Imitations

Why we should walk (actually meant to post this yesterday)

I almost asked my wife to follow me in the van down to my local mechanic; I’m so glad I didn’t. On the short half mile walk home I was amazed at what I saw that I miss each day as I drive the same route to work: the refreshing brisk breeze, a mother goose with six tiny goslings, a enormously fat robin, the sound of a beautiful whistling bird which tellingly I do not know the name of, the presence of the wooded land somehow not developed along our neighborhood’s one and only country road.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m abundantly thankful for a cheap efficient car which moves me from place to place in comfort, but I was struck by the unseen, often unfelt price we pay if we unmindfully take advantage of this luxury.

Not grading

My plan was to grade 10-15 portfolios today--I've graded exactly zero. Still, I did give detailed feedback on a student essay being submitted to a national contest and one colleague's CCCC proposal; also, I finished my own proposal to NASPA, a conference for student affairs folks. And, of course, I attended the SLCC graduation (at least most of it). The question is do I have the wherewithal, at this point, to grade at least one student portfolio??? Unfortunately, I think not.

Wordpress down

and why is this important? well my students are submitting their portfolios today which are hosted on wordpress. I'm supposed to be grading--not that I was mucho excited about that as grading sucks and I'm not feeling so great either. still I feel I'm being held captive by wordpress. WORDPRESS GODS PLEASE FIX YOURSELF!!!

What to do, what to do???

*eat lunch--definitely

*keep reading new YA SF novel by corey doctorow about cyber hacking teens fighting a police state in SF--definitely

*worry about not grading and the state of wordpress--unfortunately

*read blogs and other sundry Internet material--I don't think so it makes my head hurt

*ride my bike--probably not as it is lightly snowing and my head is increasingly hurting

*write a thoughtful blog post on something--neh, I'm too tired

*clean the house/do some laundry etc--probably since the wife is working full-time for the census and I promised I'd pick up the slack

Nifty, innovative idea to have students post final portfolio in off-campus Internet site seems now kind of lame.

A most audacious request

This morning I was met with a request which defies belief. I blinked several times, shook my head, and then focused carefully to see if the student was actually requesting admission to my summer class. No the student was not. Next, I rubbed my eyes and checked the date and reread carefully. Sure enough the student writes:

"I know that there is only one week or so of school left in this semester but if there was anyway I could some how add your class I would be enternaly greatful."

Yes indeed this is a student wishing to add my class with actually less than one week left of classes. The student assures me that he has already purchased all the class texts, read them and is willing to spend 10 hours day everyday until the end of the semester in order to pass. How does one respond to such a request? I have no idea. In fact I'm not even sure how I should write about it in my blog.

I could approach it through questions:

Seriously you read all of the class texts? All three novels? And all 1242 pages of our anthology?

Do you think I'm stupid?

Did you really think I'd say yes?

But this starts to sound repetitive. Instead maybe I could approach this writing task with potential challenges for the student:

If you have indeed read all 1242 pages of our anthology and all three novels, please submit by tomorrow a 30 page summary and analysis of your reading. Please include detailed references to every short story in the anthology and each chapter of every novel.

Of course I won't send either of these responses to this student. In fact I don't plan on replying at all. But I will say here, if being completely honest, that I'm quite grateful to this student. I now carry with me and will retell hundreds of times the MOST audacious student request I've every received. And for this I say, thank you.

Go forth and teach

Sometimes I want to completely throw off the shackles and restraints of textbook teaching. I'm so absolutely tired of wadding through the dreary quasi-academic prose of textbook-talk--not too difficult for students yet learned enough to impress the profs; always the same chapters on the same topics; always the bulging move to cover enough of everything to placate everyone while not perfectly pleasing anyone.

Student clones reading textbook clones writing essay clones to turn into instructor clones.

I'm gripped by the desire to declutter my classes, to remove all SUPERtexts--all things extraneous to students engaging ideas and then writing. An intellectually honest proposal to students: We will read and write and talk and then we will help each other to see what we don't yet know and then we will work hard to learn something more. That's it.

