Thoughts
In today's postmodern age where we deconstruct and reconstruct the meanings behind the things that our forefathers took for granted as being solid, is there a basement we can reach where deconstruction and reconstruction end? Is there an ending to the questioning? Or is questioning the only way to establish what is real? A lot of my friends are of the idea that each person constructs their own reality. It is their right and privilege to view the world through whatever lens that makes sense to them at the time they are living. If this is true, that we all construct what is real, what happens when someone's view of reality severely conflicts with another person's view? Let's be a little extreme here: Jeffery Dalmer, at one time in his life, thought it is not only right, but fitting, to rape and then eat young Filipino boys. My guess is that this view of reality contradicts most other people's view of what is real. But if you take the argument that each person has a right to feel and think the way they do, then where do we stop? You can't stop, if you think every person has that right. Between the two bookmarks of what each person thinks is right and what each person thinks is real, can lie any philosophy ranging from Ghandi's view of nonviolence to Hitler's master race. The idea that reigns in our culture now, if it feels right, do it, or no one has a right to tell a person what they can or cannot do is alright in theory but not in practice. How can you live in a world where someone may see your child and decide it's time for a little sodomy and abduction if you follow this way of thinking. If someone says that pigs can fly, that doesn't they actually can or even that it would be a good idea. In practicality, and in no offense to any Americans reading this blog, America would not be the country it is today if the forefathers took this view of "I'm okay and you're okay" with the Indians, Mexicans and other people who were here first. Maybe it would be a better place, but the reality of what you know now would be very different. Maybe you wouldn't be the most powerful nation on earth. Let's move to a smaller way of looking at this. If the state of Texas was founded by people with that mindset, then Texas would not be Texas. It would not be the Lone Star state. Its motto woould be that the state is just like any of the others, equally worthy and no different from Kansas or Maine or Kentucky. But if you know a Texan, you know that's just not true. Or at least they don't think it's true. So then, this philosophy of deconstructing and reconstructing seems to be applied to some things and not to others. It is like being a little bit pregnant. You either are or you're not. If reality is a fixed thing, with one central truth, then it has to be that. Or there is no truth at all. Tell me what you think if you have any thoughts.
Ponderings
I speak with an accent. It is not a speech impediment. It is an accent. If I was at home, I would be speaking like everyone else. Let me tell you a true story. Before I was about to see my first clients, I had a meeting with my supervisor, who shall remain unnamed. Not because she was a bad supervisor because she's not, but because I have a great deal of respect and honor for her. But she had to give me some painful truth. She said, "Adrian, how shall I put this? Here at the clinic, we see a lot of . . . hicks. Perhaps we should help you to be more understood by them." She "suggested" I go to the speech clinic on campus to help me with my accent. So at this speech clinic, I was filling out their paperwork, and I found out what they were going to do for me was called "accent modification." It began with a young lady looking down my throat to see if I had any deformities. Yes, she actually looked down my throat to see if there was anything wrong with the way I spoke. You can tell I still have some issues with what went on at the speech lab. But long story short, I now can pronounce my "th" and speak a little slower. My hick clients have said, "We just love us some Adrian!" and "I just love the way you talk!" So maybe it worked out for the best. But there is a part of me that is still a little bitter. I mean, if you guys can say "y'all" why can't I say tird (third)?? I mean, you do know that you have an accent, right? I mean, do you think we'll be talking in heaven that way? Okay, that was a low blow. Sorry, I got a little carried away. So why don't we all appreciate the accents? Me with my sexy Caribbean accent and you with your time-sensitive "y'all.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Sunday, November 1, 2009
trees and fruits
thoughts
A friend of my wife said she would make the same decision Eve made in the garden, that she would need to know all that she could. She would definitely have eaten from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. It has set me thinking. On some level, do we see that the knowledge acquired from that tree as a good thing? It is almost like we still revere the thing that brought us out of God's grace. I think that we somehow place reasoning and knowledge of good and evil as the same thing. I struggle with the idea of what the tree truly represents. The knowledge of good and evil can be distilled down to the tenet of choice. So did we have choice before we partook of the fruit? I think we did. Adam and Eve had a choice of taking it or not taking it (the fruit). So if we had choice before, then what does the tree symbolize? I am still thinking on this, but so far, I am leaning to this answer: the tree of the knowledge of good and evil is a choice of reasoning based on our own intellect and experiences alone. It is us making our decisions based on our own human understanding. It is devoid of divine influence. If we are God-breathed, it implies then that we are more than just reasoning or thinking animals. There is something in us that sets us above the mere created creatures. It is the ability to hear God's voice, however you choose to understand that. When Adam and Eve made that decision, they consciously decided not to listen to their Creator and leaned on their own understanding. Today I think this is still our trouble. We fall back onto the thinking learned from the tree of good and evil. So how can we get away from this predicament? I found in the last few months that it starts with realizing that God is speaking, but we must choose to hear. How we hear His voice depends on who we are and how He made us. Some of us hear that still, small voice. Others see Him in our children and in His creation. However you hear the voice, will you listen? Or will you rely solely on the knowledge gained from the tree in the garden?
