Spider

What a strange coincidence it is to have gotten stung by a bee last Friday, where at first with my imagination running wild I had mistakenly thought, for a fleeting moment, that I was getting bit by a brown recluse spider, which turned out to be a bee sting, only to find just three days later an actual confirmed brown recluse in the apartment for the first time ever in my life. What are the odds of that?

Well thank goodness I am a night owl and was still awake at one o'clock in the morning, to prevent my cat from getting bit by the second most poisonous spider in North America (the first being the Black Widow). Had that happened he would have more than likely died from it, and had I gotten bit, it would have more than likely meant a trip to the hospital emergency room. He was just about to pounce for it, when I held him back just in the nick of time, capturing the spider with an empty yogurt container. And yes I released it outside, alive and well, contrary perhaps to my better judgement.

No doubt about it this time, it was the real deal. Here's a cropped picture of it, taken while captured, followed by an inverted version of it.

Notice the violin pattern, with the base starting at its head, and the neck running down its body. That's its signature marking, giving it the alternate name of 'The Violin Spider'. This thing was crawling across my living room floor at one o'clock this morning headed toward the wall, where my cat had been diligently stalking it, and was just about to pounce. Who knows how long it had been in here, or how it got in. Had it not been for the cat, we wouldn't have known about it until perhaps it was too late, perhaps after someone got bit by it.

So far since being in this apartment, as far as creepy crawlies go, I've seen one scorpion (click here to read the post about it) and three scary looking spiders, but this one I think was probably the scariest of them all.

I don't like it one bit. And don't think I'll be sleeping on the floor here ever again. I love nature, and am not bothered by nor afraid of most bugs, but I've never liked spiders. In fact, you could very well say that I am very much afraid of them, am a full fledged arachnophobiac. Always have been. But I still have an aversion to killing them, and somehow manage to muster up the courage to capture and release them despite my fear.

Well, just thought I'd document the experience, being that it was my first brown recluse sighting ever in my life, thought it was worth sharing.

Bee Sting

I had sort of a rough day today. Had to wake up much earlier than usual, to do a side job that recently fell into my hands, as sort of a personal assistant slash house and cat sitter. The house sitting doesn't happen until next month, but today I had to do some shopping and heavy lifting for this person early this morning. I was dead tired, was up very late the night before, but the money was well worth it. It's not going to get me out of Arizona anytime soon, or even into my own apartment, but it will at least get me that new pair of trail running shoes, and a few other odds and ends, that I've been desperately needing; with all that extra mileage I've been putting in walking, my shoes are pretty much worn out.

I guess that "metallic toad dream" I had couple of weeks ago, turned out to be a prophecy after all (see comments section for reference). Although I haven't yet inherited a large fortune from that long lost relative I've never met, nor has my fantasy of finding a large sum of money lying on the side of road been fulfilled, but the money that did recently come my way was completely unexpected, was sort of a windfall more or less, of pretty much easy money falling my way, when I was very close to being all tapped out, too broke for beer even, which is never a fun position to be in, especially at a time when you need the beer more than ever.

So the money aspect of the day was good, but I did not sleep well, and it was very hot today, the hottest day of the week, at about 108 degrees. During my travels later in the day, I also stopped off at the library. I had a couple of DVDs come in that I had on hold for awhile, "Contagion" and "The Way", that I was anxious to have for the weekend. In total I walked about a mile, and by the time I got home, I was completely drenched in sweat. Not only was it 108 degrees outside, but the humidity levels are rising as we enter our monsoon season, which means it was quite a hot and humid day.

Well anyway, after getting back from the library, I noticed that my shirt was soaking wet. I was commenting on it, to one of my housemates, when I felt a pricking sensation on my chest under my shirt. At first I thought maybe a cactus needle got stuck in my shirt, but then I realized it was a bug stinging me. At first I only saw its shadow, and really truly believed at the time that I was getting bit by a spider, a large thick legged poisonous spider, is what I pictured in my mind, like maybe a brown recluse or something, and it had gotten me. I freaked out, rushing to get it off of me, screaming like a little girl the whole time, which is the absolute worst way to handle the situation. Hey what can I say, I was sleep deprived, overcome by the heat, and completely worn out. So anyway, I brushed it off and when it landed on the ground, it turned out to be a bee and its stinger was still embedded in me.

