Record Highs in Holland
I think I've forgotten to mention that the entire country of Holland has seen record high temperatures for the month of October, as well as records for the most sunny days! It has not only been visually spectacular since I arrived 4 days ago, but it's been too warm for anything but a t-shirt and jeans (except for at night)!Today Carol Lynn and I took an absolutely breathtaking bike ride parallel to the Rhine River, then sat down at an old historic home for coffee/chocolate milks...later on, we went to an International Club "Soul" music/food party and danced again! An altogether satisfying day...off to do some english tutoring, then take a train to Belgium tomorrow... | posted by Cheryl, 10/30/2005 12:39:00 PM | 1 comments |
"The Flow"
I've been interested in this concept of a "flow state" ever since I read about it in a psych class waaaay back during my college years (hehe). Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (say that 5 times fast!) came up with this term to describe that feeling when you become so completely absorbed in the project at hand that time seems to stand still.In his words, it's "being completely involved in an activity for its own sake. The ego falls away. Time flies. Every action, movement, and thought follows inevitably from the previous one, like playing jazz. Your whole being is involved, and you're using your skills to the utmost."
Typically, it occurs when the project at hand is just outside your set of expertise or comfort zone (actually, video games are a perfect example, as they constantly adjust to push you beyond your individual level). This particular facet of flow has helped me be able to understand why I often feel unsatisfied with activities that are supposed to be relaxing or satisfying (of course, i'm not against some mindless entertainment or just "vegging" when you've just pushed yourself a lot, so context does matter here).
Anyway, on this trip thus far, the majority of my most satisfying moments have shown the above characteristics; two of them happened today!
Firstly, I went off for a 2 hour bike ride to help me get situated here in Wageningen and, of course, enjoy the plentiful, well-maintained bike paths and warm sunshine (not typical for this time of year!). It was great to push myself a bit physically, while also staying mentally alert and attentive to my surroundings (I'm going to need to be so I don't get lost!).
I eventually found myself at the local university's long stretches of fields (which reminded me a bit of Iowa, but greener!). The awesome thing about them was that they had these small, unobtrusive concrete bike trails going through them, so I spent a lot of time just riding through the fields, away from the cars and, for the most part, other people! It was exactly the type of non-tourist activity I was craving after Ireland (but I blame no one but myself for the fact that I did lots of touristy things, some of them to good effect).
Secondly, my aunt and I sat down and poured over her incredible paper collection in order to make some christmas cards! The creativity involved in visual arts can sometimes be so maddening and frustrating, but at other times can flow better than almost anything else (other than sports, for me). Tonight, it was just so much fun - Carol Lynn and I compared ideas but also enjoyed periods of silence while we remained engrossed in the creative process. We definitely lost track of time and were almost late to an engagement this weekend! I'm looking forward to more of that during the rest of the trip... | posted by Cheryl, 10/29/2005 06:13:00 PM | 2 comments |
...and then i did the "YMCA" (or, "Context is SO underrated!")
So, there I was again, this time at a salsa club in Arnhem, Netherlands (whereas last time it was a pub in Dublin, Ireland): the music was great, the setting was energetic, but I felt out of place and mad at myself for not trying harder to make connections with those around me (of course, the language barrier's here now, but most ppl speak English).I'm proud of myself, because this time I actually approached someone to ask them to dance, but they turned me down (thus proving the hierarchical vibes of salsa - I later saw that this man was an advanced dancer). Nevertheless, instead of going at it again, I remained "in the bleachers" for the majority of the time; I will say I deeply enjoyed hearing the live music and dancing the meringue (sp?) with my aunt multiple times, but I was disappointed that I didn't push myself further to get what I wanted (a dance partner, or some carefree fun!). Where was the funky chicken? Could I, in effect, undo all the work I'd done to do the funky chicken just a week ago?
Alas, don't fear, children, for the story has a happy ending.
After watching my cousin Max do an awesome dance performance (a fusion of salsa, hip-hop and breakdancing) while the band rested, my aunt and I headed over to a smaller, local dance sponsored by the local University's International Club (it has 3,000 students, 1,000 of which are international ones). The vibe was much more relaxed; everyone had something in common, which was that they were connected to the university in some way. The music was just great, because the DJ selected stuff from all around the world - one minute it would be Michael Jackson, the next a local Columbian song, the next an Indian song, and the next, of course, the YMCA (how does everyone worldwide know this?)!
I found it so easy to just approach people or join a group of people swaying to the music and go with the flow. I was even comlimented on my dancing skills! Alas, if only the man who denied me a dance could have seen me then!
The moral of the story, my friends, is that context is essential. It's not just your attitude in your situation that counts, but the situation you choose to put yourself in (I should have known this after the great swing dancing night in Dublin, where I felt totally confident and comfortable). I vow to remember this in my future endeavors as i traipse across Europe! | posted by Cheryl, 10/29/2005 05:54:00 PM | 2 comments |
Breaking up takes (worthwhile) effort, just like getting together takes effort!
