OK, so I'm generally a really sound sleeper and noises rarely wake me up, but I happen to have already been semi-awake at 2:50am the past three nights (had just gone to bed Friday and Saturday, up to use the loo tonight). For some reason there are bloody birds outside my bedroom window that, for the past three nights, have started chirping and singing up a storm right around this hour. What the hell? Shouldn't these birds be asleep at 3:00am? Why are they quiet--so far as I can tell--for the rest of the night, save for this roughly 20 minute raucous conversation?
And why does it always seem to start at almost the exact same time?! Am starting to feel like I'm in that Sarah Kane play, 4:48 Psychosis. SHUT UP BIRDS!!!
Sunday, 20 January 2008
Into Every Life a Little Rain Must Fall (maybe I don't want your flippin' umbrella!)
I just read an essay in The Chronicle of Higher Education, "Against Happiness: In Praise of Melancholy" (Eric G., Wilson, adapted from his book by the same name). In our current social climate, such a work seems almost heretical. I did a quick search for "happiness" on Amazon; first result? A work entitled Happiness: a guide to developing life's most important skill. (Matthieu Ricard, 2008)
I didn't look through the entire list, but this was followed by scores more books offering to show me how I, too, could learn always to see the world through rose-coloured glasses. And, really, isn't that a worthy--perhaps even necessary--aspiration? Wilson describes the current cultural ethos as one in which"the status quo is nothing short of manic bliss." Life's most important skill, indeed.
At the moment, happiness is a preoccupation of everyone from bio-scientists to philosophers and sociologists, psychologists to mass media and Joe Q public. Worldwide, people are being asked: in the greater scheme of things, just how happy would you say you are? The most recent stats I could find (www.nationmaster.com) had Icelanders at the top of the list, with a full 94% of citizens rating themselves as either "quite" or "very" happy with life taken as a whole. The U.K. clocked in at #9 (87% are happy here); the U.S. at #13 (84%); Canada at #17 (75%). At the very bottom of the 50-nation list? Bulgaria, with a score of -24%; over half the Bulgarians surveyed had claimed to either be"not very" or even "not at all" happy with life in general.
Now, I realise that these stats are influenced by any number of factors which I have neither the expertise nor inclination to discuss (phrasing of both the question and the multiple-choice answers; how these were understood by respondents; when, how, and by whom the question was asked; differing cultural values and norms; etc.) Taking the above poll at face value, though, one might take happiness to be an objective, quantifiable subject.
It's not. Happiness is a subjective state, and what I find interesting is the way it's become the only state that someone (OK, a lot of someones) seems to think we ought to be in. I understand that replacing negative thought patterns with more positive ones is a basic principle of cognitive psychology, and I don't discount the value of this. I'm not anti-happiness (and I certainly don't mean to minimise or glorify serious depression, which I view as separate issue entirely), I just wonder...shouldn't emotions be spontaneous rather than conditioned responses to stimuli?
For example, how am I feeling right now? It's mid-afternoon on a rainy British Sunday (is there any other kind? but I digress), and how I came to be writing this was that I surfed to www.aldaily.com and stumbled upon the essay mentioned at the top of my post. Nothing wrong with that, but right now I should really be tidying up the flat--I've had friends over the past couple of nights and things are in a state of casual disarray; I haven't seen the top of my desk in weeks for piles of paper, books, receipts, post-it notes, lists, etc. To my left is a stack of scripts, which reminds me: I'd planned to finish reading those today and choose which ones to use with my 9/10 Drama class. We're starting that unit on Wednesday and--come to think of it--I need to redo the lesson plans for the next three weeks. There was a, ahem, change of direction, and my scheme of work on devising had to be shelved. As for re-planning the unit, well, with all the packing of my office, schlepping back and forth between the old and new (we're in there as of tomorrow) campuses, who's had time? That's not quite true. I've actually had far too much free time during the work day this month (long story), which I haven't really used nearly as productively as I should've; too much free time has fomented boredom; the aimless flipping through of books, articles, the 'net; starting work on one thing but then abandoning it for something else. In short, I've raised raised procrastination to an art. As for the wasted time, I really do wish I'd used it more productively. On the other hand...
Bloody hell, that train of thought could go on forever! And yes, I've just stopped it (glanced down at the time, I really need to get on with things other than this), but it's already reminded me of the capital-m Mood I was in for much of last week. Oy, and all this work I still need to do...
If the World Institute of Happiness was to ring me this very moment, I'm not sure I'd tell them I was feeling "very happy." But so what? Again, I'm not talking about the separate and serious issue of deep depression, but do I really need to be ecstatically joyful all the time? Can't I sometimes just feel "meh"? Last week I was more than meh, I was "grrrrr," maybe even "GRRRRR!" When I first got back to England after Christmas in Canada, I was a bit sad. Does all this mean I'd best navigate back to Amazon and order Happiness? It is, after all, a guide to "life's most important skill"...