I caught the bee, covered it with a container, and then removed the stinger from my flesh, and applied ice. The area on my chest where I was stung, swelled up quite a bit, or at least it was noticeable, was very red and painful. But pretty much returned to normal, at least as far as I can tell, within about an hour. I have only been stung by a bee a couple times in my life, but this was the first bee sting I had in over twenty years, and the first in Arizona.

Of course the bee died. Apparently when honeybees sting you, the stinger when it is left behind, embedded in this case in my chest, it rips the flesh out of their body. They do not survive. I felt very upset about that, that this bee died because it stung me. I'm not happy about that. I felt very sad actually. I blame myself, for not paying attention, for not noticing the bee landing on me. Although it's true that it stung me without being provoked. In other words, it did not sting me because I panicked, I panicked because it stung me. But I'm thinking, because I was so preoccupied with my sweat soaked shirt, that I may have disturbed it by rearranging my shirt, or touching the area without noticing it was there, thus sending it into defense mode.

Either way, I don't like it when things die unnecessarily, or if my actions in anyway inadvertently contributed to a life forms demise. I mourn the dead honey bee, who died because I was stung. What a horrible curse, to act in defense to save one's own life, only to die as a result. What a cruel irony it is. I may have more to say about the subject later, but I'm very tired, and ready to open up a cold beer, and watch one of my movies, probably "The Way", about the Way of St. James, also known as the Camino de Santiago, a pilgrimage trail connecting France to Spain.

Musings on Diversity and Localism

"Cotton kills."

I'm sure you've heard that before. It's in reference to wearing cotton based fabrics in cold weather conditions, in that, cotton loses its insulating ability when wet, which could be deadly when worn in freezing temperatures.

I don't know why I was thinking about this, but it just popped into my mind last night completely out of the blue. I guess maybe it was because it was so unbearably hot outside that I was thinking about taking a vacation near an iceberg. Contemplating the adage, "cotton kills," lead to a long chain of associations in my mind, about the materials we use in various products, such as clothing, building materials, etc., being most suited for the climate of the materials origin.

For instance, cotton clothing is probably most suited for the type of climate where cotton plants grow, which is generally hot weather conditions. Which means that the statement "cotton kills" is only applicable to cold weather conditions, and not at all true in hot weather conditions, or those conditions where the cotton plant naturally thrives.

Okay, we all know this right? Nothing new here. But the essential insight I got from this, is that the same general principle is true I think for all things, at least in reference to natural materials. Synthetics, on the other hand, are a crap shoot, their efficacy depending entirely on whether their design matches the needs of the climate. Generally the best materials to use for any given place, are those that are either locally obtained, or if imported, come from, or are adapted to, an environment having similar climatic and geographical conditions.

That generally, what's best for the south, comes from the south. What's best for the north, comes from the north. What's best for the desert, comes from the desert. What's best for the tropics, comes from the tropics. What's best for the mountains, comes from the mountains. What's best for the forests, comes from the forests. What's best for the plains, comes from the plains. Or what works well in dry conditions, probably will not work well in humid conditions. What works well in cold conditions, probably won't work well in hot conditions.

It's so obvious, right? But look around you, and see how much stuff follows a standard homogeneous cookie cutter design, used everywhere the same way, even when it is not appropriate to the local conditions.

This is another example of the importance of diversity. Not diversity for diversities sake, or solely for the appearance of diversity, but diversity in the sense of different places having different strengths and weaknesses, and different needs, which require using different methods, that invariably produce different results. Diversity in the sense that the world should not look the same everywhere, or use the same materials or methods wherever you go.

But diversity is not just about appearances, it is about adapting to different conditions in ways that are most appropriate to those conditions. Doing things the same way, when it is in fact the best way for the present conditions, is not wrong. Doing things in different ways that don't work well for the present conditions, just for the sake of valuing or promoting diversity, may be wrong. That is a distortion of diversity. Misunderstanding that diversity is a product of environment, and should not be reproduced in environments inappropriate to it. Or in other words, what works here, may not work there, and to force something to fit in the name of diversity, is like forcing a square peg into a round hole, and not at all a healthy form of diversity at all.

It is not healthy diversity to import building materials or clothing that is most suited for humid conditions, if it is to be used in dry conditions.

I'm wondering if there is some greater truth here, concerning diversity and localism, that extends beyond material resources, that applies to systems and cultures and intellectual ideas, about how to build cities, how to manage businesses, how to organize societies, and how to govern people.