I'm amazed at how many people see breaking up as this clean process, where you just have this flash of insight and, in effect, rip a band-aid and then it's over.Of course, that attitude certainly has it's place (especially when someone has made a significant mistake such as cheating, you've been dealing with it for so long that it's better for both to just stop talking about the break-up, or it's just incredibly mutual), but I think for the majority the process is tricky, ambiguous, and requires a lot of effort, just like getting together does!
We often forget after things have settled into their routine how many questions we had those first few weeks of dating/being together: does the person feel the same way about me? How will I fit into his/her life and vice versa? Is this the right time in life for me to be getting into a relationship? Do they want to see me as much as I want to see them? When should we have, "the conversation?"
The anxiety in those times, because it's peppered with so many highs, often actually adds to the moments of happiness; breaking up involves similar questions, but this time the anxiety associated with the ambiguities often kindles frustration. Should we stay in contact? Is this really the right thing, or could we have worked it out? Does he/she feel the same way I do? Was this worth it in the first place (always yes, for me!)?
The questions are typically very specific to the particular relationship, but I really like the idea that you have to "create" a break-up just like you have to create a relationship. Relationships don't just happen because you fall in love; conversely, break-ups don't just happen when situational forces or feelings change.
The tricky area occurrs when you start from scratch and simultaneously build a friendship and romantic relationship, and then feel it's right to break up (like with Suraj and I right now), because you don't want to completely inverse the equation; I don't want to un-create the friendship aspects, but it's necessary to taper off the romantic ones.
This requires some effort, and I think most couples/former couples choose to just throw the baby out with the bathwater; the anxieties and negative feelings associated with breaking up understandably make people just not want to deal with it anymore and feel bitter. That's sad to me because I think in many instances (well, this one in particular) you can still bring so many positive things to each other's lives (why else did you get together in the first place?) that it's worth the effort to try to create something new from it.
I'm so happy Suraj and I stuck through the ambiguities and frustrating factors that have arisen this past week (of course, we had predominantly positive interactions but those negative forces did come into play), because we've gotten to a point where I think we'll be able to retain a lot of the positive aspects of our relationship while remaining broken up. It's so funny how few words we have for these things - we didn't lose a "relationship," we just changed how we "relate" to each other! I have to give him a lot of credit for this, he's been amazing all around.
Of course, one might say that was easier in our case because the reasoning for the break-up was predominantly situational (although other factors did come into play), but I would hope that the same concept could apply for many couples.
Also, I have been pretty up and down about the ordeal, so perhaps I'll read this tomorrow and feel that I was being overly optimistic...for now, though, this is my 2 cents! | posted by Cheryl, 10/28/2005 04:10:00 PM | 0 comments |
Hairbrushes, chocolate cereal, and other small details of my life
I always like knowing the little details of peoples' lives when they're travelling rather than just what they've seen that day. Thus, I feel compelled to give you all (whoever you are...or should I just say, "Mom?") some windows into my day to day life as a quasi-backpacker:1) I forgot a hairbrush! It's made surprisingly little difference, actually...
2) In Holland, they have...(drumroll please)...Special K cereal with CHOCOLATE! Or, shall I say, "Pure chocolade?" The hilarious thing is, similar to in the US, they have this campaign where you're meant to lose 5 pounds by eating one bowl of Special K cereal for 2 meals a day and being healthy on the other one. Excuse me? One bowl is never enough, even when accompanied by fruit, toast with peanut butter, and juice! Oh well, I can't blame them for trying, and anyone who associates chocolate, cereal and dieting can be invited to my birthday party any day.
3) I think for half of my time in Ireland I survived on a diet of digestive biscuits (http://www.bestdeal.org/Merchant2/merchant.mvc?Screen=PROD&Product_Code=M278358&Category_Code=3&Store_Code=BritishDepotRetailNEW), "The Natural Confectionary Company" gummies (http://www.tncc.com.au/sites/tncc/), bananas, peanut butter, and Cadbury's chocolate (http://www.cadbury.co.uk/EN/CTB2003/). This might help put the "Irish stew" experience in better context. Being in Holland with my aunt, I've now discovered vegetables and whole foods again (again, this is for mom!).
4) Having a castle all to oneself is fun! Today, my aunt and I went to this castle not more than 10 minutes away called "Doorwerp" or something (i can't remember, i'll update it later!), and i'm sure by some objective castle-ranking standard it would seem small, but we had such a blast just walking around the moat, going inside and learning how the castle had been bombed in WW2 and then built up again, seeing the old-styled kitchen with a funky 3 tiered egg holder and funny looking kitchen implements, and viewing the paintings from the 17-18th century in their actual context (I don't typically enjoy that style of painting, but it made sense in the castle). The whole thing was made of brick, which also just struck me as unique and very Dutch!
