For the better part of the past 19 months, I functioned without a radio in my car. Well, let me back up a little, I do have a radio but it went dead after I had a power outage, and I couldn’t reactivate the radio’s connection without the proper password (granted, even if I did, the buttons weren’t working…). At first I was upset. I missed the preset stations, I missed having the ability to choose different music to fill out the void that is my 20 minutes commute (I know, I know… only 20 minutes each way). I missed the power (did I mention to you that I am a control freak?) to change the stations and alter volume level with the buttons on my steering wheel (oh yeah, I am so in love with that particular feature of my car… opposable thumbs baby, it’s awesome). I have grown so accustomed to having a radio that the concept of not having one made me feel disconnected from the world. You see, the only time I get the news, listen to the latest songs, or pay attention to social commentary was through the radio on my drive to work. NPR, morning talk shows were my daily source of talking points as I venture to interact with the people around me; the springboard to my foray into the actual world if you will. Without it, I have no idea what’s cool. I am reduced to that awkward individual who is utterly clueless as to who is the latest American Idol, who got voted off some reality TV show, what character of Grey’s Anatomy died off in the season finale, who got lost in LOST.
It was an isolating experience; the silence in the car as I sat through traffic lights was almost unbearable. I became bored, and I don’t do well in monotony because I started doing stupid things. I would sing as loud as I could on long rides so that I won’t fall asleep. I would bob my head up and down to non-existence music whenever a hot chick, or a cop, drives near me so as to come across suave (hey, no one said I actually knew what being smooth looked like). What is more, I find myself mumbling to myself. Yep, one of the tell-tale signs of becoming crazy is when you start talking to nobody- and there I was, talking to nobody. Gradually, however, I did began to direct my monologues to another source… G-d. It was an interesting transition. I don’t quite know how it happened, one minute I was driving nonchalantly down the highway, the next I found myself reciting the Lord’s prayer. Just like that, I found a new routine, I pray during my commute. It was weird at first, because when I was first taught to pray as a child, I was taught to do so reverently, in a sacred space, in a time set aside especially for G-d. For me, that meant in front of an altar, beside the bed, or at the table. Not driving 70 mph down a stretch of highway, doing shoulder checks, merging left and right (although, looking at it now, there isn’t a more appropriate time and place for it). It almost felt sacrilege at first, as if I am simultaneously g-chatting to a friend and talking to my parents on the phone while sitting on the commode (not that I really do that, but I know people who do…).
How am I supposed to devote myself whole-heartedly to G-d in prayer if I am at the same time trying to avoid a collision? Is there a repercussion for flipping someone the bird while praying for forgiveness? It raises certain theological dilemmas, prayer in cars. What happens if I get pulled over, and the cop asks me do I have any idea how fast I was going? Could I then answered “I was so moved by the spirit?” Can I use the HOV lane, after-all I am traveling with G-d the father, G-d the son and G-d the holy spirit? Anyway, these are the kind of things I think about after my commute. But more importantly… I pray during my commute. Someone once said to me that we pray during stolen moments. And this was a stolen moment, the silence granted by the lack of a radio became my sacred space for me to commune with G-d. What I thought at first was a nuisance became a source of my comfort as I sought to start and end my day with G-d, a prayer for a great beginning in the morning, and an evening prayer of thanks for a decent ending. My prayer life, which was almost non-existence after college became vibrant again as I found myself filling the void with prayers and thoughts sent randomly to G-d. I began to make good use of the silence to list out the things that I am thankful for, and the things that bothered me, and I present them equally. Sometimes, G-d would even reply, like when I am feeling particularly unhappy about my current situation, he would show me a car that got pulled over, and that often serves to brighten up my day significantly. Or if I feel vengeful, he would show me ugly looking pedestrians and squirrels so that I may… just kidding.