This is not at all a complete idea, but was just an example of the associations that came to mind last night as a result of contemplating the idea that "cotton kills," but not always, sometimes it is actually the best and most suitable fabric around, depending on where you live and how you use it.

What I learned by thinking about this is that the factors that determine the suitability of any given material or method, and which is also the primary shaper of cultural diversity, is more often than not the actual environmental conditions and unique physical geography of the earth itself.

Attempting to make everyone the same in all places, is just as unhealthy and counter to true diversity, as making all places equally diverse representations of all things; that is, importing diversity simply for the appearance of diversity, like for example, encouraging the use of different building materials or clothing, even though they may be inappropriate for the local conditions, is not real diversity. It is a mockery of diversity, because real diversity is a product of the natural adaptation to different physical environments over time, where culture is the result. Culture is the effect, environment is the cause. When you put different people in one place together, over time, this group of people becomes something completely different than what it used to be, where they become more alike than different, but completely different than what they were before.

Example, you can export a bunch of cotton clothing to cold weather climates, but eventually people are going to figure out that the local materials, that grow well in that environment, like wool, for instance, is much better. People adapt to the land, and if they don't, they have a difficult time, or they don't survive at all. Diversity is a direct response to the land. Different land, materials, and methods produce different culture.

A multicultural rainbow means absolutely nothing, other than being a shallow facade of diversity, if everybody looks different but thinks the same, or if the way we think and act is out of harmony with the needs dictated by the environment.

Obstacles to Inspiration

There are a lot of things I miss about my old home, namely the privacy (not sharing walls with strangers or living in close proximity to a lot of people) and the spacious park like common areas with well established vegetation between homes, but what I miss most I think are the animals. Being able to sit outside and not having buildings and covered parking obstructing the view, but instead seeing trees and well established plants, and the wildlife they invariably attract.

I was wondering why there are so few animals here. Other than a few birds during the day, a few house cats that venture outdoors, and the occasional javelina passing through during the middle of the night, there are no squirrels or rabbits whatsoever. They do live outside the complex, on the surrounding properties next door, but not here. I was thinking at first that it was because they frequently spray pesticides all over the common areas, and they over-prune the vegetation. Destroy the food source, poison the land, yeah that'll do it. But again, I was thinking that's not the only reason. The other reason that came to me last night, that I had never really considered before, was that the absence of wildlife is closely connected to the fact that there is a higher population density here compared to where I was living before. That the animals needing solitude and silence to feel at peace, do not feel comfortable here. There are just too many people, too many cars, too many buildings, too much noise. And with less developed areas available next door, there is little incentive for them to live here.

So I was thinking about this last night, while sitting outside on the patio drinking my first beer of the night. I actually do some of my best thinking while drinking a beer and just staring off into space, generally focusing my eyes at a far distant object like the mountains, the sky, or the horizon, or perhaps focusing on a sound in the distance, and letting my mind daydream and process ideas that perhaps wouldn't have room to occur in any other circumstances. But I'm finding that the inspiration doesn't come as easily as it used to, and I'm seeing a connection between that and the surroundings I'm presently living in. Not just the desert, or the fact that I really don't like the city I'm living in, but even more so it is the lack of natural space in this apartment complex that is upsetting me.

I'm sitting on my patio and find that I am not at all inspired by my surroundings, that it is very difficult to feel inspired here, fundamentally because of the lack of space, the lack of air circulation, the lack of nature, that I feel like I'm being squeezed in a vise with barely any room to breath. While there is a tree next to the patio, and a clearing in the sky where I can just barely see a small patchwork of stars, but for the most part what dominates the landscape are the two storied apartment buildings surrounding me on all sides, and the parking lot, the lighted covered parking structures, and several vehicles. While there is some landscaping, other than a few token trees (but only one that can really be appreciated from my vantage point), it is pitiful.

It's like nobody cares about the plants, like nobody cares about the aesthetic ambiance of the landscape. And you know what, the sad thing about it, is that it's not just the management, or the landscaper's themselves, but that more than likely the people I'm living around don't see anything amiss, aren't bothered by it. Okay, I haven't interviewed everyone, but let's call it a vibe I'm getting, an intuitive hunch, the fact that other than a few dog walkers, I rarely ever see anyone else walking or riding a bike in the complex, and I don't just mean now in the summer, but as long as I've lived here, about ten months now, they all drive everywhere, even just to get the mail or go to the dumpster; nature appears to be of secondary, possibly trivial importance.