ponderings
Toilet seats. I watched a movie where this woman was arguing with her husband about lifting the toilet seat. She was peeved because he left the toilet seat up. Here is my spiel on this: if men and women are created equally and have the same value, why the fuss about the toilet seat? She can put it down just as easily as he can pick it up. Are women of the world going to the bathroom don't look and step back blindly toward the seat, saying that it had better be down, or there will be hell to pay!? Have marital relationships come down to a power play over something as silly as lifting or lowering a seat? Maybe I am a Neanderthal man, but I just don't get it. Putting on my strategic hat, is the position of the toilet seat a communication for love and respect from one spouse to another? From an IFS perspective, is the firefighter crying out for love through the placement of the toilet seat? From the multi-gen angle, what kind of differentiation do we need from the toilet seat? What latent anxiety is there? What have we learned from our family of origin? From collaborative languages, can't we all get along? You're ok, I'm ok, the toilet seat is ok. From a structural bias, how does the placement of the toilet seat affect the alignment and hierarchy of the male/female dynamic? What subordinate stories are being subjugated by the dominant themes that involve the placement of the toilet seat, narratively speaking? But at last, maybe CBT has the answer. What cognitive distortions have lead us to this place where marital happiness hinges on the toilet seat (pun intended)? If you have any ideas on this matter, please let me know. I am as curious as the next person.
A friend of my wife said she would make the same decision Eve made in the garden, that she would need to know all that she could. She would definitely have eaten from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. It has set me thinking. On some level, do we see that the knowledge acquired from that tree as a good thing? It is almost like we still revere the thing that brought us out of God's grace. I think that we somehow place reasoning and knowledge of good and evil as the same thing. I struggle with the idea of what the tree truly represents. The knowledge of good and evil can be distilled down to the tenet of choice. So did we have choice before we partook of the fruit? I think we did. Adam and Eve had a choice of taking it or not taking it (the fruit). So if we had choice before, then what does the tree symbolize? I am still thinking on this, but so far, I am leaning to this answer: the tree of the knowledge of good and evil is a choice of reasoning based on our own intellect and experiences alone. It is us making our decisions based on our own human understanding. It is devoid of divine influence. If we are God-breathed, it implies then that we are more than just reasoning or thinking animals. There is something in us that sets us above the mere created creatures. It is the ability to hear God's voice, however you choose to understand that. When Adam and Eve made that decision, they consciously decided not to listen to their Creator and leaned on their own understanding. Today I think this is still our trouble. We fall back onto the thinking learned from the tree of good and evil. So how can we get away from this predicament? I found in the last few months that it starts with realizing that God is speaking, but we must choose to hear. How we hear His voice depends on who we are and how He made us. Some of us hear that still, small voice. Others see Him in our children and in His creation. However you hear the voice, will you listen? Or will you rely solely on the knowledge gained from the tree in the garden?
