Life as an Extreme Sport

Category: life and living

Not so much the daily grind, as the things that fall outside the scope of academics.

sometimes the hardest thing to do is practice on yourself

Academics, Bioethics, blog as therapy, Buddhism

I wrote this a few weeks ago, and in a tricksy move to make sure no one could know what I was referring to without talking to me, I held on to it to post at a later time. Ooo, tricksy.

More seriously, the number of people who read this, at least occasionally, has lead me to conclude that while I can still talk about whatever I want, with common discretion, it might not be a bad idea to blur the lines on continuity just a bit – at least in some circumstances.

Today has been a serious day for practicing loving kindness and compassion.

It’s either that, or burn bridges in a spectacular flame out that I would regret almost instantly.

The problem is, it’s easy to get stuck in circles of irritation, when I’m essentially by myself all day, and the contact I do have with other people is short/perfunctionary. A conversation I had with Stax earlier is a good example of this; by myself, I was just getting more and more irritated (and thank god I didn’t receive certain email at that time, because I swear I would have done/said something I would have regretted, rather than the more patient filing of the mail and not responding). But having to explain a more detailed and balanced picture to her returned me to a better center, where I could see the picture larger than myself and relax again.

Unfortunately, I’ve been alone with myself since then, and had plenty of time to narrow my gaze once more. I know that I’m doing this, and I am attempting to breathe and retain focus and perspective, but it can be hard. It becomes so easy to just think about our self as individual, and elevate our own issues and priorities above the rest. To always think of how you are engaged with others in the world is not an easy task – it requires a sort of self-sacrifice that opens up a vulnerability. Because to do this, you have to trust that those you are opening up to have also opted to open up, that it is not a single sided exchange, but mutual and respectful.

Which is not, of course, to say that the practice of loving kindness and compassion should only be generated to those who will give it to you in return. But there is a hardening that I haven’t yet gotten over, to practice loving kindness without self-sacrificing vulnerability. What I generate and give differs, and it is much better, more intimate and true, if I allow the vulnerability to be there. If I assume that it is returned.

But that vulnerability, tied to imperfection, can lead to taking offense when there is none, to expectations, to a host of problems where the kneejerk reaction is to lash out, push away, protect, destroy.

What does it say, I wonder, that it is such a human impulse to push and destroy rather than be intimate?

ASBH, wrapped

Academics, AMBI, ASBH 2007, Bioethics, life and living

I’m still in DC, sitting in the hotel lobby, wishing it was at all possible to simply snap my fingers, find a transporter, and end up at home, in bed, with the cats. I’d settle for a second best of in my hotel room bed, but they wanted the room so I had to check out. Bother.

I’m beyond tired, of course, although I didn’t have the as many days “on” as I was expecting. The hotel nicely arranged for me to have a good chunk – about seven hours – of Saturday off, courtesy food poisoning that afflicted everyone who drank from the creamer provided on our end of the table. Since I tend to take my coffee half cream, half milk, it was… unpleasant, to say the least. And of course, I did come back out as soon as I could, and went back to working. Because I am either ambitious or dumb like that – most likely some from column A, some from column B.

But it was a good conference, my glow cubes were an unmitigated success, and it was gratifying to hear, over and over, “oh hey, you’re Kelly….”

started up again almost 12 hours later, at home, as I am lectured by two upset cats
As I was writing, I got a variation of the “hey, you’re Kelly” and was joined in the lobby by an undergraduate student who “belongs” to a friend of mine. I ended up spending the next five-ish hours talking to her; we were joined, at one point, by a doctoral student up in Montreal I had met earlier in the day. The two have similar interests, so I played the networking game.

I’ve been doing quite a bit of reading and thinking since I started the above, and I’m not really sure what I think at the moment. I mean, I am – the conference was a success, I don’t think I screwed up badly in any political sense, and so forth. It’s just, as I was telling Michael when we spoke briefly earlier, that post-conference is a lot like post-teaching, in that the adrenaline drops out of your body and you realize how much of yourself you spent. It’s post-teaching blues magnified beyond belief. Only it’s also got an element of post-acting in it, too. When you’re in a production, you’re thrilled and delighted, and spend every second of the day with a small group of people – and the minute you close curtain and strike the set that final night, and walk out of the after party, how much you loathe every single person you just spent the last 6 weeks of your life with. Every quirk is an annoyance, every personality quirk a flaw. You hate them all, all the people you see and spend hours with daily, and never want to see them again – for about a week.

😉

The rest is still a jumble, I think, of things I need to process. It has been hard to not reflect on the last year of life, and the differences – it’s such a clear way to mark both time and change.

may you continue dancing, somewhere

life and living

The fabulous and glamourous Deborah Kerr has died, something I mention only because, personally, she’s one of those iconic images and memories that has had a lasting influence on me. Her roll in The King and I is always in the back of my mind whenever I step in front of a classroom to teach — the elegant, graceful teacher who delights in her students as much as they delight in her. (And, of course, her dancing with Yul Brynner.)

I’ve talked before on the things that have motivated me to become an academic, and it’s only been recently I’ve realized I have a several of these lingering images in my mind of what it seems like an academic should be. And while somewhat gawky and definitely uncoordinated me will never have Kerr’s grace (nor do I anticipate dancing with anyone I work with any time soon), I certainly have that sense of wondering delight when I have the opportunity to teach.

My mentor and advisor at the University of Washington, Phillip Thurtle, once told me that some people learn best by teaching others (and I was one of those people). And it’s true — it’s one thing to read and write and even talk casually about something with colleagues, but it’s another to see it reflected through and back in the eyes of those you teach it to. There is a magic and wonder to it that’s hard to describe, but all the folks I think of as excellent teachers seem to immediately know what I mean.

The BBC obit mentions another charming quirk of Kerr’s that I have apparently also either picked up, or simply think similarly on — I have that tendency to downplay success in favour of granting an awful lot of luck.

What we internalize unconsciously is truly a fascinating thing.

bad day

life and living

Friday wanted to be a bad day, but my sense of responsibility forced me to work. Today got revenge, though – I think overall stress has just caught up to me. So I’ve stayed in my flannels, in bed, cuddling my cats. I just got around to eating – and warmed up some of the chicken noodle soup I was sent. Chicken noodle and matzoh ball!

What is it about this particular combination that makes it such comfort food? I wasn’t raised Jewish, had no Jewish friends when growing up, and yet… it’s the perfect comfort food.

So I’ll stay in bed, read, maybe watch TV, relax, and start over again tomorrow. With a belly full of warm soup, and a heart overflowing with love.

see? damned universe

life and living

The minute I start feeling sorry for myself, a friend steps up out of the blue with a charming, quirky, and completely unexpected gift – and I get awesome, amazing news about my sister – who was accepted to her first choice of medical school!

Yeah, I’m moody and melancholy, and I feel very alienated from a lot right now, and that’s not likely to get better any time soon. But there’s still good out there.