But...I know there would be problems. I know there does not exist some idealized learning situation where all SUPERtexts are removed. I, the teacher, the prof, the one who knows and grades, will always and forever be the SUPERtext, the one who must be relied on even if she knows nothing and wants nothing to do with anything SUPER.

Still I dream, dream of time where professors and students can engage language and idea without a METAplan of action, without a proscribed set of outcomes which mean nothing in practice, without glazed stares from students only wanting a pass. Why pander to the middle, to the lower middle, in order to pretend we are all learning something in an organized and outcomy kind of way? Why create structure and detailed, self-important plans at the expense of meaning?

Because we must. Because even in the best case scenario of educational contexts, there would be failures and confusion and frustration. And if we must have failure, confusion, and frustration it must, the SUPERtext tells us, be orderly failure. Because orderly failure can masquerade as success, can be rejiggered and then sent out in the President's email to the college to prove our on-going success as THE PREMIER community college of America. Because orderly failure can be reduced to a system which needs tinkering with, which needs a few more outcome goals, a little more hard work, a bit more commitment from students.

Orderly microchange is the answer! Go forth and teach: mark papers, prepare syllabi, crack textbooks, shift the curriculum, form committees. At least this way we won't lose any students in any untoward upheaval and confusion. Certainly some students will fail and class, at times, may feel dull, but at least we have a big official book and a PLAN.

The energy of the youth

I am so so so so tired. Somehow the gods of airplanes and conferences and teaching have decided to descend on me today. It's not that I don't feel good emotionally; I do. In fact I feel quite good but very very very tired.

Maybe it was the two weeks of in-person student conferences before I went to my conference in Louisville--which were wonderful but draining.

Maybe it was the having something early every morning at my conference (plus a penchant for staying up late each night to watch march madness, then read, then finally look over the conference workshops for the next day).

Maybe it is because I rushed that last week and the days before the conference to be ready for our presentation on Thursday.

Maybe it was the cop who pulled me over (ostensibly because I didn't stay in my lane and didn't allow for three seconds after signaling to change lanes) on Saturday near midnight after my long flight who then made me do the entire drunk test thing because he saw a small prescription bottle in my glove box.

Maybe it's because I took an oral steroid (which totally perked me up and allowed me to sleep less) on Monday and Tuesday for a knee-biking-injury-thing and now I am steroidless.

Maybe because today is the first day in like a month when I haven't been behind the 8 ball to get all kinds of things done--much to do but none of it is quite yet urgent.

OR Maybe it's because I am facing our taxes, a letter of recommendation, and sundry little things I've been putting off.

I'm not sure what it is, but I'm so unbelievably tired yet strangely jovial. A mood that shouldn't be, but I will take it. And later tonight I will full-out veg as I watch the NCAA tourney while I eat popcorn, make small talk with the family, and occasionally yell over quips for the oldest son's use who will probably again be defending Obama and healthcare reform on FB--ah the energy of the youth.

Off Grid

He'd been down this trail before, a trail which at first passes through mountain valleys and high pine-laden passes, soaring heights and deep dark pure river waters. Beautiful. Intriguing. Meaningful. There is no end, he is tempted to believe. But later, as always, the trail comes back down into a new valley in the city, one strewn with beer bottles and broken down old buildings. He will, as in the past, try to turn around, even frantically flipping a U-turn; unfortunately he merely encounters more run-down streets as if in a maze--they have multiplied as he was traveling, seemingly filling up the space behind him even as he was moving.

On occasion he will happen to take a turn and find a park, a few trees, even a small stream; yet the mountain vistas and earlier adrenaline of steep climbs and whizzing descents will remain forever allusive, these wispy simulacra giving brief reprieve but also pangs of unfulfilled desire. Soon he will stop peering high above the buildings; his neck hurts and his soul can't afford another "almost." So soon, very soon hopefully, he will readjust his focus, averting the impossible vistas, returning instead to the two feet forever, one at a time, moving forward...or at least moving somewhere comfortably past the same familiar, peeling sign each day.