ponderings
Toilet seats. I watched a movie where this woman was arguing with her husband about lifting the toilet seat. She was peeved because he left the toilet seat up. Here is my spiel on this: if men and women are created equally and have the same value, why the fuss about the toilet seat? She can put it down just as easily as he can pick it up. Are women of the world going to the bathroom don't look and step back blindly toward the seat, saying that it had better be down, or there will be hell to pay!? Have marital relationships come down to a power play over something as silly as lifting or lowering a seat? Maybe I am a Neanderthal man, but I just don't get it. Putting on my strategic hat, is the position of the toilet seat a communication for love and respect from one spouse to another? From an IFS perspective, is the firefighter crying out for love through the placement of the toilet seat? From the multi-gen angle, what kind of differentiation do we need from the toilet seat? What latent anxiety is there? What have we learned from our family of origin? From collaborative languages, can't we all get along? You're ok, I'm ok, the toilet seat is ok. From a structural bias, how does the placement of the toilet seat affect the alignment and hierarchy of the male/female dynamic? What subordinate stories are being subjugated by the dominant themes that involve the placement of the toilet seat, narratively speaking? But at last, maybe CBT has the answer. What cognitive distortions have lead us to this place where marital happiness hinges on the toilet seat (pun intended)? If you have any ideas on this matter, please let me know. I am as curious as the next person.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
moments
thoughts
How do you measure moments? When life is against you and everything seems to be not going your way, moments seem to stretch forever. However, when we are engrossed in whatever we find interesting, moments seem to be so fleeting. Maybe life's lessons are better appreciated in the tough moments. In these places, maybe we are truly alive. Our biology suggests that in moments of flight or fight, time seems to slow, all our senses seem to be heightened. We are ready to make life-and-death decisions. Do the hard moments seem so long because to live in a crucible is the way we best see God? Or are we so busy looking for joy and peace outside of Him that for us to remember Whose we are we need to experience hard times so that we can turn our faces to Him who is the author and finisher of our faith? Some questions. If you have some answers, let me know.
ponderings
I have been thinking about Miley Cyrus a lot lately. No, I'm not being weird or perverted. With so much time on my hands, ideas come to mind. I have noticed a progression in this young lady. She seems to have fallen under the spell of our society that states for a young girl to be a woman, she must be a sexual being, which is kind of odd. Usually in this society, men pass through the same crucible by turning 18, learning to drive, and getting a job, but the benchmark for young ladies seem to be the stage Miley Cyrus is going through right now: wearing provocative clothes, gyrating at the CMA awards and acting out in other ways. I do not have a uterus; I will be the first to admit. But you have to admit that this seems to be perverse. If I have missed something, please bring it to my understanding. But my heart kind of breaks for this young lady, who seems to have only one way to tell the world that she is maturing into a young lady. This, to my mind, is sad.
How do you measure moments? When life is against you and everything seems to be not going your way, moments seem to stretch forever. However, when we are engrossed in whatever we find interesting, moments seem to be so fleeting. Maybe life's lessons are better appreciated in the tough moments. In these places, maybe we are truly alive. Our biology suggests that in moments of flight or fight, time seems to slow, all our senses seem to be heightened. We are ready to make life-and-death decisions. Do the hard moments seem so long because to live in a crucible is the way we best see God? Or are we so busy looking for joy and peace outside of Him that for us to remember Whose we are we need to experience hard times so that we can turn our faces to Him who is the author and finisher of our faith? Some questions. If you have some answers, let me know.
