Qi

At this point, as you know, I find myself in a position in life that’s pretty challenging. Wherever I turn, it seems, I am encountering instability, uncertainty, rejection, loss, and heartache. Love and appreciation, two terms I used in my last entry, are not universal elements that have been flowing my way. Chinese culture uses the term “qi” to denote “life force” or “spiritual energy.” My qi is in decline, I suspect. One small example: I’ve talked about the East Wind here as “spirit-sapping.” Then, on a more profound level, I’ve found myself showing up to a spiritually-bankrupt environment everyday for months now that, I know, has affected me to my core. To turn the corner on my spiritual (as well as my mental, physical & emotional) health, I know deep down that I need to make significant changes. I’m hoping that I can make this happen soon.

I’ve started to visit an acupuncturist. I haven’t done this for a few years, but I’ve begun again in a conscious attempt to alter the decline of my qi. As part of the treatment, my current practitioner uses moxibustion, “a traditional Chinese-medicine technique that involves the burning of mugwort (a small, spongy herb) to facilitate healing.” This practice has been used for thousands of years and, as with most forms of traditional Chinese medicine, is supposed to “strengthen the blood, stimulate the flow of qi, and maintain general health.” The symptoms of peripheral neuropathy I’ve been exhibiting for months motivated me to pursue this course; the physical-therapy techniques I tried, dead-ended. I’m hopeful that I can get back on track, health-wise, this way.

The other changes are up to me. My first priority is job stability and security. As of today, I have three interviews scheduled in the next three weeks. Let’s see what the universe has in store.

Generosity

I spent the night of the science fair sleeplessly. The energy expenditure of the day was considerable, though I guess my adrenaline concentration stemming from the experience was too high to be ignored. Fatigue has turned into utter fatigue as insomnia continues. I’m guessing that this condition only serves to enhance my typical, transitory, post-event post-partum depressive tendencies.

I know that I’m exhausted and overly-emotional. And, as happens to me in this kind of space, I tend to socially withdraw a bit and reflect on my existence. What am I doing here? Is this really my life? What can I change? How can I change?

I was touched by a couple of folks who gave me huge compliments today on my leadership ability. Their comments were exceptionally kind and generous, I thought.

Am I that generous with others? Oh, I would like to think so; but I’m not always so sure. Extending sincere appreciation to those around you, I believe, is a mark not only of exemplary leadership, but of generosity and simple humanity. In whatever form it takes, saying out loud words like “I appreciate you” is a powerful thing. The message can be as significant and affirming as “I love you.”

Can we live without being loved and appreciated? Yes, I guess so, but it makes the difficulty level of life a lot harder.

I frequently think of the May 2002 episode of “ER” that marked the passing of character Dr. Mark Green. (Yes, Jim, again with a TV show!?) Why this comes to mind for me at this particular moment, I’m not sure, except that is has to do with the concept of “generosity.”

In this episode, Mark is near death and he makes the decision to spend his final days in Hawaii. With him are daughter Rachel, wife Elizabeth, and their baby daughter Ella.

The most moving moment, and the one that has kept flashing into my psyche over the years, is his final piece of advice: “Be generous Rachel,” he says, “with yourself, with your life, with your love. Just be generous.”

I would love to be known as a man of integrity – and generosity. For now: I’m working on it.

Soundtrack Suggestion…

And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

(“The Circle Game” – Joni Mitchell)

Twins

Here is a partial transcript produced from a psychic reading held on January 19, 1998, in Eugene, OR. This is the portion of the session speaking to my past-life experiences with Linda Carroll. [As I suggested in the companion post today, this is likely best read for its entertainment value!]

…is because you (and Linda) have been twins. In another time. You were twins one time where you died in utero and she did not. You were both male twins at that time. And so that set up a yearning in other times for the union of that soul again with that soul. And then you were twins, fraternal twins, boy-girl twins and you both lived and you both really worked well together. It was almost like you were mirrors of each other. One was right-handed and one was left-handed. And so the two of you held a balance that was very, very precious and that’s why I’m seeing a deepening in this is the two of you do hold a balance that is very, very precious and the two of you hold a lot of love for one another. You have been also very, very passionate lovers. But not ever living together. What I’m seeing is a time when it’s like the court marriage versus the court love. I’m seeing both of you married … to other people. Other people in the way of uniting families, uniting riches, stopping wars, that sort of thing. But, you and she were also lovers. So that this spark, this passion, kept on and on and on and on, because it was in some ways forbidden? It wasn’t really forbidden, it was tolerated. But if there was any occasion that you had to be seen publicly, you were seen with your wife. And, your nights and your special times were spent with the person who is now known as Linda. Were spent loving and talking and just experiencing each other. You and your wife were both discreet so that there was no big hullabaloo that went along with her relationship with someone else and your relationship with someone else. But the passion and the richness and the desire and everything lasted for a very, very, very, very, very long time. In fact until your deaths. You came together at about the age 16 and you died of old age at that time about 42. That was very old then. And, there was just this spark. And the two of you in some ways have recreated that in this lifetime. And, this ... you both seek each other out more for who you are than anything in the external world… although it’s more a deep friendship. It’s kind of like the fire in the furnace of the basement of a building now. Heating the whole building, kind of coloring your entire life in a way. Because of the presence of this person…

