It's not the dog's fault

Often we inadvertently train dogs to act more like humans than dogs. Dogs do not walk right up to each other, looking one another in the eye when they meet. This is considered an act of aggression. When allowed to progress naturally, without human leash intervention, they will approach each other at angles, eyes averted. But what do we do? Puppy is taken from his littermates at 8 weeks of age or less; much too young to have gotten the full advantage of socialization with his brothers and sisters. Then for the rest of his life, we lead puppy straight up to other people and dogs for a greeting.

When does this become a problem? When someone's dog comes charging up to my dog head-on. What happens next? My dog reacts defensively to this perceived act of aggression, but the other owner thinks I have a poorly-behaved, aggressive dog. I do not. I have a rescue dog who has learned to be hesitant to trust other dogs. When we rescued Emmie at 3 years of age, she was emaciated, had been neglected and abused. What little exposure she had to other dogs was probably in the shelters she wound up in, stressed and scared. She had never been walked on a leash. She had to be taught what to do with a ball and a dog toy, most likely because she never had any. Emmie has since been in numerous settings- on and off leash; with behaviorists, in kennels, classes and playdates. She has been socialized and she has been trained. She is not an aggressive dog, and never once have I been told that she is. But even with her regular playmates, she becomes defensive when she perceives herself to be at the disadvantage; when they are off leash and she is on. Even more so when she is being told to stay. To her, that is equivalent to being cornered with no way out.

I shouldn't even have to write about the experience I had at the park today. There were multiple signs at the entrance and throughout the park reminding dog owners that their dogs must be leashed. But a girl jogs past me, leash coiled up in her hand and her Chocolate Lab running loose about 5 feet ahead of her. The Lab starts heading straight at my dogs. Then they react (my dogs' reactions are almost always completely synchronized because they take cues from each other in that doggie way that appears almost psychic): barking, fur up, stiff posture. I am frozen at the side of the path, putting them in a sit/stay even though this only adds to Emmie's feeling of disadvantage, but I am unsure what the Lab will do so I want to have my dogs under control. This girl makes no attempt to call her dog closer to her. But fortunately, the Lab is wise enough to change directions away from my dogs and continue past.

She is probably thinking in her head that my dogs are aggressive and shouldn't be out in public. Maybe you are thinking that too. But if she had followed the law clearly posted, the incident would never have happened. I have walked past an untold number of leashed dogs in the years I've had Emmie without a single problem. The only problem we have ever had is being approached by an unleashed dog. Yes, the off-leash dogs all had a friendly manner, but it's akin to someone smiling and getting right into your face at the same time. You don't know what to make of it.

Coincidentally, today I ran across this story of Brandie, a 10 year old Siberian in Broward County, Fla. This dog was involved in a similar scenario, where a dog ran loose from its front door and lunged at Brandie, who reacted in defense and bit the small dog. The bite was ultimately fatal, so Brandie has been take from her owners and is scheduled to be euthanized. Brandie's owners state that this because the ordinance “automatically assumes that Brandie was unprovoked because of the death of the dog. It does not take into consideration that the other dog may have been the aggressor. It does not take into consideration that we were responsible pet owners having leashed our dog, while the other owners allowed their dog to run around unattended. Our Brandie had been PROVOKED by the other dog running straight at her and lunging at her. Brandie has lived in our home for 7.5 years: with two cats, another smaller dog and a baby. She plays well with other neighborhood dogs and loves all children big and small.” But now Brandie will pay for the other owners' irresponsibility with her life. http://www.thepetitionsite.com/5/help-save-dog-from-unjust-ordinance

Let's replay today's scenario in the park with a responsible dog owner. A girl and her dog are approaching. Her dog is on a leash AND under control. If her dog looks directly at my dogs, she corrects with a “Leave it,” as do I. The dogs walk past each other without incident, heading in the same direction as the owner, not charging this way and that. The dogs look at each other sideways as they pass. Nobody has acted rudely or aggressively. Nobody gets defensive. Maybe this dog owner is looking for a socialization opportunity. The owner asks first, at a good distance. If we agree, we allow the dogs to approach each other.