Imitation is...reality and now I will extend my arms in front of me, palms upward, wrists together. Please God, plug me back in.

Winter

I think winter is almost gone, the sun has definitely been out more, the air is much less gunkier. Yet when the wind hit me as I mojoed it from car to office early this morning, winter seemed to say, Not so fast you fair weathered wimp. Ah geez, I screamed. And then there's the 38 and clouds and snowflakes on my I-google app. C'mon already--warm it up! I want 5s followed by 4s and 8s turning to 6s followed by 3s. A 6 followed by anything would be grand. Sun in my face while eating my lunch in front of MY window office, I effectively pretended there were 6s out there, 6s followed by sweet 8s.

I'm absolutely Fucked

NOTICE: Not surprisingly this post contains strong language, sarcasm, full puppet nudity...wait, no, that was in the play I saw last night, hyperbole, and dark humor. If you are not up for such things (mother!!!!) then please by all means do not read another go**am word.

***

I'm absolutely Fucked

Yet realizing, fully admitting, this fact has, on this very morning, Counterintuitively given me a certain sense of peace.

Realization #1: I will have to dedicate every minute to completing the work I have in front of me until after the 4Cs conference in Louisville this March

Realization #2: This means (which is merely reiterating #1 but I'm thick skulled) I must work all weekends and all evenings without feeling sorry for myself--I chose (mostly) to be this busy and I like my work...really I do.

Realization #3: In order to work all weekends and evening (again I'm repetitive but I need it) this means I can't watch an episode of House every night or take 3 hour long snow hikes...i.e. I have to make some drastic changes.

Work to be done (Readers: this section can be skipped as it is really a process in convincing myself that I am indeed fucked and, to most, will seem a skimpy amount of labor at best):

• Complete 4 Cs presentation and retention study: transcribe about 6hrs of recorded focus groups and interviews, do research, write up a draft of reports, decide with Sig-No and Antistrophe what the fuck we will say during our presentation
• Read and lead book discussion on Life as we know it by M. Berube for English conference on Disability
• Read Oliver Sack's amazing book on neurological disorders: The man who mistook his wife for a hat for personal book club
• Finish grading first set of response papers for my SF class, grade 2nd set next week
• Grade memoirs for 2010 course
• Grade out midterm portfolios for all 70 students in 2010 the week before I go to Louisville--why oh why....oops I'm in no complaint mode
• Review a new textbook on writing in the disciplines, one which is very thick
• Submit report to TETCY on best TETYC article of 2009
• Continue meeting with School curr committee which is in the throes of redefining itself
• Support the Writing and social justice conference on Disability by shepherding a flock of students to submit proposals, complete their projects, and show up
• Amidst all this try to respond in a timely and professional manner to the zillion student questions and inquiries which will surely come over the next 6 weeks
• Continue developing English 2010 curriculum for my newly minted tech-enhanced course/ new textbook
• Meet with and read carefully read work of the incredibly passionate and intelligent independent study student I'm working with

New rules and regulations governing the life of Ron:

• Limit communication to children: "Do that now!" or "Do that now before I kick your ass!"
• House viewing: 5 minutes per night as I do my core exercises
• Sexual activity: A 3 minute quickie every week, one bonus 5 min session for following all rules and regulations for one week (will have to run this by significant other)
• No silly blogging once I'm finished with this post--and don't even consider logging onto FB
• Discontinue meditation and Yoga practices for 6 weeks--peace and serenity certainly won't help me get anything done!!!!
• No useless conversations/emails with students about questions and concerns about assignments and their writing. New standard line: "You are so full of shit; just do you work and get back with me when you are done."
• Lean Cuisine-It for all lunches--sandwiches and fruits are overrated anyways and peeling/cutting fruit is WAAAYYY too time consuming
• Drive 95mph to work: this is 15 mph faster than I currently drive so that means I will travel 15 mph further each hour I drive. And since I spend about an hour driving every day that should save me... ah who the fuck knows and I don't have time to figure it out. Suffice it to say that it will save me time. P.S. I will kick it up to 105mph if I see flashing lights.
• Only read and grade every other paper giving the all missed papers a B- grade--no one will notice and odds are every student will eventually get an honestly graded paper eventually

I will probably have to make other adjustments, maybe tweak a few I've listed here, but this is a good starting place. Wow, I am feeling a lot better about being totally fucked. Lots of peace. All right. Time to sign-off, time to get down to it, time to Zen-like, fully embrace me being absolutely Fucked.

