Keeping my Eye on What's Important

It is very quaint to me that I still get upset over small, trivial things.  Alright, quaint is not the right word, it is annoying that I still get upset over small, petty things that in the grand scheme don't matter.  In the end I know that I am just food for worms, just a sack of meat that has been cursed with sentience.  That last sentence makes it sound as if I don't wish to be sentient, that is not true, what I wish is that I could keep my eye on the prize, which is to raise a daughter that feels connected to her community, that feels that there is more to just a buck for labor exchange.

What is hard is that I myself, while wanting to feel connected to my community, feel the most disconnected when I make errors in judgment (such as when I push off paying bills for an iPad, or some such electronic device that is mined by struggling laborers in the developing world).  This does little to help my community, in fact, I feel that rampant, runaway mass consumerism in America is what is destroying communities (but that is a topic to address later).

When I ran the Portland Marathon in January what I saw amazed me and made me feel proud not only to be a Portlander, but to be a part of something that was and was not about me.  It was about the community gathering together to cheer on and support runners.  I was winded on the last eight miles, I was hobbling because my training always peaked at 14.3 miles, never more, so I was unprepared for my feet to be in so much pain, while I was limp run/walking many fellow runners and spectators not only cheered me on, but asked if I was alright.  Community, that was the one thing that I took away from that marathon (other than train harder and better).

One does not need to run endurance sports to feel connected, my example worked for me, but the easiest way to get involved is to take an interest, help people, smile, make eye contact.  It is so easy in today's fast paced big meal world to just ignore, look the other way, ramp up the volume on your iPod and plug out from those around you.  In fact, for me, sometimes I want to, I want to ignore the populace on my commute (MAX to bus route 15), but I also like to bask in the debate I witnessed over the summer on Trimet's bus line 15 over the fluoride vote, it was truly  inspiring.

What I am getting at is that I was in a bit of a funk after my work review, I kept wanting to spew Marx's labor analysis at my employer (actual labor versus compensated labor, etc.) but in reality, I make enough money to fit my current needs, and if I want to make more, well, for my experience in what I do, my training, and my resume, I know where the door is.  But it is not about that, advocating for oneself is one thing, but just finding ways to be unhappy is quite another.

All that makes me happy is treating people with the same respect that I would want if I were in their shoes.  That's always been a big problem for me as I tend to be a very self-centered asshole of a human being (an no, despite what some people want to claim, having a child is not a cure-all solution to this type of personality disorder), but I want to stop doing that, if for no other reason than that for 31 years it has cost me far more than it has ever rewarded me.

Ghandi said "If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. … We need not wait to see what others do.”  There is no larger burden than those willing to be like the Philosopher in Plato's allegory of the cave, not everyone will want to listen, most will laugh, but it's the not trying that fills you with regret when you go to sleep at night, and remember, there is no guarantee that you will wake up in the morning.

On Running

In Plato’s Apology, Socrates briefly draws a connection between the craft of teaching and that of horse training.  Granted this is also in the middle of specious assault against Socrates for so-called corruption, but this section of Plato’s dialogue, to me, represents the metaphor of my life as a runner.
Running, for me, is not particular a glorious affair.  I don’t run for a personal best w/r/t time, I don’t run for fame, I don’t even run for stamina (although, to be fair, I really do run for stamina) so much as I run for the same reasons that Lester Burnham does in American Beauty.  That being said, there is nothing really rational in my approach to running.  I don’t do it for the health factor, in fact, I hate running, I abhor exercise and if I could just have maintained my college shape without having to work for it as I grow older, I would do so.
The stench of my sweat, the chafing of my clothing (even if it is the expensive wick-away-sweat clothing from Nike) against my skin, the blisters on my feet, the minor aches and pains, and between miles seven and eight where I just wish God would strike me down for heresy, yes, all that glorious exercise I would do away with if the technology promised during the 3:30 a.m. infomercial was, in fact, real.  But it is not, so, for selfish and ridiculous reasons of vanity I push myself at 5:30 a.m. to go running for a minimum of four miles just hoping that a car will see me and opt not to hit me.  Thus, circling back to Plato’s Apology my desire to run is, for me, anti-rational to a lot of self--interests.

But then, during my early morning, crisp air run I start a stream-of-consciousness that would draw the envy of Joyce.  My breathing falls into place, the classical music run playlist that I created on Spotify hits the right crescendo as I crest a hill and it all just irrationally clicks for me.  I am alive, I am not training horses (okay, maybe just a little bit) I am an artist, sculpting both my physical and mental self.  Running is not really about vanity (okay, just a little bit) as much as it is about time to contemplate further my Weltanschauung.
During runs I find that I am okay with writing off the “pop culture” music (among other facets of pop culture) that I find so dissonant and distasteful (I can stomach it in small doses, but Stravinsky will always be my dissonant master).

I realize that I would rather it there for those who can find meaning and solace in this music, but for me, the Bach Brandenburg Concertos or Wagner’s Ring will always reign supreme (not to mention a certain deaf composer).  I don’t feel the need to be snobbish about it (oh but I used to), I just also don’t feel the need to feel that I have to lower myself in order to blend in with my peers, or my daughter’s friends (although my six year old is a Wagnerian – Rheinmaidens grabbed her in Das Rheingold and wouldn’t let go).  It’s okay for people to like Game of Thrones without reading the books, it doesn’t cheapen the experience, people of the world don’t have to agree with me that the age of Shakespeare was the age of Elizabeth, the age of Pericles was the age of Sophocles, and the age of de Vinci was the age of de Medici – that is, that art is of vital importance to a culture in order to balance out said culture’s imperialistic tendincies.*  I will argue this and have done so with people, but at the end of the day, my running in the morning reminds me (usually around mile seven) that it is okay that others exist not solely to agree with me.  Discourse and dialogue are good things.

On the downhill conclusion of my run I finalize, always towards the end of anything, an ever expanding set of life goals, which are and in no particular order:

• Invest 10,000 hours in study of chess and become a Grandmaster;
• Invest in my future by studying the LSAT, getting into law school, and committing a life to the pursuit of civil justice for victims of injury;
• Learning the violin;
• Spend a month or two in Germany;
• Learn French;
• After law school and once I am financially stable, obtain a PhD in Philosophy (that one is just for me);
• Run the Athens marathon.

I’m not sure if I will do all of these things, but the possibilities that float through my head while I’m running leave me with a feeling that there is nothing holding me back save myself.  Yes, I’m usually this campy and that is when I end on a good note, I may have just lost a toenail but damn it, I certainly can compose a Haiku while strumming my violin reciting a French poem while putting that anonymous player in checkmate.
My world gets positively brighter when I run and for no other reason, that is why I do it.

*All my pop culture bitching aside, Futurama remains one of the greatest satires of the American Empire that has been created.  The whole idea of mocking the present from the comforts of the future reminds me of the Ancient Greek plays where Athens was criticized from the comforts of the play being set in Thebes, Corinth, or Sparta.