ponderings
I have been thinking about Miley Cyrus a lot lately. No, I'm not being weird or perverted. With so much time on my hands, ideas come to mind. I have noticed a progression in this young lady. She seems to have fallen under the spell of our society that states for a young girl to be a woman, she must be a sexual being, which is kind of odd. Usually in this society, men pass through the same crucible by turning 18, learning to drive, and getting a job, but the benchmark for young ladies seem to be the stage Miley Cyrus is going through right now: wearing provocative clothes, gyrating at the CMA awards and acting out in other ways. I do not have a uterus; I will be the first to admit. But you have to admit that this seems to be perverse. If I have missed something, please bring it to my understanding. But my heart kind of breaks for this young lady, who seems to have only one way to tell the world that she is maturing into a young lady. This, to my mind, is sad.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
People
Thoughts
In class at church today, a man asked a question which on the surface meant one thing. If you paid attention to his grammar, the question would be, "What is suffering?" If you look under the question to the intent behind what he was asking, another picture appears. A struggle in this man's mind to what he fears, what he struggles with. The idea that Christians suffer scared him to his core. He seemed to want to be reassured that suffering isn't as bad as it sounds or something that he doesn't have to face because he walks with Jesus. I wish I could tell him and reassure him that he should not have a care in the world, you are in the hands of the man from Galilee. For he is, but there is an aspect of the Savior's life that we sometimes gloss over. We see first the benefits of believing in Him and living life in His will, where there is an enternal reward of life everlasting in harmony with God, forever and ever, amen. However, we seem to forget the price paid for that. The cross and the humiliation of being called a blasphemer, a bastard, and demon-possessed caused Him suffering. And if we are to walk like Jesus did, then there will be suffering. Maybe not the cross, but bills to pay, uncertainties, men wanting jihad, and the list goes on. I wish I could tell him that it will be alright, for it will be in the end. But sometime, sooner or later, he will suffer. Not because Jesus dislikes him or is making him earn his way into the kingdom but simply because we live in a fallen world. As fallen men and women, we make choices that impact everyone else upon this mortal coil. The best blessing I may be able to say to him is, "Strength and courage." For we all battle with the unspoken fears of our daily living. One thing I am sure of, though, this trial cannot be avoided. It must be embraced. What we fear, what we rage against must be faced with strength and courage in His name and His will be praised.
Ponderings
I took a class called Assessments. I hated this class. Our job was to diagnose and to say in colorful, flowery language that some people are . . . crazy. There. I said the "c" word. Let me give you an example of this: After testing and assessments, you find that the person who took the assessment is out of his mind, one cannot simply just say that. The phrases "crazy as a loon," "off his rocker," and "out of your ever-loving mind" are simply not used. The good doctor taught us well. We are to say things like, "This person exemplifies behavior found in a clinical group where one's grasp on reality is short of the standard measurement." "This person illustrates thought processes that are non-compliant with reality." "The client's attitudes suggest that they are not acquainted with time, place or person." I thought I would never get this right. The process was, to me, torture, making a great diagnosis and expressing it in a "preferred" manner. Sometime after taking this class, I had to do an official report to an unnamed government agency about an unnamed client. My supervisor at my externship had to sign off on the report before it could be sent out to the unnamed government agency. After reading the report, his words were, "This report would have done the old man proud." Some of you who are reading this might know who the old man is. In fact, the old man may be reading this! If you are, thank you. Some days, things that we don't like to do should be done in excellence.
In class at church today, a man asked a question which on the surface meant one thing. If you paid attention to his grammar, the question would be, "What is suffering?" If you look under the question to the intent behind what he was asking, another picture appears. A struggle in this man's mind to what he fears, what he struggles with. The idea that Christians suffer scared him to his core. He seemed to want to be reassured that suffering isn't as bad as it sounds or something that he doesn't have to face because he walks with Jesus. I wish I could tell him and reassure him that he should not have a care in the world, you are in the hands of the man from Galilee. For he is, but there is an aspect of the Savior's life that we sometimes gloss over. We see first the benefits of believing in Him and living life in His will, where there is an enternal reward of life everlasting in harmony with God, forever and ever, amen. However, we seem to forget the price paid for that. The cross and the humiliation of being called a blasphemer, a bastard, and demon-possessed caused Him suffering. And if we are to walk like Jesus did, then there will be suffering. Maybe not the cross, but bills to pay, uncertainties, men wanting jihad, and the list goes on. I wish I could tell him that it will be alright, for it will be in the end. But sometime, sooner or later, he will suffer. Not because Jesus dislikes him or is making him earn his way into the kingdom but simply because we live in a fallen world. As fallen men and women, we make choices that impact everyone else upon this mortal coil. The best blessing I may be able to say to him is, "Strength and courage." For we all battle with the unspoken fears of our daily living. One thing I am sure of, though, this trial cannot be avoided. It must be embraced. What we fear, what we rage against must be faced with strength and courage in His name and His will be praised.