I'm sure many pedestrians would agree with my best-case scenario of a dog BOTH leashed and under control. A dog lunging at the extent of its leash is NOT under control. I'm not sure if the owners of such a dog just expect that both humans and animals would welcome aggressive approaches by their dog. But this behavior would be totally unacceptable coming from another human. Why should it be acceptable coming from a dog? Perhaps the passerby has a strong aversion to dogs, as my mother does, and does not want to be approached or sniffed. Just days ago I heard a radio DJ complaining that at a recent outdoor festival, he was quite upset by the number of dogs that stuck their noses into his child's stroller.

Ironically, those off-leash owners probably pride themselves on having their dog under control. And I might agree if the dog stays within a foot of the owner, paying attention to its master and keeping in step (known as “heeling”). I do not consider the dog we met at in the park today to have been under control because he was too far from his owner and changed direction without instruction from her. I always have my dogs in a very tight heel at my side when passing others in close quarters, and only allow them to approach a human or animal if the other party requests it. This is a matter of safety and common courtesy.

It is not that I question whether my dogs are safe. I walked them in the St. Patrick's Day parade, and they were petted by hundreds of strangers, tails wagging all the while. They maintained their composure when assaulted by an inebriated reveler, who put his hand over their muzzles and shook. This is an extremely aggressive act to a dog, especially by a stranger. But this man probably knew some dog who had been conditioned to accept this kind of handling, and assumed he could act thusly toward any dog. This is a common mistake. We tend to attribute human characteristics to our dogs because they are our family members. We forget that they are, in fact, still animals who cannot tell us whether our interpretation of their behavior is correct or simply anthropomorphizing.

People need to understand that dog behavior is different from human behavior, regardless of how their individual dog may have learned to act under their care. Out of safety and courtesy, dog owners have a responsibility to have their dog leashed AND controlled in public places. Too often, dogs pay the price for the ignorant and careless behavior of those around them.

The impossibility of "Imagine no possessions" within our society

Recently I began riding my bicycle to work. Remembering being the one behind the wheel, I began by riding on the sidewalk, keeping out of the way so the cars didn't have to be inconvenienced by me. Then I realized, "Hey, I'm one person on this bike, and that is one person in that car. There is no more value to that person than me for being surrounded by a greater mass of metal, glass and plastic". But this concept is completely ingrained in us- the more stuff you have, the more you're worth. Then I thought maybe that's why we gather all these items to ourselves. The bigger our accumulation is, the bigger we feel we are in terms of impact and import. We want to stand out, be noticed. We want to drive a big vehicle so people get out of our way. We need to feel we are set above and apart from the masses.

Back when we lived in smaller scale communities like tribes, when communities numbered in the hundreds and not in the millions, we could be recognized for our talents and deeds. Everyone knew everyone else personally. The status symbols were feathers in a head-dress. We still send universally-understood signals of our status. But now our possessions signify our status. What do I mean by signals? Here are some assumptions made about the owners of an SUV and a McMansion: they must have some minimum level of intelligence or cunning since they must earn a pretty decent paycheck. Similarly, assumptions are made about the person riding the bike. They might be quite poor; homeless even. Maybe they've gotten too many DWIs and lost their license. Now if you want, you can buy expensive specialty gear to identify yourself as a "cyclist" versus a lowly bike rider. Assumptions you might make about a "cyclist" include that the person has some minimum level of athletic ability and motivation. And most likely they belong to a higher socioeconomic status because those people tend to do something like cycle during their leisure time as opposed to, say, selling crack on the streets. Please understand that I am not trying to validate these assumptions; only point them out.

My car is another example. To save money, and because I am trying to reduce the number of miles I drive for environmental reasons, I decided not to lease another new car. Having to drive a 16 year old Pontiac Sunbird is its own deterrent. I am not saying that anyone is wrong for making these assumptions. It is an excellent deduction that no one would voluntarily choose to drive a rusted-out car. Safety, reliability and comfort are qualities woefully lacking in such a vehicle. We do own one safe late model car for those reasons.

