Well, I've been living with the aftermath of coming out for a couple of days now, and I'm noticing some benefits:
1) I notice that I feel bigger -- as if my energy is flowing all the way to my edges.
2) I've had occasion to look at my "other" blog, and for a treat, I thought I'd look up this date (Nov. 8th) and see what I was up to a few years back.
This is what I found -- an entry dated 11/8/05 (Three years ago -- fancy that!) -- called:
Feeding the Beast ====================
Last week, while I was pretending to be sick, I did a good bit of “serendipity surfing” on the internet. This is very different than using the internet for research and examination. It involves some elements that can lead to surf haze, but in this case, I was just wandering aimlessly, so I experienced no real disappointment or shock when I arrived at some weird destination (shock at, or a sudden realization of, arrival at an unexpected web location is a primary warning symptom of surf haze).
Here’s a thing I noticed, in many of the threads I was following: There seem to me to be a lot of people out there actively nurturing their anger.
I don’t think that this is always a bad thing. For example, I know some people that tend to live their lives in a fairly inert state, and anger sometimes seems to be the only thing that gets them motivated to take action. If anger does lead them to action, this might actually be a net-gain for them.
Many times, though, I think there can be a state where feeding anger actually becomes a recreational activity — and that this state can become habitual, even enjoyable, to the participant. In this case, taking any action to move the anger would actually become an undesirable thing, for if the anger stops, the “game” is over.
I say this because I became aware of my own attachment to “righteous wrath” in the past. In earlier periods of my life, I would patiently harbor my “little angers” in secret, waiting until someone fucked up so unambiguously that I could jump out, my hair standing on end like John Brown in the Kansas State Capitol Rotunda, and scream “Philistene! Reprobate! Sinner!” In that moment, the experience of anger felt satisfying and potent.
Problem was, this practice rarely changed anything. The person “at” whom I was angry kept doing things that “made” me angry.
And, after a time, my hairdo started to suffer, after so much standing on end.
And — I wasted a lot of my life energy “scouting around” for stuff to get angry about.
And — people around me tended to see me as slightly dangerous (which I think was a justified conclusion, by the way).
A BRIEF PRIMER ON WHAT I NOW BELIEVE/THINK ABOUT ANGER:
I don’t believe that “anger” is an emotion.
I believe that “mad” is an emotion.
I believe that mad comes first, in the moment, and is closely related to the physical experience of “irritation/inflammation” — it indicates that something is breaching the natural boundary of my Self in a way that is out of alignment with Cosmic Law. (I’m not going to go into my understanding of full-fledged Cosmic Law right now. Suffice it to say that it involves us all being connected, sovereignty/free-will being a reality, authenticity required, and equal exchange being necessary to all sustainable systems — oh damn, I just went into my understanding of Cosmic Law.)
I believe that “mad” can be my response when someone else violates Cosmic Law, or when I violate Cosmic Law, and that I was trained to project this emotion outward onto someone else, even if I’m really mad at myself.
I believe that if I don’t deal with “mad” in the moment, it becomes a secondary phenomenon called “anger” — an energy-generating device that says “Do something! Do something! Do something!”, and that this (anger) doesn’t go away until I address the root cause of the “mad”.
I believe that if I don’t deal with “mad”, “anger” will result. If I don’t deal with “anger”, “frustration” will result. If I don’t deal with “frustration”, “rage” will result.
The best example I can give is this (from Carruch, as usual): “Mad is ‘You’re whistling right now and it’s bugging me’. Anger is ‘You whistled yesterday, and you whistled the day before, AND NOW YOU’RE WHISTLING AGAIN!!!’”
I don’t think that anger is necessarily bad, or wrong, or anything like that. I’m just wondering if it’s useful. I’m especially wondering if it’s useful to nurture it.
I’ve been trying to remember if any of the “political” people that I know, or read of (or the extremely political person I used to be), have ever really demonstrated some form of pure “glad” in their various speaking/writing for any length of time.
Oh, sure, among liberals, there was that five minutes when Clinton won his first term. And when G.W. Bush “took back” the White House, there was a bit of celebratory feeling among conservatives. But how long was it actively sustained?
I think people can actually become addicted to remaining angry.
Think about it. It’s high energy. Anything that can make your hair do that (just take another look at Mr. Brown up there) must be chock full ‘o ergs.
However, I have my doubts about anger as a long-term recreational drug.
Yes, it is energetic, but that energy has to come from somewhere. And in my experience, it generally comes from the person who is invested in remaining angry. Anger is a hungry beast. It requires a lot of time and attention to keep it smoldering at just the right level to provide the desired level of heat without singing the person that is pumping the bellows.
In my line of work, and in the way I live my life, I have the opportunity to hear a lot of people’s stories. In the past few years, I had the opportunity to interact with two people who were betrayed by their spouses.
Both were in long-term relationships. Both of their spouses betrayed them in blatant, overt, and similar manners. There were parallels in their stories that were spookily synchronistic as I listened to each of them, right down to the specific questions that they each asked which finally elucidated the real nature and extent of the betrayal.
It was fascinating for me to watch these two stories unfold — as if the Universe had placed me in a laboratory with two experiments to observe — both with the same root cause: dishonesty in relationship.
And each with very different outcomes.
My perspective is: One person chose to act on their anger. The other chose to nurture it.
Some years later, I see the effects of these choices. I hear the person who chose action (in my opinion, the request that anger is making) now speaks of their life with renewed direction, hope, and vigor, and rarely speaks of their ex-spouse. I hear the person who chose nurturance speak of being uncertain of which way to go, and mentioning their ex-spouse in nearly every interaction I have with them.
My “scientific” conclusions are, after observing these situations:
If I choose to take responsibility for my anger (an abrogation and dereliction of attending to my initial “mad”), and take the action that anger requests, I will likely move through and beyond it.
If I choose to remain angry and nurture anger, I will likely become inextricably connected to the “object” of my anger.
There is an old saw in our culture: “Don’t get mad, get even.”
I don’t care for the implications of this saying, because I do not believe that “revenge” settles anything — I believe that it simply sets me on another cycle of karma with the person I supposedly “avenging” myself on.
However, if I look at the actual words “Get Even”, I think there might be something in this statement that I want to examine. Something about anger, action and energy exchange.
I believe that dishonesty/manipulation/deceit, etc., sets up an energetic imbalance between individuals. I do not believe that relationships can thrive and remain sustainable if energetic imbalances are not brought into balance (and the sooner, the better).