In all seriousness though, I have no idea how much I took for granted the things that I have. It made me realize that in every little negative experience, there is an opportunity for an even better one. I complained about not having a radio in my car, when in reality I needed the silence to get in touch with my deeper humanity. We have all become so accustomed to having distractions in our lives, every moment filled with activities of some sort that we forget sometime what we really need is to slow down, quiet down, sit down and just be. We drive with radios on full blast at times, but it is probably worth our while just to shut it off and listen to the wind billowing by. We bob our heads up and down, when we really should be gazing from side to side to gain a better sense of our surroundings. Driving is not just about getting from one place to another, but it is about experiencing the scenery as we go by, feeling the freedom that we are behind the wheels. Don’t be distracted, instead, enjoy it, and once in a while, say a little prayer because you may never know if those little prayers could save others from praying seriously on your behalf.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
George Bailey Moments
"Have you ever had one of those days where nothing all that monumental happens, but by the end of it you have no idea who you are or what the hell you are doing with your life? Do you ever have one of those days?" ~ Robin from the TV series How I Met Your Mother
In my years of studying psychology as an undergrad, nothing really prepared me for moments like these-when I would find myself stopped so abruptly by seemingly nothing at all, and be confronted with the sensation that I am insignificant. I have come to called these moments my George Bailey moments, more or less because I find myself pondering what differences am I making, and what it would have been like had I not existed at all. Do I matter at all?
Is it, then, a question of ego? The desire to know that one's efforts have not be in vain? That one has indeed made a difference in this transitory world? I know that the world was revolving long before I arrived, and that it will continue to do so long after I am gone. But wouldn't it be nice, even if just for a little bit, especially in these moments, that I would be comforted with the knowledge that I am not sand on stone, or another autumn leaf.
Am I doing something wrong, because if I am working as hard as I perceive I am, why then this feeling of insignificance? I guess in the end human existence is never easy... and to each their own set of problems. we can only hope that we dare to test the limits of our individual strength. So that when the day of judgement arrives, when we judge ourselves, we can say without hesitation that we did the best we could with what we have, and that what little regrets we may have, our accomplishment suffice to overcome it. That, regardless of how insignificant it may feel at the time, that in the grand scheme of things, we played one of three roles: the originator, the facilitator, and the benefactor of some action... and that it was necessary.
In my years of studying psychology as an undergrad, nothing really prepared me for moments like these-when I would find myself stopped so abruptly by seemingly nothing at all, and be confronted with the sensation that I am insignificant. I have come to called these moments my George Bailey moments, more or less because I find myself pondering what differences am I making, and what it would have been like had I not existed at all. Do I matter at all?
Is it, then, a question of ego? The desire to know that one's efforts have not be in vain? That one has indeed made a difference in this transitory world? I know that the world was revolving long before I arrived, and that it will continue to do so long after I am gone. But wouldn't it be nice, even if just for a little bit, especially in these moments, that I would be comforted with the knowledge that I am not sand on stone, or another autumn leaf.
Am I doing something wrong, because if I am working as hard as I perceive I am, why then this feeling of insignificance? I guess in the end human existence is never easy... and to each their own set of problems. we can only hope that we dare to test the limits of our individual strength. So that when the day of judgement arrives, when we judge ourselves, we can say without hesitation that we did the best we could with what we have, and that what little regrets we may have, our accomplishment suffice to overcome it. That, regardless of how insignificant it may feel at the time, that in the grand scheme of things, we played one of three roles: the originator, the facilitator, and the benefactor of some action... and that it was necessary.
Monday, May 4, 2009
In the time of nick
If you have ever shaved using a razor blade, be it your face or your legs, chances are at one point or another you may have accidentally nicked yourself. Without going too much into the gory details and grossing people out, it is very likely that there were a lot of blood, and your first instinct may have been to panic slightly. After all, in this biblically oriented society, there is this underlying notion that fluids should remain in the body, and that the expulsion of any fluids is either a cause for alarm, and/or considered unclean.