Her Mother's Daughter

In the midst of everything else going on for me right now, I finally have finished reading Linda Carroll’s biography: Her Mother’s Daughter. As I have written about before, I’ve known Linda for over 25 years and identify her as one of the most influential people in my life – indeed, I consider her one of my family on this planet during this lifetime. (I’ve absolutely no idea if she has any thoughts along these lines, though.) She’s served as my counselor, confidante, friend, mentor and spiritual guide – helping me through some very difficult spots. I am incredibly fortunate to have met her and to have had her in my life for (at this point) nearly half my time on earth. Frankly, any attempt to think about this lifetime without Linda in it hardly seems like my life at all.

I first mentioned Linda in these pages after reading Borrowed Finery by Paula Fox. Fox is the famous author of novels and childrens’ books who, early in her life, gave Linda up for adoption. Linda finally tracked her mother down after the birth of granddaughter Frances Bean Cobain. Although quite elderly now, Paula is still alive and she and Linda continue to maintain a relationship begun, belatedly, in the mid-1990s.

In the time I’ve known Linda a lot has happened to her, both personally and in terms of her public notoriety. She is, after all, not only Paula Fox’s daughter, but Courtney Love’s mother. The stormy relationship between Linda and Courtney has been reported in the popular press, up until this time, exclusively through Courtney’s eyes. A number of unflattering and outrageous things have been said about Linda that are totally inconsistent with the good-hearted person that I know and love. Not that I ever really knew much of Linda’s story before reading the book, though; I have only had glimpses into small parts of her life. As my counselor, Linda has been focused on listening to the rhythms of my story, not the other way around. Most of what I know about Linda the person has come through my experience with her in various workshops over the years. The most recent group experience I had with her was about 7 years ago now, in a PAIRS (couples) course led by her and husband Tim.

Now that I’ve finished reading Her Mother’s Daughter, I’ve searched out some of the literary reviews and am discovering that they appear, well, mixed. Some praise Linda’s narrative style and general ability to draw the reader into the drama that has been her life. Others take a more critical stance, sometimes judging her life itself, apparently overwhelmed by the chaotic nature of Linda’s existence. For myself, I was amazed at the detail Linda was able to relate to me, the reader, describing experiences from an age when I would have no memories to draw on at all. Further, I was totally engaged with her writing style, finding it smooth and conversational, mirroring the “real person” that I know her to be.

Of course, upon reading the biography, I tend to agree that Linda’s life has been chaos. And in terms of order of magnitude of lifetime chaotic experiences, her biography rivals her mother’s. As much turmoil as I believe I’ve personally experienced, I admit that my story has had less overall drama than either Paula’s or Linda’s. Linda is on her fourth marriage; she gave birth to six children, one who died as an infant; an adopted child subsequently discovered another home for which he was a better fit; she escaped San Francisco by moving to Oregon, then moved to New Zealand and back to Oregon; her oldest child is Courtney, likely one of the most “out there” celebrities since Madonna’s younger days; and (not covered in the book) she once found herself the therapist for Katherine Ann Power, an activist from the 60s who spent most of her adult life underground.

Zounds: what a life.

I’ve lived my life parallel to a good portion of Linda’s drama, and I have sought out her big heart, attentive ear, and perceptive nature time and time again. She has never said she was not available to me. Whenever I’ve shown up, she’s always been totally present. Truthfully, I only had hints here and there that she was living the life she describes in this book. Even though her own existence has surely been an emotional roller-coaster, she has always been able to focus on me and my story and provide help when I sought her out. Simply, Linda is a human being of the highest caliber. The meaning of the chaos of her life, for me, I now understand, is that she’s always been able to assist me with my own frequently-chaotic existence.

A psychic I once consulted, who relayed to me some of my past-life experiences, reported that Linda and I had been twins at least two times in previous lifetimes. It is, at the very least, an entertaining thought. I know I feel very, very connected to her. My relationship with Linda is one of the most cherished things in my life. I glad she wrote her story so that I can know it: so that I can know her better than I do.

Thank you for being in my life, Linda.

The Science Fair Experience

“Student & Judge”
Mt. Hood Science Expo
February 24, 2006
© 2006 Jim Arnold, Portland, OR

The 2006 Mt. Hood Science Expo (MHSE, the infamous science fair I’ve referred to previously) is now history (well, except for the residual paperwork and escorting the winners to Indianapolis in May). Although the number of actual entries that showed up turned out to be rather modest (around 60), from the feedback I’ve received so far, the event was a rousing success. As with any large get-together of human beings, there were periodic crises that arose throughout the day; all were quickly and efficiently resolved by one or another of us, though.