In observing the person who chose action in response to their anger, I noticed that they moved fairly quickly to directly addressing the energetic imbalance that had existed throughout their relationship with their ex-spouse. I heard from them full admission of their choice to participate in a relationship that had not been satisfying for them for many years.
Yes, this person experienced moments of great anger, which they vented to me quite clearly. However, in a very short time, they seemed to come to the conclusion that remaining angry without taking any real action was exhausting. Their energy, as they moved through their process, seemed extremely variable. They seemed to move in and out of various emotional states quickly — now feeling glad that it was over, now feeling mad about the betrayal, now feeling sad at the loss, now feeling scared about what might be next, now feeling bad about their own participation and self-betrayal. These states of feeling were often entertained simultaneously, or in quick succession.
In observing the person who chose nurturance of their anger, I noticed that, while they would occasionally acknowledge that they had been unsatisfied with the relationship for many years, they seemed to talk much more frequently about the betrayal. In listening to this person, the ongoing dynamic of the relationship seemed to me to be compressed and oversimplified into this “event”, and other persons involved in the event.
This person also experienced moments of great anger, which they vented to me quite clearly. I noticed, however, that there were very few other emotional experiences expressed. I heard much more rarely about any sadness at the loss of the ex-spouse, or feeling glad that it was over, or feeling bad about any self-betrayal. In fact, simultaneous (or conflicting) states of emotion were rarely expressed.
Which cycles me back to the words “get even”. I think that there is great healing potential in the idea of re-balancing long-term energy imbalance. I think this is the essential core of the concept of “revenge” — to somehow reclaim some form of energy imbalance that was created in the process of relating.
But (and as PeeWee always says — a very big BUT) I believe that I might be skating on very thin ice if I attempt to “become even” in a long-term relationship (that hasn’t been cleaned up and attended to along the way) based on a single event within that relationship.
Yes, you may have betrayed me. You may have committed the unspeakable and socially unacceptable act, upon which I can pounce and pronounce myself the John-Brown-holy-man, and you, the sinful reprobate — and then I can be socially sanctioned to remain angry at you forever!
But . . . .
But . . . .
It doesn’t feel any better, really, to be “right”, in the end. It doesn’t remove the longing ache of my sad at the loss of you in my life, the crushing pressure of my bad at my own self-betrayals, the terrifying loneliness of my scared, or my glad relief that finally, something has happened, if only an ending. “Being right” and “staying angry” only covers these emotions with a thing that (temporarily) feels more energetic and enlivening — my mad turned to anger –
The Beast I Feed.
The beast I fed.
I’m pretty dedicated to my pets. Even those who have been given to me, unbidden, I take seriously. I feed and care for them. I consider that I invited them at some level of my being, so I will not abandon them.
(OK -- now that we've got that other thing out of the way, let's get back to business, shall we?)
I'm a firm believer in keeping Power and Responsibility in the same place. I think they are so closely intertwined that it is, in reality, impossible to truly separate them. You can try, of course (and many people do).
"Blame", on the other hand? Well . . . . .
In the bare few days since the election, there's been a whole lot of . . . . . what's the word I'm looking for . . . . . .Coverage? No -- wait, I've nearly got it . . . . . . Media Exposure? No, that's not quite right, either . . . . Oh, here it is -- Shit! -- Yes, there's been a whole lot of Shit going around about how Teh Blacks are to blame for Proposition 8's passage.
I'm going to take this as the example in this installment of Shit Not To Do Because It Doesn't Work.
Let's start with a few basic principles:
Principle #1: "Laying", or "Placing" Blame may look quick and easy when you first go to it, but in fact, it usually takes quite a bit of mental gymnastics and twisting of logic in the end.
Using our example: Consider that in order for the Black vote to be "to blame" in Prop 8, those of African American descent who were eligible to vote in California (including every queer black person) would have had to defy all election probabilities and the principles of simple math.
Principle #2: Finding where the Responsibility rests (as opposed to Laying/Placing Blame) requires very little mental energy -- because it already has a location -- you just have to look and see where the Power is.
Again -- using our example: First -- in this case, the major power behind the passage of Prop 8 was a huge influx of cash to fund a misinformation campaign -- so just Follow the Money -- go ahead -- check out that list, and do a google image search on the names of the top contributors. Of the top 4 contributors (those who funded Prop 8 with donations of more than $1 Million) -- 3 were not from California at all, but rather, Connecticut, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania. Go ahead -- check those individuals and organizations out -- see many faces of color there -- or any? Also, the Church of Latter Day Saints (LDS) was a major force in raising smaller donations, and mounted a huge signage and outreach campaign. The LDS -- you know -- that well-known seat of radical black-power?
Anyway -- my point is that, in this society, $$ = Power -- and as I said before, Power and Responsibility are inseparable.
Now, obviously, individual responsibility for each person's vote rests with the individual -- because that person had the power to pull the lever, press the button, or pencil-in the oval. So if you want to get mad at your neighbor, your mother, your friend, etc., who voted Yes on 8, go right ahead -- but get mad at them for their vote.
If you want to start placing responsibility at a more meta-level, better look for the ultimate source of collective power. (Clue words: Conservative, Wealthy, Patriarchal, Religious, and Predominantly White). Individuals who voted Yes on 8 may be like the cells in a body, but they would never have gotten to the polls without The Brain that was saturated in issues of control, repression, fear-mongering and intolerance.
Proponents of Prop 8 will be using this phrase a lot in the coming days, I imagine: "The People Have Spoken!!!!!!"
Well, not exactly. Since CA has a population of 36.5 million, registered voters of 17.3 mill, and a 62.5% turnout, actually only 29.6% of the people have spoken -- and 14.1% of them said "No".
Think of that. If California were a room full of 17 people (we'll just take the registered voters here), and they took a vote to do something important that would affect all of them in the future, and 6 of those people didn't vote at all (maybe they had a headache, were too busy at the canape tray, or were one of those "I hate meetings" people), and the remaining 11 voted 6-5 -- well, that's hardly a sweeping mandate, is it?
When the headache is over and canapes are gone, you've now got a group of people who are all now collectively responsible for a project that only 35% of them have clearly said they want to do, 30% of them clearly don't want to do it, and 35% of them don't seem to care. (BTW -- this is why I don't like our current democratic system.)
But back to the topic at hand: It seems to me that there's a tricksy-falseness going on with the whole thing in the aftermath of Prop 8 -- an odd, simultaneous --"THEY did it!" living side by side with "The people have spoken!"-- which I believe is all about an attempt to lay blame (shift responsibility) while retaining power.
