I only know this due to extensive investigation into the matter. I do not crave brains, I am not inclined to rip my clothing in order to look more ill-kept, and I am not (as far as I know) rotting. The issue only bears relevance in the remarkably numerous other ways that I AM currently like a zombie. I tend to stagger, my sentences often end in zombie inspired moans, and I am becoming less and less distraught at the idea of drooling. I mean, do you know how much relative energy is required to keep saliva in?!
What I mean is that I have gotten very little sleep and imbibed entirely too much caffeine. I've now embraced my sleep delirium state with something resembling resignation, and something else resembling pathetic mewling. Seriously, you should see me. One of four papers opened in front of me, I claw the air blindly in a futile gesture of impotent rage, and make sounds no human has heard since ET came out.
I've gone through the full round of appropriate cliches. What doesn't kill me makes me stronger. It builds character. No pain no gain. I've settled on a mixture of two: No killing no gain. For some reason when I say this out loud people look at me strange. I'm just trying to inspire myself, people.
It will be curious to see if I actually remember posting this or not.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Who are we?
A cliche question if ever there was one. Unfortunately, it's one of those cliches that loses none of its potency just because it is a cliche. Any person even mildly inclined towards reflection inevitably has to bow their head to this paterfamilias of internal questions. Thusly, I find myself at its familiar threshold, as, even with my storied propensity towards reflection, the question remains quite relevant.
I have decided that who we are is largely who we are perceived to be. Yes, there is an internal you, somewhere deep down, which has been hardened over time into a consistency tenacious enough to endure the outside pressures it is subject to. But surely this is only a core, a small, but weighty portion. The large majority of who we are depends on the context of each moment. Who are we talking to? How do we feel at the time? How is that person responding?
Along these lines, I have thought out three universal truths for how we are perceived and how we perceive others. In written form, they can be described as the following:
Shape wise, these would form a pyramid, with the item with the largest frequency, what we think, forming the base, and the smallest section, what we do, forming the tip. This reflects the frequency of our reality: i.e. we think things way more than we do things. Much like in Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, however, the size of the sections are disproportional to their significance. In terms of importance, we can think of it as a pyramid that is partially buried. It is the top most section, our actions, which are most readily discerned by those on the surface, followed by the second section, what we say, and ending with what we think.
I have decided that who we are is largely who we are perceived to be. Yes, there is an internal you, somewhere deep down, which has been hardened over time into a consistency tenacious enough to endure the outside pressures it is subject to. But surely this is only a core, a small, but weighty portion. The large majority of who we are depends on the context of each moment. Who are we talking to? How do we feel at the time? How is that person responding?
Along these lines, I have thought out three universal truths for how we are perceived and how we perceive others. In written form, they can be described as the following:
We are what we do
We reflect what we say
We project what we think
Shape wise, these would form a pyramid, with the item with the largest frequency, what we think, forming the base, and the smallest section, what we do, forming the tip. This reflects the frequency of our reality: i.e. we think things way more than we do things. Much like in Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, however, the size of the sections are disproportional to their significance. In terms of importance, we can think of it as a pyramid that is partially buried. It is the top most section, our actions, which are most readily discerned by those on the surface, followed by the second section, what we say, and ending with what we think.
This is, I believe, how we ultimately form opinions of others, and why that other great cliche, "actions speak louder than words," seems to ring so true. Given time to get to know someone, it is possible to slowly excavate their pyramid, to reveal more and more of why they say what they say, or to understand more clearly what they think given a situation. The one thing that is visible at all times, however, is what we do.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
Stress!
It is shaping up to be one of those months. I have been floating with relative comfort above the tidal waves of everyday life these past few months, and have tackled things with such a large quantity of efficiency that I almost feel like I should take a picture standing next to it, smiling a big smile and giving the thumbs up like one would to a recently captured fishing prize. It would be for posterity, obviously.
This feeling, it is to be immediately understand, is highly relative. I am not and never will be the organized type who cuts through red tape at whim. My recent foray into the realms of "doing" are only successful when compared to my extensive past history of "not doing."
All of this having been said, I will now get to the stark, white bone of the issue: There's a crap load to do this next month! School is kicking into high gear, and by May 1st I need to have a comprehensive and impressive application turned into Northwestern University for their Medill School of Journalism. Also, I'll be gone a lot this month, so I'm looking down the familiar barrel of the "I-know-what-I-have-to-do-but-seriously-when-will-i-have-time-to-do-it?!" gun.
And so enters a rather unfamiliar enemy whom I've rarely had to deal with: Stress. I''ve been under plenty of stress, but I can't easily recall being stressed. So now when someone says "I'm stressed," I can nod sagely while stroking my beard, for I will know to what they refer. The sun has not stopped in it's natural course, and the stars are still very much set in their twirlings and whirlings, but this next month is shaping up to be one of the hardest I've had to deal with in a while.
I guess that's it. Oh, one other thing: Wish me luck! Or pray for success. Or pray for luck while wishing me prayers!
This feeling, it is to be immediately understand, is highly relative. I am not and never will be the organized type who cuts through red tape at whim. My recent foray into the realms of "doing" are only successful when compared to my extensive past history of "not doing."
All of this having been said, I will now get to the stark, white bone of the issue: There's a crap load to do this next month! School is kicking into high gear, and by May 1st I need to have a comprehensive and impressive application turned into Northwestern University for their Medill School of Journalism. Also, I'll be gone a lot this month, so I'm looking down the familiar barrel of the "I-know-what-I-have-to-do-but-seriously-when-will-i-have-time-to-do-it?!" gun.
And so enters a rather unfamiliar enemy whom I've rarely had to deal with: Stress. I''ve been under plenty of stress, but I can't easily recall being stressed. So now when someone says "I'm stressed," I can nod sagely while stroking my beard, for I will know to what they refer. The sun has not stopped in it's natural course, and the stars are still very much set in their twirlings and whirlings, but this next month is shaping up to be one of the hardest I've had to deal with in a while.
I guess that's it. Oh, one other thing: Wish me luck! Or pray for success. Or pray for luck while wishing me prayers!
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