My army of helpers was both large in number and hugely talented. An inner circle of us wore “Board of Directors” on our name tags…we were the primary planners and implementers. Then, we had professional-level judges who took off from their real jobs and gave us an entire day’s worth of time to talk with student participants and to assess their projects. Further, we recruited a very impressive showing of other volunteers, who did everything from covering the gym floor with a protective mat, to setting-up, tearing-down and carrying the tables. This kind of undertaking takes, at various points, significant amounts intellectual, emotional and physical energy. My jobs were mostly intellectual and emotional, leading me to a point of utter fatigue at the end of the day yesterday. Luckily, I had volunteers who carried on even after the awards ceremony to attend to the cleanup tasks. Some even showed up at the gym at 6:30 a.m. this morning to complete the job!

“Judge Ron Froehlich & Student”

Mt. Hood Science Expo

February 24, 2006

© 2006 Jim Arnold, Portland, OR

We had quite the range of projects. At the top end, we had students who just flat out “knew their stuff,” had done real science, and presented it in a way that the judges could understand and fairly evaluate. It was obvious that these kids were bright, articulate, and headed on their way to someplace significant in life. Wow, what a bunch! Of course, we had some projects on the other end of the spectrum as well. As the day wore on, and it became increasingly obvious that they were not really competitive, I realized I was feeling a little sorry for them. However, during my orientation speech to everybody at the beginning of the day, I had indicated that their science-fair experience was likely to be an intellectually-stimulating and growth-producing one whatever the outcome of their projects. I’m betting that if they didn’t understand me in the morning, some may have caught on to my meaning by the end of the day.

Even though a small core of us were dealing with a research-ethics dilemma as late as 5:00 p.m. — one that decided the last category winner — we still began the awards ceremony only a couple minutes late, a little after 6:00 p.m. That part of the program went quickly and smoothly as well (sigh…if only our Master of Ceremonies was a tad more familiar with some of the names!), so we were actually done ahead of the anticipated schedule.

“Melissa Gonzales McNeal & Valory Thatcher”
Mt. Hood Science Expo Board of Directors
February 24, 2006
© 2006 Jim Arnold, Portland, OR

I am hugely, immensely, beyond-belief indebted to several core people that were my MHSE team. This list includes, but is not limited to: Heather Ohana, Rachelle Ham, Valory Thatcher, Melissa Gonzales McNeal, Doug McCarty, Jack Brook, Jack Fassel, Tom Worcester, Stephanie Jones, and Jill Parisher. Original Board of Directors Member Michael Russell, who found the need to take leave of his responsibilities midway through our planning activities because of family issues, was with us in spirit yesterday, I'm sure. His father died during this last week, and the memorial service was scheduled at the same time as our awards ceremony last night. Michael, our hearts were with you, even though our bodies were not.

Near the end of the day, right before the awards ceremony began, Jill relayed a little story to me that almost brought me to tears. She indicated that she’d been talking the day over with one of the judges who very frequently works these regional fairs, and who had done several in the last few years. Her report to me was that judge said that this was the best-run regional fair he had ever experienced. The flow to our day was well planned-out, and it appeared that the organizers had basically thought of everything to make this a positive experience for everyone.

We tried. And I think we pulled it off. We done good, gang!


“Science & Smiles”

Mt. Hood Science Expo

February 24, 2006

© 2006 Jim Arnold, Portland, OR

“Harmonizing Judges”
Mt. Hood Science Expo
February 24, 2006
© 2006 Jim Arnold, Portland, OR

ps...indeed, the experience was so good that I'd prefer to never have it again!

Validations

“Come On Up”
Santa Fe, New Mexico
August 22, 2005
© 2005 Jim Arnold, Portland, OR

This is a photo from my vacation last summer in New Mexico (taken along Canyon Road in Santa Fe). I’m apparently longing for high desert and the warmth of the sunshine at the moment… (are we detecting a theme here?)

I had conversations with a couple of individuals today that really meant a lot to me. Thanks, especially, to “V.” Such close connections help me cling to my sanity and, at the very least, provide external validation for my “reality.”

The topic of the “east wind” came up three different times today. And we were having a particularly non-eventful day as far as the wind from the Columbia Gorge goes. I think we’re all getting very tired of winter. The east wind, for me, is oppressive. Some would call high summer humidity “oppressive,” but it’s certainly the word that I think applies in describing the wind in this part of the world. One dictionary definition of the word is “overwhelming or depressing to the spirit or senses.” Yes, that would be quite accurate: it’s anxiety-producing and spirit-sapping.

Is it springtime yet?

The Calm After & Before

I guess today was the calm after the storm. I reported last Sunday that the weather was great and I was able to get outside for a walk. We’ve had cold, wind, and just plain miserable weather since then, though, so the last thing I expected to do today was get some time in the sunshine. But, that’s exactly what happened. With a 46-degree temperature and little wind, it felt like a veritable heat wave after what we’ve just been through. So, I got to put in some more time walking about SE Portland, with the iPod hitched to my belt and the headphones delivering the tunes.