Which doesn't, ultimately, work -- for the following reason: The neat thing about responsibility is that if you actually have it, it means that you also have power.
Which means if you don't like the consequences of your actions, when you take responsibility for them, you can change them. Cool, huh?
Of course, the bummer is that if you do shit that you can't really stand behind (I am so sick of hearing the phrase "I don't hate gay people, but . . . . . "), you are still responsible for your action, because you had the power to take it.
(And this post is not even touching on the intricacies of how The Brain probably courted and played quite intentionally on existing homophobia within populations that they normally don't give a shit about.)
Let's take this to a more mundane and familiar example: Teenagers.
Raising adolescents is widely reported to be a total bitch (I would confirm this). I think it's a power and responsibility thing.
Teenagers are all about coming into their power as adults. However, in our society, they are considered kids (for whom the parents have responsibility) until they are 18.
Ask a parent of a teen -- they will probably admit to you that they realize that they can't actually control their kid. The dance of teens and parents in this culture usually relies on a tacit agreement that we're not going to say out loud what we all know:
That we can't control them, and they know we can't control them, and we know they know we can't control them, and they know we know this.
Legally, the kid can't be completely responsible until they're 18 (unless they emancipate early) -- and so ensues the awful struggle for them to somehow wrest little bits of power away where they can. Shutting us out of their rooms. Sneaking out at night. Standing in the middle of an argument and speaking in the broad light of day the dirty little secret that is so carefully avoided when cooler heads prevail: "You can't make me!"
On the parental side, we are frustrated by our kid's insistence on increasing power while attempting to avoid responsibility. We chafe at the unfairness of being held responsible for the actions of someone else over whom we really do not have power.
I am intentionally using both a collective and an individual example of what happens when responsibility and power do not dwell firmly together, because I believe that this is an issue which runs from top to bottom in our culture.
I also find the second example a bit amusing, in light of the LDS' statement yesterday:
"The Church calls on those involved in the debate over same-sex marriage to act in a spirit of mutual respect and civility towards each other. No one on either side of the question should be vilified, intimidated, harassed or subject to erroneous information."
-- which, in this case -- since the Yes on 8 relied so heavily on erroneous information, is like a parent saying "Do as I say, not as I do".
Which will drive your teenager crazy.
But I digress.
This statement from the LDS came in response to protests which have been brought right to their doorstep -- and I believe that is an extremely effective tactic -- it indicates that protesters have located the site of responsibility -- right where the power is.
"Millions of others from every faith, ethnicity and political affiliation who voted for Proposition 8 exercised the most sacrosanct and individual rights in the United States - that of free expression and voting,"
Well, yeah, but no other faith group that represents only 2% of the CA population provided 47% of the funding for Prop 8. No other faith group (that we know of) issued letters from the highest elders of their church designed to directly influence the vote, or broadcasted messages encouraging their members to "go viral". Whether this activity violates the 501(c)3 requirements of the LDS is yet to be seen -- but the wielding of power is undeniable.
It's kind of funny (in an "ouch" way) isn't it -- the LDS wants to be a bad parent (Do as I say . . . . ) and a bad teenager (You're so mean! All the others kids were doing it!) -- all at the same time.
You want the Power? Guess what comes with it.
[/end homo rant portion]
To apply this lesson more generally: If you're ever wonder whether you're "laying" Blame rather than letting Responsibility "rest" where it belongs, notice how much effort is involved -- and where the Power is. ================ Part IV in an ongoing series. SNTDBIDW -- Part One, Two & Three Here
Well, it's 10 minutes to midnight on All-Hallows/Samhain -- I haven't posted in 3 weeks, so I thought I'd just leave you with some 3-year old pumpkins (no pumpkins this year -- too busy)
Of course, nothing is sadder than what happens to perfectly good pumpkins later.
Since a lot of people seem to be very focused on the subject of "money" lately, I thought I'd take this opportunity to present a little Portly Lecture.
*clearing throat*
PART I
A Very Brief and Completely Inadequate History of Money (With Extra-Added Bonus Feature: A Number of Sweeping Conclusions Which May Be More Conjectural Than Factual).
The first form of inter-tribal "commodity" money (approx. 9000 -1 bc) was probably livestock/cattle, and some archaeologists/anthropologists suspect that the first form of "representative" money (something that was not the Valuable Thing itself, but rather, an acceptable stand-in for the Valuable Thing) might have been a scrap of hide that represented one cow or one sheep, etc. -- so that you didn't have to actually move the cattle around in order to make the deal -- because moving cattle costs them energy and requires feeding them along the way, and risks them being attacked by predators, etc..
Cowrie shells later had a good go as "money" in a number of cultures (one of the Chinese characters for money is actually based on the shape of a cowrie shell). Cowries and other shells were used as currency in parts of Africa, Asia, and North America. Cowrie shells and later coined money are sometimes referred to as "commodity" money, but I actually think that they were "representational" money as well, for reasons I'll go into below.
Some other forms of "commodity money" (think of this as "stuff that everybody will probably need/use at some point, or which they can trade to someone else who will probably need it) that humans have tried on during the last 11,000 years or so are: amber, drums, eggs, feathers, gongs, ivory, jade, leather, mats, nails, oxen, pigs, quartz, rice, salt, shovel-heads, hoes, various metal ingots, and thimbles.
Why the history lesson? Well, to make one point very clear: Money is nothing more than agreement.
The proof of this is that, even though Cowrie shells were considered perfectly good as legal tender in a wide range of ancient cultures, I'm guessing that you would not be willing to let me purchase your house with them today. (If you would be willing to do so, please email me -- I happen to have some very lovely cowrie shells.)
I find myself particularly bemused when thinking about Cowries as currency, because, although they are pretty and shiny and all, they really have no intrinsic "survival" value aside from any agreement the ancients might have had that they were recognized currency (unlike, say, eggs, salt, or shovel-heads).
You can't eat a cowrie shell. You can't turn a cowrie shell into a tool. Unless you have someone else who agrees with you that they are "money", they are exclusively ornamental.
Which is why I laugh when I hear people rant about the importance of the "gold standard".
Archaeological finds suggest that gold has been used as a form of currency since the 7th century BCE.
My chuckles about the gold standard stem from the fact that gold is so closely parallel to cowrie shells in many respects: Pretty. Shiny. Can't eat it. Lousy for making tools.
In fact, gold's widespread usefulness as a Valuable Thing in its own right (rather than its value as ornament, or any agreements about gold as a currency) is fairly recent -- arriving with the advent of industrial, electronic, and medical uses for gold.