Thing is, I think being Happy! all the time wouldn't really be very happy at all. Wouldn't it get rather dull? If I trained myself not to feel anything but happy, how would I even recognise moments of random joy such as those I experienced last night with friends? Would I fully enjoy the serenity I felt this morning after going for a run on my favourite trail in a warm mist of rain? Is perpetually soaring at the heights of bliss a definitively better option than occasionally dropping into a pocket of despair? If it's my constant state, doesn't "happy" actually mean "neutral"?
In short, I won't be taking Matthieu Ricard et. al up on their offers to--for only £6.74 + SH!--train me in the art (though it should be noted that they usually call their brand of it a science) of Happy. I did, however, order Christopher Lane's Shyness: How Normal Behaviour Became a Sickness. Cosmetic pharmacology and the medicalisation of basic personality traits? Don't get me started...
NOTE: Just as I was about to hit "publish post," my computer spontaneously shut down and refused to restart (as it is wont to do, old piece of rubbish). Blogger auto-saves so all was not lost, but even so, my string of expletives was definitely not "very happy." I have a brand-spanking new tablet PC on order, though, and when it arrives later this week I may well go practically Icelandic with joy. Yay?
I didn't look through the entire list, but this was followed by scores more books offering to show me how I, too, could learn always to see the world through rose-coloured glasses. And, really, isn't that a worthy--perhaps even necessary--aspiration? Wilson describes the current cultural ethos as one in which
At the moment, happiness is a preoccupation of everyone from bio-scientists to philosophers and sociologists, psychologists to mass media and Joe Q public. Worldwide, people are being asked: in the greater scheme of things, just how happy would you say you are? The most recent stats I could find (www.nationmaster.com) had Icelanders at the top of the list, with a full 94% of citizens rating themselves as either "quite" or "very" happy with life taken as a whole. The U.K. clocked in at #9 (87% are happy here); the U.S. at #13 (84%); Canada at #17 (75%). At the very bottom of the 50-nation list? Bulgaria, with a score of -24%; over half the Bulgarians surveyed had claimed to either be"not very" or even "not at all" happy with life in general.
Now, I realise that these stats are influenced by any number of factors which I have neither the expertise nor inclination to discuss (phrasing of both the question and the multiple-choice answers; how these were understood by respondents; when, how, and by whom the question was asked; differing cultural values and norms; etc.) Taking the above poll at face value, though, one might take happiness to be an objective, quantifiable subject.
It's not. Happiness is a subjective state, and what I find interesting is the way it's become the only state that someone (OK, a lot of someones) seems to think we ought to be in. I understand that replacing negative thought patterns with more positive ones is a basic principle of cognitive psychology, and I don't discount the value of this. I'm not anti-happiness (and I certainly don't mean to minimise or glorify serious depression, which I view as separate issue entirely), I just wonder...shouldn't emotions be spontaneous rather than conditioned responses to stimuli?
For example, how am I feeling right now? It's mid-afternoon on a rainy British Sunday (is there any other kind? but I digress), and how I came to be writing this was that I surfed to www.aldaily.com and stumbled upon the essay mentioned at the top of my post. Nothing wrong with that, but right now I should really be tidying up the flat--I've had friends over the past couple of nights and things are in a state of casual disarray; I haven't seen the top of my desk in weeks for piles of paper, books, receipts, post-it notes, lists, etc. To my left is a stack of scripts, which reminds me: I'd planned to finish reading those today and choose which ones to use with my 9/10 Drama class. We're starting that unit on Wednesday and--come to think of it--I need to redo the lesson plans for the next three weeks. There was a, ahem, change of direction, and my scheme of work on devising had to be shelved. As for re-planning the unit, well, with all the packing of my office, schlepping back and forth between the old and new (we're in there as of tomorrow) campuses, who's had time? That's not quite true. I've actually had far too much free time during the work day this month (long story), which I haven't really used nearly as productively as I should've; too much free time has fomented boredom; the aimless flipping through of books, articles, the 'net; starting work on one thing but then abandoning it for something else. In short, I've raised raised procrastination to an art. As for the wasted time, I really do wish I'd used it more productively. On the other hand...
Bloody hell, that train of thought could go on forever! And yes, I've just stopped it (glanced down at the time, I really need to get on with things other than this), but it's already reminded me of the capital-m Mood I was in for much of last week. Oy, and all this work I still need to do...