5) I suppose i got off the everyday life topic for a second - I should also add that I have more than doubled my weekly average shower per day ratio after being in Holland for only 36 hours (I did this by taking one shower in 1 1/2 days...you can do the math!).
6) I'm such a talker that being my myself for periods of time has allowed me to actually just listen to my thoughts and be more observant about the world around me...I find myself creating whole worlds around the people I see dining in the table next to me, or going off on long daydreams about what life would have been like had I been a famous operatic singer by age 18...it's been interesting, to say the least!
7) No one cares. In a good way, I mean! That's just usally the response I've come to when I start to feel self-conscious about something (such as the fact that I'm wearing clip-on glasses over my prescriptions). It's so much easier to say that when I know I'm not going to see most people again, but I hope it continues when I come home! I've always loved the phrase, "People wouldn't wonder what others think of them so much if only they knew how little they actually did!" Travelling in a foreign country definitely reinforces that.
8) Perhaps the countries/cities that I have the hardest time pronouncing are the ones I should push myself to visit...? I'm not sure, but the more I hear about Eastern Europe, the more I want to plan something for there...of course, not until after Belgian chocolate and waffles... | posted by Cheryl, 10/28/2005 02:50:00 PM | 0 comments |
Laughter knows no language
Well, I'm sure this is an observation that's been made thousands of times before, but now that I'm in a non-English speaking country it's hit me that laughter is just...laughter, regardless of the language one speaks!This hit me when I was grocery shopping with my aunt last night and saw some teenagers talking and laughing outside the shop. At first I just felt comforted by the sound of laughter because i could understand it, and then as I listened closer I found I could also surmise whether their laughter was forced or genuine - isn't that interesting?
There's so much about facial expressions that are similar across human beings regardless of language, it seems (of course, given my own observations I can only speak for western europe and my experiences in australia/central america, but from what i've read in some psych books i recall that facial expressions are similar across the human species).
I will try to remember this as, from now on, I'll be in non-english speaking countries! I've been doing research and am trying to blend a healthy mix of classic european-trip stuff (Italy, Switzerland) with some lesser known places (Hungary? Czech republic? Poland?), while having home bases here in Holland and then Turkey...I'll keep you posted! For now, I'm happy chilling with my aunt and catching up with my cousins - we saw a really gorgeous brick castle today and are going to check out the market tomorrow! | posted by Cheryl, 10/28/2005 10:38:00 AM | 0 comments |
Holland = lots of bikes
The sun shone on Holland today. My aunt Carol Lynn and I put on our sunlasses and joined the throngs of Dutch bikers utilizing the multiple, beautifully structured bike paths that lined the gorgeous, tree-lined streets!I love this country. I love thatched roofs, windmills, the flat land and the tall trees, and the WATER everywhere! We went to this gorgeous wetlands area, which of course can't be described without a visual component(i can't wait to figure out how to put my pictures up on this site).
I couldn't believe all the bikes everywhere - at the train station, there must have literally been 600. The combination of flat, picturesque lands and ridiculously high gas prices has fed into this cyclist-friendly culture where it's just expected that you bike to the market/grocery store rather than drive.
Along with saving the fuel, I've noticed that western europeans (well at least the brits and dutch) don't use plastic bags nearly as much as we do in the states - in fact, in Ireland there is a 15 euro cent charge on every plastic bag you use! When you put a price on it, it certainly makes you realize how much you waste. Go, Holland! | posted by Cheryl, 10/27/2005 08:49:00 AM | 0 comments |
Book quote of the week
One of the things I often forget about travelling is that all those transition periods (sitting on buses, trains, and planes) allow ample opportunity for good reading!Here's a selection from one of the most original, exciting authors I've read: Tom Robbins (from "Still Life With Woodpecker," his first novel). He tends to write delectible sentences such as, "Her hair, as straight and red as ironed ketchup, rode gravity's one-way ticket all the way to her waist." However, in one of my favorite passages, he gets a bit earnest (while still retaining a healthy dose of silliness):
"Humans are the most advanced of mammals-although a case could be made for the dolphins-because they seldom grow up. Behavioral traits such as curiosity about the world, flexibility of response, and playfulness are common to practically all young mammals but are usually rapidly lost with the onset of maturity in all but humans. Humanity has advanced, when it has advanced, not because it has been sober, responsible, and cautious, but because it has been playful, rebellious, and immature."