Needless to say, for those of you have experienced such nicks, you would have probably come to realize that as bad as it may look, a nick is a nick is a nick. A mere abrasion of the epidermal layer resulting in the rupture of skin capillaries at a microscopic level, which in the grand scheme of things is no big deal. That is unless you are on blood thinners, lacking in calcium pectate and/or are an anemic... if that is the case, then seek medical assistance immediately. If not, then... after applying pressure, ice, vaseline and/ or alcohol to the region, you will find that life moves on.
Why am I bringing all this up? Because it has occurred to me that much of the drama in our daily lives is very much like these little nicks we gave ourselves from time to time. First, one must understand that these nicks have a higher probability of happening if your blade is dulled, and your reflexes slow. Similarly, when drama occurs, it is very likely because we are caught unprepared. So, be prepared, sharpen your tools, hone in your skills, and quicken your wit.
Also, in that singular moment when a small inconvenience occur we find our world suddenly narrowed to just that one thing. We become enraptured by the theatrics, so much so that what is in actuality a mere trickle becomes a gushing volcano of molten larva threatening to inundate all else. Due to our lack of preparation or vigilance, our mind is incapable of coming up with a better response other than "Oh my god, I am bleeding, I am bleeding, I am bleeding". You are frozen there, at once fascinated by the fountain of blood that is bursting forth from so small a wound, your entire being transfixed by an exaggerated internal commentary aimed to evoke an even greater emotional response, usually in the form of distress under duress.
There, you are, a dolt- a hopeless, hapless, shivering, whimpering pathetic dolt. And for what?! A nick. The remedies to fixing a nick is simple, as mentioned before... cleanse it with alcohol, apply pressure, ice it, put on some vaseline, and simply let time mend it. Same with those little dramas in life. You can fix it by sterilizing the situation, riding the situation of all unnecessary emotional quotient. Put some effort into it, do what you can, then live it on the back burner for time to resolve it. It's simple, it's easy. Drama is over, back to life.
Needless to say, for those of you have experienced such nicks, you would have probably come to realize that as bad as it may look, a nick is a nick is a nick. A mere abrasion of the epidermal layer resulting in the rupture of skin capillaries at a microscopic level, which in the grand scheme of things is no big deal. That is unless you are on blood thinners, lacking in calcium pectate and/or are an anemic... if that is the case, then seek medical assistance immediately. If not, then... after applying pressure, ice, vaseline and/ or alcohol to the region, you will find that life moves on.
Why am I bringing all this up? Because it has occurred to me that much of the drama in our daily lives is very much like these little nicks we gave ourselves from time to time. First, one must understand that these nicks have a higher probability of happening if your blade is dulled, and your reflexes slow. Similarly, when drama occurs, it is very likely because we are caught unprepared. So, be prepared, sharpen your tools, hone in your skills, and quicken your wit.
Also, in that singular moment when a small inconvenience occur we find our world suddenly narrowed to just that one thing. We become enraptured by the theatrics, so much so that what is in actuality a mere trickle becomes a gushing volcano of molten larva threatening to inundate all else. Due to our lack of preparation or vigilance, our mind is incapable of coming up with a better response other than "Oh my god, I am bleeding, I am bleeding, I am bleeding". You are frozen there, at once fascinated by the fountain of blood that is bursting forth from so small a wound, your entire being transfixed by an exaggerated internal commentary aimed to evoke an even greater emotional response, usually in the form of distress under duress.
There, you are, a dolt- a hopeless, hapless, shivering, whimpering pathetic dolt. And for what?! A nick. The remedies to fixing a nick is simple, as mentioned before... cleanse it with alcohol, apply pressure, ice it, put on some vaseline, and simply let time mend it. Same with those little dramas in life. You can fix it by sterilizing the situation, riding the situation of all unnecessary emotional quotient. Put some effort into it, do what you can, then live it on the back burner for time to resolve it. It's simple, it's easy. Drama is over, back to life.
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