The process of human communication is a miraculous thing. How we use words, body language and tone of voice to exchange ideas and emotions is highly evolved and complex.
Take the word 'stop' for example. You can say, "Stop!" very urgently to a person punching you in the head indicating that you would like the punching of your head to continue no longer. On the other hand, you can also say, "Stop ..." with a smile and a flip of your wrist when someone is complimenting you and it means to please continue. How we use our voices often carries as much meaning as the words we chose.
Opera singers are good at this. Everything they sing sounds so dramatic. I went to the opera once with my friend Alan. I don't understand Italian but Alan does, so he told me what the singers were saying as the opera progressed. This one opera guy was singing like his heart was breaking right before us. His performance was so emotional that it drove me to tears.
Still sobbing, I turned expectantly to Alan after the big crescendo to discover what tragedy had befallen the hero. Alan told me that he was singing about how he likes his bath warm but not too hot, and how you just can't get good prosciutto in Tuscany. I felt dumb for having cried but, boy, that guy could sing.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Wisdom
Seeing for yourself the great expanse of the Grand Canyon is a life-changing event. The canyon's enormity and the strength of the forces that created it are so huge that there is no way to see it and not feel different about your self. Niagara Falls causes the same reaction; you feel smaller and humble.
My friend Alan has plastic souvenirs from these two landmarks. He displays them proudly on his mantle. At a small gathering he once threw, another guest asked about the significance of the chintzy objects over his fireplace. Alan's chest filled with pride as he took them in hand. As he described his feelings about The Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls, all other conversations quietly died down. Alan was so emphatic about his descriptions that he was impossible to ignore.
He told of how he went to these places as a younger man searching for meaning. The great hidden truths were locked in these places of geological wonder, Alan felt, and he believed he discovered their keys. Life was not about the fantastic, Alan told us, it was about appreciating the everyday. Witnessing the enormity of The Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls revealed to him that there is wonder in everything, no matter how insignificant. You just have to look.
You can imagine the effect this had on his party. Some guests were hugging and weeping while others just simply sat and smiled with the contentment of true wisdom. As I was beginning to see Alan's point, I noticed that he was gone from the room. All of us were so focused on what we had learned that he left unnoticed.
Together we all looked excitedly through the house for Alan. Was he gazing at the fish swimming languidly in his aquarium? Was he staring deeply into a piece of wheat bread to discover its complex surface? Where was he? We found him in the den trying on all our coats.
My friend Alan has plastic souvenirs from these two landmarks. He displays them proudly on his mantle. At a small gathering he once threw, another guest asked about the significance of the chintzy objects over his fireplace. Alan's chest filled with pride as he took them in hand. As he described his feelings about The Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls, all other conversations quietly died down. Alan was so emphatic about his descriptions that he was impossible to ignore.
He told of how he went to these places as a younger man searching for meaning. The great hidden truths were locked in these places of geological wonder, Alan felt, and he believed he discovered their keys. Life was not about the fantastic, Alan told us, it was about appreciating the everyday. Witnessing the enormity of The Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls revealed to him that there is wonder in everything, no matter how insignificant. You just have to look.
You can imagine the effect this had on his party. Some guests were hugging and weeping while others just simply sat and smiled with the contentment of true wisdom. As I was beginning to see Alan's point, I noticed that he was gone from the room. All of us were so focused on what we had learned that he left unnoticed.
Together we all looked excitedly through the house for Alan. Was he gazing at the fish swimming languidly in his aquarium? Was he staring deeply into a piece of wheat bread to discover its complex surface? Where was he? We found him in the den trying on all our coats.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Vulnerability
When are you at your most vulnerable? When your heart is broken? When you are incapacitated by illness or injury? I think it's when you're in the shower.
Sometimes when I'm in the shower and the rushing water is loud enough so that any noise from outside the bathroom is just barely audible, my imagination runs wild. I think, "What the hell was that?! Was my front door just kicked in?!" Then I’ll turn off the shower and stand silently and soapy for five minutes until I am sure I was imagining the sound.