Of course, maybe I’m simply deceiving myself about the calm after the storm. With the week I have coming up, it’s perhaps the calm before the storm – but I hope not. This week is the one leading up to the Mt. Hood Science Expo on Friday. I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned this before, but I’m coordinating a regional science fair for high school students. Successful participants are eligible to compete further at the state science fair, the Northwest Science Expo (Portland State University, March 17th), and/or the Intel International Science and Engineering Fair (ISEF, Indianapolis, May 7-13, 2006). This is a very complex event to put together (we’re governed by ISEF rules, which are quite extensive), and it’s also the first time I’ve ever attempted to manage an event like this. It’ll be quite an experience I’m sure. Luckily, I have an incredible group of people working with me. Somehow, we’ll get through it.

Soundtrack Suggestion…

Here comes johnny singing oldies, goldies
Be-bop-a-lua, baby what I say
Here comes johnny singing I gotta woman
Down in the tunnels, trying to make it pay
He got the action, he got the motion
Yeah, the boy can play
Dedication devotion
Turning all the night time into the day

He do the song about the sweet lovin’ woman
He do the song about the knife
He do the walk, he do the walk of life…

[“Walk of Life” – Mark Knopfler (Dire Straits)]

Where Is Home?

“The Monks’ Corner”
Santa Fe, New Mexico
August 17, 2005
© 2005 Jim Arnold, Portland, OR

My niece Anne recently wrote to me with a couple pieces of news. First, she reads my blog! […indicating that mine is one of three she reads on a regular basis, the others being “a joke one about the Pope (written as if he’s writing it... it cracks me up), and one by a NYC taxi driver.” This is truly a woman of eclectic tastes.] Second, she indicates that she’s moving from her current residence in San Francisco to Minneapolis sometime later this year. When I asked her “why?", the answer was simple: Minnesota is home whereas California is not.

Good answer…(!)

Although I was born and raised in the Midwest, it was never home to me. For some reason, I always felt like a misfit there. I moved to Oregon in 1970 three weeks after I graduated from college. The country was experiencing major turbulence at the time, and I made a big change myself by moving far away from my roots. The killings at Kent State occurred on May 4, 1970; I graduated days later wearing an armband over my gown in protest. I left on June 8th for Corvallis and Oregon State University (OSU) and, after driving four and a half days, arrived there on June 12th, on a warm, bright, sunshiny afternoon. I remember it well. From the moment I saw Corvallis and the campus, I knew I was “home.” I don’t know how to explain it; it’s a feeling. But: things were just “right” when I was in “the West.” And, Corvallis, I discovered, was one of those sleepy college towns that I have always just loved.

I lived there for the next twenty years. When I moved to Corvallis to be a graduate student in chemistry, I never suspected I would be a long-term resident of the place. But I was. A lot of my life happened in that town and on that campus. I went through the agony of my divorce there. I earned two degrees there. I transformed myself from a chemist, to a photographer, to a counselor there. I met two of the most influential people in my life there. I loved, and lost again, there. In essence, I grew up there. (OK, it’s still an open question how much I’ve ever grown up…but that’s an essay for another day…) Corvallis is my “home.”

That was one of the arguments I made last spring when I was a candidate for a position with Linn-Benton Community College – at the Benton Center in Corvallis. It was heartbreak time for me when I did not get that job.

Now, I have another shot at finding a home. The position I will be interviewing for in the near future is with OSU. I would not be located in Corvallis should I be the successful candidate (this position is in Bend), but it would be an affiliation that I would love to have: representing a campus community that I have very strong ties to. I’m having a difficult time not getting really enthusiastic about this. Simply: I am excited to have this interview and this opportunity. I hope I’m not jinxing my chances by writing about it here!

I have indicated that I’m ready for the next part of my journey. I am hoping that a big change is just around the corner.

Soundtrack Suggestion…

If you knew that you would die today,
Saw the face of god and love,
Would you change?
Would you change?

If you knew that love can break your heart
When you're down so low you cannot fall
Would you change?
Would you change?

If you knew that you would find a truth
That brings up pain that can't be soothed
Would you change?
Would you change?

If you'd broken every rule and vow,
And hard times come to bring you down,
Would you change?
Would you change?

(“Change” – Tracy Chapman)

Still The Caterpillar

just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly
(-anonymous)

I know that some of you are reading this. I watch that silly counter at the bottom of the page, and the number keeps climbing. I also get weekly statistics on how many pages are viewed and what the length of the average visit is when you stop by. (Currently, there are about 25 pages viewed per day, with an average stay of a little over 4 minutes, in case you’re interested…)

So, yes, I’m vaguely aware that you’re there. Yesterday I heard from a relative here on the West Coast who said she’d been reading my life here ever since my email announcement about the blog awhile back; she also brought me up-to-date on her life a little bit. (Actually, knowing exactly who is reading gets a little embarrassing if I stop to think about it too long!)

But, what a treat to hear from you (any of you!) when you acknowledge that you’re out there and sharing this blogging experience with me! (You know, you could post a little message here yourself…just click on the word “comments” below.)

