Wednesday, January 7, 2015
Mr. Norretranders shows that notion to be a fallacy. More is different. He explains in his wonderful book The User Illusion how life evolved from the simple to the complex. And it evolved thusly from repetition. Specifically from the repetition of the same thing over and over and over again.
In a different context, consider the idea of splitting a slab of marble. The marble could conceivably take ninety-nine blows from a hammer and not split in the least. And yet that hundredth blow might split the slab from top to bottom. More is different.
The notion of banging your head against the wall. Conventional wisdom would say to stop. Find a way around the wall. 'More is different' would say, 'Keep banging. One more knock might knock the damn thing down.'
From my personal experience I can report that there is definitely something to seemingly irrational persistence. I used to be lousy at a lot of stuff and just pigheadedly stayed after it until I became pretty darn good at it. Oh, I haven't pursued everything that way—I gave up on playing the guitar in a hurry ('put your fingers here on the neck and then shift them onto an entirely different position' What!!). But most stuff I've stuck with.
My favorite saying in life is: ruthless striving overcomes everything.
I remember the story by Kate Chopin called "The Awakening" and the line: "I have overcome everything!"
Overcoming is how my life has worked. It's like that pounding on the marble, day after day, year after year, decade after decade. There really haven't been any sensational breakthroughs, no clearly demarcated lines of achievement crossed. But there have been many soul-satisfying moments of, Hey, I can do this thing now. This thing that has baffled, demoralized, intimidated, exhausted me for so long has been overcome.
No great intelligence, no superior genes or talent. Just simple ruthless repetitive striving.
More is different.
Saturday, January 3, 2015
We're living on the verge of different worlds. Sure, it doesn't seem like it. It's the same old world, day after day. But think about it. A car accident. A winning lottery ticket. A bad diagnosis at your annual check-up. One moment, flash, and your life is forever altered. It's like entering a different world.
It doesn't have to be big things, either. A smile can save a life. There's a documentary called "The Bridge." A 24/7 camera was set up and it recorded all the suicides and suicide attempts of those who jumped from the Golden Gate bridge. One of the jumpers said (on the long walk that led to the bridge): "If one person would've smiled at me, I wouldn't have jumped."
You're down. You're suicidal. Someone smiles at you and you want to live. You're thrust into a different world.
Homeostasis, Freud called it. The tendency toward a relatively stable equilibrium between interdependent elements. That's what we as human beings instinctively shoot for, the great Viennese psychiatrist postulated. And yet, how one tick of the clock can upset that process.
Even for a nation. Think of the impact of 911.
Stability is over-rated. Nassim Nicholas Taleb wrote a book called Black Swan (not the movie of the same name). A black swan is an event that comes as a surprise, has a powerful impact in our lives. It's something we "didn't see coming."
We think we know so much. We think we can predict so well. We can't.
Better to be uncertain, to live in a healthy doubt. I like the saying, "There is only hope for you to the degree that you are unsettled."
Life thusly accurately prepares you for those other worlds that are lurking just a blink away from the one you're living in.
Thursday, January 1, 2015
Ever think maybe it's time to give up? In a positive way, that is.
It's counter-intuitive. Big time. And it's nuanced, as well. As the saying goes—it's like "not giving a crap with a positive attitude."
Giving up only makes sense, though, if you feel there's something that will take over to help you when you do.
From Sting's song "Invisible Sun":
There has to be an invisible sun. It gives its heat to everyone. There has to be an invisible sun. That gives us hope when the whole day's done.
I'm not into wasting my time believing something that's not true. But I am thoroughly convinced that something knows better than I do about the best way for me to live.
The few times I do manage to give up and go with that something I have been led. And into places far better than I was headed on my own.
It's a challenge. It's hard giving up control. But it's worth it—and it's such a relief.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
I couldn't be my image any more. I was just the mess. So I wasn't out there getting a big job and hauling in the big bucks. I wasn't going to be winning any fancy awards. I didn't have what it took to be a hero. About all I knew at that point in my life was that I was hosed, and I couldn't see any way out of it.
Then I discovered a single bit of information that changed my life.
Somebody told me that if I couldn't do all the high-falutin' things I wanted to do, I should just do what I could. Seems so obvious but it was revolutionary to me.
