"If you want to be someone else, you had better change your mind."
I wish I knew who to credit with that quote. Change is life. When there is no change, it is time to say goodbye to the tribe and walk off into the desert.
I recently read Heart of the Mind, one of the standard works of NLP. Interesting stuff.
Then I tried one of the ideas in the book, rather than just reading all about it. I asked myself, "Where is my past?" It was large, and greyscale, and parked to my left, a bit high, very close. Fine. "Where is my future?" Small and colorful and off to the right and way too far away. So after asking permissions from "The Committee", I moved things around.
The past? Shrink a bit. Now go lower, a bit to the left, and back off a bit. I still want to keep tabs on you, but I don't want to trip over you (or hit my head on you).
The future? Move in close....closer....there - about three feet away, eye level, to the right. Grow larger, and lets move to a hippie era color scheme. Be where I can touch you if I want, and brush gently around your edges if, for some reason, you stop but I am still moving forward.
So far, when I keep this picture intact, my attitudes change. My actions change. My choices change. It will be interesting to see if I can keep this relationship with past and future, and if the changes continue and develop.
Showing posts with label Brain Candy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brain Candy. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Evaluating the Nermal
Why are there no Normals in the O.T.O.?
I had a 'Stop And Think' moment last week regarding the O.T.O.. It was actually a combination of several moments that built on each other. I keep running into problems getting Horus Oasis to 'work' that trace back to people who - in various ways and for various reasons - just don't have all of their marbles in one bag. Instead of focusing on the events, or on their consequences, I did some thinking about the people involved. I concluded that there are no "Normals" in Horus Oasis.
Start with all of the members of Horus, standing for inspection, as in a police lineup. Even keep the ones who rarely show up and never contribute. Identify those who have persistent non-normal neurology and ask them to leave. The lineup is now much smaller. Now mark those who have a fair claim to normal neurology, but are prone to episodes of histrionics - who blow up just often enough that you never feel good trusting them with an assignment. The crowd shrinks again. Finally, of the few remaining, identify the ones who are in temporary non-normal space because this thing called "life" is busy working them over with a rubber hose. What you have left right at this point is a small group of normals who, each and every one, belong to the crowd that never contributes. They don't want to contribute, or they are too busy, or the are just lazy, or whatever.
And standing in the middle of this thing, assigned the task of making this work, is me. So far it is working, because the non-normals and the rubber hose people put in what effort they can.
When I first looked at this, I was wondering why the O.T.O. seems to attract such a crew of freaks. Where are the normals? Why aren't they playing with us? Then I had to stop and check my premises. I am assuming the following points, and I should be asking if these points are valid....
If you want to give the word Normal an accurate definition, you would have to admit that what is truly normal is to be totally fucked up - and to be fucked up in a manner that is unlike the up-fuckedness of any other person.
But there is such a thing as Nermal. I stole this word from an old Garfield comic. "Nermal" is the name given to "The World's Cutest Kitten", who made sporadic appearances in the strip, mainly to annoy Garfield and conspire with Odie. In my private vocabulary I use this word to refer to a person who, while living in the world or so-called Normals, is perfectly aware of his or her deviations from the Norm. If not privately treasuring and nurturing these differences, the Nermal at least recognizes them, respects them, and makes allowances for them in the living of every day life.
That takes care of the first two assumptions. The third then falls apart. To be attracted to the O.T.O., a person must usually be either Nermal, or on the brink of becoming Nermal. This states the heart of the issue, and why it isn't the issue I think it is.
I think.
Maybe.
What is the role of the O.T.O. in the lives of its initiates? (I was going to use the word 'members' instead of 'initiates'. But I change my mind. Initiate = begin. We have many initiations. We are always beginning. Fodder for a whole new rant.)
I will propose the following...
I had a 'Stop And Think' moment last week regarding the O.T.O.. It was actually a combination of several moments that built on each other. I keep running into problems getting Horus Oasis to 'work' that trace back to people who - in various ways and for various reasons - just don't have all of their marbles in one bag. Instead of focusing on the events, or on their consequences, I did some thinking about the people involved. I concluded that there are no "Normals" in Horus Oasis.
