Advent retrospective

Advent is the time beginning on the fourth Sunday before Christmas, a period for Roman Catholics that functions as a kind of mini-Lent.  It doesn’t last as long as the 40 days of Lent, but in the world in which I was raised, we were encouraged to purify our souls in preparation for the celebration of the birth of Christ.

I no longer believe in the doctrines which I was taught are the foundation of Advent practices.  But, somewhat to my surprise, I now believe that the practices themselves – or something like them – are the real foundation of this pre-winter solstice time.  The religious doctrines are sort of add-ons, a kind of rational explanation for rhythms that human individuals and societies find profoundly significant.

Winter is closing in, and it seems the appropriate time for drawing in our own lives in some kind of reflection, a time to close the shudders early in the evening against the hassle and concerns of the day.  I suppose I should, if I listen to myself, be grateful that my internet connection stopped working for about 48 hours.  I was not grateful, though, nor did I close the shudders early against the hassle.  In fact, I stayed up until about 2 a.m. last night making software changes and draping ethernet cables all of the house.   

Having solved my internet connection problem though, I am now back to thinking calmly about Advent and reducing the impact of the world’s clamour.  Everyone’s needs are unique, and they change in subtle ways as we grow and face new challenges, of course.  For me right now, I want to live with fewer plans for the future and more in the present.

That means not worrying too much about whether this pain or that fatigue signals something “serious.”  Peter and I are in our 7th & 8th decades.  By definition, our whole lives do not stretch out in front of us.  Whatever the aches and pains may portend, I want to be grateful for today, not fearful of tomorrow.

On a practical level, I want to take care of my body so that I can be as alive as possible while I am living.  So for Advent, I am upping my daily exercise quotient from 20 minutes minimum to 30.

I know it’s not very much.  But really, I can be a lazy slob who finds an excuse at least 5 days of the week for why I shouldn’t do my regular exercise “just today.”  Because it’s been so exhausting – or unexpected – or _______ (fill in the excuse of your choice:  they all work).

Mumbai Why?

It isn’t what I want to write – or even think – about.  But the ongoing events of terrorism in Mumbai (formerly known as Bombay) seem all-encompassing.

Why?   Why do we humans come to believe with such ferocious tenacity that we are called by God to kill all those who do not share our beliefs?  Even at the cost of ones own death?

A short-sighted – very very short-sighted – view of world events and of history might suggest that we analyze the beliefs of Islam.  But very few religions do not have a history of righteous murder.  Today it’s Islamists or African tribes or ethnic groups in the Balkans, but we need not go back a full century to see one of the worst examples in history in Western Europe, and Christians were murdering “unbelievers” under the banner of the crusades a full millennium ago, and then moved on to burning heretics at the stake. 

And it’s not just religion, as some would suggest, that is the problem.  Tyrants and totalitarian governments who have no religious views – Communism, the rule of Saddam Hussein are two contemporary examples of secular creeds that supported mass murder of anyone who opposed them.

We must learn to let people disagree, or we shall destroy the human species.  America thought it had found the answer with democracy.

But we have learned that, even for us, we find it hard to let other countries disagree with our exalted principles.  In fact, we often can’t even let our fellow Americans disagree without calling them unpatriotic.

Giving Thanks, 2008

I can no other answer make

but thanks, and thanks,

and ever thanks.

Shakespeare:  Twelfth Night

I think it truly takes the audacity of hope to believe that millions of living creatures have much to be grateful for right now.  Global warming is threatening the sheer existence of every species from polar bears to shell fish, hundreds of thousands of people in Zimbabwe are starving and are now threatened with cholera, Darfur remains completely unresolved.

But I am among those who are immensely fortunate.  So I know it is easier for me to keep the faith and to believe, despite so many appearances to the contrary, that our existence has some meaning greater than what is evident to my naked eye.

Quite funny:  http://beversluis.blogspot.com/, post Things are Amazing, November 25th.

Also just a little reminder to myself in face of temptation to grumble too loudly too often.

Note:  We’re changing internet servers tomorrow morning.  If I don’t reappear here in a timely fashion, the process was not the simple ten-minute switch-over-for-dummies that was promised.   

Another view altogether

Television has never been able to compete for me with the power of books.  The written word has always carried me somewhere that visual images cannot.  But tonight we watched a docudrama about the early years before Einstein’s theory was accepted and Newton’s theory of gravity displaced.  It was during the First World War when Britain and Germany were killing each other by the millions.  But it was a Quaker at Cambridge University who first offered solid proof supporting Einstein’s theory of general relativity.

It is story of beauty and anguish and betrayal and vindication.  The theory of relativity itself is so astonishingly beautiful that I could almost understand the world of minds like Einstein’s.  How work – how thinking - becomes an imperative, totally and absolutely absorbing everything else – love, and loss, and pain and children and country.  Nothing else seems more important than this unfolding vision.

I was almost sobbing by the end of the programme as the narrator said in his dry English voice – “And out of this theory of relativity came the theories of the Big Bang, and black holes, and all the rest that changed how we see the world forever.”

I’m still feeling as if a great storm has passed through, and the light is almost unbearable.

Beta test for financial rescue plan

The British government today announced what in the States would be called a huge bail-out plan for the economy.  Fundamentally it consists of cutting taxes, increasing hand-outs, and borrowing mind-boggling amounts of money that will ultimately equal at least 57% of GDP.  It’s a huge gamble.  It will be early next year before analysts can make an informed guess about how the dice are rolling.