So in the sense of gold's pre-industrial-age value as currency, I actually think gold kind of sucks when compared to cowries as a form of currency -- because gold is heavy -- really heavy -- and the whole idea of agreed-upon currency is to create a portable symbol of agreement so that the underlying barter of goods (which is the true purpose of any representational economic system) is more efficient.
The transport inefficiencies with gold and other metal coinage (why risk a dozen perfectly good oxen dragging some heavy-ass gold around with you as you vacationed in Capri? -- not to mention the danger of robbers) was probably what gave rise to paper money -- and we've been moving toward ever more efficient and portable agreements about money since paper money was first printed in China in the 5th century CE -- we've moved from printed currency to "checks" to paper credit cards and accounts to plastic with numbers to magnetic strips.
But again -- this is all just an agreement -- a rather fragile agreement, as we have been witnessing in recent weeks.
At the end of the US Civil War, Confederate paper money (which started out with a high value at the start of Secession) was valueless -- after the War, these tokens of previous agreement were used to insulate clothing and as litter for hen-houses.
Nowadays, you can buy a set of 13 Confederate banknotes on ebay for around $8 -- but it still isn't valued as currency -- it's been relegated to the pretty/shiny/unusual classification that an ancient trade-bead or cowrie shell has -- because it lacks this one thing:
Agreement.
When I send you a check or a paypal transfer or whatever for xx.xx$USD, it's because we agree that xx.xx$USD=xx.xx$USD or xx.xx₤ or xx.xx$Canadian or xx.xxPesos or xx.xxYen or whatever.
That agreement changes day to day, and here's the first reason that Money Sucks:
Money Suckage #1: You and I don't actually get to be direct, advised parties to that changing agreement.
We don't. We really don't. Not in this culture, anyway. We go online and look at the rate for today that someone else (not us) agrees that our "money" is worth as compared to other types of "money", or as compared to what "our money" was worth yesterday, and then we either groan or cheer.
And when we try to find out who that "someone else" might be? It's this mysterious something called "The Market". It's no one that we can talk to or negotiate with -- it's this huge, weird system that most of us feel baffled and confused by.
Truth is, though, that "The Market" is nothing but a network of human beings and their agreements, and believe me -- somewhere, there is someone (or a collection of someones) who types in numbers and makes decisions and today, I know that that someone is not me, and that collection of someones is not me and my friends/allies/acquaintances (and if some of you friends/allies/acquaintances out there are in this group of someones, and you're holding out on me here, I am letting you know right now that I am not getting you a birthday present this year!).
Money Suckage #2: Wage Slavery
The second way that money sucks is this: The vast majority of people on this planet live in societies in which money is pretty much necessary for basic survival. This, in itself, is not a problem, as agreement on a portable method of exchange is handy and efficient and facilitates a wider range of exchanges.
The problem arises because of this: The vast majority of that vast majority exchange hours of their time, and the use of their energy (in varying forms of muscle-power, brain-power, etc.) in order to "earn" money.
As Joe says at 5:00 of this clip: ".... my life. I sold it to you for $300 freakin' dollars a week!"
Again, even this "sale of life" is not, in itself, a problem -- but here's the rub for me:
Let's take two jobs:
Person A is a 22-year-old delivery-driver, making $10/hour.
Person B is a 48-year-old retail salesperson, making minimum wage ($6.55/hour).
(And yes, these are real-life examples based on people that I actually know.)
Each of them are selling hours of their life, with comparable energy-outputs in terms of physical demands.
Where do I find the arrogance to say that an hour of one of these individual's lives is worth more or less than an hour of the other's?
Think of someone you love for a moment. Let's say that they are about to die, and you have the power to ransom them -- for a price. How much would you pay for another hour of their existence? How much for another day? Another year?
This is where the concept of money gets really difficult for me. I simply have a hard time getting behind any system which arbitrarily "agrees" that an hour of one human being's existence can be worth, say, $120/hour (or more), while an hour of another human being's existence can be worth 50 cents (or less).
I've struggled with this concept for a long, long time, and have not yet resolved it for myself to any degree of real satisfaction.
I suppose that makes me a socialist.
When I add the reality that the valuation of what an hour of my life is worth according to "The Market" may change at any moment, with or without my agreement, or the agreement of the person making $120/hr or certainly, the person making 50 cents/hr . . . . . well . . . . . . why do so many people seem shocked that the system is disintegrating? I believe that we all knew that it wasn't fair, or balanced, or even realistic over the long term -- I believe that we all knew this -- for a very long time.
So, now that I've talked about how much money sucks, let me tell you why I think it doesn't suck:
Money, as a pure concept of a mutually-agreed-upon form of efficient exchange, definitely does not suck. If you and I and a whole bunch of other people can agree that cowrie shells can stand in for a number of other things that we might want to exchange easily and portably, I think that's great.
However, I think that there are some things that are currently not agreed-upon in global human society that we should settle -- before we get on with this whole "money" thing:
1) Everyone who wants itgets a place to live that is safe and hygienic. 2) Everyone who wants it gets enough to eat. 3) Everyone who wants itgets serviceable clothing that will protect them from the elements. 4) Everyone who wants it gets medical care and treatment.
Once that's all taken care of, anyone who wants to develop a trade or service for which they charge 200 cowries per hour is free to do so (as long as it doesn't impact the basic right of any other human to enjoy basic shelter, food, clothing, and medical care). I can agree with them (or not) that I will turn over my cowrie shells at their hourly rate for whatever trinket or service they are selling.
I mean -- if we're going to play a gigantic shell-game -- then let's play it with gusto, and consciousness, and mutual agreement.
Add to this the fact that I was a budding professional insomniac by age 7, and this guaranteed that the night before a big test, or an important school project, I would be laying in bed for hours and hours and hours with eyes so sanpaku that I could have auditioned for the part of mass-murderer in the 2nd grade pageant (of course, if I'd gotten the part, I would have laid awake for hours and hours and hoursthe night before the pageant, worrying about it).
On one such night, I wandered downstairs while my parents were watching Johnny Carson and announced that, since there was no way I was going to get to sleep ever, I should be allowed to stay up and watch the Tonight Show with them.
At which point, my dad gave me a piece of advice that, if advice could be worn out, would be nothing but bare shreds of advice by now (or perhaps, simply trace advice-residue), so often and so thoroughly have I applied it.