An eight year old learning to chat

Last week I helped Andrew set-up a gmail account...I never imagined how much fun it would be. Here are some of my favorites:

Over chat while avoiding american idol by working:

hey what you doing? american idol is almost over well see you crazy

In an email:

hi dad what are you doing . It sucks that you have school. get home!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (these go on for a whole page but I figure my readers get the effect)

While I was at a performance for my oldest son he chatted me:

get home please (note that I do not have cell phone which connects to the Internet)

In another email:

stop doing your lowsy work???!!!! (note rhetorical use of combined question mark and exclamation point...what a kid)

Ending on a somber note, through these little exchanges I've realized he is often wishing that I wasn't working so much...I had no idea. My lousy work???? But Andrew I'm a teacher!!!! Somehow I don't think he will care.

Waiting on the teens

I'm actually watching SNL, something I haven't done, other than off of You-Tube, for years. Why you might ask? Because I'm waiting for our almost-teen, Hana, and teenager, Seth, to get home. Alison has long been asleep so I'm on-call solo.

We don't really do this late night thing too well. Slowly chipping away at my late-night habits over the years, Alison has made 10:45pm seem late even on the weekend. I had to laugh when I read HTM's blog today where she mentioned staying up later because her 20 something son was out late. Many times we have--sorry to admit this in a public forum--fallen asleep while our teen was out and about. I guess we just suck as parents. Or maybe I just suck.

I have multiple distinct memories making a promise I am no longer keeping:

Groggily pleading out of a young parent haze, "Hon.... please... I promise. If you get up with the babies when they are you, I will stay up every weekend waiting for every one of our kids when they are teens. This is a good deal; it will just take some...."

"Ok, whatever."

"I love you...I love sweet sleep at 2am in the morning."

It seemed like a good plan at the time, but I didn't count on the fatal blow 14 yrs would have on my abilities to stay up, nor my waning worry about where they are. Well, here's my daughter, home from the movies. Should I call Seth at his friend's or simply go to sleep and figure his friend's parents will bring him home? It would be kind of fun not to call just to see how Seth would respond (while we have gone to sleep while he was out, we've never done it without a plan for his return). Would Seth worry about us? I highly doubt it. Would he come home earlyish, like midnight? Even less likely. Would he thank me in the morning for letting him stay out late? Probably.

Oh, shit guess I will go get him. Can't wait for a blast of 10 degree air. How in THE hell am I going to make it through another decade of this?

Parental Interview

Sunday afternoon: Seated on the couch when the oldest son enters and sits down, placing his hands on his knees:

"So you guys know your bed squeaks, right?"

"Does it?" he says with intentional nonchalance.

"Squeaks, huh?" she says with a little apprehension.

"Yes, it does. You know (breaking into song)... 'Making love in afternoon with Celia up in my bedroom'"

Floored and turning a shade of pink he says, "Oh, I see what you are getting at."

"Just so you know. It squeaks and has for some time."

"Wow, you are really sockin' it to us, aren't you?" he says.

"Just sayin'"

Out-of-Office-Reply

I was feeling pretty good about myself this morning: I'd found what I think will be a great little "memoir" piece on disability which I can use in my English 2010 courses to call attention to this year's writing conference theme on disability; also, found an online copy of "Speech sounds," a short story where a disease of some sorts has caused everyone to have a speech disability to use in my SF class to also support the writing conference theme (btw this took some searching dexterity as I had to locate the publishing history of Speech Sounds and then look up several of the books on Google books till I found one which allowed access to the story--just sayin).