Start with all of the members of Horus, standing for inspection, as in a police lineup. Even keep the ones who rarely show up and never contribute. Identify those who have persistent non-normal neurology and ask them to leave. The lineup is now much smaller. Now mark those who have a fair claim to normal neurology, but are prone to episodes of histrionics - who blow up just often enough that you never feel good trusting them with an assignment. The crowd shrinks again. Finally, of the few remaining, identify the ones who are in temporary non-normal space because this thing called "life" is busy working them over with a rubber hose. What you have left right at this point is a small group of normals who, each and every one, belong to the crowd that never contributes. They don't want to contribute, or they are too busy, or the are just lazy, or whatever.
And standing in the middle of this thing, assigned the task of making this work, is me. So far it is working, because the non-normals and the rubber hose people put in what effort they can.
When I first looked at this, I was wondering why the O.T.O. seems to attract such a crew of freaks. Where are the normals? Why aren't they playing with us? Then I had to stop and check my premises. I am assuming the following points, and I should be asking if these points are valid....
- There is such a thing as a "Normal" and...
- Normals make up the majority of the population.
- The O.T.O. should attract normals just as any other organization should.
If you want to give the word Normal an accurate definition, you would have to admit that what is truly normal is to be totally fucked up - and to be fucked up in a manner that is unlike the up-fuckedness of any other person.
But there is such a thing as Nermal. I stole this word from an old Garfield comic. "Nermal" is the name given to "The World's Cutest Kitten", who made sporadic appearances in the strip, mainly to annoy Garfield and conspire with Odie. In my private vocabulary I use this word to refer to a person who, while living in the world or so-called Normals, is perfectly aware of his or her deviations from the Norm. If not privately treasuring and nurturing these differences, the Nermal at least recognizes them, respects them, and makes allowances for them in the living of every day life.
That takes care of the first two assumptions. The third then falls apart. To be attracted to the O.T.O., a person must usually be either Nermal, or on the brink of becoming Nermal. This states the heart of the issue, and why it isn't the issue I think it is.
I think.
Maybe.
What is the role of the O.T.O. in the lives of its initiates? (I was going to use the word 'members' instead of 'initiates'. But I change my mind. Initiate = begin. We have many initiations. We are always beginning. Fodder for a whole new rant.)
I will propose the following...
- For those few souls attracted to the O.T.O. who haven't already done this on their own, they make you realize that you a not a Normal, but a Nermal.
- To help you reconcile your current Nermalcy to your desired Nermalcy. This can be phrased as "Finding out what the heck your Will really is."
- To aid in coming to your true Nermalcy.
- Finally, making your true Nermalcy interface constructively with external reality.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Getting things done
IDEAS
I'm a task list junkie. Like any good Capricorn, I build TO DO lists that are long, complex, ordered, dated, subdivided, etc. Once they are made, I brood over them, I care for them and feed them, I review and revise and play and prune and fertilize and rearrange. But god forbid that I actually DO anything on any of the lists. No - we can't have any of THAT (says the Wombat through clenched teeth, the irony leaking like drool from one corner of the mouth). And, to this end, I downloaded a marvelous little program called TaskFreak http://www.taskfreak.com/ . Just what I need - another way to make lists. Another place for them to die and become entombed. But then I ran across a reference in the programmer's notes to GTD - Getting Things Done - a book and philosophy by David Allen. http://www.davidco.com/ I was sort of curious, so I looked into it. But I am also a cynic, so I expected little from it.
I was wrong.
Loath as I am to praise anything on this planet, let alone something that might inhabit the same realm as Steven Covey or Hyrum Smith (of Franklin Planner fame), this turned my head. Within the first chapter I was hooked. I haven't finished the book yet, but I have already put some of it into practice at work (and to a lesser extent at home). It is paying dividends. I will, as is my habit, take the second week of January off work for the annual Existential Angst Tour, but it will not be a road trip. Instead, I am going to turn this horrible mess that is my life (living space, projects, desires, etc.) into one big freaking In Basket and allow Mr. Allen to guide me through the ordeal of processing it.
So there.
(And while I'm at it, I'll have to actually buy the damned book so the man gets the royalty payment he is due - or maybe I'll just send him a check.)