I received a card from C by snail-mail today that apparently had been sitting in my UPS-store mailbox for a few days. The card contained some encouraging words, sent based on my recent stress over the house a couple weekends back. Also enclosed was one of those inspirational-saying magnets that are nice to keep on the refrigerator door. The words on this one are displayed at the top of this post. This is consistent with what a friend at work reminded me of recently: that sometimes it’s darkest before the dawn.

Whatever metaphor it is that’s most appropriate: universe, I’m ready. I’m ready for the dawn. I’m ready for the metamorphosis. I’m ready for the fork in the road; the next part of the journey. I’m ready for this weight to be lifted. Let’s move on with it: OK?

And, I’m ready for spring. I’m looking forward to that particular transition with great anticipation. It is supposed to get down into the teens tonight here in Portland, before we get a little bit more normal weather again. It has been absolutely frigid here in recent days.

So, I’m ready for: sunshine, warmth, stability, a new home and job.

I am trusting the process. I am breathing in and breathing out. I’m believing that it’s all perfect. And, I’m prepared for the next step, whatever that may turn out to be.

Soundtrack Suggestion…

I want to live where soul meets body
And let the sun wrap its arms around me
And bathe my skin in water cool and cleansing
And feel, feel what its like to be new

Cause in my head there’s a greyhound station
Where I send my thoughts to far off destinations
So they may have a chance of finding a place
Where they’re far more suited than here

I cannot guess what we’ll discover
Between the dirt with our palms cut like shovels
But I know our filthy hand can wash one another’s
And not one speck will remain

I do believe it’s true
That there are roads left in both of our shoes
If the silence takes you
Then I hope it takes me too
So brown eyes I hold you near
Cause you’re the only song I want to hear
A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere

Where soul meets body
Where soul meets body
Where soul meets body

[“Soul Meets Body” – Benjamin Gibbard (Death Cab for Cutie)]

Another Road Trip

As I left work today, I was feeling fairly upbeat about things. I had just concluded a meeting of the Science & Technology Division that, I believe, everybody felt good about. We all had a say in the issue at hand; there was a sense of working together, not at cross-purposes. It’s nice when things just sort of “click” like that.

Of course, even with a good meeting, at the end of a fairly successful day’s work, I still realize that moving on from my current position is required. Life as a temporary worker is not what I want at this stage in my life.

Interestingly, and happily, when I got home I received news that spoke to making a change. I had an email invitation waiting for me to participate in a two-day interview process for a university position I am extremely interested in. It appears that in the next couple of weeks or so (my schedule certainly won’t allow it until after February 24th), I’ll be on the road again.

Is this “the one?”

I don’t know. But if it is, I believe it would be a very good fit. I’m keeping my fingers and toes crossed. Please send good energy my way.

Soundtrack Suggestion…

In this dirty old part of the city
Where the sun refuse to shine
People tell me there ain’t no use in crying
My little girl you’re so young and pretty
And one thing I know is true
You’re gonna die before your time is due
I know
Watch my daddy in bed and tired
Watch his hair been turning gray
He’s been working and slaving his life away…

We gotta get out of this place
If it’s the last thing we ever do
We gotta get out of this place
Girl, there’s a better life for me and you
Oh you know it, baby
And I know it, too, baby
Oh yea

[“We Gotta Get Out of This Place” – Mann/Weil (The Animals)]

Valentine's Day

Here’s a question that was posed at the end of Sunday’s (February 12, 2006) two-part episode of Grey’s Anatomy.

“If you knew this was your last day on earth, how would you spend it?”

Wow, good one, eh?

And, if I were thinking of attempting to provide a personal response to that question here...could I do it? Well, as my fingers keep hitting the keys, I suppose I'm going to try...and, as I’m writing, I’m thinking of this particular holiday...

Only one day?

Actually, I put serious thought into this not long ago as I was in a state of worry and not-knowing about my peripheral-neuropathy symptoms. And, this question has come up other times as well, certainly in times of despair and/or deep introspection about birth, life, health or dying. When I was in the emergency room being mis-diagnosed with bladder cancer, for example, I stared death directly in the face. And, as C was being treated for breast cancer, I thought very deliberately about what I could give to someone I loved if she had a short time remaining.

Then, last summer, a colleague at work died. He was a little younger than me; one day he simply collapsed at his desk. This came about at the time when I was stressed and depressed about the end of a relationship and worrying about my professional fate. And, I was all by myself.

This led me to the thought that I, very well, could die alone, and no one would know or care — well other than a few in my current immediate circle, perhaps. Acting on this fear, I made sure that my assistant had some very important phone numbers in case something happened to me. And, I did one other thing: perhaps impulsively. I wrote a letter to the person I’ve most loved in this life and told her that if I died right now, without saying “I love you” one more time, then that would be a source of eternal grieving for me. I hope she heard and understood.

So, what would I do with my last day, if I knew it was my last day? On this Valentine’s Day, especially, I have to believe that saying “I love you” to her, and everyone, would be at the top of my list.