And I fleshed out the first month of my new 2o10 schedule which is going to use Odell's updated textbook, now called Writing Now and my newly conceived methodology--basically, to spend more time with fewer genres allowing students to make their "choices" within each genre rather than choosing amongst genres for their final portfolio. For the non-writing teachers reading, don't worry if this last paragraph made no sense at all.

So, I was feeling pretty good about my accomplishments until I sent an email to the Writing and Social Justice committee to share the reading I found on diversity--almost everyone's email bounced back "Out of office Autoreply." WTF???!!! Seems most everyone is still partying and I'm sitting here, on the last Saturday morning of the break, working. I mean I don't even know how to set up an "Out of office" reply because I don't think I've ever been away from my email for long enough to worry about it. Is something wrong with me? Should my life, outside of my job, be more compelling so as to take me completely away from my work?

Well, I worried about these tough existential questions for about 2 seconds and then settled down to get a bit more work done. I'm done vacationing and I vacationed hard (as hard as a non-drinking dad of three can): trip to vegas with family, many xmas family engagements, chinese for xmas eve, night at the Anniversary in with my wife, lotta movies (Avatar, Blind Side, The Road, The Brother's Bloom--an excellent comedy btw, Watchmen, Valkyerie, Paper Heart--not so great), several snow/ice hikes.

So, to all those out-of-office folks, I'm officially ok to be getting some work done--it brings me peace to do some thinking about the spring, to have a foundation laid before I jump full on into work on Monday.

Let us scratch: Cameron's missed opportunity in Avatar

In response to a reporter James Cameron agreed that Avatar was based on Dances with Wolves amongst other moves and then added, "It's almost comfortable for the audience – 'I know what kind of tale this is.' They're not just sitting there scratching their heads, they're enjoying it and being taken along." If only he had allowed more scratching of heads and less taking along, this would have been one of the best movies of all time.

I thoroughly enjoyed the first two-thirds of the movie. An amazingly new world and context never written about or filmed before. I could say much about the imaginative beauty of these "alien" creatures--the flying is superb, the native's cosmogony intriguing. But then the movie gives into the inevitable story arch pressure to produce purely good and evil characters battling out to the bitter end. So pathetic given the amount of money, time, and talent spent on this film. I thought up five better endings while driving the 10 minutes home from the theater--and, yes, I shared each one to my children's chagrin.

I'm still glad I saw the film because I like the questions I've been wrestling with even as the film was winding down. And ultimately I'm more interested in these big questions, than with any final evaluation of the film. Why do smart, talented people insist that a movie end in a battle to the end between the arch enemy and hero? Are these archetypal surges coursing through our veins? Or is it just laziness? Or, as the liberal conspiracy theorist wants to believe, is it the false consciousness of the masses which demand such easily digested endings?

Whatever it is, I will--hope against hope--continue to demand better. Cameron could easily have done better and still connected with the deep psyche of his audience. What a lost opportunity to truly engage the complexities of our current wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. There were several allusions--shock and awe, pre-emptive war--but these are thin critiques of war because they are cast in an arena where our hero is pure goodness, our villain--the rampaging, hard-ass military commander--pure evil. It's impossible to compare the characters in Avatar to the characters playing out our own wars; real life always has an element of ambiguity, no one is pure evil.

I find it supremely ironic that those (many I think) who would disagree with my critiques of the movie would be the same who supported the war in Iraq. How can this be? I believe it is because the content--fighting native people's in their country or world--is not the real issue. The issue is seeing war as THE way to find peace. In this story arc war is the only possible option to defuse the tension and tip the scales back. Certainly there can't be any other options.