Reminds me of an incident at a job years back. About five years ago, I was working for a very horrible company, with horribly sleazy and unscrupulous people, including co-workers, management, and owners. There are a variety of situations that helped form my conclusion about this place, but I'll never forget these two particular instances of such blatant arrogance and disrespect for poor people and nature. The first incident occurred while I was sitting at my work terminal one day looking out the window, seeing these overpaid salesman outside on their smoke break taunting a disheveled looking homeless man who got too close to one of their cars. Not much more to say about that, but the impression has lasted with me all this time, of the disgust and hatred I felt for these grown men with six figure incomes acting like obnoxious school boy bullies.

The other incident was watching one of the managers, this fat ass bald headed prick, who just happened to be the company's Vice President's brother, using a thick phone book to smash a squirrel to death that had gotten into the building and was trapped in a hallway within a few feet of an exit door. Ah he could have opened the door, but no, killing the animal, that he obviously considered to be a worthlessly trivial nuisance, was much easier. With not a thought of doing a good deed, of saving a life, because its life meant absolutely nothing to him. By the way, he was a major asshole, and after I quit that job, I ran a police report on him, and he had a DUI and couple of Domestic Violence charges. I was like, yeah, hmm, nice group of people I was working for, a bunch of unethical sleazebags making more money in a month than I made all year, how lovely.

How does this relate to my apartment complex woes? The fact is is that I think it is true to say that the status quo is to be disconnected from nature. More people are out of tune with the natural rhythms of nature than are in tune with it, and the places we live reflect that and reinforce our disconnected attitudes towards ourselves, one another, and the natural world. The more unnatural your environment, the more disconnected you become from your environment. Basically it's a coping mechanism, when it's ugly outside, you tend to retreat inside. If you live in a place with very few trees, very few plants, very few animals, very little space, and very little healthy air flow, where it is ugly and stifling and completely man-made and out of balance, it's going to have a negative effect on your psyche, and being a major obstacle to inspiration, will more than likely have a dulling effect on your creativity.

It's not that man-made structures are inherently unhealthy or uninspiring, or that nature is superior to civilization. Quite the contrary. But the two must work together in balance, keeping an eye for aesthetics, healthiness, and functionality. Otherwise, without that, the whole world will go to hell: diminished people, in diminished landscapes, living diminished lives.

Simple Pleasures

Pretty much my primary interests, and what I spend most of my "free time" doing -- that is, when I'm not working, running errands, or doing chores around the house -- is reading, exercising, and spending time outdoors, either walking, cycling, or just communing with nature (which may also include stargazing, meditating, taking pictures, identifying local plants and animals, and becoming better acquainted with the land).

I don't really include photography as a hobby though, although I suppose it is, but I don't know much about the science of photography, nor do I really have very much interest in that aspect of it. I just like taking pictures, primarily nature pictures, documenting what I see, effortlessly, more along the lines of the point and shoot variety, and that's good enough for me.

But that's pretty much it: books, exercise, and nature.

I don't play any musical instruments (though I used to play the guitar, a conga drum, and the piano, all at a beginner level, but have no interest in taking it up again). I don't belong to any clubs or organizations. Don't take any classes. Don't participate in organized religious services. Don't play any sports, although I used to play badminton and tennis, but it's been awhile. All my athletic activities: running, walking, cycling, weight training, calisthenics, hacky sack, are primarily solitary pursuits.

Apparently I give off an artist vibe, and people often mistakenly assume that I am an artist, of the painting and drawing variety, but I am not. Although, yes I certainly have an appreciation for the arts, and in many ways I would say that I do in fact think like an artist, in the way that I look upon the world, thinking and feeling deeply about things, and valuing freedom, authenticity, and creative self-expression as higher ideals, but I do not paint or draw, and have very little interest in doing so; not that I never will, but I'd rather look at the ocean, than paint it, though I'd more than likely photograph it. Maybe if I lived in a world without cameras, then and only then would I have become a prolific painter.