The point I am making is this: we have become a consumerist society because we have this fundamental human need for recognition and validation by others. We tend to identify with a group or type, and align our outward cues accordingly: dress, possessions. This is universally understood whether were are conscious of it or not. What signals am I sending here? In my concert T-shirts and sweats, I will probably never be mistaken for a "cyclist." And I will never be mistaken for a college graduate with a good job while driving my car. I know I am sending signals that cause people people to underrate my intelligence, ambition and ability to succeed. This bothers me to some degree, so I frequently find myself talking to those around me about the car and my bike riding to call attention to the disparity. I can take comfort from the fact that the people who know me have me categorized somewhat correctly. Since my "rides" and manner of dress are a matter of choice, not necessity, my self-esteem can remain intact. And I know that the times I've been stranded and locked out by rusty locks would have been dealt with with a lot less equanimity and good humor if I had no other choice but to drive a car like this.

I am not suggesting that I am an exception. I make my own assumptions about "yuppies," which is why I choose not to be identified with them. I think of them as materialistic and lacking depth. Over and over again, I have been surprised by how different someone is than I assumed once I get to know him or her. But that has not yet stopped me from making these assumptions.

The second reason that our societal structure contributes to excessive resource consumption is that we do not receive the support we need from our society. Once, the community cared for children and elders. Now most of us work at things which have little or nothing to do with food acquisition, shelter constuction or dependent care, all so that we have enough money for food, shelter and dependent care. AND we have to drive far from our homes to do it. When times get tough, our support comes from impersonal social programs rather than from our neighbors.

So in summary, the major problem is the difference in environmental and societal impact between a feather and an SUV. Between a tribal hunter and a VP of marketing. We are not more inherently flawed and destined to ruin the earth than a tribal culture. Humans of all sorts have the same needs. The problem is the system we happen to live in. This is also not necessarily anyone's fault. Those involved in the agricultural and industrial revolution did not set out to ruin the earth. It is called progress for a reason, and I for one could not imagine living without the comforts and medical advances we enjoy. And like Quinn, I am not suggesting that we go back to living in caves. I am just pointing out that we need to at least recognize this as a problem and find ways to solve it within the context of our "modern" civilization.

I could end this by saying that I will no longer measure my worth by the things I've accumulated. But it's too late for that now. I have already gotten to the top of the mountain. Achieved the house and 2 cars and 2 kids and 2 dogs. I struggled for 9 years with the feelings of inferiority from not having a house. Even if I were inclined to give it all up now, that may affect the way I am perceived by others, but it will not affect the way I perceive my self for having attained those goals. It is very true that the bigger our accumulation is, the bigger our impact. But the impact is leaving a crater-sized footprint on the earth

I would like to credit Daniel Quinn and Bill McKibben for many of the ideas here.
Books by Daniel Quinn: Ishmael, The Story of B, My Ishmael, Beyond Civilization
By Bill McKibben: Global Warming Can't Buy Happiness Published on Wednesday, March 21, 2007 by The Los Angeles Times
http://www.commondreams.org/views07/0321-22.htm

Taking Down the Christmas Tree

I know that possessions shouldn’t matter, but I remember feeling homeless. This feeling was most pronounced on our first Christmas together as a family. We had just moved into a new apartment, and the house I grew up in had just been sold. I had shelter, a dwelling; but did not have a place that felt like home yet. Many songs celebrate the feeling of wanting to be home for Christmas and if you cherish the season, having no home at that time is especially hard.

Fifteen years later, I feel at home partly because I am surrounded by representations of where I originated, and by items that we have acquired together since. I have furniture and decorations that I can still visualize standing in my grandparents’ house. My grandfather’s engineering textbooks and drafting tools represent his journey from Italian immigrant to successful American citizen. I have the pictures my cousin, the photographer, took of the way the kitchen and dining room looked just before their home was dismantled following their deaths. From my husband's grandparents’ house, we have items that can be seen in the background of snapshots of family celebrations, standing on the shelves. Sometimes when I clean our first major purchases: a picture, a microwave, a coffee table, I remember the care that we took deciding if we could afford them. The picture was $135, and it seemed like a fortune to spend on an item that was not a necessity. I water the plant that was given to my mother by my grandmother when I was born. The TV we watch sits on the same cabinet that contained the TV I watched growing up; that I remember my parents picking out at the cavernous furniture store that was like kid heaven. There are things I purchased in an attempt to make ugly little apartments into beautiful places (all from discount stores, of course). Portraits of the kids on the walls. Photo albums full of birthdays, trips, family gatherings and funny moments.