If the World Institute of Happiness was to ring me this very moment, I'm not sure I'd tell them I was feeling "very happy." But so what? Again, I'm not talking about the separate and serious issue of deep depression, but do I really need to be ecstatically joyful all the time? Can't I sometimes just feel "meh"? Last week I was more than meh, I was "grrrrr," maybe even "GRRRRR!" When I first got back to England after Christmas in Canada, I was a bit sad. Does all this mean I'd best navigate back to Amazon and order Happiness? It is, after all, a guide to "life's most important skill"...
Thing is, I think being Happy! all the time wouldn't really be very happy at all. Wouldn't it get rather dull? If I trained myself not to feel anything but happy, how would I even recognise moments of random joy such as those I experienced last night with friends? Would I fully enjoy the serenity I felt this morning after going for a run on my favourite trail in a warm mist of rain? Is perpetually soaring at the heights of bliss a definitively better option than occasionally dropping into a pocket of despair? If it's my constant state, doesn't "happy" actually mean "neutral"?
In short, I won't be taking Matthieu Ricard et. al up on their offers to--for only £6.74 + SH!--train me in the art (though it should be noted that they usually call their brand of it a science) of Happy. I did, however, order Christopher Lane's Shyness: How Normal Behaviour Became a Sickness. Cosmetic pharmacology and the medicalisation of basic personality traits? Don't get me started...
NOTE: Just as I was about to hit "publish post," my computer spontaneously shut down and refused to restart (as it is wont to do, old piece of rubbish). Blogger auto-saves so all was not lost, but even so, my string of expletives was definitely not "very happy." I have a brand-spanking new tablet PC on order, though, and when it arrives later this week I may well go practically Icelandic with joy. Yay?
Friday, 18 January 2008
a silver lining?
So I hop on the treadmill yesterday, glance up at the telly, and every single screen--with the exception of #5, which continued their coverage of some cricket match, bless them--is showing a plane on the ground but distinctly not on a runway, and...well, looking a little beat up. iPod goes off, I plug into the audio, and I learn that British Airways flight 038, Beijing to London, has just crashed a short distance from Heathrow terminal 4.
I flipped between several stations as I ran and, less than an hour after the plane had gone down, a few theories were floating: engine failure? landing gear malfunction? caught in an unexpected air current? pilot error? Of terrorism, though, nary a word.
While all stations, from BBC and CNN to regional and local networks, talked to aviation specialists, eyewitnesses and others about the cause of the crash, what reporters and their interview subjects spent the most time on was the "wow" factor: a plane fell out of the sky and into a field, yet not a single life was lost and (at least initially), only three minor injuries had been reported. BA038 didn't hit its mark on a runway, but neither did it hit any of the homes in the residential areas it had descended perilously close to nor cars on the busy roads nearby. Yes, it looked a little worse for the wear as it lay belly-in-mud in a field, no landing gear visible, but it was essentially in one piece, neither torn to pieces nor engulfed in flames. A plane crash of any kind can haredly be described as minor, but looking at this one..."wow" indeed.
I was struck by how positive the reports were. Above all else, they focused on the fact that true disaster had been averted, and--even as "pilot error" remained a possibility during those first hours--what a credit this was to the captain and his entire crew. It was refreshing. I've become so accustomed to the "who can we blame?!" (typical answer: despicable Jihad warriors) mentality that permeates so many parts of today's world that listening to the first-on-the-scene media look instead for "who did something right" was something of a "wow" itself.
Maybe there's hope for us yet.
I flipped between several stations as I ran and, less than an hour after the plane had gone down, a few theories were floating: engine failure? landing gear malfunction? caught in an unexpected air current? pilot error? Of terrorism, though, nary a word.
While all stations, from BBC and CNN to regional and local networks, talked to aviation specialists, eyewitnesses and others about the cause of the crash, what reporters and their interview subjects spent the most time on was the "wow" factor: a plane fell out of the sky and into a field, yet not a single life was lost and (at least initially), only three minor injuries had been reported. BA038 didn't hit its mark on a runway, but neither did it hit any of the homes in the residential areas it had descended perilously close to nor cars on the busy roads nearby. Yes, it looked a little worse for the wear as it lay belly-in-mud in a field, no landing gear visible, but it was essentially in one piece, neither torn to pieces nor engulfed in flames. A plane crash of any kind can haredly be described as minor, but looking at this one..."wow" indeed.
I was struck by how positive the reports were. Above all else, they focused on the fact that true disaster had been averted, and--even as "pilot error" remained a possibility during those first hours--what a credit this was to the captain and his entire crew. It was refreshing. I've become so accustomed to the "who can we blame?!" (typical answer: despicable Jihad warriors) mentality that permeates so many parts of today's world that listening to the first-on-the-scene media look instead for "who did something right" was something of a "wow" itself.
Maybe there's hope for us yet.
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