Some people who are always on the go, who always have to be doing something socially, whether that be going out to eat, going out for coffee, going out for drinks, going to the movies, going out dancing, going to a concert, going to a festival, going to a sporting event, etc., such people would probably say that I don't have much of a life, or would find my life to be extremely boring. That's alright. I used to do all the above activities, but no longer care to do so. Not because I'm depressed, although I am, but that has no bearing on my lack of interest in those activities. It is my choice. It doesn't interest me. I hate the noise of crowds. I also hate eating in public. I only eat out if I'm desperate, if I'm very hungry, and have no other option. But I generally don't enjoy eating out, and when I do, I usually get it to go, or get a table outside. And if I'm planning on being out all day, I usually pack my own lunch. In other words, I don't go to restaurants, bars, clubs, or cafes for the fun of it. I have sometimes made exceptions for the sake of other people, but I generally don't enjoy being in those environments. Yeah, I know I'm weird. I've pretty much been an oddity all my life.

Though I think it would be different if I were in another country. If I were visiting Italy or France, for instance, or basically any other country where I did not fluently understand the language, I think I'd probably enjoy more of the public venues. That's pretty much the only time I remember really enjoying those things, was for the most part when traveling to a different city that I hadn't been to before, but even more so if the culture is substantially different. Why this is, I'm not sure, but there is something very intriguing to me about observing people speaking in a foreign language that I do not understand, and must attempt to understand by other means, such as reading facial expressions, speech inflections, and postures. Not that I enjoy not understanding people, but it's fun to be exposed to something completely different and out of the ordinary. So it's not just about being a different language, but a different culture. Which is why even though I live in the Southwest, where Spanish is heard about as frequently as English, it's still the same American Southwestern culture more or less. Maybe it would be exotic to you if you've never been here, but for me it is so common place, not in the least bit foreign, and not really all that interesting to me.

So maybe I'd go out more socially if I were traveling abroad or someplace very culturally different, although that probably wouldn't last long before I tire of all the social and cultural stimulation and once again find myself yearning to return to the quiet solitude of nature, but while in my own country and in the city I'm presently living in, I'm pretty much content with the slow and solitary pursuits of either staying home reading and exercising, or enjoying the simple pleasures of the outdoors.

Tired and Running on Empty

A rant about the weather; nothing inspiring here.

Yeah, it's been a rough week. The heat is really getting to me again. Haven't been able to walk as much as I have been the last few months, it's just been way too hot. I can't seem to motivate myself to walk really early in the morning when it's cooler, and I don't feel comfortable walking regularly at night either. It seems to be the case that whenever it is a good time for me, mentally and physically, it's just too damn hot to walk further than a mile. I'm also getting way too tanned. I'm twice as dark as my mother now, and probably three times as dark as my dad, this is from the bad habit of not always wearing long sleeved shirts. Having a tan to some extent is nice, but I'm getting to be darker than I'd like be, and for the first time in my life I've become concerned about getting skin cancer.

Though I guess it could be worse, I could be living in Yuma, for instance. I watched a documentary about Yuma, Arizona last night on the Weather Channel, and did you know that it's the hottest and driest and sunniest city in the United States, averaging about 360 days of sunshine a year? I've never been there before, but it sure looked like a horrible place to live. Not much there. Looked like a barren wasteland actually. I'm actually thinking that maybe I should move back to a cold climate, (of course the money is not there, just thinking out loud) but not too cold, just someplace that is comfortable to walk and ride a bike all year round and at anytime of the day. Never before did I realize just how important that is to me. Walking really has become an important part of my life, and not being able to walk whenever I want to, is really messing me up.

Not only is it important to live in a climate that is not too extreme, neither too hot or too cold, where one can comfortably walk a few miles everyday without endangering one's health, but also living in a community with walkability, where the automobile isn't king, and most of your basic lifestyle needs are within walking distance from where you live or work, not having to drive several miles just to buy groceries or to go to the park. That's what I'd like. Naturally, I don't expect to be completely cloistered within a five mile radius, travel will happen, and access to reliable public transportation is always a good thing, but it's also nice to know that if you wanted to you could get along fine without a motor vehicle. Not so much the case here.

Fortunately there is a shopping center within walking distance, so I'm not completely out in the middle of nowhere, but I still have to travel at least five to ten miles for anything else. Which again, is doable by bicycle, but it's very difficult when it's 107 degrees outside, and we won't be seeing the 70s again for daytime highs until maybe November. I just don't think I have it in me anymore. This heat is running me down and wearing me out. It's like being in a car on a hot summer day with the windows rolled up without AC, and that's pretty much what it's like here from May to October. And it hasn't rained in I don't know how long. I mean of course it doesn't rain much in the desert, but each year that goes by it seems like the rain is becoming far more infrequent. It really does suck. In fact, I think it is no exaggeration to say that it's ruining my life. It's like doing hard time in a Siberian prison camp, that is, if Siberia were relocated to a place like Death Valley.