Now, when taken literally this concept of course doesn't hold true, but I really enjoyed the overall point! I hope I can always retain a good level of curiosity and interest in all the wonders of life, whether they be old ruins I'm exploring on my trip or just the undeniably cool process by which instant jello transforms from a liquid to...well, a jello! Life is amazing. I don't always feel this way - in fact, i didn't just 5 minutes ago, but I'm going to enjoy it while it's here... | posted by Cheryl, 10/27/2005 08:35:00 AM | 0 comments |
music defies words
Tonight I listened to some Irish music in the most incredible multi-layered bar with all of this old, different colored wood, carvings, stained glass windows, merry Irish-people making "craik" (pronounced "crack," a term referring to the witty banter you usually get at bars), international backpackers, and, most of all, 4 musicians on guitars and drums. It's so frustrating to describe music, so I'll just leave it at this - i can't think of a better way to end my 3 night stay in Galway, Ireland! Off to Cork tomorrow, then Holland... | posted by Cheryl, 10/25/2005 05:25:00 PM | 0 comments |
"Daylight Robbery"
So, has anyone ever wondered where the phrase, "daylight robbery" comes from? I didn't, until my tour guide asked us this morning.Apparently, Ireland used to have a tax on window glass, which explains why so many older homes have teeny, tiny windows. One day, this guy in Galway (where i'm currently residing) asks his wife for a saw and starts cutting his door in half. "What the bloody 'el are you doing?" she asked (er, that was a bit English rather than Irish, but you get the idea). He didn't say a word until he was done and had attached a hinge to the door, so the lower half could stay closed while the top half opened up and let light into the house. Needless to say, wifey was pleased!
Thus, those two part doors came not from an aesthetic sensibility but rather from a practical, universal human desire (of course, i'm referring to the desire to save money!). I LOVE stories like that about how inventions came about! All is well in Galway, off to Cork tomorrow, then Holland Thursday (the 27th)... | posted by Cheryl, 10/25/2005 11:19:00 AM | 0 comments |
I left my heart in an Irish Stew
When in Dublin, I began to question the authenticity of my alleged Irish heritage when my taste buds mounted a collective revolt against the taste of the vile liquid that is "Guiness Beer." However, my identity crisis was laid to rest today as I lunched on an Irish Beef Stew at O'Connor's pub in the tiny town of Doolin.Our tour bus unloaded at O'Connors after 5 hours of sightseeing in a region known as 'The Burren' (for those geology/history dorks, see http://www.galway.net/galwayguide/visit/burren/ ). I stepped inside, wiped off my glasses, and bravely ordered the Beef Stew (despite being a habitual chicken/fish consumer). I wasn't sure what to expect when the lovely, old, reddish white-haired Debrah brought it over (an authentic Irish person! I'm home!). It brought a new meaning to the word stew - the beef was thick, not soupy, and formed a moat around a lone potato in the middle of the bowl. Carrots swimmed in the succulent beef...well, at least before taking a dive down my satiated throat and esophagus...
Good food, of course, tastes better with good company, which a 27 year-old Kiwi (from New Zealand) named Linley provided. We bonded over travel experiences, compared notes on where we wanted to go next, discussed the relative merits of ski jackets versus more fashionable wear, occupations (she's an OT - one of the 12 job paths i'm considering!); but, above all, we ate.
And it was GOOD! | posted by Cheryl, 10/24/2005 04:03:00 PM | 1 comments |
...and then i did the funky chicken
So, last night (my last in Dublin) I found myself unable to sleep after a great 3 hours of awesome swing dancing at a local bar/dance (it was by far the least touristy thing I did whilst in Dublin, so I felt proud of that)...I was muching on some digestives in the hostel common room/kitchen when Pablo (a nice gent from Uruguay) and his friends invited me out on the town...it was 1:30 AM and I wasn't tired, so i thought, why not?There we were, an American, the French, Spaniards, Polish, Uruguayans, Argentineans, Isralies, Italians, Australians, wandering the Temple Bar district amongst other internationals and, of course, the (by this time staggering and drunk) Irish. We found our way into the 'Mezz,' where conicidentaly I had spent an evening eating alone and feeling sorry for myself 2 days past.
The scene was straight from a movie (an AWESOME movie) - a 5 person FUNK BAND, blasting out hits from George Clinton, James Brown, and more, along with Motown favorites. I was in heaven, and I couldnt' help but compare the experience to mine of just 2 nights ago...where I had previously sat, tired and alone, I now did the funky chicken and felt generally merry. I suppose the point of this is that I needed to actually use the hostel as more than a resting place - i needed to meet people rather than expecting them to just come up to me, and when this happened, i finally felt like myself again!
Unfortunately, that's all I have time for now - i'm presently in the western part of the country and will write more soon! | posted by Cheryl, 10/23/2005 10:48:00 AM | 0 comments |
Travel intensifies the highs and lows of life
Well, it doesn't have to, but in my case it has; along with travel, I'd say this is also true of "new" experiences, such as moving to a new town, starting college, etc.I'm in Dublin right now, writing from a busy internet cafe, and after almost 48 hours in the city the lonliness and frustration of travelling for 27 hours (from when i left for the airport in seattle tuesday morning to arriving at the hostel wednesday night) have finally started to wear off!