For better or for worse, my home is a representation of me. I am a product of my past, much like all of these things from others have been assimilated into one home. I cannot imagine being homeless once again, or having it all destroyed by a fire. Neither can I imagine being surrounded by generic store-bought furnishings with no history. Sure, such furnishings might be prettier, less worn or coordinate better, but they are meaningless. I delayed too long getting rid of a couch that was downright dangerous with its springs poking out, because I remembered sitting on that couch at my grandmother’s house with my husband in the first year of our marriage. As we sat back into it, we wondered together if we would ever be able to afford something this nice. Imagine my surprise and delight when she offered us that couch a few months later! These tangible remains of history may be shabby or have little monetary value, but to me they are priceless.

I never gave much thought to the term “homemaker” before, but I recognize now that the important contribution I have to give my kids is the stability, the roots and the starting point of a home. We provide them with raw materials such as love and empathy; and moral values such as hard work. We give them what we are, which in turn comes from our families of origin, good and bad. We can choose the good, and allow the best of our families to flow through us into the kids. The things I am surrounded by remind me of all this. I know the things themselves don’t really matter; that what matters is what lives on in me and ultimately my kids. But memory fades, even when you don't want it to. Holding a solid object in your hands can bring it back like it happened yesterday

This powerful remembrance happened while I was taking down the Christmas tree, upon which so much of our history as a family is represented. Some ornaments were “donated” from various family members in those first lean years when we had very little, both materially and in terms of experience, and could not have made it without their support. These ornaments illustrate how we struggled, yet created a home out of next to nothing. No matter how tarnished they may be, these ornaments will always remain a part of our tree. There are ornaments that mark special events, from the kids’ first Christmases to the first year in the house. There are ornaments we’ve gathered over the years that represent things we’ve enjoyed together: Ren and Stimpy, Harry Potter. Ornaments signifying jokes we’ve shared, like the Elvis cow. Ornaments made by the kids in school. All the ornaments given to me by my own mother, whose love of Christmas is the reason why that time is so special to me.

The very practice of collecting ornaments to commemorate special events comes from my mother. As a kid, it seemed almost silly that she would get Christmas tree ornaments on family trips. It was summer! Nowhere near Christmas! When you are young, you are too busy living in the moment to concern yourself with remembering, or to take note of the passage of time. You fearlessly draw heavy marker X-es through the days on a calendar. But as an adult I am too alarmed by the rapidity with which time flees to do this. And now, as I carefully pack away these memories for another year, I understand the importance of marking these moments. I am glad that my mother showed me how to remember.

Personal Responsibility

Judge not lest ye be judged. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. If one wanted to live up to what seems to be expected of us based on what’s written in the Bible, I feel like we'd have the obligation to maintain the attitude that every human life has equivalent value. So where does personal responsibility come in? This is not mine to know, I’m told, but I can’t leave it at that so I am asking anyway. Society has to have rules and a method for judging those who break them. I can’t ignore it or leave it to someone else. I’m supposed to be using my ethics for the greater good (such as voting my conscience). Otherwise what is the point of determining what your ethics are at all?

People vary greatly in how much they exhibit characteristics society considers “good” and “bad.” My kids are a great example. My daughter is naturally very empathetic (like me). She is very influenced by the emotions of those around her; particularly sad feelings. She is just very caring, and is always playing the role of peacemaker and shoulder-to-cry-on with her friends. And she seems to have an inherent sense of right and wrong. She used to watch a cartoon show where one of the characters was always being mean to the others; calling them “stupid.” Unlike another mother I knew at the time, I did not have to ban watching the show or disallow the use of this word. My daughter just knew that the character was acting badly, and she used to ask why the character was mean. Unlike this other mother’s daughter, my daughter did not see this behavior as something to imitate. She never role-played in a way that was violent. She was always polite considerate without needing to be told.

