Changing of the Guard

I’m not normally one to make New Year’s Resolutions — but this year — rather, next year — I am participating. Essentially, I’m going to give up certain responsibilities I had previously placed upon myself. Of course I had no real power in the first place, but I held to the belief that I did — now, I relinquish that belief.

In short, I’m a horrible steward, too filled with limiting ideas and thoughts of lack. I am ceding control over to someone that is lucky and liked by others, someone that literally receives what she wishes for, someone that sees the sunny-side of life. In other words, I am abandoning the patriarchy and accepting the matriarchy. Mom’s in charge now.

Furthermore, I am going to take up a new hobby. This blog was originally located at the address WhittlinRich.WordPress.com but I had purchased the domain name WellCraftedWords.com about a year and a half ago in hopes of some commercial success. Nothing manifested from that name-change so I’m dropping it and going back to the original.

Relatedly, my new hobby is wood-working. It’s actually a hobby I’ve dabbled-in many times, but I’m going back to it for now. I don’t know if I’ll be posting wood-working-related posts here or not. Although, it would be funny to arrive at this site in the future while looking for wood-working related posts, only to go back into the archives and see all the philosophical stuff.

I don’t know if I’m finally going back into regular life, losing myself to the everyday. Perhaps my Algernon period of awareness is over for now. It’s getting close to six years since I started this blog. The conclusion it reached, is that life’s a funhouse, so have fun — don’t take things so seriously. Or maybe this is just one of those soon-to-be-abandoned resolutions — I guess time will tell.

Either way, Merry Christmas and have a Happy New Year!

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New Lands

When things get cramped, humanity goes exploring, discovering new lands to disperse into. Yet what happens when there’s no place left to go? Well amazingly, new territories appear on the map. Columbus thought he’d find India traveling across the ocean, but oops, something just happened to be in the way, a giant continent. And so a swarm of people left the density of Europe for the relative openness of the Americas. Coincidence?

Well what’s left today? The forests? Oceans? Mars? Cyberspace? All of the above? Solar and battery technology along with satellite and radio communications will make moving away from population centers more doable. And with advancing rocket technology, colonies on Mars are becoming more feasible. As for cyberspace, much of my life already takes place online, a virtual existence — why bother to leave the house at all?

In cyberspace, I can browse the endless aisles of Amazon. I can watch shows catering to my particular personality. I can read the compiled works of human literature. I can video-chat with my mom who’s hundreds of miles away. I can control giant battling robots. And these worlds intersect when people you meet online manifest in-person or when packages arrive or when your heart races from a rather intense online-battle.

But new land doesn’t come cheap does it? There’s always a bit of struggle, no? Whether it’s legislative control, corporate hegemony, restricted bandwidth, technological limitations, griefers, hackers — whatever form it may be. But what game comes without challenge — overcoming obstacles is the entire point of many games. So, the things that get in our way are just part of the fun.

We must consider that not everyone left the Old World for the New, so we shouldn’t expect old ways to be overwritten by the new. Ideally, we should all support each other’s right to go in the direction we choose. Just because we don’t like a certain path, we shouldn’t attempt to shut it down. If people want to live in the forests, in the ocean, on Mars, in cyberspace, or wherever and however they want — then good for them.

By the way, such an obvious pattern of constant realm-expansion should serve as evidence of life’s artificiality. For those of us too tightly wound, we should use these little reminders as reason not to take life too seriously — it’s for entertainment purposes only. There’s always something newer and bigger around the corner. Lack isn’t real, there’s nothing physical confining us. Relax and enjoy the show.

Tis Better

An excerpt from the fictional tales: Defender of the Christmas Faith

It’s often touted that it’s better to give than receive. Yet to become a giver there must be a receiver — therefore we should not place judgement upon either party lest we involve ourself in a game of spiritual hot-potato, always trying to give away what lands in our lap. We must graciously and appreciatively receive, lest we insult the giver.

In fact, Christmas is very much about receiving. For God so loveth the world, that he hath given his only begotten Son. Who are we, mere mortals, to give anything? We have nothing but what the Creator provides, we’re simply swapping the things we don’t own amongst ourselves. Truly, the only thing we can give is our thanks.

Believe not the naysayers proclaiming that some must lose for others to win. We’ve all already won. Don’t listen to lackers that believe in the finite, peddling their nonsense of limitless limitation. Doomsayers have plagued every era, yet the good times have kept on rolling. Why should we presume the fun will stop in our generation?

Christmas is a time for miracles, a time for receiving gifts we don’t deserve. When I fill out my Christmas Wish List, it’s full of items that stir delight. When I think of Christmas, I imagine thrilled hearts rapaciously tearing apart wrapping paper — I hear squeals of glee as long sought toys are finally in hand. What we’re experiencing through receiving, is joy.

Therefore, let us not shun this merriment, but embrace it. Let us lift our cups high in celebration of the season, a celebration of life itself, displaying our wholehearted appreciation for the gifts we receive. Let us wish the best for others and hope they receive their heart’s desire, but let us not forget our own enjoyment as we are part of the all.

As it is said, “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

Magical Mystery

I don’t think there’s any question as to whether magic is real. Magic is the manifestation of intent. From childhood dreams, to success stories, to wishes, to just plain goal-setting, there’s determination underlying whatever comes next. How the particulars happen, we don’t really know or care — external events align and the things we had imagined appear before us.

If the world was purely physical, then things wouldn’t miraculously align like that. The circumstances and people we require wouldn’t waltz into our path like they do. Yet as if by magic, things do synchronize. People do end up fulfilling childhood fantasies, people do meet the spouse of their dreams, people do overcome extraordinary odds, people do obtain success.