"If you're worried about something and it's keeping you awake, and there's something you can do about right now, then get up right now and do that something. If not, then remember that you've done all you can right now, and get a good night's sleep."
If I recall correctly, in that particular instance, the awful, haunting, worrisome thing was a Social Studies test, for which I had done all the studying I could have possibly done, so I went back upstairs and fell fast asleep.
Now, as regards Worrying being Shit Not To Do Because It Doesn't Work, I'm not going to hand you some simplistic "Don't Worry, Be Happy" shit.
I'm going to talk about the merits of refraining from -- or transforming -- Worry based on the original premise of this series -- that the best reason not to worry is that worry doesn't work -- it doesn't actually do anything.
Personally, I think that worry and guilt are two of the most useless pastimes in the world. (Sadly, this doesn't mean I don't engage in these useless pastimes.)
I do not even deign to call them "emotions", because I don't think that they are emotions. I think that they are mental exercises.
Worry is, essentially, a form of fear -- (for what's it's worth, I don't think that Fear is actually an emotion, either, but seriously, if this post is not going to be a nonillion characters long, we're just going to have to save Portly's Definitions of Real, True Emotions for another time, so bear with me for this one, 'K?)
My problem with worry is that, unless you actually harness it as a motivating force (which few people seem to do) I don't see what usefulness it has.
In fact, worry tends to be counterproductive for many (if not most) of us -- giving rise to a certain paralyzed, lethargic state in which the bulk of our energy is channeled into the worrying --and leaving very little energy left over for taking action.
I could go on and on about how this energy-misdirection results in the Worrier taking no action on the thing that's worrying them, thus deepening the cause for worry, but I won't.
Instead, I'm going to move directly into some suggestions about how to stop/refrain from/transform Worrying.
1) Part one of dad's advice has been very effective for me. If I'm laying awake at night worrying, and I can do something that would move the worrisome situation forward for me, I get up right then, and I do that something.
Sometimes, if this is in the middle of the night, this is drafting or even sending an email, sitting down to pay the bills (even if I don't have the money in the bank right at that moment, I actually write the checks out and show any negative balance to myself, so that I have an idea about the actuality of the problem, and have a goal to work toward), or typing out an imagined conversation that I can't actually have right at that moment (because that person would probably be pissed as hell if I called them at 3 am), but that I'm worried about having (this exercise often shows me what anticipated responses from the other person I'm worried about in the conversation).
2) If you're worried about something that you cannot do anything about right now, get that shit out of your head. Stop offering it massive real-estate in your brain. Easier said than done, you say? Well, of course -- but here are some tricks I use:
Make the "Oh-Shit-Oh-Fuck" list. When I'm truly worrying away about something over which I have absolutely no power (not that anyone might be having that problem right about now, I'm sure *ahem*), I actually follow my worry out on paper. I write down what I'm worried might happen -- I might write: "I'll lose my job". Then I ask the question: "Yeah, and then what?" -- which generally leads to something like: "Then I won't be able to pay my bills", or yours might be: "I'll lose my health benefits, and won't be able to pay for the medication I need". I ask again: "Yeah, and then what?" I follow those worries/fears down to the ultimate conclusion (which is usually something like "And then I'll die") to the greatest extent that I can. I put them on paper. If I discover some part of it that I can actually do something about, I write that on a to-do list. If not, I set the OSOF list aside, and if I come up with something else I'm worrying about, I add it to the list. Then, when the worries arise and seem about to eat me, I glance over at the list and think: "Yeah, I've heard that before" or "Oh -- hey! That's a new one! My! Aren't we creative!" *scribble, scribble scribble*. Sometimes, when I go to bed, I'll actually say: "Goodnight, list -- I know you'll probably still be here in the morning, but if not, sweet dreams!"
Talk to someone else about my worries (even small, seemingly ridiculous worries). Preferably someone who isn't likely to commiserate with me in the direction of more worrying.
Make a description of what's actually happening now in my life, and compare it to my worries list. Not as a way of negating the real concerns, or even the ridiculous worries, but as a way of balancing my perspective -- a way of saying: "Yes, I have this worry, and here's what's happening now".
These tricks seem to help me manage my worrying (and get some sleep). When I'm keeping my worries cooped up inside my brain, they tend to bounce off the walls with increasing speed and fury. Getting them metaphorically outside of my brain, while still acknowledging them, seems to be important for me.
For those of you who follow the idea that thought creates reality, and worry (oh no!) that these strategies will simply resonate the thing that you are worried about, well, this is how I look at it: The worry is already in my head. I can deny that and simply try to "think good thoughts", but I've found that that doesn't really work for me.
When I'm feeling worried, and I try to "talk myself down" with positive affirmations, it doesn't seem to work. I think that it's a way of "shushing" the worries, which just makes the worries more worried, because after all, if they were actually invalid, why would I shush them instead of simply hearing them out and saying "That's not a realistic concern" or "That's a completely valid concern and I'll do everything I can to address it"?
In my recent contemplations of the current economic situation (my own and the nation's/world's), I have come to the conclusion that, should it really all go to the worst kind of shit imaginable in a catastrophic, melt-downish manner that I have no control over, I would rather have spent this time feeling alive and engaged, rather than worried and paralyzed.
I'm not saying that you "shouldn't" worry, or that the worries people are entertaining are invalid or unreasonable -- I'm just questioning the effectiveness of turning a large amount of the rather formidable brain-power that exists amongst my friends and acquaintances to that activity.
I'm attempting to practice something other than worry because I've tried it before, and that shit does not work.
Yesterday, I got an alert from Amazon Honor-Pay System that $81 had been transferred from my donation bucket to my bank account.
Seems three of you donated anonymously (I had been alerted about one of the four donations I received that wasn't anonymous), and I want to say -- Thank You, from the bottom of my heart.
The last six months have been a bit dicey for us financially, as I'm sure they have been for many of you. I do a lot of the work that I do in the meat-world free of charge as a minister, and rely on my small business to pay my daily bills -- that's my choice and my desire, but my personal business service is of the type that people generally purchase only after the rent is paid and the groceries are secured (as it should be!), so cash has been pretty thin for us.
The fact that folks left donations during this time when I know that many are worried about finances warmed my heart even more, and that $81 brightened my day considerably. That amount is more than double the total amount that I've received in donations in the entire time I've had the donation-box up -- it was a wonderful surprise -- a little miracle on the 1st of a month when I needed a little miracle.
