Two Lists

I've decided that it's a bit much to ask that I "limit negativity and complaining" (as per my Mindbloom task) all in one fell swoop, so instead I'm going to make a list -- or two lists, actually. And for every item on the "things that are annoying me list," I'm going to make sure there are two things on my "this makes the world awesome" list. Here goes.

Things Currently Annoying Me

1. Double-standards for history.

Prompted by someone on Twitter sharing a link to a youtube video by a professor of early Christian history explaining that "Christians weren't persecuted" during the first three centuries CE. Her statement is, in fact, that Christians weren't systematically persecuted for refusing to deny Christ, that stories of this persecution were later exaggerated and embellished, and that holding to a literalist view of there having been mass systematic persecution is harmful for today's society. Now, I'm totally down with the last point, and anyone who isn't aware that accounts of persecution were exaggerated is simply not aware of the process of myth-making that goes on in every religion as they seek to establish legitimacy and moral authority. But saying that there was not systematic persecution of Christians for the specific reason they claimed is a long way from saying "Christians weren't persecuted." There is documented historical evidence that some Christians refused to participate in certain political activities because of their religious beliefs, and they were punished accordingly (at times being put to death). No, this was not "systematic." And while the Christians believed that participating in specific activities would have been a "denial of Christ," those in power would not have necessarily seen it that way but would have seen it as an act of political rebellion. In our society today, we uphold the freedom of religion, which includes the right to abstain from political activities (like serving in the military or pledging to the flag) for religious reasons, or even simply as a matter of conscience if the issue holds a place of importance for the person equal to a religious conviction (believe me, as a pacifist, I have looked into this, and there are plenty of people who would like to make conscientious objection a crime on par with treason, an offense punishable by death -- so the issue of being killed for one's religious beliefs is still alive and well today). If someone today were put to death for refusing to comply with their government based on religious convictions (especially when their refusal did not result in any direct harm to anyone else), we would describe that as religious persecution. So yes, the stories were exaggerated, and yes, subscribing to a myth of mass victimization is definitely unhealthy. But only by holding some kind of weird double-standard can we come to the conclusion that therefore what happened to some Christians in the past somehow "doesn't count" as religious persecution.

This also goes for ancient Greek society. I've been seeing this claim popping up here and there that the view of ancient Greek society as patriarchal and sexist is incorrect and was the result of modern scholars discounting the role of women in that society as being inherently less important simply because they were women. This claim insists that, in fact, the role of women in the household and in private life was just as vital and important to society as the role of men in the public and political sphere, and that therefore ancient Greek society was not inherently sexist. But this claim overlooks a couple of serious issues: First, the activities of half of the population will be an important influence on a given society no matter what those activities include -- this is kind of a no-shit-Sherlock moment. Determining whether or not there is systemic sexism in a given culture is not a matter of determining how much influence women have, but what is the nature of that influence and what are the social and political forces acting on it, shaping it and restricting it. Second, the fact remains that a woman born in ancient Greek society had only very specific options available to her, and that these options were determined by her sex. Last time I checked, we had agreed that the "separate but equal" argument wasn't going to fly (in part because it's mostly an impossibility), and that it was still inherently unjust to restrict someone's lifestyle and choices according to race or sex. Were modern scholars biased in their claims? Maybe. But that doesn't mean that ancient Greek society wasn't sexist. By modern standards, I find it hard to argue that it wasn't.

2. Shitting on "nice" people.

I have never really understood why people feel like they're allowed to shit on other people for being nice. Calling people out (respectfully and constructively) for hypocrisy, duplicity, enabling and insensitivity or bullying in the guise of "caring" -- sure. But I think we're on dangerous ground (and living in a deeply cynical age) when the mere fact that someone seems pleasant and friendly is grounds to attack them. Knowing whether or not someone is being hypocritical or enabling requires a certain amount of familiarity with the context of that person's "niceness." It's worrying to me when people feel like they can presume that kind of insight into others based on stereotypes and broad generalizations.

"Nice" is an easy and fairly neutral word in most contexts; it's a word that a lot of people use to indicate a lack of familiarity, or a first impression. ("I only just met her, but she seemed nice," or "My coworker picked me up a coffee during their lunch break -- that was nice of them.") Last time I checked, it was generally a bad idea to go about disparaging people because of first impressions and a lack of information, assuming all sorts of nefarious schemes and ulterior motives behind a person's congenial attitude.

I think it's especially telling that the people who seem most eager to shit on "nice" people are people who tend to be somewhat caustic in how they relate to others. I wonder how often they themselves have been told that they aren't "all that nice." And I wonder how often the person telling them that was trying to communicate that they were in fact being rude, arrogant, defensive, disrespectful, or simply creating a hostile environment not conducive to real communication. (I wonder how often they were told directly and clearly that they were being disrespectful or defensive, and they chose to hear it as an accusation of not being "nice" instead of confronting the actual substance of the complaint.) But I guess being provocatively self-righteous about our bad attitudes is way easier than doing the hard work of learning how to communicate with others effectively and treating people with respect.