It’s similar to what Obama and the Democrats are hoping to try with a $700 billion stimulus package, but it’s a greater risk for Britain because it’s a much smaller country, and the dollar is a world currency while the British pound isn’t.  If it works, the Labour government will be hailed as heroes.  If it fails, I strongly suspect I will be dead before the country recovers fiscally.  As it is, the government cannot foresee even beginning to pay down the debt in less than eight years, although taxes will begin to shoot up in 15 months time. 

To tell the truth, despite a lot of blustering, nobody really knows what will happen. 

I think in part it is simply a question of confidence.  If people believe things are getting better they will, because we will take risks rather than stuffing all our savings under the mattress. 

Alternatively, we can take the very very long view:  fishermen have just dragged a fossil out of the ocean on the coast of Britain.  It was the fossil of a turtle whose forebears had first left the ocean for life on land 215 million years ago.  50 million years later it returned home to live an acquatic life once again.

Well, I don’t think the changes we are facing in the world today are that drastic.

Role reversals

We woke up this morning to a lovely dusting of snow.  Within 30 minutes we also discovered that the heater in the bathroom had not turned on and the temperature had dropped to 52 degrees.  Pleasant enough outside with a light jacket, but a bit chilly for a morning shower.  Then the television got stuck in stand by and would not budge no matter how many buttons we pushed.  In the middle of which, our telephone rang to deliver a text message on our land line.  This is a first, so I pressed button #4 which the recording said would connect me to “further information,” which I was told was, regrettably unavailable at this time.

So we opted for another cup of coffee, and went out for the Sunday paper.

What’s interesting about this list of annoying inconveniences – which is all they were – is that it did not occur to either Peter or to me that I wasn’t the one to solve them. 

So I did.  Peter, as usual, is preparing what is almost always turns out to be a fabulous Sunday dinner, and doing things on the computer that outface me. 

I personally think it’s a magnificently satisfactory division of labour.

“And to All a Good Night”

Frankness, sense and mirth

Advertisement by The Economist Magazine, suggesting itself as a gift for those you love this Christmas.

Along with a gift subscription, the magazine is including a free copy of their “Book of Obituaries.”

Seriously.

Blog analysis

I discovered a website that purports to analyze the personality of a blog using Carl Jung’s categories in which he divides people into Thinkers and Feelers and who are either predominantly Practical or Idealists.  (http://www.typealyzer.com/index.php?lang=enSceptical ).  Sceptical though I was, I was self-absorbed enough to type in the name of each of my two blogs.  I wouldn’t say the analyses were 100% right, but the results were accurate enough to be disconcerting.

According to the analyses of this blog (TheOtherI),  I belong with “The Mechanics” - an independent problem-solving type, who are good at responding to unpredicted challenges, and who prefer to think things out for themselves.  We also, apparently, often avoid inter-personal conflict, but enjoy working with other independent highly-skilled types. 

Well, perhaps a little too exalted, but fairly accurate.  What the analysis did not get right is the prediction that I like adventure and risk – things like driving race cars or working as a fireman.  Dead wrong.  I hate extreme risk, and have always make choices that I perceived to be middle-of-the-road.  They might have looked outlandish to other people occasionally, but they always felt moderate to me.  I avoid like the plague putting myself into situations where I think there is a serious possibility of failure.  But I am bored if the task is too easily accomplished.

My other blog (TheBigBangToNow.wordpress.com) describes the author as a “Thinker,” logical and analytical, attuned to creative and intellectual challenges, always looking for something more complex.  Thinkers may not be very good at understanding the needs of others and might therefore appear arrogant. 

Yes, I am a thinker and definitely not a feeler.  I do often appear more confident to others than I feel myself, and  I still wonder whether I understand the needs of others or not.  Growing up I thought of myself as tremendously intuitive, but as I look back at how often I have missed the obvious in others’ sufferings or needs, I have wondered if I am not even marginally autistic.  Probably not.  I’m probably just egocentric enough not to notice sometimes what another person is going through, which is not the same thing as being autistic.

Putting the two analyses together, I guess they would class me as a “Thinking Mechanic.”  I would have preferred to be called a Thinking Practical Problem Solver, but that is a cavil probably based on vanity. 

Well, I hope that’s the verdict.  A “Mechanical Thinker” is the other option, of course.

Christmas curmudgeon

“Seasons Greetings and Best Wishes for the New Year.”   Christmas cards have never been one of my favourite traditions.  I find it hard to say anything meaningful or personal on most of the cards I send, and from a review of the cards we receive, it is not an uncommon problem.  There is the occasional panic about December 23rd when a card arrives from someone to whom we have not sent greetings, and the cards clutter up the house for at least a month, after which one must find some responsible way to recycle them.

So I have scratched most of my family and best friends off my Christmas card list.  I’m in contact with them more often than once a year, and for those with whom I am in contact on a single annual basis, I have little to say.   So all the way around, I think most people will be hugely relieved not to get a card from me. 

But not sending a card to the neighbours here could be perceived as a positively hostile act.  So Peter and I bought a box of cards at the supermarket yesterday.  Their saving grace is that they are about 3 1/2 inches square and are already printed on recycled paper.

I shall grit my teeth and send them with good cheer.  My goal, though, is to make the list shorter every year.  I hope my friends will recognize their absence from my list as a sincere compliment.

Where have all the flowers gone?

Queen Elizabeth was visiting the London School of Economics earlier this month and someone asked her what she thought about the global financial crisis.

“You’d think,” she said “that with so much money involved, somebody would know where it is.”

So it’s true:  absolutely nobody knows what’s going on.