So if I couldn't get that big job, I could still do the best I could at my crappy little job. If I couldn't be a superstar, I could at least say a kind word to the mailman or smile at an old man waiting for the bus. Everything counted. Even if it was just effort and not results. I started counting days that only had one line in my journal—"Tried hard and failed."—as successes.
Doing what I can has been my motto ever since. It's freeing. It works. Don't worry about what you can't do (and feel you should be able to). Just do what you can.
Sunday, December 28, 2014
If stars appeared only one night every thousand years, how we would marvel and adore them. —Ralph Waldo Emerson
Life is magical. We're given such a gift and yet 99% of our lives we don't appreciate it. To be born. To live. To experience this earth. Its joys. Its sorrow. Its majesty and squalor. It's all a gift, a magnificent gift. Yet we don't see it.
Perhaps some people see it when they near the end of their lives (or if the end is thrust upon them). Then suddenly they have a keen appreciation of life, of how very precious and magical it is. Otherwise, it's hurry hurry hurry. Hamsters on a hamster wheel.
Sometimes I think about life in terms of technology. Everything man-made requires a power source. It needs to be plugged in or needs a battery. And yet, we don't. We walk around untethered. Yes, life is magical. Want proof there's a God?
Think about your life. Life is God manifested.
And the Emerson quote. How utterly true is that?
I think of people who fly on airplanes. So many of them pull the window shade and play video games on their phones or watch a movie. I wonder what Gallileo or DaVinci or Isaac Newton would've given to go up in a jet, soaring above the clouds, the mountains. They would've been breathless with excitement, with sheer wonder.
And we can be too. If we slow down enough to appreciate this wonderful, magical thing we are so privileged to experience, this thing called life.
Saturday, December 27, 2014
Okay, but that includes beheadings, tsunamis etc. So could it be that God is in control of those things too?
I heard a sermon by that old-time English preacher Charles Spurgeon. He preached on God's sovereignty. That God is indeed in control of everything. He gave an example of how he was scheduled to preach in a big auditorium on a day when the snow was wet and heavy and falling fast. The auditorium was packed with thousands of people. The church service went off without a hitch. Then shortly after the crowd had left, only a few ushers lingering, the roof collapsed from the weight of the snow.
Spurgeon said it was God's sovereignty that accounted for the miraculous timing that spared thousands of lives and only two ushers were injured, both with broken legs.
Okay, I was hanging with that seeming like a good thing, but then I started thinking, What if you're one of the ushers with a broken leg? How do you look at God's sovereignty from that perspective? Like the guys with the broken legs were thinking, Gee, God spared all those people from getting injured, couldn't he have waited a little bit longer till I got out of here?
I'm listening to this book by Cherie Hill called When You Need A Miracle. Cherie's very first line is:
You are exactly where God wants you to be.
I have tell you when I heard that, I was terribly comforted. But then the more I thought about it (I am not in a great place), I thought, Really? And then, Why?
There's no easy answers to this one. For me personally, I want to believe that God's in control. I'd like to believe it's so. I'm just not so sure it is.
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
Everybody wants fairness. You see it everywhere. People will endure all kinds of problems uncomplainingly but when something happens that violates their sense of fairness they explode. "That's unfair!" And they'll go to the ends of the earth to pursue getting justice as "a matter of principle."
So just like when your favorite basketball player sinks a game-winning shot at the buzzer and you jump up and throw your arms in the air, you also recoil when something is unfair. It's just hard wired into us.
So is there fairness? Is there justice in the world?
Yes. Only it's often not very apparent. Justice according to what standard? That's a key question. For many people the standard is worldly success—a beautiful spouse, children, wealth. That's as legitimate a standard as any, but it doesn't reflect justice in a deeper sense.
Justice in a deeper sense involves deeper things. Things like integrity to others and one's self. Like how you feel about how you've lived your life. It's about love and respect.
In that deeper sense there's perfect justice in the world. We may not all be equal but in one fundamental aspect we're all the same—we start out in life a certain way and we develop by how we live until we end up who we are. In that sense, justice is in our own hands. How have I lived? Have I done my best? Have I loved? Contributed to the world?
When you get done answering questions like that, you will see that where you're at in your life is perfectly just.