political purpose wish to liberate the data for their own use, and now those very institutions have lost control of it through the mechanisms and agents of we (the people) wishing to wrest the power back from them.

I started writing a post about privacy quite some time ago, and restarted again when US student Tyler Clementi killed himself.  You might remember, he briefly became a posthumous cause celebre for those railing against our new information tools' ability to facilitate the rapid spread of personal information.  In his case, this information was a webcam recording made (without his knowledge or consent) by a roommate of him having sex with another man in his dorm room, and posted on Facebook.  Tyler was not exactly openly gay, it seems, and in a sad irony he posted his last words on Facebook.  "Jumping off GW bridge.  Sorry."

We have never been able to legislate or dominate our citizenry sufficiently to ensure nice and proper behaviour.  Never been done, ever.  Yet now anyone with a net connection can say anything about anyone, reveal any information and imagery, and there's nothing we can do about it except hope no-one does OR- to not care.

Imagine if Tyler lived in a reality where coming out was OK, because obviously he didn't.  A reality even where 'coming out' was not a term we had a use for any more, because sexual preference was just not an issue for anyone.  Expand that thinking out, to a place where people just naturally 'did right' by one another, where there was no argument over creeds or rights,  and you've entered the heart one of John Lennon's greatest pieces - Imagine.

That might be a little way off yet, I think.  In the meantime, how to adapt?

There was much hue and cry in the UK when they started getting full-on with the whole CCTV thing, but then the powers-that-be  and Have Your Say Champions Of Justice rallied around the tired old cry of "if you've got nothing to hide then what is the problem?"

Well, um, exactly.  What if, right, we just behaved with integrity?  You know, told the truth?  Sure, I've been as guilty as anyone of selectivity and creativity with what is real for me throughout my life, but eventually properly worked out that it was a shitty way to live.  The explosion of online media has made it so easy to show only a part of yourself (or none, to be seemingly anonymous) or to present only a carefully-crafted version of who you are, and it's so tempting to do that.  As we used to say in NLP class "why be yourself when you could be someone really useful?"  I've tried to stay faithful to my stated aim of honesty here in this blog and otherwise in my life these last years.  It doesn't have to be full disclosure (after all, I have my honest commitments to care for others and protect their confidentialities and privacies) but it does require a certain willingness to be open about one's failings and weaknesses.

Of course, it's a rare person who sees themselves very clearly much of the time anyway, so we can only be honest about what we believe to be our truth at the time - and be honest when that changes.

Had Tyler Clementi had maybe just a bit more support from a friend, or a family member, he may have made some different choices.  Had his roommate been behaving with a little more empathy and compassion - which I believe we all feel but are not always honest with ourselves about - then things might have been different too.  I'm not here to judge in that way, but what seems clear to me is this:

•  Your information can be gotten out, and very likely will be.
•  Hiding is a choice, but requires virtual hermitage, and even then.....you have a past.
•  If you spend the time to get comfortable with being who you really are, publicly, and choose to try and behave well toward your fellow man, then when it all comes out - who cares?

It can probably only go one of two main ways, I reckon - a hive mind with massive homogeneity where new ideas flare up as storms in the zeitgeist and are quickly either subsumed or discarded - the Borg.  Or a consensus to agree to respect boundaries that others erect around themselves, should they choose to do so, for no-one will be able to enforce such a respect.  The first way to me has dangers of totalitarianism and too great a loss of individual liberty and creativity.  But might well work anyway.  The second way seems far more fulfilling, and more in line with how I see our spiritual and social evolution.  But without honesty, no-one wll be able to be a part of it.  

Can you see a different way that has a good ending?

Happy New Year all.

Someone died yesterday, and it was.....good.

For the last year or so, I've been following the story of a young woman, Andrea Clegg, from a distant country, as she's been waiting for a heart transplant.  Her blog site makes for great reading if you treat it as a story and start at the beginning, you can find it here:

http://stayingtruetomyheart.blogspot.com/

There's a certain kinship in us folks who have dangerous or life-limiting conditions going on, and with the whole Rise Of The Internet has come a greater ability for people to share and support one another.  I came across Andrea's story through my association on the Blenderized Diet forum, a place of great community knowledge and support for tube-fed people and their carers who want to use real food, because Andrea's sister-in-law Shannon is a member there, and has a tube-fed son Ashton (who, as an aside, has one of the mad-craziest smiles ever seen on the interwebs).  Shannon just popped a little post up one day about Andrea's story and new blog, and I started following.