Soundtrack Suggestion…

Gonna close my eyes
Girl and watch you go
Running through this life darling
Like a field of snow
As the tracer glides
In its graceful arc
Send a little prayer out to ya
’cross the falling dark…

Tell the repo man
And the stars above
You’re the one I love
You’re the one I love
The one I love

(“The One I Love” - David Gray)

Good Day Sunshine

To say that I have had some mood swings lately, would be putting it mildly. Most recently, the house-selling scare last weekend sort of sent me over the edge. And, this physical “bug” I’ve had for some time now still has me on antibiotics. The weather definitely has not helped. Winter weather, that is. It has really gotten to me this year. First: wind and cold. Then weeks and weeks of grey and rain. Then back to another giant, prolonged windstorm this last week.

I had seasonal affective disorder before it had a name. Even growing up in Wisconsin, where there’s lots of sunshine during the winter months, I had an affective disorder…whenever it was winter.

I remember growing up with the bitter cold and huge drifts of snow, thinking and saying out loud: “people don’t have to live like this.” And, I’m of the mind, finally, after 35 years in Oregon, that I rather believe that about this place. Especially now, living at this end of the Columbia Gorge, with the wind howling down from the East: who needs this!?

I’ve hung on for dear life this winter…and then, today, as I’m emerging back into health, it’s a miracle: a sunshiny day! With no wind. Amazing.

I was able to hitch my iPod to my belt, dial up my Beatles’ playlist set to shuffle, and hit the sidewalks. It was a totally great afternoon for a walk, so I did just that.

It is so dramatic the impact that sunlight and blue skies has on mood. How in the world did Lewis & Clark ever, ever survive that winter at Fort Clatsop?

On a day like today, as I completed another job application and got some fresh air in the sunshine, anything seems possible. Life seems good.

Well, at least for the time being.

Soundtrack Suggestion...

Good day sunshine, good day sunshine,
Good day sunshine.
I need to laugh, and when the sun is out,
I’ve got something I can laugh about…

We take a walk, the sun is shining down,
Burns my feet as they touch the ground,
Good day sunshine, good day sunshine,
Good day sunshine.

(“Good Day Sunshine” - Lennon/McCartney)

Spiritual Practice

Another low-energy Saturday is drawing to a close. I awoke late, had breakfast out, and came home to prepare job applications. Two are in the works today: one for an academic dean position locally, and the other my first-ever application for a presidency (in Arizona, land of blessed sunshine and warmth!).

It’s been a quiet, lonely day, but at least much less stressful than last week at this time when I received the news about this house being sold and I believed I was going to have to start packing up immediately.

I have been thinking about relationship possibilities today, at least a little bit. My Match.com membership recently led me to a free charter membership in Chemistry.com, another online matching (I hesitate to call it “dating”) service. The Chemistry.com process reminds me a little of the eHarmony.com experience: there’s an initial questionnaire, and then matching based on the results of the profiles that are produced. I received several initial “matches” that seemed quite improbable, but then one finally came along that intrigued me. “E” and I have been working our way through the structured process for a week now, a little bit every evening, and we’ve decided to have lunch tomorrow. I may or may not write anything more about this: who knows…

I am reminded that:

The people we are in relationship with are always a mirror, reflecting our own beliefs, and simultaneously we are mirrors reflecting their beliefs.

So relationship is one of the most powerful tools for growth…if we look honestly at our relationships we can see so much about how we have created them.

Shakti Gawain in Creative Visualization

My significant relationships have, indeed, been the most powerful tools for personal growth and development: so much so, that I define relationship as a primary “spiritual practice.” With all the uncertainty in my life, it would seem not-so-wise to consider beginning anything at this time. But, who knows. I have no expectations. I will continue to see where the universe leads me.

Why Study Science?

[What follows is an edited version of an email I sent to the science faculty at the college today. The task at hand, quite simply, is to propose a small number of goals for the study of the natural sciences.]

In my humble opinion, this is important stuff. By identifying and articulating "goals for the natural sciences" we are saying "who we are." Do we know who we are? If we don't, or if our answer keeps changing, isn't it valuable to engage in thinking about this every so often? And shouldn't we be publicly proclaiming who we are and what we do by identifying our goals?

I found myself reacting, initially, to one of the proposed goals in the email we received from Jack, i.e., "demonstrate application of the scientific method to real world." I would hope that we could eliminate from consideration a goal that uses such a pedestrian term as the "real world." This, to me, connotes that there is, indeed, a discreet, identifiable, knowable, and objective "reality" — a concept entirely at odds with most everything we can infer from the field of quantum physics. We have come a long way in the manner in which we define our physical world, from a "scientific" viewpoint, just in the time I have been alive. When I was an undergraduate chemistry student, the only application of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle that I knew of referred to the position and momentum of an electron: the better we were able to determine the position, the less we knew about its momentum. I'm sure we still teach that. However, in more recent times, Heisenberg is cited widely in all areas of inquiry, namely that we now assume the mere observation of a phenomenon fundamentally changes it. That brings me back to "what is the 'real world' anyway?"