I felt terribly self-absorbed and wimpy, but to be honest the flights over and first night/day here were extremely low for me. Trying to fall asleep on my hostel bed, I felt a very similar rush of feelings as I did on my first nights at college, Australia, and Belize: where am i? what am i doing here? how much more comfortable is my bed at home? will i make friends? how will i make the hours go by? (I also questioned some personal decisions regarding my relationship with Suraj, which I'd rather not go into now.)
The thing was, this time there wasn't any routine in my forseeable future - at college i knew i'd make friends because a bunch of people my age and in my situation lived nearby (same in australia and belize), but even at a hostel, where there are other young people, it seemed unlikely that i'd meet people who would be on the same schedule as I; I got this impression after meeting about 8 people, most of whom were living at the hostel while working short term jobs and looking for houses or were going in different directions after Dublin.
I hope some of this negativity could be attributed to jet-lag, because it felt very unlike me. Where was the optimism? Where was the girl who loves penguins and cartoons - or maybe I needed to grow up? Isn't travelling supposed to be exciting rather than scary? It's funny, I'm told over and over again that the hard times are the ones where you learn something about yourself, but i feel my least lucid, thoughtful or self-aware when i'm in a negative state. Perhaps it's the times after the lows that we really learn, I'm not sure.
Anyway, there is a more happy note end to the story - with the help of some great conversations back home with Suraj and with people I've met here in Dublin today, I've regained some of my characteristic jovialness! I have walked ALL over this city, which is full of the characteristic western-european mixture of neoclassical architecture, quaint homes, pubs, and some great historical monuments and statues, and have been on a few interesting tours where i've met people from all over the world. I'm going on a "literary pub crawl" tonight with some canadians i met, and enjoyed lunch today with a couple on their honeymoon! Some might say it would be "good" for me to learn to be alone, but what i learned while alone is that i like to be with people, so that is my rationale!
Dublin is a much more cosmopolitan city than I expected, and believe it or not it reminds me of New York at times (with the crowded streets)! I'm looking forward to a day trip to the countryside tomorrow, then a longer stay in the western part of the country starting on Sunday (1/3 of the country's population, or 1 million people, live in Dublin, so the rural areas are very different - I have yet to see a sheep, I must sadly admit!). I have also yet to see some real Irish music or eat some great stew, so I'm looking forward to that as well.
I have to keep reminding myself that i've only been here a short amount of time and should give myself some time to adjust! I suppose I romanticized the idea of travelling alone, and the reality hit me quite hard when i first arrived. I'm not really wording this well, but I hope it comes across right; I'm looking forward to feeling more lucid and really enjoying this experience, for which i know many people envy me!
I'd like to end real quick with a few cross-cultural observations I made yesterday: I walked by a coffee shop and noticed a sign proclaiming that the shop was, "probably the best coffee in dublin." I just loved it, because it sort of poked fun at the bravado with which we Americans stereotypically market our products (or at least that's how i interpreted it). Also, I have yet to see a colon when reading the newspaper here - they seem to use the semi-colon exclusively! One last thing - at bookstores, there is no "nonfiction" section (this was also true at the London airport); books are either fiction or biography, science, etc...it actually makes a lot of sense, right, because the nonfiction books all fall into those other categories! | posted by Cheryl, 10/21/2005 08:32:00 AM | 1 comments |
Natioal Tear Gland Appreciation Week
So, I bet if the question, "Where do tears come from?" was on Family Feud, most people would guess that they come from the tear ducts (those tiny holes on the inside of your bottom lid, nearest to your nose). Well, guess what? That's where the tears drain into; they actually come from you "lacrimal" (or "tear") glands, located all around your upper lid (side note: the tears drain into your nasal cavity, which is why you have to blow your nose when you cry - thus, when you blow your nose while crying, you are actually "blowing tears!").So, why are they important? Why do we cry? I got mixed messages during my undergrad work in Psychology. Some profs (keen on "evolutionary psychology") saw tears as an adaptive communication mechanism just like any other facial expression; an infant crying elicits a helping response from a caregiver, just like me smiling at a friend elicits a response from him/her. Others seem to be more perplexed by tears - how did a system which normally functions to cleanse the eye and protect it from foreign bodies develop the secondary function of allowing us to express sadness/happiness/frustration? If we're sad or happy or whatnot, isn't the facial expression alone enough? Why cry?