I finally finished the Collected Works of Aleister Crowley. It was an experience like most magick - boring, boring, boring, ugh ...then you find a small gem that you tell yourself made the rest of it worth the effort. There were one or two passages of poetry that were good. The rest was turgid. But what really shone was the one or two essays that made it into the volumes. It was nice to end the ordeal with the Epilogue and Dedication at the end of volume three. Here it is if you want to read it. http://www.geocities.com/nu_isis/eleusis.pdf
Another book recently completed is The Way of the Peaceful Warrior by Dan Millman. http://www.danmillman.com/ I read it because of an idea in the book that a friend relayed to me. But then I never found that idea in the book. (Was I just not paying attention?) The book struck me as cliche, as having big things happen in small spaces (not in a good way), and requiring too much suspension of disbelief. And yet, at the same time, it is pretty good. The cliche may not have been true when the book was written, and this book may be what made it cliche - an odd evidence of success. And the author may not have been able to say what needed saying without the other sins listed above, so I will give him a pass. So, in short, I would recommend the book. There is much to be learned, the chief idea being this - Stop worrying.Why? Because it really doesn't matter. (Or to quote Rex Gardner, "In fifty years, who will care?")
PEOPLE
Playing with people as energy continues - with mixed results. I'm handling Lisa well, but I think she is seeing me as aloof and and angry when I am not. In fact I once had to convince her, with some effort, that I was not angry with her on some trivial point or another. The other side of that was when I was helping to find something that had dropped under the seat of her car. She remarked rather snippishly that she was getting cold from the other car door being open. I closed it then stood in front of the car for a moment, looking at the sunrise (mostly) and reminding myself not to react to her sniping. When I got back in the car she made a point of thanking me for at least trying to help - implying an apology for her behavior.
I cut my hair about a week ago. I was just tired of it. I needed a change. But then a few funny things happened. First, I caught myself in in odd behavior. At least twice I encountered a person and assumed some thought or reaction on their part based on their presumed perception of me as the long-haired hippy. Then I remembered that I had no hair. Oops. I learned that I was engaging in "bad ego" and that my hair was a large part of this. I was - gasp - normal. I am now, much to my horror, normal - nothing special - just another bloke. It is really hurting. This contrasts to what happened when I had to drive a rental car for a week when the Hippy Flower Painted car was in the shop. I was suddenly anonymous - I could drive like an asshole and no one would remember me the next day. Freedom!
Odd contradictions.
THINGS
But then the universe tests my resolve by tossing a few Kat grenades at me. About a month ago, I got a heads up that our debt load had spiraled and that action needed to be taken. A week ago the tally came in at $12,000 - and that was accumulated in less than one year. But to make it worse, Kat now tells me that her car needs $2500 in repairs. I ran the numbers and learned that we are backed into a corner - getting rid of the car and replacing it is dead even the same cost as just swallowing hard and pouring more money into it. Of course this wouldn't be an issue if she had purchased a REAL car (Toyota) instead of a TURD ON WHEELS (Suzuki). So I resolved to dig out of it by the end of 2008. In round terms, 14 months to pay of 14 grand. In order to do this, I get to sell off my stock (there goes the money I was going to use to replace may car), give up my bonuses (again - I gave it up this year too, for the fat lot of good it did), and any chance to chase any of my small dreams this year - again (and again, and again, and again).
I'm a task list junkie. Like any good Capricorn, I build TO DO lists that are long, complex, ordered, dated, subdivided, etc. Once they are made, I brood over them, I care for them and feed them, I review and revise and play and prune and fertilize and rearrange. But god forbid that I actually DO anything on any of the lists. No - we can't have any of THAT (says the Wombat through clenched teeth, the irony leaking like drool from one corner of the mouth). And, to this end, I downloaded a marvelous little program called TaskFreak http://www.taskfreak.com/ . Just what I need - another way to make lists. Another place for them to die and become entombed. But then I ran across a reference in the programmer's notes to GTD - Getting Things Done - a book and philosophy by David Allen. http://www.davidco.com/ I was sort of curious, so I looked into it. But I am also a cynic, so I expected little from it.
I was wrong.
Loath as I am to praise anything on this planet, let alone something that might inhabit the same realm as Steven Covey or Hyrum Smith (of Franklin Planner fame), this turned my head. Within the first chapter I was hooked. I haven't finished the book yet, but I have already put some of it into practice at work (and to a lesser extent at home). It is paying dividends. I will, as is my habit, take the second week of January off work for the annual Existential Angst Tour, but it will not be a road trip. Instead, I am going to turn this horrible mess that is my life (living space, projects, desires, etc.) into one big freaking In Basket and allow Mr. Allen to guide me through the ordeal of processing it.
So there.
(And while I'm at it, I'll have to actually buy the damned book so the man gets the royalty payment he is due - or maybe I'll just send him a check.)