I initially became an organic chemist because it was, at that time, my way of "knowing the world." My experience of the universe had a lot more to do with chemical kinetics and reaction mechanisms of carbon-based molecules than it did with anything having to do with human beings. I was darn good at what I did back then, publishing several articles as a grad student, but one of the reasons I moved on to explore other things in my life, is that I truly believed that there was more than one way of knowing the world and I wanted to continue "knowing" as much, and in as many ways, as I could. People had always fascinated me, and I eventually moved on from researching reaction mechanisms to inquiring about individual-, group- and organizational-dynamics.

Which brings us to "knowing." The primary epistemological question is: what does it mean to know? (or: what is knowledge?) This is the question of continuing, and endless, philosophical debate. A question that fascinates me. Do you have an answer to what it means "to know" something? Were you, like me, attracted to science because you wanted to know, inquire, research, explore?

If so, shouldn't we be saying something in our goals for the natural sciences that speaks directly to why and how we inquire into our physical universe (note I didn't say "reality"). What else we should be identifying as goals, I'm not entirely sure... so I don't really have a definitive set of goal statements that would replace the ones we received. I do know there is language out there, proposed by other science departments, that probably more closely match my world view, however.

For example, the General Education Core Curriculum of the State of Illinois, states that the purpose for studying science is to:
● develop students' understanding of the methods of scientific inquiry, including the formulation and testing of hypotheses;
● familiarize students with selected scientific principles in the physical and life sciences;
● enable students to make informed decisions about personal and societal issues.

OK, well, maybe this is enough of a monologue for today! (I think there was a point to all of this.) I would like you all to participate. I would like for us to examine who we are as scientists. And I would like to translate all of that into goals for the sciences that we feel comfortable with in our public declaration.

I welcome your thoughts, ideas, opinions, and competing views...

Red-Light Time

OK, I guess I’ll go ahead and admit it now. When I got the news from my landlords on Saturday that the house was being sold: I cried. Right then and there. I was absolutely overwhelmed — very anxious about how I was going to manage my life with all that’s going on.

It was a good thing to remind myself that control is an illusion. I really did need to remember to keep breathing, too.

After three and a half anxiety-ridden days, the house sold last night within the first hour of it being shown. Fortunately, the new owner (assuming the deal closes) intends to keep the house as a rental, and my current landlords took care of me; I now have the guarantee of renting month-to-month until the end of June. Maybe, just maybe, this buys me the time I need to secure a new position and move on in an orderly fashion.

Hear that? It’s a (huge) sigh of relief.

I wish I could have kept reminding myself, moment to moment, better than I did, to breathe. I was anxious and depressed these last few days, and was sensing that I might backslide in terms of whatever it is that my body has been fighting. However, after a rather decent night’s sleep last night, I feel better today.

And, I’ve decided to take another approach to the muscular issues that have been plaguing my legs. The massage, ultrasound, and chiropractic adjustments have not solved my problem, so I went to an acupuncturist today to see if that would work. I’m crossing my fingers. I’m very comfortable with her technique, so we’ll see what a few visits can do.

I keep trying for the right metaphor for my life right now. As I was driving to work this morning, I realized that I was having a “good drive” in that I was hitting mostly green lights. Some days are just like that. Other days, you just can’t seem to win…it’s red light, after red light, after red light. My life right now is a one-red-light-after-another experience. It’s go and stop. Can’t get up to speed. Taking forever to get there. (Wherever “there” is. I’m still figuring that out.)

Breathing Lessons

Wow, am I ever going through a range of feelings here. Really: I know my troubles are minor (in fact, of no cosmic significance whatsoever) compared to a person displaced by a Hurricane Katrina or other kind of disaster. I know that. But, here I am, banished again: going through a very significant emotional reaction to my circumstances. I am fairly distraught about being handed yet another piece of paper that necessitates me radically, and involuntarily, changing my life.

I talked yesterday about the illusion of control, and I really believe that. I know that anything even resembling control in our lives is purely coincidental. But I surely would like to feel more in charge of my destiny than I do at the current moment.

I had another meeting tonight about the timetable of this current displacement. It would appear that I have a couple of months or so to sort through my life, pack things up, and move into someplace new. Who knows, maybe by that time I’ll know exactly where I’m going. It’s not that likely, given how things have transpired for me lately, but I suppose it’s at least in the realm of possibility.

What I need to do:
Breathe.
Take it a day at a time.
Breathe.
Go for a walk.
Breathe.
Keep showing up.
Breathe.
Finish the next application.
Breathe.
Go to meditation group.
Breathe.
Find her.
Breathe.
Keep writing.
Breathe.
Take a hot bath.
Breathe.
Go for a drive.
Breathe.
Keep trusting that the universe will provide.
Breathe.
Appreciate life.
Breathe.