To me, the question, "Why do we cry?" is one of those great, open-ended ones (like "nature versus nurture") that I expect will always be in debate. I'm always surprised by how similar a good cry feels to a good laugh, on a physiological level. Here's a neat article about this topic: http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2003/08/27/1061663846142.html
PS. For those of you who thought to wonder why this topic springs to my mind the day before I go to Europe and Suraj and I go on independent paths, I say "bravo" to you for your astute observational prowess! | posted by Cheryl, 10/17/2005 01:17:00 PM | 2 comments |
God and Sixth graders
So, last Tuesday morning I found myself in the company of over 100 rambunctious middle school-aged students at a "Digital Storytelling Workshop" put on by "Bridges to Understanding," a local nonprofit that lets kids from around the globe share digital stories about their lives (I'm a volunteer writer for them; check out their website: www.bridgesweb.org).A group of girls, clad in "Livestrong" bracelets and sparkly hair clips, pointed me to the corner where two boys chatted loudly and in animated tones. I assumed the subject of their debate was the latest video game or movie, as these were, in face, ELEVEN year-old children.
But no.
They were discussing nothing other than the potential existence of God, the probability that evolution is correct, and the recent supreme court debate about "Intelligent Design." Ash bounced up and down in his chair, his blonde bowl-cut bobbing, as he espoused his theory that, "There can't be a God! In all of history, there is absolutely no PROOF that there was a God. The things people wrote about as miracles can be explained by nature now."
Aaron wasn't so sure. He said that even though the miracles might not have been as miraculous as the people thought, that "still doesn't mean there's no God for sure." I explained to the boys that the stance of not believing there is proof of God could leave them either "agnostic" or "atheistic." If he could be sure there was proof of no God, he could be firmly atheistic, but if he was just sure that there wasn't proof of God (but didn't have proof that there was no God) he could be "agnostic," which I explained meant that you weren't positive either way (which isn't the exact definition but it worked for us). I summed it up by saying that "no proof of God is not the same as proof of no God..."
After a bachelor's degree from a prestigious liberal arts college, this phrase took me a few minutes to figure out, yet these kids seemed to get it! Aaron felt he was agnostic and wanted to learn more before he could be sure, while Ash remained convinced that the fact that miracles didn't exist proved definitively that there was no God.
What struck me was just how excited they were about the subject. I tried to imagine what they'd be like at age 13, 15, 25, and just couldn't see for sure whether that enthusiasm would last. That got me to thinking: how much of personality is stable through time? I remember learning through twin studies in my psych classes that it's about half learned and half innate, but perhaps some are born with innate personalities which make them more suceptible to their environments, right? I think one of the frustrating aspects of being a teacher during the middle school years, where personality is still forming in some ways yet stable in others, must be not being able to see what the kids are like when they grow up. Will Aaron be a philosophy major? Will Ash end up converting to some religion after his first child is born? I'd like to know, after only chatting with them for 15 minutes!
As Ash said after I persisted in arguing that his stance was more agnostic than atheistic, "Well, this is just my first theory. I'm only eleven..." The question is: what will the theory look like at 13? | posted by Cheryl, 10/14/2005 10:26:00 AM | 0 comments |
"Death with Dignity"
Well, as I prepare for a weekend trip in Oregon state, I can't help but ponder the supreme court's recent review (starting yesterday) of Oregon's physician-assisted suicide policy (known colloquially as "death with dignity" to supporters). For a brief overview, see this article:http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/4312672.stm
Now, I'm not really concerned with it as a politicial issue, because I'm no expert on who should control what issues (in this case, federal or state laws). I'm more interested in the deeper questions the issue brings up: What constitutes "killing oneself?" What is the purpose of prolonging life?
As for the former question: It's obvious who has agency over death when, for example, someone puts a gun to someone else's head or, in this case, prescribes drugs that will surely kill a patient. But what about the gray areas? If it's statistically proven, for example, that life choices such as having a diet high in saturated fats, smoking, drinking alcohol, and being overweight are all factors that contribute to a shorter life, can we say that people who engage in these activities are "killing themselves?" If, in fact, we are given the freedom every day to make decisions that directly affect our lifespans in less obvious or direct ways, it would seem illogical to say that we should not, in fact, have the freedom to make a decision that affects our lifespan in a direct way. This logic has led me to support the "death with dignity" act (as well as the fact that, if I were in a consistent state of pain with absolutely no hope of getting better, I would want this choice as well).
The second question is a bit tougher ("What is the purpose of prolonging life?"). If I had a very clear idea that a longer life was something that was just objectively better than a shorter life, then I could counter the above logic and say, "No, there is some inherent value in life, even with pain, and thus one should not be allowed to end it." I imagine this would be the case if I had very strong religious convictions. However, I'm still sorting through these issues and am prone to look at it from a historical and anthropological perspective, which makes me ask: is a life lived today to the age of 80 qualitatively "better" than, say, one lived to the age of 30 5,000 years ago (assuming that was the life expectancy then - i'm not sure what the numbers are)? We operate daily under the assumption that quantity of life is good, and I know we all mostly prefer to live rather than not, but at some point it all becomes relative to me, and I must resort to the old cliche that the quality of one's life is more important than it's quantity.
