Know the Trick: The Trick is to Know.

Yes, I've not been posting for a while.  I could try to formulate an excuse for this that could not be reasonably rejected by any one of my readers, but I won't waste either of our precious time.  I got lazy, I had to take time off to rest a slightly defective ankle, and I started working.

Yes, that's right!  You did not misread the above line, I started a job.  I won't name names, or pay-rates.  Suffice it to say that I secured a retail job that I don't really like, but am comfortable with because it is temporary, uninvolved, and non-committal.  Those aspects come into play come January, because I will be re-assuming my old position at the University.  Yes, this is a good thing.  I will have said position until May, when I plan to graduate with my M.A. in Philosophy.  This brings me to my next point.

I have certain places on the internet that I value for their ability to give me valuable knowledge on a regular basis.  One site tells me how a grown man ought to dress, another tells me who's publishing which papers on what philosophical topics, and another tells me what the people I know are up to.  The list goes on, but I won't bother publishing any more of my increasingly geeky trail of links.  But there is one particular site that I perused today for the first time in a while, which really spoke to my recent productivity downturn (I'd link that phrase to a demonstration of said downturn, but you can't link to a lack of blog posts, know what I mean?).  The site is owned and operated by one Merlin Mann, not to be confused with Manfred Mann.  It's called 43folders.com (type in the address yourself, I'm tired of linking), and it's all about productivity and what's called "knowledge work".  Now, I read this post today, and it changed my way of looking at things.  If you have time, watch the video.  If you have less time, watch the first 8 minutes or so, you'll get inspired enough.  So what does this have to do with getting my M.A. in Philosophy? (Thought I forgot, didn't you?)  Well, in case you didn't stop reading my blog to watch the video on the last link, the subject of the video is a little secret about how to be productive.  The key is to not forget who you are. 

I'll try to simplify as much as I can.  Productivity is what we in the philosophical field call a "teleological" concept.  It only has meaning so far as it is attached to a thinker (and in this case, a thinker who acts on thoughts) and a goal.  No one is just "productive" full stop.  A person is productive with regards to a certain goal.  This goal is largely a product of, or may very well define who you are.  Answer the following question: What do you do?  The answer will most likely be a description of your profession or desired profession that you are trying to break into.  I am a philosopher, that would be my answer.  So, I am productive if I do the things that I set out for myself philosophically speaking.  I have articles to read, papers to write, comprehensive exams for which to study.  My being productive comes from knowing what I have to know, knowing what I have to do, and doing what I have to do.  My NOT being productive happens when I forget that I am supposed to be doing philosophy.  I can attest to this.  I find myself on all sorts of internet oddysseys  in which I am learning all sorts of facts that it was not my goal to learn, and in which I have no interest.  Then I lose track of where I was when I was on task (if I was on task at all), and I am not productive.

This is not to say that you always have to be doing work that contributes to your life's work.  Well......actually, let me rephrase that.  You will find that as you start working more--I mean "heads down", 90 words-per-minute type work--you will find that taking breaks and having fun and free time is actually a vital part of your work.  My work is largely based on theoretical frameworks, fleshing out arguments, cross-referencing, use of analogies, and so on.  Long spans of time doing that work can make innovation and creativity slower to come.  I have found that I am most productive when I can get up, do something else for a bit, and get back to work.  But here's the catch; I have to fully participate in that break (whatever the task is). If I am talking to my lady, I have to only talk to her, not think about one of my argument's sub-arguments or try to remember why Scanlon takes reasons as primitive (it's roughly the same as resemblance nominalists taking similarity as primitive, don't worry!).  This way, when I come back to the laptop and the books, I am fresh, and I don't resent my work for taking my attention away from the other things I choose to do.  Much like the Offspring wisely said; "You gotta keep 'em separated".

