Wednesday, January 12, 2011
The hedonic treadmill, revisited
This article makes me think of this post. In a depressing sort of way, unfortunately.
trust and emotions and yeah.
Mark and I have been having an ongoing conversation about emotion. Mark says, emotion is the thing he places the most trust in, what he seeks out. When he first said this, I had a moment of total surprise. How could you place so much emphasis on emotion, such a transient thing? I, on the other hand, think that I spent the past couple of years running from emotion. Why? Because it can be scary, and big, and overwhelming. Also, negating emotions was my way of overcoming my teenage hypersensitivity. And negating emotion was my way of understanding that sometimes, the things we think and feel are ridiculous and totally detached from reality.
The problem though is when you throw out the baby with the bathwater. When you start thinking that anything you FEEL is somehow not true because it is in your mind. Which, as weird as it may sound, was sort of what I thought for a long time. Emotions were a scale, and I tipped completely in the other direction.
Now, I think it's time to straighten this out a bit.
The problem though is when you throw out the baby with the bathwater. When you start thinking that anything you FEEL is somehow not true because it is in your mind. Which, as weird as it may sound, was sort of what I thought for a long time. Emotions were a scale, and I tipped completely in the other direction.
Now, I think it's time to straighten this out a bit.
Cross your fingers
Cross Your Fingers (Laura Marling)
Since it is winter break, I have been listening to a lot of music and have gotten mildly obsessed with various songs as is my tendency, but recently this song has particularly entranced me.
The first time I listened to it I didn't even like it that much, but something made me listen to it a couple more times. Isn't that how these things always work? In life? In general?
I could go on about what I think the song means, but I would rather not, actually. How about, if you're reading, YOU tell ME what you think it means.
Yeah?
Since it is winter break, I have been listening to a lot of music and have gotten mildly obsessed with various songs as is my tendency, but recently this song has particularly entranced me.
The first time I listened to it I didn't even like it that much, but something made me listen to it a couple more times. Isn't that how these things always work? In life? In general?
I could go on about what I think the song means, but I would rather not, actually. How about, if you're reading, YOU tell ME what you think it means.
Yeah?
wanderlust
Mental space. Being a traveler if not physically.
This, I think, is what I really crave when I say I want to travel. Let me clarify. More than most things I want to travel and see the world and know it in its fullness, shadowy corners as well as colorful cityscapes and natural beauty. But I also want to know the different corners of my own mind, I want to make sure that I do not get stuck in the same mental loop... day in, day out, the same thought process, the same habit of semi-automatic thought patterns, over and over and over again.
I have been there, and I am not going back.
Hello world.
This, I think, is what I really crave when I say I want to travel. Let me clarify. More than most things I want to travel and see the world and know it in its fullness, shadowy corners as well as colorful cityscapes and natural beauty. But I also want to know the different corners of my own mind, I want to make sure that I do not get stuck in the same mental loop... day in, day out, the same thought process, the same habit of semi-automatic thought patterns, over and over and over again.
I have been there, and I am not going back.
Hello world.
On enlightenment, and why Walt Whitman is not creepy
"...I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the
beginning and the end,
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.
There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now,
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.
Trippers and askers surround me,
People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and
city I live in, or the nation,
The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old
and new,
My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues,
The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love,
The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss
or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations,
Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news,
the fitful events;
These come to me days and nights and go from me again,
But they are not the Me myself..."
-Song of Myself, Leaves of Grass
Rereading Whitman a few weeks ago, I couldn't help but think of one of my favorite thinkers of all time, Eckhart Tolle. For example:
"The mind is a superb instrument if used rightly. Used wrongly, however, it becomes very destructive. To put it more accurately, it is not so much that you use your mind wrongly -- you usually don't use it at all. It uses you. This is the disease. You believe that you are your mind. This is the delusion. The instrument has taken you over."
I'll admit it... when I first read the stuff this guy writes, I thought it was complete and total bullshit. Crazy talk that some ingenous con man had thought up to capitalize on some sort of emperor's-new-clothes phenomenon. I really couldn't have been more wrong, though. Once I really gave it a chance, his ideas made total sense and have, to a greater or lesser extent, been present in my mind every day since it finally "clicked." I've flipped through the pages of his books dozens of times, and every time I feel like I come away with something new. The more I read his stuff, the more I see what he says in the teachings of the world's prophets and great thinkers.