Of course, it does get confusing when I think in specifics; if I'm a "good" person, wouldn't prolonging my life allow for me to do more "good" and thus be better on some objective scale? I agree, but I still don't think that someone should be told whether or not they should be able to continue to do good if they are in pain...I must say, hoewever, that I'm still very open to ideas and suggestions and am in no way immovable in my position.
I just wanted to threse ideas out there and see if anyone else had responses! For now, I'm off to finish packing for my weekend trip to the Oregon Coast with Suraj - be back Sunday night... | posted by Cheryl, 10/06/2005 02:15:00 PM | 1 comments |
National Nasal-Passage Appreciation Week
Ok, so last Sunday night, as I was attempting a goal during an indoor soccer game, a curious thing happened: instead of going into the goal as I had planned, the ball deflected off the goalie's knee and smacked right back into the right side of my nose/mouth/cheek. Now, having played soccer for 13 years I've seen my share of injuries (specifically of a nose-like nature), so my first thought was to check for gushing blood. I was comforted to find merely a small trickle, and resolved not to cry as it would delay the essential blood-clotting process occurring deep within my nasal passage. I iced the nose for about 10 minutes before hopping back into the game (which we lost 6-1, but who's counting?).Anyway, the pain increased as the evening went on (perhaps after the endorphins faded), and my attempts for sleep could only be described as "fitful." As I lay in bed, imagining little white blood and red blood cells vying their way through the cramped highway of my bruised nasal capillaries, it occurred to me how rarely I thank my body for all the little processes it completes. Sure, we're all somewhat in tune with our stomachs (well, me more than others, but that's a story for another day) and muscles to some extent, but what about all the autonomic processes going on every day that we can't even perceive?
Of course, it would take hours to mentally address each process on an individual basis, so it's just not realistic to expect I'll be grateful to everything from my hippocampus (area of brain that helps with memory, among other things) to my cytoplasm (fluid in each cell that holds the organelles in place) each day...so, what to do, I asked myself? Suddenly, it hit me - just as we have "National Secretary Appreciation Week," we should have an appreciation week for different parts of the body! We all know that feeling when we get paper cuts on our pinkie fingers - you really don't appreciate it until it's gone. Thus, I hereby proclaim this week, "National Nasal-Passage Appreciation Week," in honor of my healing nose. Now, what to thank next week... | posted by Cheryl, 10/04/2005 10:12:00 AM | 1 comments |
Psychology: to pop, or not to pop?
I love the part in "The Incredibles" when the son brings up the point that, "If everyone's special, no one's special." I think kids are more savvy than we give them credit for when it comes to the "feel-good" movement. So many well-intentioned but misguided people encourage children feel good about themselves without allowing them opportunities to prove (to themselves and the viewer) they deserve it. For example, I was a pretty optimistic child, but I remember being very skeptical when adults would say a little doodle I drew was good! I had a clear mental picture of what I was trying to draw, and I could so clearly see how lacking my doodles were in comparison, that when an adult I trusted would say that the drawing was "great" I would question the validity of his/her opinion.Martin Seligman, one of my favorite psychologists, discusses this phenomenon in his book, "The Optimistic Child." Seligman argues that there's been an emphasis on "...how the child feels at the expense of what the child does" (p 27). He thinks there should be a focus on persistence, mastery, and meeting challenge, so that when a child is successful he/she feels that they deserve it. Thus, a good part of Seligman's research focuses on helping people have a more realistic view of their worlds. For example, when he and colleagues at UPenn completed "depression innoculation" programs at high risk schools, they taught children to be "detectives" in their own lives. He'd have them keep journals where they'd write comments about themselves; later, he'd teach them to look at the negative statements (such as, "I'm a terrible soccer player and I'll never get better") as if they were detectives trying to find "proof" of that statement's validity (this is also called "challenging negative cognitions"). He'd teach them to reinterpret their catastrophic statements in a more optimistic light ("I played badly today and need to work more on defense"); importantly, this optimistic light isn't debating the fundamental nature of the problem, but rather it encourages a child to see problems as less pervasive and permanent. Thus, becoming optimistic isn't related to feeling "happy" or successful all the time; it's simply a choice of attitude, so that when one comes across inevitable failures, they are seen as something one can overcome rather than catastrophes.
Let's step back for a second. In order to really delve into this subject, I have to give a brief background on the whole "positive psychology" movement and then define what I mean by "optimistic interpretations." Traditionally, psychology has been founded on a "pathology" model, where treating illness or abnormality are a main focus; less than a decade ago, a brilliant psychologist named Martin Seligman realized that the field of psychology could involve rigorous study of "positive" factors such as resilience, optimism, and even happiness (which they decided to call "subjective well-being" so it sounds a bit more scientific, hehe). Here's a link that gives a very brief description of how his realization came about: http://www.apa.org/apags/profdev/pospsyc.html
Seligman and his colleagues found that people tend to explain events in their lives according to three general dimensions: personalization (internal vs. external), pervasiveness (specific vs. universal), and permanence (temporary vs. permanent). People with an optimistic "explanatory style" (or way of explaining their world and attributing life events) see problems as external, specific and temporary; conversely, people with a pessimistic explanatory style attribute problems to their own internal factors and interpret them as universal and permanent (to read a cool interview with Seligman, see http://www.eqtoday.com/optimism/seligman.html).