So what should you take away from all this sludge?  Know who you are, and do the things that you need to do.  Don't forget that, and you'll be fine.  It's simple.  But as I believe I've said before, simple does not mean easy.  I must also apply this to running.  I am a philosopher, yes, but I am also a man training to run a marathon.  So I need to focus on running when I'm running, and make progress when I must.  In that vein, it's been tough.  I did something to my ankle, and though I did 5 miles Monday and 4 and some change today, it's still keeping me from pushing hard.  I'll accept that, it comes with the territory.  But when I can push, I'll be doing just that.

Onward!

(This post is dedicated to KJ.  He left this world too soon, for he wasn't done changing it yet.  You are in my prayers, buddy.)

Onward and Upward

Yes, it has been quite a while since I posted on this blog.  You've got me, I have been trippin'.  But the lack of posting is not due to a lack of happenings.  In fact, were there actually a lack of happenings, there would be more posting, as that seems to be just how it goes for me.  But several things have been happening all at once, sapping my time, energy, and attention, but pushing me further along in my quest to be a full-fledged, bona fide grown up.  Here's a quick bullet point list of what's been happening (in absolutely no particular order aside from my stream of consciousness):

• Erin and I received financial approval for a home loan, searched through hundreds of houses in our area, looked at close to 20+ houses, and put in an offer on one--which was accepted just last Friday.
• I went on around 4 job interviews which ate up a considerable amount of time (and neckties)
• I spent an exorbitant amount of time, gas, calories, and verbal energy taking care of a small personal matter that has been burdening me for the last 3 years, finally closing a chapter in my life that I am glad to leave behind.
• I received the gift of phenomenal new shoes, moisture-wicking cold-weather wear, and awesome gloves, to help me run straight through the notoriously feisty Midwestern winter.
  
• I ran....a lot.  In the past 3 weeks, I have made big Monday runs of 6, 7, and 8 miles respectively.  I have also ratcheted up the mileage on my smaller runs, going from two-three 5Ks per week to three 5-mile runs on Wed-Fri each week.  My grand total last week: 22 miles.
• I've been hanging with my folks quite a bit.  My family means more to me now that it probably ever has before.  And it is funny that this is the case, as I have officially made my living away from my parents a permanent situation.  But I am glad that I am now in contact with my family (and my future family) more these days, because it reaffirms the theme that has been present in my life for the past year and half: constant progress.
• I've been doing some heavy academic work.  I'm starting to get used to Philosophy being a large part of my life again.  It has been a while, and I still find myself weirded out by the presence of this fickle mistress, but I'm glad to have her back (so long as my #1 lady doesn't get jealous).

I think that about sums it up.  Now, these may be bullets, but they are surely not being fired out of an excuse gun.  Indeed, I did fail to post as I intended to when I began this blog, but I did not fail to uphold the important end of the bargain; I was gettin' shit done!  So long as I keep running, keep working, keep loving, keep my head up, and keep my promises, I can rest at night feeling that I've done what I can.  I can't deny that it would be nice to have a regular record of my days, thoughts, projects, progress, and intentions, but that has to take a back seat to the days, thoughts, projects, progress, and intentions themselves.  It's all good and fine to update a blog everyday, but if it's at the expense of doing what you need to do to make your life and the lives of others better, you might just want to re-prioritize.

No Matter What

If there's one thing that is the most important element of this whole operation, the glue that is holding this all together, it's staying positive.  That's what's gotten me through the past year and some change, and what will get me from here today to the finish line (am I still talking about the marathon, or about life?).  But sometimes I forget it, and I have to either be reminded, or remind myself.  But I think it's appropriate here to tell the story of just how this all got rolling, and became the centerpiece of my life.  Away we go....