Because the truth is that each day is a gift and a blessing, and life can be so sweet if we just let it be that.
beginning and the end,
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.
There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now,
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.
Trippers and askers surround me,
People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and
city I live in, or the nation,
The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old
and new,
My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues,
The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love,
The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss
or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations,
Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news,
the fitful events;
These come to me days and nights and go from me again,
But they are not the Me myself..."
-Song of Myself, Leaves of Grass
Rereading Whitman a few weeks ago, I couldn't help but think of one of my favorite thinkers of all time, Eckhart Tolle. For example:
"The mind is a superb instrument if used rightly. Used wrongly, however, it becomes very destructive. To put it more accurately, it is not so much that you use your mind wrongly -- you usually don't use it at all. It uses you. This is the disease. You believe that you are your mind. This is the delusion. The instrument has taken you over."
I'll admit it... when I first read the stuff this guy writes, I thought it was complete and total bullshit. Crazy talk that some ingenous con man had thought up to capitalize on some sort of emperor's-new-clothes phenomenon. I really couldn't have been more wrong, though. Once I really gave it a chance, his ideas made total sense and have, to a greater or lesser extent, been present in my mind every day since it finally "clicked." I've flipped through the pages of his books dozens of times, and every time I feel like I come away with something new. The more I read his stuff, the more I see what he says in the teachings of the world's prophets and great thinkers.
Because the truth is that each day is a gift and a blessing, and life can be so sweet if we just let it be that.
an idea
hmm.
In my thesis research, I have been reading a lot about chaos and fractals and meaning in numbers and how math is the search for underlying patterns in everything
The idea is, what if we applied chaos theory to people? What if we understood individual human life as well as human history as something that is deeply formed by initial conditions?
And what if there ARE patterns in everything? What if everything in the world could be analyzed numerically, broken down into chunks and pieced apart to see the trends? Would that change the way we see the world, its beauty, our belief in God?
Am I overthinking this?
In my thesis research, I have been reading a lot about chaos and fractals and meaning in numbers and how math is the search for underlying patterns in everything
The idea is, what if we applied chaos theory to people? What if we understood individual human life as well as human history as something that is deeply formed by initial conditions?
And what if there ARE patterns in everything? What if everything in the world could be analyzed numerically, broken down into chunks and pieced apart to see the trends? Would that change the way we see the world, its beauty, our belief in God?
Am I overthinking this?
10 things in '10
2011 is now a whole 12 days underway, complete with its own (mild) snowstorm and dangerous amounts of procrastination, but it's still not too late to write about 2010. So, for today, these are some of the things I learned in 2010... though I'll be honest, some of this stuff dates back to 2009. Whoops.
Things I have learned:
(1) Meat is delicious and makes you feel strong and energetic. Yum. I'm sorry, all my animal-loving friends and relatives, but I was not cut out for vegetarianism, and cannot eat one more kidney bean... please pass the steak.
(2) Meditation does not have to be a seated or stationary activity. Actually, if you are twitchy like me, you'll probably gain much more clarity of mind by running around your neighborhood for a while. And I hate to say this, but sans music... I know. I know. Just try it, though.
(3) Fake it to make it... clichéd but true. If you act like you believe in yourself, pretty soon you will.
(4) Patience can bring amazing things. New philosophical approaches to life take weeks to institute, and relationships with family members take months to mend; don't think it's not happening just because the change isn't immediate.
(5) Don't ask friends for specific advice about relationships. Nobody knows the inner workings of a relationship unless they're in it, and well-intentioned advice is likely to mess with you.
(6) Cultural differences have the tendency of manifesting themselves at random and unexpected times. You may think you perfectly understand the context a person is coming from, but it still may catch you off guard.
(7) Sometimes you just gotta dance. 'Nuff said.
(8) If you really -- and I mean REALLY -- put yourself in somebody else's shoes, you can probably figure out why they do the shit they do.
(9) Big anti-social headphones are like God's gift to ADD students everywhere. Now, if only I could remember where I left mine two weeks ago.......
(10) Show love to the world, get love from the world. That simple.