Things That Make The World Awesome

1. Exercise as meditation.

I've been doing yoga and tai chi in the mornings regularly for a little more than a week now. I tend to burn out on exercise precisely because I try to be too intense about it (and there's always an excuse about why I don't have time to devote an hour of intense exercise, followed by a cool down and a shower... and before you know it, it's been two hours and I haven't gotten to work yet, and I have so much to do!)... so I've been approaching it this time as a form of physical meditation, where the "point" is not to "feel the burn," but to settle into a refreshed and awake state of mind. That seems to be helping tremendously; it's good to get up and get active early in the morning, doing a simple exercise that is more about the movement itself than about improving at something (like strength, or weight loss). I also ordered a book on the spiritual and energetic aspects of tai chi, and that should be arriving today at some point. It's just a shame that tai chi is seen mostly as a trendy exercise for old people in this country. I'm really intrigued by its relationship to Taoism as a spiritual path, but it's hard to find much information on that.

2. Cu talks to birds.

Really, just Cu in general. He is such an awesome cat. Just now, he came over to the windowsill and sat chirping at a bird (possibly a robin?) perched on the roof of the apartment building across the street. Most mornings now, he'll come and just sit staring at me until I get up and feed him, and if Jeff's already fed him, then he'll just come and hang out with me until I get up. During the day, he'll wander about the house, finding a spot in whatever room he happens to like -- but when I'm in bed, it's like he has to be in the same room as me, on eye level, so that whenever I open my eyes... there he is. (Okay, it sounds creepier than it is. It's actually adorable.)

3. Metaphors We Live By

I've been reading Lakoff's Metaphors We Live By, and Sarah Allan's book, The Way of Water, in which she applies Lakoff's linguistic theories to examine the root metaphors of Taoism and ancient Chinese religion more generally. Last weekend, Jeff and I spent hours discussing how Lakoff's ideas apply to the concept of "nature worship" in a Pagan context, and we even planned an outline and took extensive notes -- we seriously might have enough material for a short book on the topic. It might sound silly, but I really enjoyed working with him through these ideas, bringing together his knowledge of linguistics with my background in religious studies (and ecology, to a lesser extent). It was the kind of in-depth, detailed conversation I used to have in college, and it just reaffirms for me the fact that I'm not kidding myself when I say that I really love people who know more than I do. There's a special kind of pleasure in being able to collaborate with someone who can keep up with you intellectually, who gets excited by ideas the way you do, and whose area(s) of expertise don't always overlap with yours. Awesome. Somehow, this turned into a discussion of why Jeff rocks so hard.

4. Lists that work.

Okay. So I couldn't come up with a fourth thing to complete my list (or maybe I'm just lazy), but I'm already in a better mood than when I started this post, feeling much more energized and enthusiastic than when I was bitching in my head about people being stupid on the internet. So, yay for focusing on the good stuff in life and staying centered in gratitude and appreciation!

In Which Ali Rambles About How She Was Never Loved Enough As A Child

I just had a realization, a minor revelation about the source of some of my anxiety about wanting to do so much and feeling like I never have enough time.

I am blessed to know a number of amazing, creative people.

Take Heather, for instance. I've never met her, I'm just a fan of her blog. In another life where our paths could have crossed in person, she seems like the kind of person I would have been friends with (or maybe not — who knows if we might have remained strangers — she often sounds as awkward and introverted as I am, which is another reason I like her writing). Today, Heather shared a post on her blog about committing to writing one poem for each day during the months of August and September, building on her experience in June and July when she created one index card's worth of art for each day.

My first thought was: Awesome! That sounds so inspiring! I want to do that!

My second thought was: How in hell can I make time to sit down and write a poem each day? I spend most of my time feeling tired and half-burnt-out from all the other self-assigned projects I've taken on, and I have more naturalist training coming up, and another season of FF&C starting in a week, and I can barely commit to fifteen minutes of prayer at the altar or thirty minutes of Tai Chi in the morning....

These are my third thoughts. When I realize that, instead of feeling frustrated that there are too many things I want to do, I should stop for a moment and thank the gods that I know so many inspiring people. People who make me say, "Awesome! I want to do that!" People who know how to live their lives with grace and guts, even when shit is hitting the fan and they feel like they can't keep it together, who still manage to be honest and strong and kick-ass.

So some of my desire to do all these awesome things is to show support and appreciation for the work of these other brilliant, strong, creative people. Because I never really got that kind of support. I wanted to be a writer from early on because my first grade teacher made a passing comment about how she liked my stories. I don't remember anyone ever giving me that kind of compliment before, but I remember my parents' pride in hearing it. For a while, I wanted to be a nature writer and study science (I was very specific, the way kids sometimes get, I wanted to be a marine mammalogist) — I kept a naturalist journal where I made detailed sketches and took notes on all the local flora and fauna down at the creek near my house.... until the day when I found a newborn rabbit that had been dug up from its burrow by a neighborhood dog, and I brought it home with me in a shoebox and was ready to stay up and nurse it all night, but my parents said no, they would take care of it... and in the morning, I woke up to find its body cold and stiff curled up in the box where they'd left it on the back porch.