My Beloved said: "Hey! You got paid for writing!" -- I guess that makes me an "author" now. ;)
On the "more good news" side of the equation, we just found out yesterday that it looks as if we've found someone to share our current space with us, so we'll probably be able to remain where we are for the Winter. We were ready to give notice for the end of November (kind of a lousy time to move in the Northwest).
So -- Thank You -- to those of you who donated, and to those of you who read and comment. Your support means a lot to me, and helps me keep on keepin' on.
I do not personally know a single adult human being who hasn't danced out at least one horrifically dysfunctional (at worst) or annoyingly ineffective (at best) pattern in their life.
Granted, I do not personally know the Dalai Lama, and I acknowledge that there may be a plethora of exceptional human beings who do not run up against this challenge -- but if they exist, I have not met them yet.
If you are one of these exceptional human beings -- someone who has never once had the thought: "Uh-oh, here we go again!", or "Oh shit, I've had this exact same argument before, with this exact same person", or "Crappity-crap-crap! I KNEW I shouldn't have done this!!!!!!" -- please introduce yourself -- I will consider you the exception that proves the rule.
I will leave aside, for the moment, the multitudinous psychological and metaphysical discussions that we might have about why otherwise bright people sometimes engage in patterns of behavior that are self- or other-destructive, counter-productive, or just plain stupid.
I will instead, attempt to describe the "Because It Doesn't Work" aspect of dysfunctional patterns, and offer some suggestions.
I will start with an example, by way of personal anecdote, about one of the "patterns" that plagued me for many years.
For many, many, many years -- (like 46 years) -- it seemed to me that the only type of person that I could possibly be attracted to as an intimate partner was a "withdrawer".
Which was problematic for me.
You see, I am not a "withdrawer". I am an "advancer".
If a conflict arises, I am the type of person who wants to confront it immediately, and talk it out until it is resolved, no matter how tired, hungry, angry, or cold I am at the time (and therefore, often, how fairly in-equipped I am to find resolution at the time) .
However -- I have, with atomic-clock-like precision, paired with partners who were my polar opposite in this respect -- human beings who tended to want to take time away from the issue until they were not so tired/hungry/angry/cold before they attempted resolution -- or who wanted to take time away from the issue altogether -- forever -- and seemed to actually prefer entertainingthe subtle, toxic undertone of unresolved shit, as if it were some kind of exotic spice for Relationship Stew (pun intended).
For many years, I approached this dilemma with a single strategy: I would simply batter away until I got them to "deal with it".
Ask me how that worked out.
Over time, I began to realize that I was approaching these situations in a most unscientific, illogical, and irrational manner -- I, who prided myself on my rationality, and my logic.
Here's the metaphor: If you were a scientist, and you went into the laboratory and mixed two chemicals in a beaker, and the reaction of the two chemicals was such that it blew the laboratory sky high, and burned the fuck out of you -- would you rebuild the same exact laboratory, and mix those exact two chemicals in precisely the same kind of beaker again?
OK -- maybe you would -- one more time. Tops.
On this second attempt, though, if you blew the lab to smithereens and burned the fuck out of yourself again -- well, chances are that you would . . . . . . Try Something Different.
Strangely, I didn't do that for many years. Instead, I kept applying the same disastrous formula to my experiments -- over, and over, and over, and over.
It went like this: a) Problem arose in relationship (usually in the form of conflict or disagreement). b) Argument ensued . . . . or Discussion ensued -- and quickly devolved into Argument. c) Partner who had low-tolerance for conflict or ongoing process demonstrated fatigue, or expressed desire to go away and process internally before continuing to talk. (I tend to process "on-the-fly", as I talk.) d) I would press partner further, often pulling out the "Never go to bed angry" card, or claiming that their need for a break was simply avoidance (which observation may have actually been correct, in some cases). e) My pressing would simply add to low-conflict-tolerance partner's overload, and render them even less likely to want to engage. f) At that point, I would generally push harder and thus, exponentially grow the conflict.
(Lab Note, circa 2002: After several dozen disastrous explosions in the period between 1974 and 1983, I undertook a slightly different approach for the next eight years in which I chose to give the subject "space", while fastidiously resenting the fuck out of them. This procedure ultimately resulted in a somewhat delayed, but much larger, explosion. During the period from 1991 to 2002, I alternated between the "press on" and "back off and simmer" procedures, with consistent results. [see attached slides of rubble and broken glass].)
I'm not 100% sure why I persisted in applying just thesetwo strategies for so many years, but I have a partial hypothesis, and some strong hunches. The hypothesis is the result of years of in-depth therapy, wherein I figured out that I was in reaction to my mother's tendency to withdraw in the face of any conflict. The hunches are along the lines of: I suspect that I held in my mind some notion that if my partner got what they wanted, it meant that I couldn't get what I wanted (because that was the way it had worked in my FOO).
I'm not fond of the concept of "compromise". I don't think it's bad as a theory, but I've rarely seen it work in practice.
The Merriam-Webster definition of compromise demonstrates why that may be so, I think:
Compromise: 1 a: settlement of differences by arbitration or by consent reached by mutual concessionsb: something intermediate between or blending qualities of two different things 2: a concession to something derogatory or prejudicial compromise of principles
I think that, all too often, while meaning #1 is usually the intended theory, meaning #2 more often represents the actuality.
What's interesting to me is that, even though I had self-awareness about my dynamic with my mom and my family-of-origin, and insights about my own judgments concerning the concept of compromise, this didn't magically get me to stop blowing up the laboratory (I'll speak more below on what did end my lab-annihilation streak).
Before I do that, however, I want to note that these were my particular chemicals and beakers -- yours may be different.
You may be the person at the other end of the spectrum -- the person who overloads easily in conflict, and needs space to process internally before having the energetic resources to resolve things with others (and isn't it remarkable how often we pair in just this manner -- Withdrawer with Advancer, Introvert with Extrovert, etc.?) OR Your particular pattern may have nothing whatsoever to do with personal relationships, but rather, it may a pattern that you have repeated ad nauseum in your work life, or your spiritual path, or in some other arena of your life.
Here's what I did to change the withdrawer/advancer dynamic in my intimate relationship:
I did something different.
About six months into my current relationship -- the relationship in which I found the love of my life -- the apple of my eye -- the floatage for my boatage -- the frosting for my flakes -- I noticed that "that thing" was starting to show up. That oh-no!-so-familiar thing: My partner withdrawing, and me pressing on.
Prior to meeting my Beloved, I had assumed, from the frequency of my patterned behavior in intimate relationships, that I just had what I called a "broken picker". I assumed that I had simply made poor choices in pairing -- by choosing partners who happened to demonstrate traits that were like my mother, and which, consequently, triggered the living hell out of me.
