“We came to believe…”

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I have many opportunities each day to interact with my kids (the eighteen patients on the Adolescent Chemical Dependency Unit) in ways that are, hopefully, mutually enriching. In particular, I sit down with them every evening for a one-hour discussion group. Last night, the topic was “beliefs” — how they influence our attitudes and actions in the world and how, if at all, they change in response to the continual influx of life experience. I’ve been into Sam Harris as of late, so I’ve been fascinated by the notion that all our beliefs have natural consequences, and that if we look deeply into our behavior and attitudes, we can infer what our core beliefs really are (our explicit life-philosophies notwithstanding).

So, the 9-11 hijackers acted in perfect accordance with their beliefs, just as most of the drug-ravaged kids I work with have certain beliefs about drug use and life in general that play out in their self-destructive behavior. This week the kids and I are going to unpack this idea and see if we can come up with anything useful to help us discover a better way to live. Should be interesting at the very least.

My friend Georg wrote in his blog yesterday about his struggle to justify and maintain a consistent meditation practice. I can whole-heartedly sympathize, as I too have been an on-again/off-again meditator for years. The bottom line, it seems, is that we’re just not convinced that meditation is the “Royal Road to Enlightenment” that Ken Wilber [pictured above] says it is. If we truly believed it, we’d be meditating our asses off. Now, Ken Wilber undoubtedly does believe this, as is evidenced by decades of highly disciplined meditation. He believes it because, unlike Georg and I, he has experienced the results first-hand. And because Wilber states his case so eloquently, along with the fact that so many others have experienced similar results, it seems that both Georg and I are still open to the idea enough to give daily meditation further consideration.

Ken Wilber is certainly a man who acts in full accordance with his core beliefs. Consider this statement, recently posted on his blog:

“This is truly the beginning of the Integral Age, which has all the signs of being one of the five or six major transformations in the history of the human race. It is a rare opportunity indeed to be living in such extraordinary times, with all the promise and peril therein. We all know the aspects of today’s world that are horrifying—from ecological despoliation and its aesthetic insult to the Kosmos, to terrorism of every imaginable variety (including political, cultural, and academic), to natural resource depletion, which might reduce human civilization to a new Middle Ages. But alongside all of those negatives, there are the extraordinary boons and benefits of a new rising culture, that of the Integral Age, of which each and every one of you here [at an Integral Institute-sponsored seminar] is a charter member.”

Sounds pretty grandiose, huh. Well, consider the fact that this guy is getting up at 12:30am every day, writing for five or six hours, then beginning a long, hyper-productive day heading his Integral Institute. Clearly, this cat believes he’s engaged in something extremely important. He actions make that very clear. Me, I’m not sure what I believe, but I have always envied people who have strong convictions and live by them. This blog is, in part, an attempt to explore and examine my beliefs, both explicit and implicit, and to hold them up in the light of an honest account of my day to day thoughts and actions. I’m digging it so far. Who knows what I will “come to believe,” as they say in Alcoholics Anonymous.

This was a longer rant than I anticipated, which is cool because I have an eighteen-hour day at work tomorrow and, unlike Ken Wilber, I will not be getting up in the middle of the night for any reason other than to pee.

Mmm, dust…

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I work Saturdays through Wednesdays, mostly evenings, so the waves of slight depression begin churning about this time every Saturday morning. Back to work already? What did I accomplish on my days off? I get so many big ideas in my head, like this “do what’s important every day” thing, only to find my enthusiasm peter out after a short while. It’s the story of my life in many ways. I get all fired up about something, then make some grand declaration about how I’m going to put my new realization into action, like when Homer Simpson vows to “live life to the fullest” after his brush with blowfish poisoning. Well, in short order Homer is back on the sofa watching bowling on TV and stuffing his face with pork rinds. And me, well, I’m back to staring at the computer screen for way too long, while my guitar and meditation bench and books and spanish tapes and weight set and most of my other “best intentions” collect another layer of dust. Mmm, dust…