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Gemini Dreams and Insights

Metallic Toad Dream

I had a dream last night that I was sitting out on my patio and noticed a spider web up above me. It extended from a corner of the patio's ceiling with strands of webbing attached to some of the potted plants in front of where I was sitting. The webbing was sort of in the way, that someone could accidentally walk into it, so I cleared it away, just the bottom strands, and left the uppermost part of the web attached to the corner. Finally I see the spider curled up into a ball in the deepest shadow of the corner. It was white and large, with almost a squarish body, and my first thought was that it may be poisonous.

I looked away for a moment, but when I looked again in the same spot, instead of a spider, it was now a round silver coin, which appeared to be very old and of foreign currency, attached to the web. The spider appeared to have changed into a coin, or perhaps I had doubts about it having been a spider in the first place. As I'm thinking this, the coin turns around to its other side, and reveals itself to be not a coin, but a small metallic looking toad. Not a lifeless object, but a living creature. No sooner than revealing itself, or shape shifting into a toad, it quickly moves further into the shadow, and disappears completely into a hole in the wall. And that was it. End of dream.

Random Insights

I had these random insights a few days ago. The first one occurred to me while watching a movie. Just completely out of the blue, unrelated to the subject of the movie itself, I was looking at a woman on the screen and this thought spontaneously popped into my mind:

"The Body is a Spacesuit For the Soul"

Assumption being that there is a non-material essence underlying the fundamental being of each person. Perhaps you could call it a mixture of consciousness and spirit, spirit being the energy that animates the body, soul being the individual personality of the spirit, and consciousness being what links spirit to matter, as a self-aware being living among other self-aware beings.

Nothing too revolutionary here, and I'm sure anyone who doubts the existence of a non-material reality or spirit, would think the idea completely absurd and dismiss me as being a naive flake, but either way I thought it was interesting to think of our bodies as being like spacesuits perfectly adapted for earthly travel.

Just like astronauts can't walk on the moon without wearing a spacesuit, people can't walk on the earth without a physical body. But the body is more like a vehicle or a specially fitted outfit of clothing, than the actual person. The body as a tool essential to our survival in this environment, is an extension of our being, but it is not the source, or the fundamental substance of who and what we are.

"The Power of Will"

This other insight I had shortly before going to bed a few nights ago after having had a couple of beers. I was holding this almost empty bottle of beer in my hand and thinking about what was stopping me from throwing this bottle of beer against the wall. I had no intention of doing so, but just as a sort of thought experiment, the idea entered my mind. Well, of course, thinking about the consequences of it is what stopped me. The broken glass. The spilled beer. The mess. The noise. The anger it would cause my housemates. It would be a totally senseless act, with absolutely no good reason for doing so. But what was really stopping me? The power of the will, that's what.

The power of the will is extremely strong. It's like a superglue. Once an idea sticks, it's very difficult to get it unstuck. Thinking about this beer bottle and the choice not to throw it against the wall, got me thinking about the greater role Will plays in the physical laws of the universe, and to what extent Will is a defining ingredient in determining whether something is possible or impossible.

What role does will play in things like gravity, and not being able to walk through walls? What role does will play in the aging process, in what is considered to be the natural lifespan of the human being? Perhaps it is possible to change reality and to redefine the limits of what is possible and impossible, by changing and refocusing the power of the will. To walk through walls. To astral project your consciousness thousands of miles away without "physically" leaving the room you are in. The ability to see with microscopic vision, with telescopic vision, to see into the future and the past, and to do these things without the use of external technological devices like telephones and computers, but purely through the conscious manipulation of your mind and the power of your will.

The power of the will is not just a matter of thinking differently or trying to convince yourself of something, but is actually a matter of really believing it with all of your being on both a conscious and a much deeper subconscious level. You have to really actually believe it. As long as you "know" that it's impossible to walk through walls, either through personal experience or because all the scientific studies say so, your will shall reflect that impossibility. But as soon as a scientific breakthrough is made in that area to enable that to happen, it will revise your entire thinking on the matter, and what was previously considered impossible, becomes possible, because the information needed to support that idea, to confirm it in your will, has been modified.

