The Wild Side Of Pride

I'm going to try not to ridicule the picture of the muscle builder too much.

Nor will I try to characterize him personally as to what may be wrong emotionally and psychologically. This being an actual photograph and not a piece of impersonal clip art, it would be a crying shame for me to say too much about him, only to have him come after me. With all those muscles, there wouldn't be much left of me.

But let's just let our minds wander, and in so wandering, picture in our mind's eye some other guy who would do that to his body, all on the obviously mistaken notion that there's something good about it. I know I have lots of really bad issues with my own psychic health, but as bad as I am, I'm still apparently miles from the edge. Let's say this other guy represents some place near the edge of the worst psychic issues. That's good news for the rest of us, because we're not even close.

Now, I don't mean that physical exercise is a bad thing. Oh no. I've known people who've done it, and they say it's been beneficial to them. I can believe that, and I agree that physical exercise extends our lives, giving us extra time to do things, like exercise. I occasionally get out to the fitness center and do a little routine. Since I actually do wear bathroom slippers while I'm there, I can't do the treadmill because they keep falling off my feet. So I stick to the running machine where you don't lift your feet, instead the machine goes up and down as you move. I put in a nice five minutes last night and it was nothing.

Today I'm using our mental image of this other guy to illustrate the wild side of pride. Because that's what I'm calling it. Yes, I know, pride could only be one part of the problem. Yes, yes, that's so true. There's lots of mental workings that go into this other guy's problem, doubtless, but wouldn't you also agree that pride might be in there somewhere, at least a hint of it at some point in his life leading up to this full blown gnarliness?

What's the problem with pride? Pride goeth before gnarliness. Whether you become gnarly in the sense that you're twisted up worse than the most egregious pastry. Or whether it's a gnarliness that lieth in the inner man, where you're also twisted up in knots that can't be undone, that refuse to be loosed.

We're proud. That can be a good thing. I've been teaching pride for some time and I'm proud of my efforts. See, that's healthy. I want people to have a sense of pride. Because it helps us do a good day's work. It gives us incentive to get out of bed, incentive to hold our heads high and not let anyone get us down. It contributes to true confidence, that we not only can live but we can live life to the fullest. Because it's not just Woe is me, it's something much healthier than that.

But like anything, too much of a good thing can cross a line where it is unhealthy, bad for us. Pride that isn't checked by good sense. Pride that takes over and consumes us. Pride that leads to a fall and gnarliness. The other guy we have in mind today, we have to pity him. His pride is insane. In your mind's eye picture his little underpants. That's an absurd looking package. He'd have to use a corkscrew to take a piss!

In short, there's good pride, which we should all go for. And there's bad pride, which is to be avoided at all cost. If you have bad pride, look in a mirror. And if anyone tells you you look great, do not believe them!

The Muses Are Happy To Inspire Us

EVENING:

Our national observance, "Be Kind To Your Muse Day," is coming to a close. So if I may, I'll try to say a few inspired things about it.

Of course I'm going to need a little help, a boost, from somewhere, so I'm looking to my own muse for the words to say.

It'd be handier, I'd say, if I could just think of something on my own. And why not? I don't think of myself as a blank slate.

So perhaps it will be a joint effort, my muse and me. So, dear muse, I've been kind to you all day as the observance calls for.

What is there left to say about it? Are the muses happy with all the people -- artists, writers, musicians -- who've honored them today?

"Yes, we are very pleased to have today's tribute. We are the ones who inspire others, but today you have inspired us."

Well said, of course! Speaking for myself, that definitely makes me think we ought to pause more than just once a year to honor you.

I say this because of the muses' tireless efforts, and especially because we take credit for the things you inspire, you deserve more.

"Thank you for those kind words. But in fact it is a blessing for us to inspire the best in others, and our reward is in their work."

How gracious, dear muse, and, again, well said! I'd like to thank you for being my guest today at the house here and on Twitter too.

"If I could just say to the people of Twitter, look to us for your inspiration -- the muses -- and your tweets will be so much greater!"

Be Kind To Your Muse

AFTERNOON:

Be kind to your muse today. We need a national "Be Kind To Your Muse" day. I declare October 23 to be it!

It's a day to celebrate the inner voice doing its creative, transcendent thing. That's one way of looking at it...

If it's an outside force, an inner gathering of thoughts and dreams, a mixture of both, or simply Oneness, it's all good.

I try not to brainstorm too much because that's just saying "Hurry up!" to your muse and not being kind to the inner spirit.

What I was thinking of a while ago is that it's all me anyway, and that if I'm patient I'll have what I need when I need it.