In late 2006, I had developed a bad habit.  I had graduated from college the year before, and entered graduate school with the goal of obtaining my Ph.D within 6 years.  I was driven, I was determined, I was....burning out.  I was in a hopelessly unhealthy relationship, I had become nearly a hermit, and I had no balance in my life.  I spent days in a haze of walking and studying, theorizing and worrying.  I spent nights arguing and/or sleeping in chairs next to hospital beds.  I never allowed myself to find the middle-ground.  Through it all, I carried around a stash of pills to get me through.  I had white ones, blue ones, green ones, pink ones, circular ones, oval ones, uppers and downers.  Simply put, I had become hooked on painkillers and benzodiazepines (look 'em up, you'll recognize a few names).  After continuing the addiction to various degrees of severity, I was ordered into inpatient treatment in May of 2008.  By that time, I had stopped attending classes with any regularity and was barely doing the day-to-day tasks.  My grades fell drastically and I was dismissed from the graduate school via a letter delivered to me in rehab in July. 


I spent three months in rehab, meeting and then befriending people from all walks of life.  I med federal criminals, dealers, fathers, mothers, members and higher-ups of nearly every gang in and out of Chicago, and even a few people just like me.  Actually, they were all just like me, they were addicts.  They we addicts and alcoholics.  They had come to the end of their rope (at least that particular rope) and were thrown in with everyone else like them to try to pick up the pieces for 90 days.  


When I first got into the facility, I was unsure of how I would go about living there and what would happen afterward.  But within the first day, I heard a counselor--a recovering crack addict with 30 years of addiction and 10 years of recovery under his belt--give a speech about being open-minded, about giving this (rehab) a chance in order to give yourself a chance.  For whatever reason, I decided that day to stop being jaded, cynical, and drop the hubris that I had about handling my life.  I decided that I needed help, and that I'd get it in treatment.


The 90 days went by more quickly than I ever thought they would.  I left as the summer was winding down, in August of 2008.  My 6 year relationship was ending, my parents had come to pick me (a now 25-year-old man-child) up, and I was entering a halfway house to make my transition back into sober living.  While at the halfway house, I met some great people--people who had been all but given up on, and were trying to find the strength to make a life for themselves.  I found that even when things were going badly for them, they'd still be there to help anyone who was dealing with addiction and it's accompanying demons.  Every day, as we gathered to pray (in the non-specific, personal way) in the morning, I gained inspiration and wisdom.  Sometimes I wondered how I'd gotten to a place where I felt real, genuine peace.  I realized that through it all, though there were tough times, I stayed positive about what I was trying to do.  I smiled, I breathed, and I kept moving forward.  


So it was fitting that one day, at the job I had managed to get while at the halfway house, I found a rubber band that fit nicely around my wrist.  Many people in the recovery community wore rubber bands, to remind themselves to keep going, to snap when they got a craving, or whatever would help them.  I figured that since I often learn visually, I'd write something on the rubber band to remind myself of what I had to do to make it.  I took a sharpie from under the counter and wrote "PMA" all around it in fat, black letters.  PMA stands for Positive Mental Attitude.  It's a concept that's been around for a while, and I learned of it through my affinity for hardcore punk, and the band "Bad Brains", which had used the phrase many times in their songs.  I figured that of all the things that people had told me about my progress and my good qualities, they referred to my being positive and genuine.  So if I had to attribute my new way of life to anything, it would be to staying positive, no matter what.


Today, I still wear a PMA bracelet.  I have made two of them for others; one for the woman that I plan to spend my life with, and the other to Hakeem, a man I met in the halfway house who taught me the value of hard work and optimism.  Wherever you are, Hakeem, I hope that you're still sober and you still qualify (he'd know what it means).  I have gone through many rubber bands myself, due to stretching, breaking, and fading, but I always make sure to keep one on.  Now more than ever, I have made it a point to stay positive--to do and say things that reflect an attitude of openness, willingness, and honesty, and to give all that I can to whatever I choose to do.  So when I wake up, stretch, and step out the door to run, I do it until I finish, running through any shit that my body wants to give me.  I'd like to say that I have been doing the same with my life in general, but it is not so.  I've been reflecting too much on the repercussions of my past bad decisions, and of the difficulty of the career and life goals that I have set for myself, but I've been failing to give my all and stay positive about what I can do.  So today, while I sat in an office at an employment agency, hoping to get some sort of job to put my head above water, and allow my lady to stop having to worry about money, I got to worrying.  I thought: "what if I can't get over my scholastic and legal indiscretions, and I can't do my life's work?  What if I don't get a fair shake based on my past?"  I almost got overwhelmed yet again, but I quickly caught on to what my mind was doing, and thought: "well, what if I just sit around and worry instead of stop pretending to know the future and put all my effort and passion where it belongs?"  I decided that the latter question was more worth asking.  