Things I have learned:
(1) Meat is delicious and makes you feel strong and energetic. Yum. I'm sorry, all my animal-loving friends and relatives, but I was not cut out for vegetarianism, and cannot eat one more kidney bean... please pass the steak.
(2) Meditation does not have to be a seated or stationary activity. Actually, if you are twitchy like me, you'll probably gain much more clarity of mind by running around your neighborhood for a while. And I hate to say this, but sans music... I know. I know. Just try it, though.
(3) Fake it to make it... clichéd but true. If you act like you believe in yourself, pretty soon you will.
(4) Patience can bring amazing things. New philosophical approaches to life take weeks to institute, and relationships with family members take months to mend; don't think it's not happening just because the change isn't immediate.
(5) Don't ask friends for specific advice about relationships. Nobody knows the inner workings of a relationship unless they're in it, and well-intentioned advice is likely to mess with you.
(6) Cultural differences have the tendency of manifesting themselves at random and unexpected times. You may think you perfectly understand the context a person is coming from, but it still may catch you off guard.
(7) Sometimes you just gotta dance. 'Nuff said.
(8) If you really -- and I mean REALLY -- put yourself in somebody else's shoes, you can probably figure out why they do the shit they do.
(9) Big anti-social headphones are like God's gift to ADD students everywhere. Now, if only I could remember where I left mine two weeks ago.......
(10) Show love to the world, get love from the world. That simple.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
For Camilla
On the first day of the new year, 2011, my sister is on my mind.
Winter break is always a time of sisterhood, in weird sort of way. With a few weeks off from school, whatever issue is currently defining my relationship with my sister comes to a head. Whether we are clashing over dishwashing or politics, the issue usually comes to a breaking point in some sort of loud screaming match that may involve tears and almost inevitably involves borrowed clothing. (I'll be honest... I am the guilty borrower.) Which isn't to say we don't always have our good moments -- driving around Northern Virginia singing loudly to top 40 hits to pass the time, talking about childhood memories and our ridiculous and unique father -- but those moments have usually been bright glimmers among darker patches of competitiveness, resentment, and misunderstanding.
So today I would like to post a few pictures in honor of my sister, the person with whom I have the most complicated relationship in the world... but who I love more than anybody in the world.
Winter break is always a time of sisterhood, in weird sort of way. With a few weeks off from school, whatever issue is currently defining my relationship with my sister comes to a head. Whether we are clashing over dishwashing or politics, the issue usually comes to a breaking point in some sort of loud screaming match that may involve tears and almost inevitably involves borrowed clothing. (I'll be honest... I am the guilty borrower.) Which isn't to say we don't always have our good moments -- driving around Northern Virginia singing loudly to top 40 hits to pass the time, talking about childhood memories and our ridiculous and unique father -- but those moments have usually been bright glimmers among darker patches of competitiveness, resentment, and misunderstanding.
This ramp-up to a major battle -- where skirmishes in the kitchen and bathroom eventually reach their zenith in an all-out throwdown towards the end of our vacation -- is the standard procedure; however, this year's college winter break is half over for both of us, we have not come close to such a fight. In fact, we haven't fought at all. The thing is, it's not actually the fights that I mind or that I minded, it is the underlying bad feeling that drives and perpetuates those fights. But perhaps, at the ripe old ages of 22 and 20, we have finally learned how to be a bit more mature.
So today I would like to post a few pictures in honor of my sister, the person with whom I have the most complicated relationship in the world... but who I love more than anybody in the world.
Monday, December 27, 2010
the village life
When I was in Bangladesh last fall I had the chance to travel outside of Dhaka, the capital, to the constituency that my aunt, who is a politician, represents -- Chandpur.
Though I have been to Bangladesh close to a dozen times, and traveled outside of Dhaka multiple times, this trip to Chandpur was an eye-opening experience for me because it gave me a glimpse, for the first time, of what life in this part of the world must have been like before the extreme population growth and urbanization of the past few decades. Essentially, it gave me a glimpse of what life must have been like for my Bengali ancestors.
I have about a billion pictures that I would like to post, but these will probably suffice for now. Unfortunately I don't have many pictures of the city itself; most of my pictures are of the river area.