I finally finished the Collected Works of Aleister Crowley. It was an experience like most magick - boring, boring, boring, ugh ...then you find a small gem that you tell yourself made the rest of it worth the effort. There were one or two passages of poetry that were good. The rest was turgid. But what really shone was the one or two essays that made it into the volumes. It was nice to end the ordeal with the Epilogue and Dedication at the end of volume three. Here it is if you want to read it. http://www.geocities.com/nu_isis/eleusis.pdf
Another book recently completed is The Way of the Peaceful Warrior by Dan Millman. http://www.danmillman.com/ I read it because of an idea in the book that a friend relayed to me. But then I never found that idea in the book. (Was I just not paying attention?) The book struck me as cliche, as having big things happen in small spaces (not in a good way), and requiring too much suspension of disbelief. And yet, at the same time, it is pretty good. The cliche may not have been true when the book was written, and this book may be what made it cliche - an odd evidence of success. And the author may not have been able to say what needed saying without the other sins listed above, so I will give him a pass. So, in short, I would recommend the book. There is much to be learned, the chief idea being this - Stop worrying.Why? Because it really doesn't matter. (Or to quote Rex Gardner, "In fifty years, who will care?")
PEOPLE
Playing with people as energy continues - with mixed results. I'm handling Lisa well, but I think she is seeing me as aloof and and angry when I am not. In fact I once had to convince her, with some effort, that I was not angry with her on some trivial point or another. The other side of that was when I was helping to find something that had dropped under the seat of her car. She remarked rather snippishly that she was getting cold from the other car door being open. I closed it then stood in front of the car for a moment, looking at the sunrise (mostly) and reminding myself not to react to her sniping. When I got back in the car she made a point of thanking me for at least trying to help - implying an apology for her behavior.
I cut my hair about a week ago. I was just tired of it. I needed a change. But then a few funny things happened. First, I caught myself in in odd behavior. At least twice I encountered a person and assumed some thought or reaction on their part based on their presumed perception of me as the long-haired hippy. Then I remembered that I had no hair. Oops. I learned that I was engaging in "bad ego" and that my hair was a large part of this. I was - gasp - normal. I am now, much to my horror, normal - nothing special - just another bloke. It is really hurting. This contrasts to what happened when I had to drive a rental car for a week when the Hippy Flower Painted car was in the shop. I was suddenly anonymous - I could drive like an asshole and no one would remember me the next day. Freedom!
Odd contradictions.
THINGS
But then the universe tests my resolve by tossing a few Kat grenades at me. About a month ago, I got a heads up that our debt load had spiraled and that action needed to be taken. A week ago the tally came in at $12,000 - and that was accumulated in less than one year. But to make it worse, Kat now tells me that her car needs $2500 in repairs. I ran the numbers and learned that we are backed into a corner - getting rid of the car and replacing it is dead even the same cost as just swallowing hard and pouring more money into it. Of course this wouldn't be an issue if she had purchased a REAL car (Toyota) instead of a TURD ON WHEELS (Suzuki). So I resolved to dig out of it by the end of 2008. In round terms, 14 months to pay of 14 grand. In order to do this, I get to sell off my stock (there goes the money I was going to use to replace may car), give up my bonuses (again - I gave it up this year too, for the fat lot of good it did), and any chance to chase any of my small dreams this year - again (and again, and again, and again).
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
They are watching me...
The Universe is watching me. I have known this for a long time. Once in a while The Universe sends me a message to let me know I am still on The List.
I was at the Tooele House last night (long story) and had wasted some time trying to figure out how to turn on the sprinkler system. I finally found the control box and concluded the manual override was missing (or just too hard to decode). But the grass is green, so it must be working.
Fast forward to a few hours later. It is dark. I am on the side porch and reach for the light switch to illuminate the driveway. At the precise moment my finger touches the switch, the sprinklers turn on. Have you ever noticed that the sound of air being pushed out of a newly activated sprinkler sounds just like an electrical circuit shorting out?
Message received.
I was at the Tooele House last night (long story) and had wasted some time trying to figure out how to turn on the sprinkler system. I finally found the control box and concluded the manual override was missing (or just too hard to decode). But the grass is green, so it must be working.
Fast forward to a few hours later. It is dark. I am on the side porch and reach for the light switch to illuminate the driveway. At the precise moment my finger touches the switch, the sprinklers turn on. Have you ever noticed that the sound of air being pushed out of a newly activated sprinkler sounds just like an electrical circuit shorting out?
Message received.
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