My son is the total opposite. During role-play, I constantly had to tell him it wasn’t nice for him to make his toys hit, alienate, or demean each other. I even had to put his toys in time out for not being nice to each other. I had to explain empathy by stating that this is how others feel when X is done to them, just like he would feel if X was done to him. He does not like feeling that way, so he should not make others feel that way. I provided names for the feelings he was feeling. I pointed out how his actions made me feel, both good and bad. I constantly reminded him to use his words when he wants attention or cuddling, instead of jumping on people or tackling them. The “Bad Guy” from his police Lego toys robs banks only; no personal crimes. There are no army toys, no toy guns, no video games with shooting, no watching violent television because I see his fascination on the few times he does see those things. As I said before, I did not have to outlaw those things with my daughter. So yes, for some it is true that being surrounded by violent media would not cause them to be violent, most likely because they possess a strong feeling of empathy. But for those who naturally have less empathy, desensitization is not going to help. I know that I am not going to be able to control this forever, but this is such a critical time. Whatever children are exposed to at this age, no matter how bad or wrong, gets included in their perception of “normal.” This is why victims of abuse tend to be abusers when they grow up. Aberrant behavior patterns are normal and familiar to them. I had to explain that to my son that the boats in the tub should not “kill” the shark, because the shark is just minding his own business and will leave people alone if they leave him alone. It seems that all this may be working, because eventually the boats helped keep everyone away from the shark’s area so that everyone could coexist peacefully. He is very concerned now about whether I am happy or angry with him.

My children’s environments and parenting do not differ to any significant degree, so the best explanation is that the variety of characteristics in my kids is due to genetic makeup.

In addition, environment plays a role. Humans are capable of committing wonderful acts or atrocities in groups. We look to those around us to discern what appropriate behavior is. And our situation or environment sometimes leaves us no choice but to act in a way we would otherwise not. Some live in a culture where “good” behavior is not encouraged, but is in fact a liability, like a gang or even a foreign, war-like culture. In Germany in the ‘40s- how many of those soldiers would have done what they did without being surrounded by the culture that convinced them it was right and proper, and moreover everyone else is doing it? From middle class girls in cliques who are viciously mean to others to elevate themselves, to those who are those who are driven by desperation to crime because they are starving- both have needs that they must fulfill, from the need for belonging to the need for food. People will do just about anything if those around them are doing it. Is there a monster lurking within every one of us?

Finally, there is an organic component about all this. Brain injury or Alzheimer’s patients can undergo a complete personality change, coupled with a loss of impulse control. Some become the most vicious, unpleasant people. Some are the sweetest, most wonderful people. Disruptions during development, like insults in the womb (both accidental and intentional) and toxin exposure can all affect the brain. Some of these mechanisms have been proposed as explanations for the increase in autism rates. Then there are sociopaths or narcissists. People who not only are literally incapable of empathy but have powerful impulses to do harm.

So who deserves more credit? Or more punishment? Those who are “naturally” good, such as my daughter and I? I feel the most extreme sense of self-loathing if I cause distress in others. Should I be praised for wanting not to hurt anyone? I can’t even kill a spider. Should I be praised for not committing murder? That doesn’t seem right. What about those who never got emotional “training” like I’m trying to do with my son, but picked up on the rules of society on their own? Or for whatever reason have a deeply held sense of right and wrong? How about those who have to go counter to their own impulses to be good? What about those who are not acting out of lofty morality, but simply behave as they do to fit in? Not all abuse victims become abusers themselves. What makes the difference? With all these differences, how can we compare people, apples-to-apples, and come up with a fair system of judgment? To what degree can we hold them accountable for their level of personal responsibility? And what leeway should be granted for circumstances beyond their control?

And if all this life is, is a test to see if we deserve some form of eternal life, how can we know how we’re doing when everything’s so uneven and unfair?

And with all the evidence of atrocity out there, the only way to maintain that optimistic sense that all human lives have value is to stay away from the news, and people in general for that matter. I don’t want to become jaded.

One Thing

In the movie “City Slickers,” Billy Crystal’s character asks Jack Palance’s character Curly, the old wizened cowboy, what the meaning of life is. Curly holds up his index finger.
“Your finger?”
“One thing,” Curly replies.
“Well, what is it?”
“That’s what you have to figure out.”