But wait. Maybe if we took a few minutes, slowed down the pace for a second, checked the escalating emotions. We have many good examples: Miyazaki's Princess Mononoke comes to mind. A similarly themed story in many ways--the native animals are under attack by the westernized and militarized industrial complex--yet the the conclusion is so different. Instead of two-dimensional evil doers we get Lady Eboshi, a woman who hires prostitutes and lepers to work in Irontown. She is not pure evil; she cares about her workers even as she works to denude the land. And our heroes are even more complex: Ashitaka, the boy-warrior, is infested with an evil curse; San, the supposed "princess mononoke," is a vicious, bloody faced girl. The traditional action ends as the "evil" men shoot the spirit of the forest--a huge elk--and take its head. Later, the head is returned in order to avoid total destruction. In the end there is both destruction and rebirth; there are no clear winners or losers, no one is demonized. And Ashitaka chooses to remain in Irontown to help rebuild it. The "answers" are complex, multilayered, human.

If only Cameron had enough confidence in his audience, enough confidence to lose a few viewers along the way. If only we, as an audience, were willing to reject simplified revisions of past injustices. I'm all for rewriting (rerighting) the past but it doesn't take much imagination to realize that a revitalized, re-envisioned, remetaphorized past requires new rules, not merely a reversal of the winners. The natives lost the battle in American history and in Cameron's world they win; yet both narrative arcs require extreme hatred, caricature, and violence in order to bring the story to a close. To steal a phrase from Donna Haraway's "Cyborg Manifesto," Avatar's ending (opposed to its compelling explorations of the embodied Avatar, the Cyborgian mix of human and alien) "generates antagonistic dualism without end (or until the world ends)," relying yet again on our Apocalyptic mythology which refuses partial/hybrid/faulty integration and paradox--all big words for the human condition.

To my students (or grading avoidance skill #123)

If only I could communicate this to more of my students. At least one student got it who wrote this line in his self-assessment essay:

"Unlike my other English classes I feel that what I’ve learned in this class will stick with me outside of college classes. Prior English classes had only taught me situational writing skills where a teacher told me what I had to do."

Yes, yes, yes!!! That's why I don't tell you exactly what to do. It's not to frustrate you, it's not because I don't know how to make detailed scripted assignments, it's not because I'm lazy: it's because I want you to learn something so we can engage in something real. That's all.

Getting to the skin

We end my SF course with presentations about how SF works to engage issues of diversity. One students did a most daring change of apparel, especially given he had never openly discussed his sexual orientation up to this point. See the video below (watch from 1:30; video taping not so hot). In the process the student makes a pointed criticism of diversity classes and seminars: they often create only skin-deep categories of human beings.

I have to say this is one of the best classes I've ever had. We had tough, open, dangerous conversations about gay rights, the LDS church, religion, and gender with a very mixed group of students. On the last day three students just stayed in the class even though we'd already gone over; I don't think they could quite pull themselves away from what they had created.

A better life?

I wrote this last week, then forgot about it. Since I'm still trying to figure out the holidays, I thought I'd throw it out there. Maybe there are others who have similar struggles or maybe I'm alone in both longing for and yet also hating my long xmas break. Also, it's high time for a long, depressing, trying to "say something deep" post on CI--that's what I'm known for and I wouldn't dream of disappointing.

***

What does it mean to live a better life? Often when this idea is invoked it seems to me people mean "to do more." Do more stuff, be better, give more, engage more. I have my doubts about this construction of a better life. Even beyond the level of the rationalization, "Well, I must take time for me so that I will be better engaged with my kids when I'm home." To me this still says more is better. The "stuff for you" is merely a means to being more, doing more. Why can't that stuff for you be an end in itself?

I'm probably thinking about these kinds of issues because yet again I am facing another christmas break. Generally I have not faired so well on these breaks. I give lip service, "Yeah, it's great being a teacher; lots of time to read, get together with my kids..." But in reality, and this is increasing with age, a part of me dreads the break, is afraid of the inescapable struggles I have.

I generally start off a break with a zillion little goals--more hiking, more reading, more studying, more creativity, much more of the most difficult of tasks (reading theory, catching up on academic journals, difficult novels). No surprise, then, that after a few days of NOT meeting these goals, I begin to feel heavy, lethargic, miserable.