However, with the Beloved, I felt quite clear that I had made the correct "pick". I was madly, frothingly, in love with her, and she was madly, frothingly in love with me back. This was not at question for either of us in any way.
So, when the dreaded pattern started showing up, I had two epiphanies: 1) Maybe I was picking people "like that" for a reason -- that reason being that I actually needed to clear up this pattern, and 2) Maybe my past approaches had simply been ineffective -- not "wrong" -- not "bad" -- simply inefficient.
During our third big repetitive fight (in the car -- bad place to fight, btw), as I found myself thinking: "Here I/we go again!", I did something I had never done before -- I pulled the car over to the side of the road, and I said exactly what I was thinking:
"Sugar, I adore you. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. And. . . . . .what we're doing now? -- Where you withdraw and I press on? I've done that before, and I don't want to do it any more. So, if this is what we're going to do in the future, I think we should just break up right now, even though I'm madly, frothingly in love with you, and I know you're in love with me, too. Because I already know where this goes, and I just don't want to go there any more."
My Beloved stopped, looked thoughtful for a minute, and said: "Yeah, I've gone here before, too, and this isn't how I want to do it, either . . . . . let's do something different."
Since that day, six years ago, we've been doing it differently.
Our particular form of doing it differently means that we don't compromise -- but rather that we work collectively to make sure that each of our needs gets met in our interactions. This means that I sometimes give her space to think and process at her own pace, but that she also recognizes my "need for speed", and that when she does take space to process, she makes a concerted effort to actually process, rather than simply escape (which she admitted was one of her patterns). It means that I acknowledge that my "need for speed" can be just as much a tactic for escape from discomfort as I used to think her need for process-time was. It means that when we come into conflict with each other (which is remarkably rare these days), we often end up choosing to do things that are not necessarily as immediately "comfortable" as our old patterned choices were -- but since we've tried those patterns out pretty thoroughly, and discovered that they just don't work, we're each willing to go through that discomfort.
So, if you hear yourself saying or thinking things like: "Here we/I go again!", or "Damn! I thought I had figured this out, and here it is once more!" -- or even "See! I told you this would happen!", I'd suggest to you that you have just admitted that you are dealing with a pattern -- something with which you have enough experience that you can recognize it when it comes around again, and dread the results as predictable.
I would posit that it is at this precise moment of recognition that you have the opportunity to Do Something Different.
That "Something Different" will probably feel (at least initially) uncomfortable and unfamiliar -- which is usually a very good sign that it is actually Something Different.
And if you blow up the lab again?
Well, at least you will have new data about what works and what doesn't work.
Since we're talking 700 Billion dollars, and there are nearly 7 billion people on the planet, how about we just go Absolute Deregulation on their asses? -- Give every single human on the planet 100 dollars and let them do whatever the fuck they want with it.
Now, the current estimated world population is only 6.725 billion as of this month, so, rather than fight over that remaining $27.50, maybe we could do something else with that -- let me think . . . . oh . . . . like, having a huge fuck-off party!
OK, now I realize that this KISS approach may be too "Act Globally, Think Universally" for some of you, so I have a couple of other ideas -- especially if you think that it would be unfair for US taxpayers to have to foot the bill for the whole world's sudden multi-billionaire status. I have to say that some part of me agrees that, even though we will all be multi-billionaires, too, each of us USofA tax-payin' citizens would have to part with $2,324.50 of our new-found wealth to pay for this approach, and that would just not be fair.
If you want to "keep US wealth in the US", my other two Better Ideas might be more palatable for you -- and they're both actually based in another KISS principle -- How about we just obey United States law?
Since legal precedent generally treats a corporation like an individual, and some corporations are teetering on the edge of financial ruin, why don't we just treat them like individuals?
We happen to have a couple of ways of dealing with some of the individuals who are in financial distress in our country.
For those in debt who want a "new start", we have Bankruptcy. For those who can't seem to make it on their own at the moment, we have Welfare.
So, for those who worry that Better Idea #1 smacks too strongly of Oh-Noes!-Teh-Socialism!!, I invite you to consider:
Better Idea #2 -- Bankruptcy:
This'll be easy! We even have a handy-dandy new bankruptcy law -- barely three years old! It's designed to help those in financial distress become more Responsible[tm] about how they handle their $$, and stop misusing the bankruptcy process! Doesn't that sound all warm and friendly and fiscally responsible and shit?
If we simply follow the 2005 law --
First, the troubled individual corporation will have to pass a means test, to be certain that they can qualify for a straight Chapter 7 bankruptcy. They will have to prove that they don't make more than the median income in their state.
What's that? You say that some of these corporations are incorporated in many (if not all) states? Oopsy! Well, let's just say that we take the average of all the corporations in all the states that they're incorporated in. That seems fair.
If they pass the median income test, they have to go to mandatory credit counseling, and then file Chapter 7, but any tax-debt, student-loan debt, fines incurred for violating the law, or debts incurred through fraud will have to be paid back. Properties that secured debts will have to be returned to the creditors.
If they don't pass the means test, they will have to file Chapter 13, and make monthly payments over a five-year period to repay their debt.
What's that? You say that the corporation itself doesn't have any money, because the CEOs and consultants and other high-level folks took all the money and are personally indemnified against the corporation's debt or mismanagement? Oopsy!
Whatever will we do with these naughty, naughty corporations? They can't pay a thing, poor dears, and they're penniless! Penniless, I tell you!
Well, I suppose that leaves us only:
Better Idea #3: Welfare
OK -- fine -- everybody makes mistakes. But don't worry, we're here to help -- of course, you'll need to do what everyone else who wants welfare has to do:
Depending on what state you're in, you can only have $1000-3000 worth of assets (including cash, checking/savings, stocks, bonds, IRAs, and 401ks). Since the corporation may be in many states, let's split the diff and say $2000 as an assets-cap. The corp can keep: (one) house, (one) car, a burial plot and up to $1500 in pre-paid funeral home accounts, and any assets that cannot be turned into cash. Maybe the CEOs can move in togther in the one house -- and they can car-pool.
Oops -- I forgot -- the CEOs are not the corporation, and they get to keep their houses, and cars, and yachts, and planes. And cash. And stocks. And bonds and IRAs and 401ks.
But on with this welfare thingy -- First, Mr. Corporation has to fill out an application, and wait. And wait. And wait.
What's that, Mr. Corporation? You're in trouble right now? Bummer. The wheels of bureaucracy turn slowly!