The Illusion of Control

Listen to your life. It’s showing you everything you need to know about who you can become. (Messiah’s Handbook)

Isn’t it amazing how it's possible that life can turn on your next conversation — or unexpected phone call, email or piece of paper? One minute the world is this way, the next it is something entirely different. The phone call I’ve been waiting for, obviously, is a job offer. Although I’m gainfully employed, I’ve been searching for that “permanent” position for two years now. It hasn’t arrived yet.

But, that’s not the phone call that came this weekend. The voicemail from my landlords this morning was news that the house I’m renting from them is going to be sold. Out from under me. I’ll have some as-yet-undetermined time period after the sale to move out. But, it will very likely be in a month or little more. I was handed a piece of paper outlining the intent to sell, the terms of working with the realtor, and the notice that I’ll need to move my body and possessions to some other location. Soon.

“Jim, it’s not personal, it’s business,” they said, as I was flashing back to Al Pacino in The Godfather, and Tom Hanks in You’ve Got Mail.

Of course, I’ve had other conversations, phone calls, and pieces of paper that have totally shifted the universe. One of those, obviously, would be the notice I received that August night in 1983: “Mr. Arnold, I’m sorry, you are under arrest for driving under the influence of intoxicants…”

Another would be the email I received from C in October 1999 that said: “Had my annual today. Found a lump. More tests Thursday... Needing good thoughts.”

Or, the emergency room doctor who (mis)diagnosed me with bladder cancer — but was very convincing in his (ultimately erroneous) opinion.

And, of course, there was the paper from the Board of Higher Education terminating my employment with the Chancellor’s Office in the Spring of 2004.

Now, today’s news is not exactly a life and death situation, though with my current energy level, this development seems pretty overwhelming. On top of my regular job, and my job as a job-hunter, I now have to find a new residence, pack up, and move while I continue to look for “real” work.

It would appear that I am being challenged. I am experiencing the opportunity to find out what I’m made of.

Why did I choose this? What am I supposed to be learning here?

Let me guess: it must be about one of my lifetime issues.

Control. It’s all an illusion.

The Pursuit of Happiness

You may have caught on: I’m a worrier. I think a lot; I emote a lot. Not that I’m really obsessive, but perhaps there’s a tendency in that direction?

And, I’m a planner: organized and always thinking ahead.

These various elements of my personality seem to collide, in that it’s not a stretch for me to go, in my mind, to “catastrophizing,” that is, thinking about the future and saying to myself “this has disaster written all over it.”

I have an uncertain job situation. I have an infection. I have a muscular or nerve issue in my leg. I have a life alone. I spend all my “free time” trying to find a job. I have trouble sleeping. I need prostate surgery. I don’t have time to pursue my art.

Oh, my, I guess I could keep going…you get the picture, though: worry, worry, worry! (or, maybe: whine, whine, whine?)

Where’s the room for happiness in all that?

When I was about to lose my position with the Chancellor’s Office, J asked me once, “well, what’s the worst that could happen?” Of course, I went straight to catastrophe and saw myself homeless, on a street corner, holding a cardboard sign saying “WILL ORGANIZE THINGS FOR FOOD.”

There’s a lot of uncertainty in my future right now. But, of course, isn’t there uncertainty in everyone’s? I just read that two tornadoes hit New Orleans today! Yikes! What in the world is going on?

I guess, really, no one here gets out alive.

J’s question remains a good one. “What’s the worst?” Here’s where I think the question has its origin:

When some misfortune threatens, consider seriously and deliberately what is the very worst that could possibly happen. Having looked this possible misfortune in the face, give yourself sound reasons for thinking that after all it would be no such terrible disaster. Such reasons always exist, since at the worst nothing that happens to oneself has any cosmic importance. When you have looked for some time steadily at the worst possibility and have said to yourself with real conviction, “well, after all, that would not matter so very much,” you will find that your worry diminishes to a quite extraordinary extent. It may be necessary to repeat the process a few times, but in the end, if you have shirked nothing in facing the worst possible issue, you will find that your worry disappears altogether and is replaced by a kind of exhilaration.

Bertrand Russell
The Conquest of Happiness

Compassion

As I continue the path to wellness: I spent the morning at the doctor’s office and pharmacy. The best guess is that my viral infection has morphed into bacterial. I’m currently on antibiotics and a cough-supressant. Now we’ll see what happens!

After I got home, I opened up the Messiah’s Handbook to see if there was any new wisdom for me there today. The first thing that appeared (though I did a little shopping around on other pages later, not knowing what to make of this one at first) was:

How easy it is to be compassionate
when it’s yourself you see in trouble!

So, let me think about this a minute. Well, OK, I actually do see myself in some trouble. My position at work is a temporary one, and I’m feeling very insecure about that. I’ve been quite ill lately, and along with that, an emotional downturn certainly has me seeing the glass half-empty. I keep interviewing for jobs, and not getting them. And, I’ve felt some loneliness in the last year that has rarely crept up on me like this.

The question now is: has it been easy for me to be compassionate? Just because it’s me? Really, I’m not sure how compassionate I have been with myself. I possess an often self-critical tendency that does not necessarily seem consistent with compassion. Perhaps the lesson for the day is to focus more on self-love and acceptance.