I left the office determined, and positive.  There will always be hardships on the path I have chosen, but the only way I can be defeated is if I give up.  Knowing this, I can rest each day, knowing that I have put my all into what I am doing, and that I don't live in the future, I live now.  After all, I can only do what I can do in this moment, that is all I have right now.  I'm pretty sure that I can handle that.


If you've read this far, thanks for doing so, and stay positive.


P.S.  I ran 5k yesterday, although I don't normally run on Thursdays.  I also ran this morning, another 5k.  I beat my time by nearly 30 seconds, brining my time up to 27:29.  The total mileage for this week is 14 miles.  I hope to rack up some more next week, starting with 6 miles on Monday.  Here's hoping!

A Cure for the Mondays?

Apparently, since the dawn of the workweek, employed humanity has been grappling with a weekly 24-hour bug called "the Mondays".  Symptoms include grogginess, heavy eyelids, general malaise, soreness, stiffness, inclination to buy lunch at a drive-thru, and increased caffeine consumption.  The cause for this disease seems to be the awareness that from around 7 am on Mondays, there are around 120 more hours of workweek to get through.  This has been hypothesized to cause a reaction in the body which makes it harder to wake from sleep, harder to perform basic tasks, and an absence of familiar work ethic and motivation.  I have had this virus many times, and have never been able to find a cure for it.  Perhaps I was looking in the wrong place, and I needed to be in a different paradigm to find the answer (at least my answer for my particular strain of the Mondays).  Currently, I am not employed, but have spent the past few weeks on various interviews, and also attending my graduate class.  So, while my weeks have not been exactly like those of one who works, I do wake at 7 am each morning, prepare a bagged lunch, breakfast, coffee, and clean errant dishes and such--all before 8 am.  So while I don't go to work after that, I am more than prepared to do so.  All that aside, I may have found the way to break the chain of downtroddenness.

I will be bold and say that, perhaps if I start the day with something exciting, something inspiring, something positive on Monday, I will break the virus before it takes hold.  You see, since I began this running venture, I have learned from various sources that of the 3-5 times that a person runs each weak, one of those sessions should be the "big run".  The Big Run is the session where you push past the last week's limit.  So since last week, I ran 4 miles on the Big Run, this week's big run will be...5 miles.  Now, when a runner does his or her Big Run is up to that runner and his or her schedule and preferences.  Since I don't run on the weekends, I am fully rested and recovered by Monday.  Thus, it makes sense to push myself on Monday.  I have been doing this for the past 3 weeks, if I remember correctly.  So, as I lumbered up the stairs to my apartment, sweaty and breathing heavily (ladies, restrain yourself), I realized that I like Mondays.  Every day that I push myself to the limit, and accomplish something that I'm proud of, it makes that day much better.  So if I save the Big Run for Monday, I can start off the morning with a bang, and cruise into Tuesday high from the fumes of victory and the soreness that comes with pushing your body further than before.  I dare any of the drugs that I may or may not have tried to beat that!

The only problem with this plan is that once I get to being able to run 10 miles, there won't be anything to push past on a weekly basis.  I will have to run more than 10 miles at some points, but not on a regular basis. Perhaps I will have to settle for doing more speedwork on Mondays, and basking in the knowledge that I have bested my last time for a given distance.  Also, it's getting to be a bit colder outside, and I lack gear to deal with that.  Sure, I have a raggedy hoodie and I have a few hats, but that exhausts my cold weather workout gear.  My only options will be to save money once I am employed and find some clearance workout, moisture-wicking gear, or find a gym to join that has an indoor track.  But those worries need not hold me back now.  For now, I've got the cure for the Mondays, while supplies last.