So there’s no debate over whether magic exists, the question is, how can we manipulate these forces to satisfy our desires. But a deeper question becomes: can we actually control this magic and do we even want to? Consider this: where do these inspiring daydreams come from? An idea simply pops into our thought-stream and suddenly we want it to come true — but why?

Is there an external narrative going on in which we simply play our part? Perhaps life is purposefully providing the false impression that we have influence over it. In other words, life does all the heavy-lifting but wants us to think we’re doing it ourself. But how could we — we barely know anything. We’re on autopilot — situations present themselves and we simply go along for the ride.

For another perspective, imagine watching a play on a stage. We the audience can’t help the production along — but we can certainly screw it up. We can become overly involved in the plot and shout about what’s going on. We can allow ourself to become outraged over little things or get distracted by a particular scene, focusing on the details we don’t like, no longer paying attention to the action currently happening. We can fail to give the playwright the benefit-of-the-doubt, criticizing the entire time, booing whenever the mood strikes. We can fail to appreciate all the effort that went into the production, yelling about what a waste of time it is.

So which is it? Are we creating the world as we live it — perhaps in a dream-like manner? Is there a pre-written narrative in which we watch as if on an amusement-park ride? Are we capable of changing any or all of it? Do we even want to? Are we the author, actor, or audience? Are the answers to these questions purposefully obfuscated in order to maintain the mirage, adding an element of mystery? Is the world all things to all people, allowing every question’s answer to depend on the perspective?

Anniversary Apology

I met my friend twenty years ago. We were just talking and I brought up the fact that all the good things I have in life stem from her presence. I paused and reflected on that statement. If true, it means that my gratefulness is woefully under-represented by my actions. In other words, I should be worshipping the ground she walks upon for all that she’s given me. If she did nothing else starting today, I’d still owe her for the last two decades.

She was my first and only girlfriend, my first and only best-friend, she taught me how tasty food could be. And after growing up in such a negative family environment, she showed me that “family” could be a term of endearment. She was the adoring and dutiful mother that our little baby needed. And of course my more cheerful outlook on life is plainly due to her guiding influence. Having been a pessimistic realist, I now believe in the goodness of life and all sorts of fanciful things.

Because of this, I have most certainly taken her presence for granted. She has carefully crafted the majority of meals I’ve eaten. I literally can’t enjoy food without her around. And most importantly, she not only listens to my inane philosophizing, but responds as though she cares. I have never met a better cook, or a more clever person, nor a better listener — she remembers everything. People, including babies and animals, tend to adore her.

What that initial statement made me realize, is how little gratitude I show toward such a vital component of my life. It’s sheer disrespect on my part, and I’m taken aback by it. I should be demonstrating my appreciation daily — hourly in fact! I asked whether she’d rather have a thank-you or an apology — I think her response is obvious. And so I wholeheartedly apologize, and repent for the horrible way in which I selfishly took her presence for granted.

But mere words are not enough, I must change my ways. In my future dealings with her, I must trust her opinion much more than I already do. What she thinks best, probably is. My patience towards her must be an endless well. When she speaks I must silence my own mind and simply listen. I must recognize the ingredient of love she mixes into every meal. Every bit of criticism that crosses my mind must be checked by the infinite delight she’s infused within my being.

I apologize to you, Michelle, for being so late in my understanding of the totality of your greatness. Happy Anniversary!

Saturday Stirrings

I tend to think that people fit into nice, neat categories. Whenever there’s a differentiation of traits, I attempt to determine my fit within the specified groupings. Whether it’s the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator where I’m an INTP, or the Chinese Zodiac where I’m a Rabbit, or the other Zodiac where I’m a Sagittarius, or the four elements where I’m obviously an Air element, or politics where I’m probably a progressive. Or Hogwarts, where I’m kind of a Ravenclaw but settled for the more relaxed life of a Hufflepuff.

Even being from New England, I associate with its colonial, doggedly independent, and zealot-filled past. Speaking of which, Thanksgiving is soon upon us, a time when we celebrate a bunch of true-believers that left everything behind in order to worship the Almighty in their own way. A group so determined and trusting in God, that they arrived woefully unprepared for what was to come. This was not a hearty band of survivalists, but regular folk simply expecting things to work out for the best.

I think half died soon after arriving and the other half survived thanks to a native that returned to his homeland after being forcibly taken to England. Imagine arriving in the New World and some dude walks outta the woods speaking English and shows you how to procure food. And, there just happens to be an abandoned village in which you can live (the previous inhabitants died of disease). WTF?! That’s Providence for you (not the city, but God’s protective care). Interestingly though, Providence, Rhode Island was a city founded by an exile because the Puritans of Massachusetts were too puritanical.

The cook in my house isn’t a fan of turkey so we’re having roast-chicken and root-vegetables (carrot, corn, and waxy potato) instead. We’ll probably have some homemade cranberry sauce, stuffing, butternut squash, and of course pies. Yes, many mini-pies, I believe we’re scheduled for apple, blueberry, strawberry, and toffee-pecan. I like this time of year. I’ve been listening to my Christmas-music playlist since mid-October.

I’ve noticed that I always write the strangest, most uncharacteristic things on Saturdays. It’s been happening since I started writing this blog many years ago. I don’t know what it is about Saturdays. My schedule isn’t really affected by the weekends, I’m just overtaken by a different muse. Well, here’s to Saturn’s day, a merry god ruling over a golden age of peace and effortless prosperity. And here’s to the week’s end when the cycle is soon to begin again — yet for now we rest.