I tried to overcome my shower fear for years and finally discovered a solution. I installed those little cameras all over my house and hooked them up to monitors installed in my shower. I spent all my savings but there is no better feeling than taking a long hot shower and watching my tranquil house.
Some believe that you're most vulnerable when you sneeze. Even though it's only for a moment, you are totally disabled. It's impossible to keep your eyes open, your body convulses. And if it's a whole string of sneezes, forget about defending yourself. You are at the mercy of the world when you sneeze.
Americans say "God bless you," because they are concerned that you will be killed when you're sneezing. Germans say, “Gazuntheidt,” which roughly translates to, “Weakling!” The French say, “A vos souhaite,” which means, “Don't get any on me, idiot.”
An obscure Buddhist sect worships the sneeze. Sneezing is meditation to them. They believe that it's the only time a human completely loses attachment to self-consciousness. The ego vanishes in the moment of a sneeze, they believe. And when the ego is gone that's when God is present inside you. The sneeze is divine to this sect.
My friend Alan traveled to their monastery during his search for meaning in the 60's. He said that the monks sat cross-legged in their cavernous temple. All around them reverence filled the thick silent air. At their feet were sacred hand-gilded bowls full to the brim with black pepper. The head monk at the front would say the sacred word and all the monks would take a pinch of pepper and snort it up. As they all sneezed the divine spirit filled the temple and each one of them. They would repeat this ceremony for twelve hours at a time.
Alan decided not to join that sect after all. But he did bring back one of their sacred bowls that he actually uses to serve pepper on the dinner table. He's not found a salt bowl to match it and I know that bothers Alan.
Sometimes when I'm in the shower and the rushing water is loud enough so that any noise from outside the bathroom is just barely audible, my imagination runs wild. I think, "What the hell was that?! Was my front door just kicked in?!" Then I’ll turn off the shower and stand silently and soapy for five minutes until I am sure I was imagining the sound.
I tried to overcome my shower fear for years and finally discovered a solution. I installed those little cameras all over my house and hooked them up to monitors installed in my shower. I spent all my savings but there is no better feeling than taking a long hot shower and watching my tranquil house.
Some believe that you're most vulnerable when you sneeze. Even though it's only for a moment, you are totally disabled. It's impossible to keep your eyes open, your body convulses. And if it's a whole string of sneezes, forget about defending yourself. You are at the mercy of the world when you sneeze.
Americans say "God bless you," because they are concerned that you will be killed when you're sneezing. Germans say, “Gazuntheidt,” which roughly translates to, “Weakling!” The French say, “A vos souhaite,” which means, “Don't get any on me, idiot.”
An obscure Buddhist sect worships the sneeze. Sneezing is meditation to them. They believe that it's the only time a human completely loses attachment to self-consciousness. The ego vanishes in the moment of a sneeze, they believe. And when the ego is gone that's when God is present inside you. The sneeze is divine to this sect.
My friend Alan traveled to their monastery during his search for meaning in the 60's. He said that the monks sat cross-legged in their cavernous temple. All around them reverence filled the thick silent air. At their feet were sacred hand-gilded bowls full to the brim with black pepper. The head monk at the front would say the sacred word and all the monks would take a pinch of pepper and snort it up. As they all sneezed the divine spirit filled the temple and each one of them. They would repeat this ceremony for twelve hours at a time.
Alan decided not to join that sect after all. But he did bring back one of their sacred bowls that he actually uses to serve pepper on the dinner table. He's not found a salt bowl to match it and I know that bothers Alan.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Pop Music
In evolution, species develop better survival skills because of natural selection. But the process is slow with most organisms. Humans, however, have developed rapidly because we are the only species that carefully considers mate selection. We choose with whom we want to reproduce because of the traits they possess, and we look for smart, capable, strong, attractive and caring. As a result, these traits dominate the species since they are most often reproduced and humanity improves with every generation. With elk, on the other hand, alive and in heat are suitable traits in a mate. And look where elk are.