So I wrote poetry. Dark, morose poetry. My freshman year of high school, I wrote a poem every day. I filled notebooks and notebooks with really bad poems. I slouched in the back of geometry class and wrote poems in backwards handwriting, from right to left. My mom bought me a novel written by a girl who was only eighteen — and I thought, this is the expectation, then. I have to be good enough to write a best-selling novel by the time I'm eighteen. I didn't. I write and I write and I write... but my parents never read anything I write anyway. My senior year, I organized a school-wide arts festival, the largest in the school's history, complete with art gallery, fashion show, live music and poetry readings. My mother filmed hours of other people performing.... but the camcorder battery died within the first 30 seconds of when I finally got up to read. I still haven't been able to write a book manuscript. I have a publisher who said he'd love to publish anything I wrote, just send a manuscript his way whenever I'm ready..... and I still haven't been able to write a book.

What's my excuse? I don't know. I want to do everything, but somehow time gets away from me and I waste hours not getting anything done. Every time I see someone doing something amazing and creative, I want to read their work or take the time to really deeply consider what they've said. I've spent three days — three days — taking notes on a book that's only 150 pages long, so that we could do an hour-long FF&C episode on it. Why? Because four years ago I criticized something else this author wrote, and he came back at me asking for a detailed review of exactly what I thought was wrong with the book.... and I never got around to giving it to him. I didn't tell him to fuck off, I didn't point out that a critical review of a book did not obligate me to pick apart his every argument for logical fallacies, I didn't point out that the critical review I did give the book had plenty of specifics in it already.... Instead, I have spent four years feeling like I owe him a detailed critique, promising myself that someday I really am going to go back and read that book a second time and go through it bit by bit..... and now that I'm reviewing another of his books, I'm leaving no stone unturned, no argument left unexplored. Nevermind that, at this rate, we'll never record the episode, and that even if/when we do, he'll probably never listen to it, and even if he did, his response (like those of listeners) will probably be that I went way overboard and "over-analyzed" what was a very short book and my expectations for it were too high and so therefore my review isn't important..... Why do I do it? I don't know. Because I would want someone to give that much thought and put that much effort into a critique of my work. Because I believe if someone puts the time and effort into creating something, they deserve the same attention and effort in return.

And because giving this much thought to it has deepened my understanding of my own ideas. Yes, that too. But ideas that never have a chance to catch their breath or find their own expression because I feel like I'm constantly in a race to find a better way to express them, or constantly trying to weigh them against the ideas of others, to refine them and deepen them. I am a perfectionist, not just of things but of ideas themselves.

I realize that I feel deeply sad about some of this. People are eager to think little of you. My recent blog post about being "deity dumped" received numerous enthusiastic responses from people full of advice — much of it kindly meant. But an even more recent post, exploring an aspect of my practice in crafted, delicate language, a piece I was proud of writing and that I felt was much better from both a technical and an emotional perspective.... received almost no comment. When I admit that I think the work I do is valuable, and that I work hard to be respectful and to listen deeply to others, I'm told I am arrogant and holier-than-thou.

I feel the strong desire to stop. Jeff, and even my parents, have remarked about how different my attitude towards ebooks is now than it was a few years ago. I used to hate them. I used to think that they would ruin the genre and jeopardize serious reading (not to mention libraries and public access to information and the ability to pass down books through the generations as sacred objects of power). Now, I really enjoy the convenience of wanting a book and being able to download it within seconds. What they don't seem to get is that I am thinking like a consumer now, instead of a writer. I gave up. I no longer think that anyone would read the kind of book I would want to write. I no longer believe that, no matter what I did, my parents would be proud of me or ever really hear me.

So I spend a lot of my time trying to really hear others, to really listen. There are so many people doing so many amazing, wonderful things. I could spend all of my time running around amazed and saying "Wow!" and never get anything done. Even now, the podcast is practically little more than that — me sharing the latest crazy-awesome news and thoughts from other people.

But I find myself burnt out and tired. I find myself wondering why I still feel so stressed out and busy all the time, when all of the deadlines are self-imposed and nobody would really notice or care if I dropped offline for good and never posted another update or recorded another podcast episode or wrote another line. I could just stop. I could give up and watch television all day, and no one would think any worse of me. Plenty of people would be downright jealous. Lots of people dream of being able to eek by on their spouse's single income and not have to work for somebody else at a job they hate.

But this ramble has gotten way out of hand. What I wanted to say was, maybe I can find another way to honor the creativity and inspiration I find in other people: to say thank you and celebrate them, without feeling the pressure of needing to pour all of my attention into that and leave no time for my own work. Maybe some kind of simple ritual, similar to the offerings I make in the mornings to my gods, ancestors and spirits of the land. A ritual that will help me to set boundaries while still showing support and gratitude. I want to think about this more....