But in saying "it's all me" I'm claiming less than it sounds, since what is "me" anyway? It's something to forget and merge.

If some of the "me" stuff would only step out of the way, imagine the free, wonderful course your muse might take!

Open To My Muse

MORNING:

Are you open to your muse?

It's one way of thinking about creativity or anything you need to accomplish.

What are the good forces that are on my side? What can I do to curry favor with them? Prayer, flattery, cash payouts?

I'd hate to think my muse was a big burly cigar-chomping sleazebag behind a desk with a bunch of Gypsy Rose Lee posters hung around.

If I didn't take his idiotic ideas he'd break my legs or something.

Whether I have a muse or not -- and sometimes I think I do, sometimes I don't -- it's a good thought, if you can imagine a decent one.

Maybe just as bad as the sleazebag muse would be a school marm muse, who's so prim, proper, and high strung she won't let you enjoy life.

Let me run an idea by you -- "NO!"

However you imagine it, whatever the source of creativity -- and it might be like bugs, they just appear from nowhere -- we know we have it.

Muses or not, each of us can let our minds go, then bring them for some kind of output. Yours might be a symphony, mine a primal scream.

My Muse Inspires Something

Where do our half-baked, nebulous, wisps of ideas come from? I usually think they're just from the hodgepodge of dreams, moods, and the unconscious stacking one thing on top of another in the parts of your brain you're not aware of.

I set a goal for myself to do something. It has a general theme, something to do with the incessant demands of self-esteem, confidence, and pride. Then everything I see reminds me of something having to do with that, however unformed or misshapen it might be.

So where it comes from? The Muses? My own muse, your own muse? Angels? Spiritual companions from the ether? Unseen forces? Inspiration by the Spirit? Synapses firing and misfiring?

If there's some kind of outside force, I need to sit down and have a talk with it. Such as, "When you show up, please come prepared. So I don't have to wear out my brain working with the little bit you give me." It'd definitely be helpful if there were outside forces, muses, because then I could let them do the work. And I could let my mind wander unrestricted and maybe really come up with something.

What if muses aren't all equally intelligent and talented? If I have a muse, how come mine isn't as good as everyone else's? What? I don't know music, I can't write symphonies, books, poetry. I have trouble with grocery lists. I'm basically stumbling through life going "Duh." If I have a muse, maybe my muse needs a muse. Piggyback muses. Muses could get together and pool their talents. If I had a whole team, maybe I wouldn't be struggling like this.

The way I usually think is that it's all internal. And that would explain the disparities between what I do, what you do, and what Beethoven did. The only one to blame is myself. If blame is the right word. There could be blame if I haven't adequately prepared myself for tasks I could do. Maybe I sat on the couch and watched TV too much. Or slept away the day instead of improving myself through culture. Or let anxiety get the best of me and rob me of my attention. I do that a lot.

But I wouldn't really be to blame if it were a matter of being functionally incapable of doing this or that. Like if I'm old and there's natural deterioration of mental abilities. I am getting old and sometimes feel about half dazed. So I can't blame myself for that, just like I can't blame myself for losing hair loss when it's just a matter of age and genetics.

There might be a way of bringing the muses back into the picture. Like if we get rid of the whole inner/outer framework. And say there just is. Like one reality. No separation. What we call inner being one with the outer, and vice versa. In that case -- and here I'm starting to get lost, which is probably a good thing -- the consciousness I think of as my own personal thing is the one consciousness beyond parts. But why's it doing different things in different people? And why does it generally take a particular tone with me and a different one with someone else?

OK, I've sat here for a while, the limit of time I set for myself. And whether the muse has been here or whether it's been just my own misfiring synapses, I wrote several paragraphs about something.

Boundaries Give Greater Freedom

EVENING:

I need one more overwrought series on the importance and value of boundaries, understanding, setting, and maintaining them.

I said I need "one more." That's a boundary I'm setting for myself. It's bad form to go on and on without limiting yourself.

I haven't always given much thought to boundaries as a valuable thing, but we all instinctively know they're valuable.

Instead, I've tended to see boundaries (and transgressions) as dangerous, negative, like with heresy trials and witch hunts.

"The wages of sin is death" is one good way of declaring the penalty of crossing boundaries in a broader existential way.

But boundaries are valuable, just thinking of one reason I touched on this morning: They enclose what you have, so they're informative.

To have limited things and range is strangely freeing. You can appreciate and savor instead of endless tending and surface attention.

I haven't been good at setting boundaries as they relate to possessions. My boundary has been my level of spending is equal to my income.

I'm definitely going to think more about the positive aspects of boundaries, setting them for myself, then respecting the limits.