Today's tally: Unfortunately, I miscalculated and ran just shy of 5 miles, clocking in at about 44:30, with no stops (save for a car at an intersection once).  I'm counting it as 5 miles, since I could've gone longer.  This will make next Monday's goal 6 miles, which will bring me into near-10k territory.  I might scale back a bit, and stick to just under 6 miles, so that I can just plain do 10k the week after next, but we'll see how the variables play out.

If it Is Broke

There are some days in which I come to a realization, have an epiphany or sorts, if you will.  The formula for these days is usually the same.  The day begins uneventfully.  I crawl out of bed as Erin is getting ready for work, I make her lunch, make some coffee, make breakfast, and read the day's news.  But after all that, after the burned, old coffee is poured down the sink, something happens that changes the tone of the day.  Many times, I am moved by something I read on the internet or hear on one of the many NPR programs to which I listen daily.  But sometimes, I am forced, by some adversity, to change my way of thinking or behaving right on the spot.  Just such a forcing happened yesterday afternoon.

I have class at NIU on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 2pm.  Given that it takes about 45 minutes to get there from my home, and I usually need to find parking on the street to avoid paying, I leave at around noon.  This day in particular, I had to get a book I had put on hold at the library, one that I need for class and was hoping to have before class met.  I made it to within about 5 miles of the campus when my car, the old beast, started running in a rough, but familiar way.  I had experienced my share of flat tires on various cars in my time, and I knew that that's exactly what I'd see when I pulled over and examined the front passenger's side tire.  I didn't hit anything (that I felt or saw, anyway), and I didn't hear a blowout.  But there my tire was, staring at me like an unenthusiastic child at a birthday party, who just can't bring himself to get excited about the ball pit.  This is a hurdle, yes, but it was one that could be jumped.  However, this happened at about 1:10 pm, which left me 40 minutes to change the tire and find a place to park.  That was, if I decided to forget about the fact that I could not drive the 40 or so miles of country road on a spare.  This tire being on the tall-grass and gravel filled shoulder of a country road also appeared to make placing a jack under my car quite difficult. 

Now, had this happened to me a mere year and a half ago, even while I was living right near campus, I would have thrown in the towel on class and lamented for a while before doing anything productive.  But, almost as if I knew the bigger stakes of this battle, I jumped into a different mode.  I thought to myself: at the very least, I cannot handle this how I would have handled it before.  I have just skated by on the least amount of effort for a large portion of my life.  I am not living like that anymore.  I have the jack, the spare, the tire iron, and I'm not far from campus.  More than anything, I just need to get to class.  If I can show myself that I'm serious about my life's work, especially at this early stage of it, that will kick me into high-gear.  Realizing this, I pried the spare tire, jack, and iron from my trunk, and got to work.  The car was on uneven ground, gravel, sloping downward, and I wasn't even sure that I could get the jack to actually lift the car enough to change the tire without the jack slipping out from under.  Having totally unjustified faith, and some kind of determination, I jacked the car up, unscrewed the rusty bolts on the wheel, and drove 5 sweaty, black grease-handed miles to the repair shop.  I made it to the hall where my class is in just enough time to wash most of the grime off my hands and wipe the sweat off my face in the academic building's bathroom.

I walked into class a little tired and uncomfortable, hoping for the best.  Within 5 minutes, I was fully absorbed in the class, having forgotten pretty much all the struggle it took to deal with that tire.  After class, I went to the library and got the book I had been waiting for.  We didn't even get to the chapter from that book in class, go me.  So what did this prove to me?  Well, just like the most pleasurable of moments, the grueling, arduous moments of a difficult task pass after a short time.  So if I can count on that, and stick to it (whatever it may be), I will feel much better in the end, and get the fuel to keep going.  I'm not going to be so bold as to claim that if I hadn't pushed myself to run further and longer yesterday morning, I wouldn't have had the perseverance to get to class as I did.  I'm just going to say that perhaps in learning to push myself and stay focused something simple, I am also learning to push myself and stay focused in the bigger things.  Today is an off day.  I plan to get a little work done, and make some homemade chocolate chip cookies as well, prepared for any culinary flat tires that may come up along the way.