When my grandfather died, the room was filled with his wife and seven children. I say “filled” because it was not just their bodily presences, but also their love and memories that filled the room. My grandfather’s favorite Frank Sinatra CDs were playing. I got such a sense of that love, more so than the sadness, as he quietly slipped away. That was nearly 10 years ago. In that room, I discovered what my one thing is.

Today I attended another funeral. A lady who had a long and beautiful life, and died at 95. At this funeral was gathered the physical representation of that same one thing: her large family. They were laughing and crying at the same time. They shared memories of her love, graciousness, concern, cooking, and generosity. Two of her sons are jazz musicians. The second tangible manifestation of that one thing was hearing two of the songs her sons had created for her; inspired by her. To see love, to hear it. It was incredible.

Sometimes our vision of things gets distorted. Day to day, we get embroiled in the minutiae and fail to see the big picture or the long term. Sometimes, if we’re not careful, this can cost us what matters most. But some people are more clear-sighted. They are able to consistently see what is most important to them. They are able to ignore the distractions. This lovely lady never lost track of her one thing. I hope I will be as smart.

On Love

Let’s say you’re madly in love with someone, and suddenly one day this someone says that he or she does not love you anymore. You moan, cry, scream, rant and rave. That’s not the worst part. The worst part is the realization that your love does not go away. Here you are, left with these useless feelings and nothing to do with them. The best analogy I came up with for something that only works when shared is those friendship necklaces girls give each other. They usually have something like “Best Friends” imprinted on a circle, which is then cut into jagged halves. Each “best friend” wears half. The halves would fit back together perfectly if the friends were to stand nearby each other. But imagine that these are beautiful, rare pieces of jewelry, designed by the world’s most famous jewelry designer. They are museum-quality; encrusted with precious gems.

When the day comes that your special someone decides that he or she wants nothing more to do with you, what do you do with your half of the necklace? It’s all yours once again, but this is awkward and difficult because it’s meant to be shared. Out of anger, you could try to destroy and ruin this rare, valuable, special thing. Then, something beautiful and precious would be lost to you and the world. Worse still, it can never be disposed of. No matter how hard you try to prevent it, this twisted, ruined, corrupted thing keeps turning up, usually at the most inopportune moments.

Another option would be to keep it and obsess over it, filling your days with nothing but staring at it. You grow isolated and alone as others tire of your fascination with it. You may even lose all dignity trying to reunite the halves of the necklace. But this is a pointless and counterproductive exercise, and all you end up with is a lost self and a restraining order.

The third option is to keep it somewhere safe, yet work hard at preventing it from being the focus of your every thought and action. Over time (and this usually takes A LOT of time), it becomes less and less in the forefront of your mind. It finds its way into some box under your bed, covered in dust. Then one day someone else comes along, and lo and behold! He or she has the other half of another pair of necklaces. You get yours out and dust it off. The time has come to share it with someone else, and its beauty has been preserved for that person. It’s very hard at first because you are constantly reminded of the one you shared it with before. But as you spend time with your new someone, who in your mind is wonderful and perfect and superior to the old someone in every way, you forget the old someone a little. Then more and more, until most days, then months, then years pass without you thinking of the old someone even once. Your necklace comes to represent all the good things between you and your new someone- all the memories and laughs. Your necklace is not worse off for being old and having been through so much. On the contrary, it is even more rare and valuable, like a grandmother’s antique wedding ring worn by a new bride.

Now, if for some reason you are reminded of the old someone, you can choose to look back and see only the good things because there isn’t a broken, twisted necklace lying in wait somewhere, turning up again and again like a bad penny and ruining your day with its ugliness. Only representative of hurt and pain.

This is healing. Healing doesn’t mean forgetting, or burying, or getting rid of, or twisting the meaning of it in anger. Healing means transforming it into something you can live with, learn from, build on, and maybe be better for the next time around. Your love is a good and beautiful part of YOU that you give to someone else. Someone else can accept or reject it, but if they reject it, don’t give them the power to destroy that beautiful part of you. You cannot hurt that person anymore. You can only hurt yourself.