Who couldn't use a little more freedom courtesy of limiting yourself in a reasonable way?

Have you ever heard of this concept? --> If you can't own every single thing in the world, there's really no reason to own any of them.

Practically there's plenty of reasons to own things, of course. But think about it ... It's a thought piece.

Boundaries Are Good Things

AFTERNOON:

Boundaries are good things.

I definitely tend to mine. Sometimes my personal boundaries are like the Berlin Wall. But not usually.

In certain respects, there's no entry or it's very limited.

If you have strong personal boundaries, you're more likely to respect other people's boundaries.

Those are the hands-off, nose-out-of-my-business kinds of boundaries. No wandering hands, no prying eyes.

Other boundaries are more mental, your field of operation, where you range and how far you range.

We think of the Highest, but sacred literature lets us know there are boundaries. And common experience says so too.

This is all for the good. We're drawn onward and upward, step by step, with more and more as we're ready.

Mental boundaries are also good so you're not always reinventing the wheel. We know something and it forms a boundary because we've learned.

I know better than to touch the stove. I have a self-imposed boundary. It's physically possible to touch it, but I'm not going to.

If I don't want to do something, I tell people my mother told me I couldn't cross the street. Thanks, Mom, for that boundary and excuse.

Be Properly Bounded

I'm thinking this morning about the sense of enclosure, of being bounded. I guess the word for it is boundaries.

I've presently got a house around me. I could run against the wall if I wanted but that's as far as I would get. I usually take it for granted that there's a house around me, but it's something to think about once in a while.

It's comforting to know that the house is there. That whatever rain, wind, and blowing leaves there are outside aren't in here. It's warmer in here too, because the furnace puts out warm air that mostly is restricted by the same boundaries. I need to put some plastic over one of my windows, since it's always cold right there. The boundary line must be compromised.

There's lots about boundaries that I like. Having a property line lets me know where all my half acre extends to, and it lets others know they shouldn't be encroaching on it. Having personal boundaries keeps society perking along, with other people's fists not regularly encroaching on my face. Those are physical boundaries.

Social boundaries are good too, and these are more often in the process of being established or extended, and sometimes being exceeded. The judge in Louisiana who refused to marry an interracial couple was taken by surprise that social boundaries have been extended. The rest of us expect judges to keep up!

My opinion of boundaries would be the commonplace one, that they're good, as long as they're not artificially encroaching on life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Since we all live in a more or less bounded environment anyway, there's really no going beyond them, unless you're NASA or the late Steve Fossett.

So that's the topic.

I've got a few minutes to relate this to self-esteem, confidence, and pride, as part of my "Drive-for-Pride" campaign, which rolls on!

Self-esteem is obviously about yourself. You can see the common sense boundaries of your body. I need to get to the fitness club and work on the boundaries of my own body, because I like them to be a little leaner and more defined. But that's me. Up here, though, in your mind, there aren't always the same boundaries. They're there, of course. But we can take flights of fancy. And beyond that, we're being mentally extended all the time, whether we want to be or not.

I personally want to be mentally extended. So if I'm not too anxious about something, I can relax and read and, you know, go beyond. But I also want to be able to keep it in some kind of manageable context, which is going to help me have meaning. If I have an infinite number of thoughts about an infinite number of things -- imagine it -- there's going to be no meaning, because there would be no reflection, or you could say there'd be infinite reflection, which, as far as I'm concerned, would be the same as saying there's none.

For there to be meaning and any defined context, then, I need mental boundaries. So I'm thinking of them. And I'm thinking where they should be, what kind of extension is to be allowed, insofar as these things can be consciously regulated.

You and I will both have greater self-esteem the more we take charge of our own thinking. It makes sense, doesn't it, that if you think your thinking is out of your grasp, that your self-esteem, confidence, and pride are going to be nebulous?

I personally started this day thinking about boundaries -- in terms of what is holy, in terms of transgressing boundaries, etc., etc., which I have no time for now. But the boundaries I'm thinking of above is the same subject, who you are in an integral, conscious way up here, then who you'll be in the physical world around.

The Value Of My Unique Brand

AFTERNOON:

Each snowflake is different. And we've got more going on than snowflakes. So we have our own unique brand.

Of course we brand people we meet, even with first impressions. Later there's greater confirmation or the opposite.

Most movies have the characters branded, ready made for us. Liberty Valance wasn't played by Wally Cox.

But what I'm concerned about is my own unique brand, since it helps with inner understanding, ambitions, drives, etc.

In terms of self-esteem, seeing your unique brand helps with having confidence, feeling worthwhile and properly proud.