Harrisy

So, I’m still smitten with this Sam Harris character. I’ve spent a big chunk of precious me-time today scouring the internet for interviews and essays, dizzying myself in the process and, truth be told, this blog entry is merely a break in the action. I think I’m so lit-up by this guy because he’s managed to articulate my own convictions and concerns to a T. I remember being twelve years old or so and inviting a Jehovah’s Witness into my living room. He merely wanted to leave me a few pamphlets, but I challenged him to an impromptu debate on the nature of reality. Of course, he couldn’t give me satisfactory responses to any of my questions and quandaries, and when I bid him adieu I couldn’t help but feel intellectually superior. But, more importantly, I thoroughly enjoyed the interaction.

Another thing that strikes me about Sam Harris is that he speaks his mind in no uncertain terms — even shockingly provocative terms — and yet he nevertheless manages to be open and respectful in dialogue with others. I’ve always felt that knowledge and understanding can only be achieved through ongoing dialogue, yet it seems so few people have the willingness and/or capacity to be intellectually honest while retaining a true sense of openmindedness to others’ perspectives. Nowhere is this more apparent than in matters of faith. Indeed, faith can be a real conversation-stopper. When it comes to religion, the most obvious questions don’t get asked, much less answered. And like I tell my patients, whatever we sweep under the rug, whatever we don’t face directly, always comes back to bite us in the ass.

My sentiments exactly

Sam Harris is my new God. Okay, so maybe that misses his point entirely, but I do have to say that I’m completely blown away by this guy. Forget about all that shit I said about my future rants against ignorance and fundamentalism. Sam Harris has already said everything I wanted to say on the matter, and he said it better than I ever could.

Thanks to my buddy Sean for giving me a heads-up about Harris via his blog. I’ve spent half the day reading Harris’s various online articles, and I’ll be reading his two books as soon as I can get hold of them. It’s weird that the day after declaring my intention to express my views with a greater sense of urgency, I would happen upon Harris, who expresses so clearly every nascent idea and argument I’ve ever considered regarding the scourge of religious dogmatism. Discovering this guy feels almost like divine intervention, but of course that notion is really fucking stupid.

Thanks George

I’ve never been a very political animal. If you ask me what I think, I’ll tell you, but I tend to be passive in the political arena. Lately though, I feel an internal shift in this regard. I’m getting more and more worked up over “the state of things.” More and more I feel the need to take a stand, state my opinion with conviction. In a way, I have George W. Bush to thank for this, because he represents (in my mind, anyway) the two things that arouse my ire to a fever pitch: Stupidity and Fundamentalism.

I’m sure I’ll have more to say about this in the coming days and weeks, but as far as I’m concerned, the most destructive, dangerous forces in the universe right now are fundamentalist religion (especially Christianity and Islam) and psychological ignorance. Of course, the two go together like Taco Bell and indigestion.

It’s been a treat for me to see Former President Bill Clinton giving interviews on the news lately. He was the first politician I ever voted for, and although I was very disappointed by his disgraceful indiscretions while in office, I am thrilled to hear a voice out there that makes a little sense, that makes use of and appreciates open-ended thinking, discussion and learning. These are things the idiot and the fundamentalist simply and simple-mindedly will not tolerate.

Hell is real

I can’t remember if was in Arkansas or Tennessee, but we were driving along a stretch of highway that was flanked by opposing camps engaged in an epic battle for our very souls. On our right were giant billboards advertising Adult Books and Videos. Every few miles we’d see one, and on the other side of the road would be the counter-message, straight from You Know Who. Hell is real. That’s the one that really grabbed my attention. And having just suffered the ignorance of eighteen-wheeled a-holes for the previous three hundred miles, I couldn’t agree more.