Let's revisit the soccer example: after losing a soccer game, I could choose to interpret the game's result as internal (I'm a terrible player) or external (the other team's players were very good); specific (I didn't defend number 10 very well) versus universal (I can't defend anyone); and temporary (I played badly today) versus permanent (I will always play poorly). After framing this phenomena in these terms, when I reflect on my upbringing I'm absolutely floored with how consistently my parents encouraged me to interpret events in an optimistic way. Without ever seeming preachy, my parents really helped provide optimistic attributions for a loss (the other team was good, I am not good at defending just one of their players, and I played badly just today) whenever I would say that I felt I had done badly or wasn't a good player. Thanks, mom and dad!
Brief sidebar on pop psychology: after studying at Vassar, I found myself a bit jaded with a lot of mainstream media, such as "pop psychology" or "self-help" books, popular TV shows and news outlets, etc. Of course, part of my education was learning to see the complexities of any blanket statement, so part of me didn't want to reject those genres outright, but I think I did feel a bit snobby when I'd see the "Self-help" section in the bookstore.However, a few things have changed my mind lately. Firstly, Suraj recently helped me question whether there really was a quality difference between someone acting according to certain principles because they read them in a book or acting on them because that is what they had learned from their parents, teachers, etc. I had generally seen knowledge from self-help books as less "authentic," yet when I asked myself whether it was really more authentic to have learned it from various life factors, I thought not!
This book ("The Optimistic Child") is a perfect example: it happens to lay out how I remember being raised by my parents, yet they had that knowledge just from their life experiences rather than a book. Who am I to say that it would have been less authentic if they had treated me they way they did because of a self-help book? Throughout our daily lives we're all just acting upon what we think is the right or appropriate thing to do given the proof we've seen in our own experiences and those of others, whether they be books, movies, conversations with family and friends, or experiences at school or work. Also, I stopped knocking the "self-help" genre because I realized, as I said earlier, it's just like any other category - there are some great examples, some not so great, so my job is to separate the good from the bad.
Anyway, this stuff is actually a lot more interesting when you take specific examples and go in depth on them. I also should add that I have issues with many of these concepts when applying them to specific situations. For example, in sports, while it's seen as more "optimistic" to say that a loss is due to external rather than internal factors, you may sacrifice an opportunity to improve because it may actually be internal factors within your team that contribute to the loss. Additionally, we must ask what happens when the proof in one's life points to one being very sub-par on most all dimensions. Some of the factors regarding learned optimisim don't help too much with permanent conditions such as chronic illness; also, there are studies showing that depressed people tend to have a more realistic view of their strengths and weaknesses so the question would arise of whether making children into detectives of their own lives might actually make some more depressed. Also, if someone takes this to the logical extreme and persistently attributes their failures to external factors, they may sacrifice important chances for improvement (ie: i failed this math test because the teacher "sucks" rather than because I didn't study).
Another point I'd add is that the two explanatory stules (optimism and pessimism) are not mutually exclusive - a soccer game is so long that a certain goal can be seen as arising from one team's accomplishment while another could be due to the other team's mistake. Along those same lines, I must offer some explanation of another theory that has a special place in my heart: positive pessimism. Now, you might think that's an oxy-moron, but by the way this author defines it, the concept makes perfect sense! You can see it in her words at:
http://www.defensivepessimism.com Basically, the idea is that you prepare for the worst and hope for the best. It's known as "defensive pessimism" as well as "positive pessimism;" you'd say it was "positive" not becaues it was upbeat or particularly happy, but because the effect is positive on your life. Defensive pessimism is actually a way to prevent anxiety, because if you consider all the worse case scenarios and then make plans for them, you can feel a sense of control in your environment. Food for thought!
Just thinking and reading about these makes me realize what a bad judge I would be, because I really do focus on what I agree with in each of these rather than saying one is "right" and one is "wrong." Also, I just believe each human is so complex - at times I am a true-blue optimist, yet at others I definitely utilize defensive pessimism (this is certainly true with respect to some recent existential angst regarding what i should "do" with my life). Thus, I don't want to come across as totally simplifying things here, and I am afraid I might have done so a bit; at the end of the day, though, I figure it can't hurt to throw some ideas out there and see what people think - please post responses if you'd like to talk more about this! | posted by Cheryl, 10/03/2005 12:05:00 PM | 1 comments |