I think about this every time I hear another love song on the radio. No matter how vapid the lyrics might be, no matter how clichéd its girl seeks boy theme, it's still about why humans are the most evolved species. When you think about it this way, pop stars really are the most important torch bearers for humanity’s continued development. To hell with scientists and philosophers, it's the pop stars whom epitomize humankind’s greatest achievements.
My friend Alan hates pop music. He’s convinced that “that crap” on the radio is shallow and base. I believe his opinion of pop music is the reason why he has remained childless all these years. While he dismisses the latest hits as “that crap” and listens to his “serious” music, I know that the top ten are actually messages compelling the listening public to go out there and improve our race.
Alan tries to get me to listen to more serious music but I’m afraid of it. If everyone listened to serious music humanity’s continued development would stall. Last time we argued over this, Alan called me an idiot. I told him that if he really cared about his fellow man he'd listen to more pop music. That's when he cried. I think he knows I'm right.
I think about this every time I hear another love song on the radio. No matter how vapid the lyrics might be, no matter how clichéd its girl seeks boy theme, it's still about why humans are the most evolved species. When you think about it this way, pop stars really are the most important torch bearers for humanity’s continued development. To hell with scientists and philosophers, it's the pop stars whom epitomize humankind’s greatest achievements.
My friend Alan hates pop music. He’s convinced that “that crap” on the radio is shallow and base. I believe his opinion of pop music is the reason why he has remained childless all these years. While he dismisses the latest hits as “that crap” and listens to his “serious” music, I know that the top ten are actually messages compelling the listening public to go out there and improve our race.
Alan tries to get me to listen to more serious music but I’m afraid of it. If everyone listened to serious music humanity’s continued development would stall. Last time we argued over this, Alan called me an idiot. I told him that if he really cared about his fellow man he'd listen to more pop music. That's when he cried. I think he knows I'm right.
Monday, February 5, 2007
Survival
Fire was precious and elusive to early man for thousands of years. Survival often hinged on whether he had fire until finally he discovered the power to make fire on his own. This was an enormous step forward for man and it triggered an acceleration in evolution.
That's why I feel guilty when I use a book of matches. So many early humans went through a lot of trouble to make fire and I can have it in a snap. Sometimes I don't even close the matchbook cover before striking – the one small step requested of modern man in making fire, and I can't even do that. With no effort I stand on the shoulders of all the humans who came before me. I don't think I deserve this.
My friend Alan was into being a 'survivalist' for a while. He believed that he was better suited for any emergency if he could survive with just his wits and his hands in any landscape. He asked me to go camping with him one weekend. I was about to turn him down when the book of matches on my counter caught my attention. So out of guilt I agreed and he picked me up Friday evening.
We drove to a park not far from my home. He parked and got out. I thought we were headed to the wilderness and I wasn't sure if it was legal to camp in the park. Sitting on the hood of his car, Alan confessed to me that he wasn't really a very good survivalist and he was sure I would turn him down to go camping. So we swung on the swing set for a while and then went home.
That's why I feel guilty when I use a book of matches. So many early humans went through a lot of trouble to make fire and I can have it in a snap. Sometimes I don't even close the matchbook cover before striking – the one small step requested of modern man in making fire, and I can't even do that. With no effort I stand on the shoulders of all the humans who came before me. I don't think I deserve this.
My friend Alan was into being a 'survivalist' for a while. He believed that he was better suited for any emergency if he could survive with just his wits and his hands in any landscape. He asked me to go camping with him one weekend. I was about to turn him down when the book of matches on my counter caught my attention. So out of guilt I agreed and he picked me up Friday evening.
We drove to a park not far from my home. He parked and got out. I thought we were headed to the wilderness and I wasn't sure if it was legal to camp in the park. Sitting on the hood of his car, Alan confessed to me that he wasn't really a very good survivalist and he was sure I would turn him down to go camping. So we swung on the swing set for a while and then went home.
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