How does one short circuit such a process? I've tried many things--pretend I have no goals, but this is lie to myself; be more active; wake up early each morning maintaining a schedule; healthy winter projects like hiking and photographing the local canyons; make goals about reaching out to others.....All of these have offered some semblance of hope but have often been short-lived.

I've noticed that I often do not feel at ease with a break until I've been on break for a couple of weeks. Then I finally can settle in and enjoy it. But this is after depression, frustration, and erratic desire.

Should I do something different this break? It seems I must consider it but what and will I even follow through with it? I don't know. I've thought of the following:

*meditation each morning

*exercise daily

*at least a couple of one on one dates with each child

*retreat, maybe to the monastery in Huntsville

*do something different as a family for christmas, like a show in vegas (we are seriously considering the Fab 4 Beatles tribute vegas show for a family trip the week before christmas)

But is this merely another reiteration of the "more" cycle? Maybe it is better to do nothing, to have zero goals, no expectations--live the break one day at a time and allow myself to do whatever it is I want to fill my day. One day I might read all day; another I might watch several films; another I might do absolutely nothing. But even this list can easily become a matter of more. More reading, more films checked off my list, more of nothing which is a goal in my mediation class. Freakin goals. Stupid goals. If only I could focus on doing "differently" instead of doing "more."

Yet...god I have no idea but I know that already I suffer in advance for the "wonderful" vacation I will start in a few weeks. I might be better off working at the local maverick or the mall selling something in one of those kiosks--maybe some lotion or beanies. Wait, I hate malls. But while I might hate it, at least I'd keep busy and have some extra money in the end. Reasoning: I will probably get down no matter what I do so why not do something that I can measure with dollars? Oh hell, I'm back to more.

One day on the wagon

Yesterday I took a break from the Internet and learned the following:

1. I got much more reading done--reading by the fire sans laptop was peaceful, even idyllic.

2. Much harder than I imagined: many times I caught myself, without explicitly thinking about it, wandering in my office to check email or the Netflix queue or....

3. How much I miss having 4 or 5 books out all at once, reading some from one, then another: intertextual connection equals paper-textual bliss.

4. How much I miss reading BOOKS with pages I feel and turn with my hand, books I write in, books I caress

5. Felt strangely disconnected from all my Internet friends--what if someone emailed me? what if someone posted a comment on my recent FB update? (which many people did, which I saw on my sister's laptop at Thanksgiving because she had posted a comment on my update, at which point I had to tear myself away so as to not check FB) what if someone made a nifty Thanksgiving post I should be paying attention to? what if my Netflix queque is out of order and they send me some movie I don't want? what about this thing I'm reading about (like the reference to Sir Gawain and the loathely lady in Kabat-Zinn's book on parenting) that I need to Google?

6. How my ideas for blog posts, FB updates soars, and ideas I want to email to others when I know I am forbidden from being online

7. That make-up online-connection is almost as good as make-up sex--I've had an orgasmic flow of online energy all morning.

8. That even with a day off and the euphoria of make-up connection this morning, I still feel a wee bit guilty about the two hours lost with my electronic mistress.

The happiest man in the world

In articulating his sense of what happiness Matthieu Ricard (a French scientist who become a monk), a renowned Buddhist monk, says:

"And also, [mere pleasure is] something that basically doesn't radiate to others, you can experience pleasure at the cost of other's suffering. So it's very vulnerable to the change of other circumstances. It doesn't help you to face the other circumstances better. Now, if we think of happiness as a way of being, a way of being that give (sic) you the resources to deal with the ups and downs of life, that pervades all the emotional state (sic), including sadness."

I was struck by his notion of happiness as a way of being and a resource, one that pervades all emotional states. From this perspective our traditional ideas of happiness are turned on their head. Instead it's the overriding emotion of well-being which supports and allows most other emotions and actions; it's not a fleeting state we strive for, a bliss we hope to keep a hold of as long as possible.

A further discussion of this can be found on NPR's Speaking of Faith, "The 'happiest' man in the world."