Pancakes and Small Failures

I used to be afraid of failing, even of failing a small task.  I would get myself so worked up about what I would do if I didn't accomplish exactly what I set out to, if things didn't turn out how I wanted them to.  But in most cases, I would end up worrying so much about failure, that I would quit before I was able to fail.  Perhaps in the back of my mind, I knew that if I were to just never follow through, I wouldn't have to feel the pain that I was so afraid of.  The ironic thing about that is that at the same time I was so afraid of any kind of pain, I was talking to people about how I was a buddhist, and relaying the Zen messages I was reading at the time.  Buddhism is a set of teachings that advocates the acceptance of pain and struggle as necessary parts of life, but seeks to minimize how devastating that suffering is by highlighting ways that people can make peace with it.  So here I was, preaching about a philosophy of acceptance and making peace, while I would neither accept or make peace with my own life.

These days, I have had to deal with failure as a background of my life.  This is not a negative thing, not at all.  I found out that while I was busy ditching all the life projects that I undertook, the world remembered that I started and left them, and brought them back for me to face them.  I was academically dismissed from graduate school in May of 2008, after a long trip down substance abuse lane, into manic depression-ville.  I could have, should have tried to alert someone who could help in the academic realm, but I chose to just stop caring and leave.  Now, I have to take 3 or more graduate classes, when I need only one class to get my M.A., and I need to ace all three of those classes in order to get above academic probation level.  Will it be hard?  No doubt.  Will I want to give up?  If I know myself and how I think whilst under pressure, absolutely.  But the difference between 18 months ago and now is that I am no longer so focused on failure that I refuse to put my full effort into it.  Sure, I am afraid of failure, I would be insane not to be.  However, I can be afraid of failing but use that fear to motivate me to lay down a plan and follow it, thus hopefully avoiding failure.  But if I do put myself all in, and still don't come away on top, I can deal with that, because I have already.  

This morning, I tried to make pancakes.  Now the last time I made pancakes, they were not bad, but i added too much salt, and Erin said they were kind of gross.  The recipe I had was for one person, so I needed to multiply the ingredients to make enough for Erin and I.  I figured that it would be a simple enough task, so I just started multiplying and mixing.  I didn't exactly follow the recipe, and....it showed.  The pancakes were horrible.  I couldn't tell you specifically what was wrong with them, but both Erin's face as she attempted to eat them, and the odd looking flapjack now oozing around the pan told enough of the story to close the case.  Pancakes are supposed to flap, and these flopped.  I was angry at first, knowing that only a foolish woman would let a man attempt to make hotcakes for a third time after almost killing her with the first two attempts.  But I remembered, as I took out the trash bag full of past meals and this morning's monstrosity, an old saying I once heard that was attributed to the Dalai Lama: "when you lose, don't lose the lesson".  I may have failed, but there was a lesson there, were I willing to learn it: at least when it comes to the pancakes, stick to the recipe.

There is a broader lesson, though, and it applies to the main goal toward which I am working here.  Like with the pancakes, I am treading unfamiliar ground in training for a marathon.  There is a plan laid out for me, and all I have to do is put away my expectations and worries, and follow it.  When I think about it this way, all I have to do is run, the rest is already taken care of.  That's so comfortingly simple.  But really, that's all you ever have to do.  Make a plan, do what the plan says, when it says you should, and don't worry about the rest.  I guess if anything, today reminded me of what can happen when you don't follow the plan; flopjacks, or as they're more colloquially known "notcakes".