Well, now that I'm looking over your case-file, you might qualify for emergency food-stamps. (maximum benefit $155/month -- average $86/month). Maybe that'll help.
What's that? You're not feeling well, Mr. Corporation? Well, here's an application for medicaid. I'll warn you though -- it takes about 3 years for the approval. What? You're dying now? Bummer. The wheels of bureaucracy turn slowly!
Oh -- and just a reminder, Mr. Corporation -- *stern tone* --you have to report any change in your income to us immediately -- and if you don't, you may have to pay back any benefits that you may eventually qualify for. We may also schedule periodic home visits to check up on you.
What's that?
No, you don't get a five-year advance on your welfare checks . . . . No, not even a three-month advance . . . . . Well, Mr. Corporation, I hear that things are looking very grim for you right now, but . . . . yes, I understand that sir, and I've done all that I can do for you right now . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . lookit, Mr. Corporation!, nothing is going to be helped by you yelling at me! If you're approved, you'll get your check when everyone else gets their check, and I'll advise you to just go home now and I will get back to you if there's any change in your case!!!!!
(This dramatization brought to you by someone who has sat on both sides of the desk at the welfare office.)
So, I guess we're probably back to Better Idea #1, huh? Sounds more fun to me, anyway. ========== (Note for the hard-of-humor: Although I actually think that all of the ideas listed above would probably be better than those currently being considered by our government, I have no illusion that my suggestions will ever be taken seriously, and so, have not bothered to work out the actual practical details. If you try to take me to task for this in comments, I will laugh derisively at you as a humorless twit.)
(Note for the hard-of-math - ME: My original version was screwed -- it's $100/person, not $100 billion -- I suck at math, which is maybe why that $100 is looking really good to me right now.)
Recently, I've read a lot of posts from people who are very angry about the unregulated fat-cats who have been profiting obscenely from our financial system, and whose obscene profits have led to the current financial crisis in the USA.
They are pissed that rich people are whining because they might have to take their kids out of private school, or give up their private jet, or sell one of their eight or ten or twelve houses. They are rightly pissed, I think, when many of them are struggling to keep their only house, or their job, or the pension they worked 40+ years for.
I know that I feel mad when I think about massive corporate bail-outs. Someone suggested that all the CEOs of these "rescued" companies should have to go through the same legally-mandated credit-counseling that any individual considering Chapter 7 Bankruptcy must undergo -- I'd take this a step further, and require that any counseling sessions they attend be televised on C-Span (since it's taxpayer dollars which will cover their debt).
But . . . . . and . . . . .
It's kind of surprising to me sometimes that, when people who have been in the "have-more" class suddenly get to experience what it's like to be in the "have-less" class, they don't take a moment to consider . . . . .
There are people in the world -- many, many, many people in the world -- for whom the thought of even having a house, owned or not -- with actual walls and a roof that keeps the wind or rain out -- is a dream that seems so far away and distant that they may have never even considered it as a possibility -- people for whom the question is not "Will I need to adjust the way that I eat? Will I be able to afford healthful food for my family?", but rather "Will there be anything to eat at all?"
I have a friend who works as a personal assistant to someone whose net worth is over 10 million. My friend works for this person (by choice) on a contract basis -- my friend has no employer-paid health insurance, no other benefits at all -- just her hourly rate -- and she's carrying significant debt. She chooses to work for this person as she does for her own reasons, and recognizes this clearly as her own choice. However, she admits that it was sometimes difficult for her to deal with her employers complaints when said employer lost a million dollars last year (when my friend's net worth is hovering somewhere between minus-significant-something and her cash worth is a couple hundred bucks).
It's amazing to me, though, that even when this is difficult for her, she can say to me: "You know, it's all a matter of perspective. If I lost 10% of what I had, I'd probably be freaked out too -- but I try to always remember that I'm well-fed and well-housed and well-clothed. I'm rich."
As pissed as you might be at people who have more than you do when they may be whining about having to part with something you can barely imagine having, think for a moment how someone in the third-world might consider the fear that a lot of Americans are having about the possible loss of their home or their job (or even just necessary adjustments to their "lifestyle", like no more dinners out or a couple less lattes a week or maybe cutting cable-service from premium to standard) -- think about that for a minute.
Think about it and realize that, in some sense, for someone in this world -- you are the fat-cat.
Now, don't get all guilty about it -- just consider it for a minute, and look around at what you have.
If you're reading this, you have internet access -- and even if you went to the library to get internet access because you can't afford a computer at home -- you have a library to go to. Consider that the very fact that you can have the fear that you will lose something means that you have something to lose.
It's my personal belief that our entire "financial crisis" is a product of fear.
For the greedy, who may have clawed their way up the ladder of "success", perhaps it is the fear that they can never have enough which has driven them to lose all perspective about how their own welfare is tied up with the welfare of millions of other people -- people who make up the rungs of that ladder, and without whom, their wealth cannot exist.
For the working stiff, perhaps it is the fear that the rug can be pulled out from under them at any moment, or their rank fatigue at being stepped on by others as they ascend ever upward, which has led them to a place where they have hocked everything -- their ethics, values, and concern for their own real fulfillment -- in an attempt to climb up that ladder toward the greedy ones -- the greedy ones who they simultaneously despise, and aspire to emulate.
For the desperately poor, perhaps it is the simple, unadorned, and reasonable fear that, when the ladder collapses under the weight of all that fear, it will land squarely and most damagingly on them -- and there will be no food, no water, and no shelter for them.
Bank-runs and stock-market crashes are made of 100% pure, unadulterated, FEAR. Economic advisors may speak delicately about a lack of "confidence", but you and I both know that they're lying.
What they are talking about is a surfeit of fear.
Nearly everyone in this country has something to lose. Which means that we have something. Which means that somewhere, someone out there in the world could quite justifiably look at us (regardless of our relative station of power or status in this country) and think: "What the hell are they complaining about?"
Take that perspective with you, if you like, and if you want to do something -- if you want to stop being afraid -- look around you right now, and find something that you currently have that you aren't afraid of losing (even better -- something that you're completely and totally ready to have move along -- something that has stopped being a treasure to you and has simply become something that you have to "keep track of"), and give. it. the. fuck. away.
Preferrably to someone who would think of you as a fat-cat.
Because, after all, isn't that what you wish the fat-cats would do?
========================= *h/t to WomanistMusings, whose heads-up about Haitian people eating mudcakes laced with shortening and salt gave me a much-needed perspective check today.