Because the power of will is not just an individual matter, but is shaped in great part by the power of consensus, or collective agreement, reinforced by way of authority, popular culture, science, religion, and the law. The more people who believe in something and are told it is true, the more powerful and the more real this something becomes.

Addendum (added a few hours later):  The point of this insight, concerning the power of will, is that physical laws operate according to a similar principle, and that by observing the power and influence of your own will power in action, you can gain a better understanding of how the universe works. Or something like that. Just thinking out loud here, trying to retrace the line of thought going through my mind a few days ago, and writing about it here after the fact.

Blogging is What you Make of it

As a new addition to the sidebar, I've added a list of some of my reasons for blogging.

REASONS FOR BLOGGING

1. It's good writing practice.

2. It's good thinking practice.

3. It's therapeutic.

4. It's a healthy creative outlet.

5. It's a gift freely given, without expectation of fame or fortune; as a lifetime diarist, it's something I'd be doing anyway, so may as well share it.

This list is not complete, and I may add to it later, but these are the main reasons that come to mind. Though the one reason I felt in need of elaborating upon, was the point about blogging being a healthy creative outlet. I thought that needed some explaining, in light of the fact that there have been many occasions here where I've called blogging, social networking, and this whole communicating with strangers online unwholesome and unhealthy. So what the hell do I mean?

Well obviously I have mixed feelings about it, but really, blogging is essentially writing, and whatever good can be derived from writing, could just as easily apply to blogging. So if blogging were truly an unwholesome and unhealthy activity, it would also have to apply to writing in general. But since I don't think that is the case, it would suggest that it's not that blogging or using the internet as a vehicle of self-expression is inherently unwholesome, but that what you choose to blog about, your choice of content is what determines its value, not the act of blogging or the medium of the internet itself. In other words, if something is unwholesome online, it's probably just as unwholesome offline. Whether or not blogging is a healthy creative outlet depends entirely on your content and your intention.

I blog because I like to write. I like expressing my thoughts in writing. I do some of my best thinking in writing. Where the process of putting my thoughts into words, helps me clarify and improve my understanding of them. Plus having an audience which could potentially be anyone, adds an element of mystery and excitement to the process, and also makes it a much more serious matter, where I need to be more mindful of what I write, and I like that added element. So that's why I blog. But I'm not what you would call a writer in the formal sense of writing as a profession. I know my grammar is far from perfect. I don't edit and polish my posts as much as I probably should. I primarily write for myself. And if I were to call myself a writer, I would say that I am a diarist above all else. Not just because of this blog, but because I've been writing in a paper diary for most of my life, and it is something I'll continue doing with or without a blog or an audience.

But anyway, getting back to the topic of whether or not blogging is a healthy creative outlet. I would say it is in the same sense that keeping a personal paper journal is a healthy creative outlet.

While there are different types of blogs, blogging usually refers to a specific type of writing, ordinarily what we call creative journal writing. The difference between a personal paper journal and a blog, is that a blog enables you to have an audience, people interested in reading your journal, and also provides the means to receive feedback and interact with your readers; whereas a paper journal generally doesn't. Keeping a journal is a creative and potentially therapeutic activity. Expressing your thoughts in writing, whether it be a personal play by play story of your life, or a collection of personal opinions and beliefs, is a creative project. I think keeping a journal is a healthy creative activity, but when keeping a public journal, it's very critical to decide what to share and what to keep private. I don't think it's a good idea to share everything with strangers. It's better to be selective, to keep some elements of your life private, to maintain certain boundaries, and to exercise a good deal of discretion and common sense at all times.

I don't think it's a good idea to blog about everything, or to have your whole life as an open book. Because then people will think that they already know you, and that there is nothing more to learn, because they already know it all from the blog. They will know you without having really known you. Putting your whole life online, I think to some extent diminishes it, because you'll never know a person completely from a blog or a book or a film, so it is better to maintain some element of mystery at all times, to not bare it all. Which means you show some, but in a way that is tastefully elegant, that still leaves room for the imagination; being honest, without sacrificing your dignity and privacy in the process.

That being said, blogging can certainly be a healthy creative outlet, you just have learn which cards to show and which cards to hide, which cards to play and which cards to fold. Other than that, finding a careful balance between honesty and discretion, writing about your life, sharing your thoughts, ideas, opinions, and interests, is a creative act, and all creative acts are potentially healthy acts, if done in the spirit of honesty and openmindeness and compassion and goodwill.

In other words, blogging, much like life, is what you make of it.