Hell is real, and it can also disguise itself as a Taco Bell in Tennessee, where the spicy chicken tacos gnaw at your insides, compelling you to jump the highway divide into on-coming traffic. Yes, Hell can take many forms. It’s sneaky like that. I believe that’s where we really went after the Rehearsal Dinner on Friday. The sign out front said “Ernie Bigs,” but the shitty music and drunk, obnoxious frat boys inside said “Welcome to Hell!” But I prayed hard to You know who, and he came to me in the form of an elderly black man driving a yellow car, who whisked me away from the licking flames and deposited me safely back at the hotel.

Another one of the signs on the left side of the highway said “I love you,” and it was signed by You know who. I believe that one too, although the guy standing behind me in line at the adult bookstore said the same thing.

Live and let me get around you

They say if you visualize something with all of your heart and soul, you can turn your fantasies into reality. If so, then there are several truck-drivers who woke up today covered in painful boils. For the love of God, why would you pull into the passing lane if you have no intention of passing?!?! I do my best to drive as safely as possible, but safety is simply impossible when you are literally surrounded by morons with zero awareness of how their actions on the road (and in the world) impact others. Normally, I’m a pretty laid-back guy when it comes to such things, but ten hours of being at the mercy of clueless asswipes was just too much for me to take.

These days I vaccilate between a “live and let live” attitude toward others and a burning sense of righteous indignation against the ignorance and stupidity I see everywhere in society. That I too am implicated in this sad state of affairs is clear enough, but deep down I feel like I’m a cut above. I’ll just come right out and say it: I think I’m better than most people. When I pass someone on the freeway, I make quick work of ’em, then I get back into the right lane. It’s that simple people! If people would even begin to realize their potential for acting more intelligently in the world, there would be such a reduction of needless suffering that the earth might fly off it’s orbit.

Oh yeah — The wedding was beautiful.

Bon voyage

Finished up the work week without much ado. Now I must hastily pack and get to bed so that I’ll be refreshed for the ten hour drive to Little Rock. The iPod is charged and ready for road-trippin’. Copious amounts of coffee are set for brewing and consumption. Socks and underwear — check. Suits, shirts, ties, shoes, belt — check. Toiletries — check. Affable demeanor, idle conversation talking points — check. Lap-top charged up and in carrying case — Doh!

Sofa siesta

Holy crap, am I ever tired. One more day of work and Mary Alice and I hit the road for Little Rock, Arkansas to celebrate her brother’s wedding. I sorely need the break from the hospital and the ever-present drama therein. Last night and today I went round and round with several kids, trying (in vain) to help them accept responsibility for their actions. One of the Gummy Snatchers could not for the life of him understand why his confession (“I stole some snacks and then lied to staff about it.”) was met with some consequences from me (several written assignments; loss of snack privileges). “This is bullshit! I’m getting in trouble for doing the right thing!”

Ah, the wonders of young minds. I passed out cold on the sofa in the middle of the previous sentence. I’m sure I was going somewhere with the “hard-headedness of teenagers” thing. Oh well, I can do some more research tomorrow.

Invasion of the gummy-snatchers

Monday mornings I wake to sound of the dumpster being emptied. When it crashes to the ground the whole apartment shakes. In my sleepy haze I thought another thunderstorm was raging. I was dreaming about the kids (the patients at work). Most nights, it seems, I dream about the kids. Today I’ll be with them for twelve hours, so tonight — guess what — I’ll probably dream about the kids. I need to learn to manage my attention better while I’m at work. I am so hyper-vigilant, as if national security is on the line if I miss a note being passed, or a pack of gummy-bears being lifted from the galley. Yesterday we caught someone stealing gummies. He shoved a few packs into the front pocket of his hoody after getting his allotted “one snack and a drink.” Turns out he had a whole stock-pile in his room. Weapons of mass tooth-decay. After some intense interrogation (no water-boarding, I swear), we uncovered a whole ring of gummy-snatchers. Harsh consequences were laid down. The eighteen young mouths on the Adolescent Chemical Dependency Unit are safer today than they were yesterday. I sleep well at night. Except for those damned dreams.