Ponderings
I took a class called Assessments. I hated this class. Our job was to diagnose and to say in colorful, flowery language that some people are . . . crazy. There. I said the "c" word. Let me give you an example of this: After testing and assessments, you find that the person who took the assessment is out of his mind, one cannot simply just say that. The phrases "crazy as a loon," "off his rocker," and "out of your ever-loving mind" are simply not used. The good doctor taught us well. We are to say things like, "This person exemplifies behavior found in a clinical group where one's grasp on reality is short of the standard measurement." "This person illustrates thought processes that are non-compliant with reality." "The client's attitudes suggest that they are not acquainted with time, place or person." I thought I would never get this right. The process was, to me, torture, making a great diagnosis and expressing it in a "preferred" manner. Sometime after taking this class, I had to do an official report to an unnamed government agency about an unnamed client. My supervisor at my externship had to sign off on the report before it could be sent out to the unnamed government agency. After reading the report, his words were, "This report would have done the old man proud." Some of you who are reading this might know who the old man is. In fact, the old man may be reading this! If you are, thank you. Some days, things that we don't like to do should be done in excellence.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Plans of Men and Other Folly
Thoughts
I had a plan. I knew every detail, nuance, twist and turn of how my life would go after graduation. Ha. It is time for a new plan. I try to live my life by walking in my faith, but sometimes I forget my faith takes putting Him, who is the author and finisher of all things, first. It is humbling to realize that plans made of men's own desires are fragile and lowly things. So now I am walking with a new plan, waiting on His direction, with patience (oh how dearly I am trying for it).
Ponderings
On a lighter note, I think have finally found out why Texans are all so polite. They are all packing heat! It came as a shock to me that guns make you friendlier, rather than the opposite. It seems logical to think that if you carry a weapon that is capable of ending another person's life, it would make you an angry, testosterone-riddled individual. Not so, really. It seems that guns have the opposite effect, at least here in Texas. It seems when you have the ability to defend oneself, an eerie calm seems to come upon you, and you are willing to look on your fellow man with a lot more patience and consideration. If your fellow man misbehaves, a person has at their disposal the ability to settle matters quite quickly.
Another thought also came to mind. Since one does not know who is packing heat, it behooves one to treat everyone else in the Lone Star state with kindness and consideration because of the possibility of someone busting caps into one's posterior.
I had a plan. I knew every detail, nuance, twist and turn of how my life would go after graduation. Ha. It is time for a new plan. I try to live my life by walking in my faith, but sometimes I forget my faith takes putting Him, who is the author and finisher of all things, first. It is humbling to realize that plans made of men's own desires are fragile and lowly things. So now I am walking with a new plan, waiting on His direction, with patience (oh how dearly I am trying for it).
Ponderings
On a lighter note, I think have finally found out why Texans are all so polite. They are all packing heat! It came as a shock to me that guns make you friendlier, rather than the opposite. It seems logical to think that if you carry a weapon that is capable of ending another person's life, it would make you an angry, testosterone-riddled individual. Not so, really. It seems that guns have the opposite effect, at least here in Texas. It seems when you have the ability to defend oneself, an eerie calm seems to come upon you, and you are willing to look on your fellow man with a lot more patience and consideration. If your fellow man misbehaves, a person has at their disposal the ability to settle matters quite quickly.
Another thought also came to mind. Since one does not know who is packing heat, it behooves one to treat everyone else in the Lone Star state with kindness and consideration because of the possibility of someone busting caps into one's posterior.
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