I’d imagine that someone at the end of their life would have collected a lot of half-pairs of necklaces. They would vary in value and degree of intricacy. Those who hold the other halves of the necklaces would not have them if this person had not existed. This person leaves in his or her wake a legacy of bits and pieces of valuable things. Some people naturally recognize the value, and recognize that they are better off for having it. Some do not, and throw them away or pawn them yet wind up with a poorer soul. Whether or not there is a heaven, perhaps we cannot know. But at least we can be certain that the bits of ourselves that we leave behind with others remain. In this way, we do have control over our “afterlife.” We are in complete control of how many necklaces we leave.

Life Philosophy

I’ve come to the realization that what I am in pursuit of is not so much a religion as a life philosophy. Pursuit is too mild. It is an obsession. This philosophy is a collection of ideas, some mine, some from others, that I think is the closest approximation to THE TRUTH. This is a radical departure for me, because until now I was looking for the answer between Catholic vs. Protestant vs. Lutheran vs. Episcopalian. Or even Catholic vs. Buddhism vs. atheism.

Can you be ok without being enfolded in the protective arms of organized religion? It is tough, terrifying for a former Catholic to accept that there are no hard and fast rules to be obeyed or you will go to hell. Having that pummeled into your head by parents, priests and scary nuns from before the time you could talk is a little tough to get over. But I think I need to stop dragging my feet and jump off that cliff now.

This life philosophy is not a bunch of things I believe. At least by the Catholic definition, belief requires “taking things on faith.” As in, you have no evidence, or evidence may even exist to the contrary, but somehow you just go ahead and believe it anyway. I’m beginning to think I’m incapable of belief by that definition.

So what is this life philosophy? It is a collection of ideas that ring absolutely true across all aspects of me. They line up with my makeup. Some of these ideas I have thought of myself, and some are others' ideas that I have encountered. Sometimes these ideas are not necessarily the ones I want. I would feel more comfortable if I could just be a good little Catholic. But that is tantamount to living a lie.

In addition, there are things that I can accept. These things may not really feel as true, but by virtue of their association to the truths, or by process of reasoning, they have to be. And some I simply want to be true. We all know the difference between an idea we can immediately accept, and an idea that someone had to talk us into. We can't find arguments to the contrary so we accept it for now, but in the back of our minds we always retain that little seed of doubt.

Here is what Feels True:

•Freewill: We are not controlled by fate, stars, God, or anything else. If we want something, we have to do the work for it. We are influenced by formative experiences, genetic makeup and our surroundings. The actions of other humans, and natural processes also have an impact. But this collection of circumstances exists for each person by chance, not because it's what we deserve. God, if he exists, limits his intervention to working through people who are open to His direction.
•There’s no one right way to live: Diversity works, and should not be feared (see Ishmael by Daniel Quinn). Open-mindedness is good. Prejudice is bad.
•Scientific Investigation: This cannot be in contradiction to God. If God exists, He set things into motion and made the rules. We can infer things about Him by studying the world (see The Story of B by Daniel Quinn). Data is never wrong. But our inferences and interpretations may be wrong.
•Altruism: The best way to be is altruistic. Nothing is going to get better unless people make it happen. Nobody or no thing is going to do it for us. Also, it is the responsibility of those who have attained higher level of human potential, or who have more resources, to help those with less. Also, by extension, taking from others is wrong. Using and abusing others is wrong.
•Middle Ground: Generally, the extremes aren’t the way to go. The truth usually lies somewhere in the middle. Also, people holding on to these extremes make dynamics that don’t work. Compromise works better.
•Our Relation to the Ecosystem: We are not the pinnacle, and we are not entitled to use it as we see fit. This statement is a summation of the belief of our culture which is absolutely false: "The world was made for man, and it is man's place to conquer and rule it." (see Ishmael by Daniel Quinn). It works just fine on its own, as it has for billions of years. We also are not here to take more than our share, or for the pursuit of our own pleasure. This point was driven home to me watching the movie “March of the Penguins.” Those animals live in abject misery with the exception of a few moments.
•Evolution: We didn’t start out perfect in any way and we continue to not be. Some might say that human evolution is working backward, because we have no innate ability to feed or defend ourselves anymore without our tools. But our tools are in the process of bringing about our own destruction.
•Human potential: If every child could be raised in some perfect environment, with the rare exceptions of the truly sociopathic, they’d turn out ok.