Though I have been to Bangladesh close to a dozen times, and traveled outside of Dhaka multiple times, this trip to Chandpur was an eye-opening experience for me because it gave me a glimpse, for the first time, of what life in this part of the world must have been like before the extreme population growth and urbanization of the past few decades. Essentially, it gave me a glimpse of what life must have been like for my Bengali ancestors.
I have about a billion pictures that I would like to post, but these will probably suffice for now. Unfortunately I don't have many pictures of the city itself; most of my pictures are of the river area.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Natural Experiments
One of my all-time favorite books when I was growing up was called My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George. It’s a story about a boy named Sam who goes to live alone on a mountain for a while. He ends up living in a hollowed out old tree, hunts his own food, and survives a snowy winter.
Stories were a big part of my childhood, but this one in particular remains engrained in my memory. I don’t quite know why. Maybe it was the sheer uniqueness of the story: there was only one human character present in most of the book (I think we read about his dad when he drops him off in the Catskills). Maybe it was that, with my family often spread out across the globe, missing people I love has long been a theme in my life and, thus, puzzled me greatly in this character: here was somebody who chose to leave behind everybody he loved. Maybe it was the fact that Sam must rely only on himself for survival, something that I have always wondered whether I could do. And maybe it was that I have always harbored (and continue to harbor?) a secret desire to throw off the demands of everybody I know and do the ultimate selfish (unselfish?) act: run away and live in the woods.
Come to think of it, this theme of natural, utterly independent existence is not one that is rare in the books I have read over the years. The Hatchet series, by Gary Paulsen, which follow a boy who survives a plane crash in the Canadian wilderness and is forced to fend for himself, left me breathless. Into the Wild, by Jon Krakauer, and the same film with Emile Hirsch, entranced me as well. There are a number of other stories whose names I cannot remember that fascinated me in a similar regard. Apparently, I have a thing for this whole solitary, outdoorsy, action-adventure thing.
It’s truly not just one thing that draws me to these stories. There are many things that sustain my daydream of setting off on my own similar adventure. A desire to see if I could make it on my own, for example, and in all senses of the world. To see if I could make do without others, if I could take care of myself. Also, the desire to be part of nature – really part of it, not just an observer – and to lose myself in it for a while. There is another thing: the desire to throw off all the expectations and burdens of society, to just be, live, exist. That is still the part that draws me in, and infeasible as it is.
But I have also realized that, not only is that option not feasible, it's not what I want. For better or worse, my happiness is tied to the people I care about and there is no distance I can travel to free myself from that.
Even if I could, I am not convinced that I would want to.
Stories were a big part of my childhood, but this one in particular remains engrained in my memory. I don’t quite know why. Maybe it was the sheer uniqueness of the story: there was only one human character present in most of the book (I think we read about his dad when he drops him off in the Catskills). Maybe it was that, with my family often spread out across the globe, missing people I love has long been a theme in my life and, thus, puzzled me greatly in this character: here was somebody who chose to leave behind everybody he loved. Maybe it was the fact that Sam must rely only on himself for survival, something that I have always wondered whether I could do. And maybe it was that I have always harbored (and continue to harbor?) a secret desire to throw off the demands of everybody I know and do the ultimate selfish (unselfish?) act: run away and live in the woods.
Come to think of it, this theme of natural, utterly independent existence is not one that is rare in the books I have read over the years. The Hatchet series, by Gary Paulsen, which follow a boy who survives a plane crash in the Canadian wilderness and is forced to fend for himself, left me breathless. Into the Wild, by Jon Krakauer, and the same film with Emile Hirsch, entranced me as well. There are a number of other stories whose names I cannot remember that fascinated me in a similar regard. Apparently, I have a thing for this whole solitary, outdoorsy, action-adventure thing.
It’s truly not just one thing that draws me to these stories. There are many things that sustain my daydream of setting off on my own similar adventure. A desire to see if I could make it on my own, for example, and in all senses of the world. To see if I could make do without others, if I could take care of myself. Also, the desire to be part of nature – really part of it, not just an observer – and to lose myself in it for a while. There is another thing: the desire to throw off all the expectations and burdens of society, to just be, live, exist. That is still the part that draws me in, and infeasible as it is.
But I have also realized that, not only is that option not feasible, it's not what I want. For better or worse, my happiness is tied to the people I care about and there is no distance I can travel to free myself from that.
Even if I could, I am not convinced that I would want to.
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