I'll admit that there is a subtle and subterranean sense of ghoulishness involving yourself - even just as a witness - to someone in this boat.  You're watching a life-and-death thing here after all and by saying hello and giving your heartfelt wishes you're now invested somehow in the outcome.  There is a little of the car-wreck-watcher syndrome.  But that's not really what draws one in.

Andrea's suffered from such bad heart problems that for a long time now as well as an implanted defibrillator she's been tubed up to an LVAD, essentially a battery-in-a-backpack powered artificial heart, and came pretty close to death on multiple occasions along the journey.  It's trite to say, and these days it's almost completely expected to say, but Andrea is a rather special person, and so are the people around her.  That's why it's been a privilege to watch and why last night was so terrifying and elating all at once for me - just some guy in at the other end of a computer in a faraway land.

Andrea's a pretty small lady, meaning that many donor hearts simply wouldn't fit.  She knew that chances were she'd be waiting for a child's heart, just to add extra poignancy to the whole organ donor thing.  It's not like a heart is coming from a live donor now, is it.  This, some other factors, but mainly the woeful rate of organ donation in the US have all combined to make a lengthy wait.  She celebrated her first anniversary on the list not long ago.

There was a false alarm a few months ago, with a possible donor situation......oh well.  Never mind.

Last night (my time) she got the call, and the drill began.  Status updates were made on Facebook, posts were made on the BD list, the blog was updated, and all the many, many people that have been sharing this journey - family, friends and strangers alike - lobbed in their blessings, wishes, prayers and tears that all would go well, that the heart would be a match, that all would go well.....

To say Andrea is a brave woman is also trite.  Of course she is.  She carries on living as normally as possible despite having this amazing burden of uncertainty, advocating for organ donation, sharing her story with all who will listen to aid that cause, and never complains of her own ills publicly.  She has faced down unkind comments (can you believe it??) on news stories about her with grace and compassion, and has been it would seem in some ways a core of strength for all of her carers to draw from.  So saying Andrea's brave or courageous or gracious or simply awesome is redundant.  Because it's obvious.

What is less obvious at first glance though is the fortitude and sheer love of those around her, and this has been some of the greatest stuff to watch.  I mean, just imagine for a moment being her husband.  No really, just imagine it for a second.  Shaun; kudos to you.  That is all I have to say.  The sort of man that can make you quietly proud to be a man.  Props, fella.  Shannon, a tireless campaigner and fierce sort-of protector, an unexpected gift when you get yourself a new sister-in-law.  And all the innumerate family and close friends doing all their bits, pulling their little bits of weight, all in the same direction, towards a new heart for their loved one.

Maybe you had to be there, I dunno.

So anyway, yes, someone died yesterday.  And it turns out they were an organ donor, and all the right boxes were ticked.  It was late and I had yo go to bed still wondering if the heart was a match but when I got up and got online, well, there it was.  As I write Andrea has a new heart, beating inside her, doing its thing, and the doctors are completely happy with the way it all went - even the operation was shorter than usual.  It's early days of course, and I'm tipping she's going to be one SORE lady when she wakes up and for a while, but for now she's no longer dependent on wires and batteries and pumps and electric shock devices and what-have-you.

Look - a heartbeat.

All because someone had the heart - pun fully intended - and created or was lucky enough to have the family support to be an organ donor.  Their life has given not new life, but rather renewed life.  To Andrea, and to all the souls around her now weeping and throbbing with happiness and joy.  This amazing woman and all the people who have grown in ways the planet just needs more of have been given a stay, a prolonging of life on earth; and for this we all would best be grateful.

Who knows?  Yes, the thing that is almost never said is that of course this might not work, and Andrea may not make it through the recovery phase.  And if that happens, OK, life has its sadnesses too.  But even just taking all the time up until now, this moment, and all the good that has come from this journey for everyone involved and even those of us just able to barrack from the sidelines - hasn't it all been worth it?

So the question now remains:  if you are not a registered organ donor, why not?

And lastly Andrea?  Good luck.

Lunch at my place - check it out

OK, so I've posted it on the other blog because it's fairly topical for that audience, but I think you'll find it intriguing and enlightening also.  Plus, there's good music, and a cute ending.

Go HERE to see.