What I can accept:

•The existence of God: Seems like a nice, neat way to explain it all. I want to believe, but as I said, I’m starting to doubt that’s possible for me. And the very act of wanting to believe can be self-serving, which makes the whole thing suspect (see "Neverending Mental Wrestling Match). But since there’s no one right way, and we’re all different, we will all naturally have varying levels of the ability to “take things on faith.” So this must be ok.
•Afterlife: I just have to hope that there is point where all the wrongs are made right; some final justice. And that it doesn’t just end with death.


Now this doesn’t mean I live my life in perfect accordance with this philosophy, any more than a religious person is perfectly faithful to every single tenet. But I feel very uncomfortable with the incongruities. I should do more to share what I have with others. I could do more to be more mindful of the environment. Now, I don’t think everyone should leave the towns and go live in the caves any more than Quinn does, because we are too numerous to survive as hunter-gatherers. But we need to recognize where we’re going wrong and work to repair it. Live more closely like the way things are supposed to work. This is a process, and not all that we have achieved is bad. Music, art… Civilization was a step along the way, but it needs to be replaced with something that works better (see Beyond Civilization by Daniel Quinn).

I’m still hung up on right and wrong. I think killing is wrong, even though the natural world is not entirely populated by herbivores. And there are some inconsistencies. Sometimes my "truths" indicate that we should take our cues from the natural world, but sometimes we should be held to a higher standard. And if there’s no one right way, is there one Truth?

I had been hung up on “There’s no one right way to live.” I had been thinking that I must accept the converse: that there’s no wrong way to live. But something being true does not necessitate the veracity of the converse. The Mad Hatter wisely pointed out that the converse of a statement is "Not the same thing a bit! Why, you might just as well say that 'I see what I eat' is the same thing as 'I eat what I see'!" Of course there must be wrong ways to live. This is evidenced by every single species that ever went extinct.

And I felt that the middle ground thing is true, however I was confused because I happen to be on the extreme end of the environmental philosophy. Then suddenly I realized that I was only thinking in terms of THIS culture. If you create a scale that includes Native American or Aboriginal cultures, I am not on the extreme end at all.

I think that people who live life with an awareness of the divine seem to be more happy and content. Going to church helps get me there, not because of the rote repetition of doctrine, but because it helps one step into that mindset. You have to train your brain. No wandering off. And the fact that the people all around you are doing the same thing really helps too. So once you get good at it, you could go out into a forest or a mountaintop, or even see a tank full of baby mollies and feel connected to, at one with the divine. Tibetan monks, yogis, whatever the method is, it seems like a good thing to try to connect with a higher plane.

The God-works through-people-only thing still engenders a lot of questions. Again, if you’re all-powerful, why not fix everything? Maybe He's like the mother who gets tired of trying to fix everything for her 35 year old loser son living in her basement. But why not just send some absolute, unmistakable, irrefutable sign? Like writing it on the side of a mountain? And again, what about those who grew up never having any exposure to Christianity?

Obviously, one barrier to developing a life philosophy is the fact that anyone’s life experience is limited. How can you have an all-encompassing life philosophy if you haven’t experienced the whole of everything? Take me for example. My life has had its difficulties, but nothing I’d characterize as traumatic. I have been relatively sheltered, not at all what you’d call worldly, and have not traveled far from my hometown. So one strategy I use is to read. Another is to talk to people. This is fascinating to me. Having conversations with people who are very different from me. What will happen at the intersection of the optimistic Pollyanna and the jaded soldier? Or of the still relatively Christian ex-Catholic and the Wiccan? The trick is for these conversations to occur between open-minded people.

I have been unable to tackle the issue of Jesus as God's som. However, even if I ultimately could not accept that, I could still accept that He had some really wise things to say. So did Confucius and Buddha. So living in accordance with what they had to say, because I agree with what they had to say, is perfectly ducky without having to accept their divinity. Is this a cop-out? Maybe, but sometimes you just have to fake it 'til you make it.