I see my own unique brand when I get up and when I do anything. But this isn't just passive acceptance, because I also affect it.

Any kind of meaningful change affects your unique brand, but of course you don't usually change drastically all at once.

I think you can have greater self-esteem almost at once, if you come to appreciate the things that make you you.

This is hilarious stuff, isn't it? Because something in my mind says there's no way I should know what I'm talking about. Yet I seem to!

My Unique Brand

Here I am again, with something on my mind. Today I'm thinking about my unique brand, what makes me me.

I was reading a scholarly treatise one day on the Pepsi brand, how they're working with a very conscious psychology to get it just right, in line with the times, in line with their heritage, so it will sell as much as possible. And stand out.

It was a little amusing in one sense, that they were projecting the same philosophy and justifying it in terms of today even for the brand 75-80 years ago, or however long it's been. But it's a great idea, and with enough circles and swirls, pie charts and protractors, you can fudge anything.

But really, who can doubt their word, since they sell an enormous quantity of the stuff. I personally don't drink it, but I liked it when I did. The doctor said to quit drinking Pepsi, Coke, all that, so I did. Cold turkey.

Cold Turkey is probably part of my own brand. If there's any quittin' to be done -- "I'm the boss, I say when it's quittin' time" -- it's quittin' time. Just like that, like the snap of my fingers. It's hard, but there's no use in prolonging the inevitable. Just do it. I quit smoking that way, which also was very hard, harder than quitting soda pop. But I got it done.

Yesterday I was thinking about my exact (or close) double in the world. Of course I'm still thinking about him, since the longing doesn't go away after one day. It long preceded yesterday, and unless he and I get lucky, it will go on long after. I guess that's part of my brand, the longing for things. But I'm realistic enough to know there could be some more disappointment.

I really hate to talk too much about my unique brand, because it's a very personal thing (1), and (2) it just sounds like so much self indulgence. Not that I don't like self indulgence -- I do. But it makes for a nasty public display, because everyone else is so busy indulging themselves that they have very little patience for someone else doing it. I know that's the way it is with me, but I at least yield long enough to check out everyone else's self indulgence long enough to see if maybe one of them is my exact double. Also, beyond that, I think it's a kind thing to do, to let people know their self indulgence is an interesting thing to me. It can be.

That sounds like part of my unique brand -- not unique in the sense that no one else does it, but unique as part of the whole constellation of what makes my brand mine. I stay busy tiptoeing around people's feelings, trying to make connections with them that tells them they're important, interesting, and valuable. Hence also my stepping forward as a self-esteem teacher, one sharing the steps to confidence, and everything concerning my current "Drive-for-Pride."

I wouldn't want to be a lifestyle sciences coach, a spirituality coach, and all the other things that I currently am -- oh yeah, a group dynamics expert -- if I didn't have a heart for the needs of others. So that's my brand.

Maybe the whole search for my exact double is behind a lot of this.

Double The Chances Of Finding My Double

EVENING:

What if my double doesn't actually exist, that the whole thing about having a double somewhere in the world is a myth?

It wouldn't have to be a myth exactly. It might be that there is a double for people on average, but averages mean some are left out.

Averages or not, I'm not usually left out ... so I will persevere!

And I'm not going to be discouraged, because part of the fun of life is the looking. Never really knowing what's over the next hill.

If he's out there, and he truly is my double, that means he's busy looking too, giving us double the chances of finding each other.

And both of us have the advantage in that we make snap judgments, meaning we don't have to linger too long over false leads or obvious mismatches.

So if anyone in the crowd is a false lead or an obvious mismatch, please step out of the way to minimize our processing time.

Searching Till I Find My Double

EARLY EVENING:

How is it that no one else ever used the phrase "Double Recognition Sieve" before me? What's going on here?

Yesterday it was the phrase "A Plate of Elk Legs" that no one else had ever used (determined by a Google search.)

I'm not just sitting here trying to come up with random phrases for the sake of saying something different. Of course anyone could do that.

These are just phrases that are part of normal vocabulary, vocalizing concepts, what's on my mind.

Probably if I was putting an effort into it, I'd sit here and draw a blank. So I don't know what's going on exactly.

The phrase itself isn't the important thing, of course. What's important IS the concept, of how you would recognize your perfect double.

I feel like I'm stumbling through life incomplete, feeling there has to be someone out there who is my double...

I will go from town to town, blog to blog, one Twitter account after another -- with my "Double Recognition Sieve" -- till I find him!

Sifting For My Double

AFTERNOON:

I've had "My Double Recognition Sieve" out and have been working it today, with everyone I happen to meet.

This is my term for the process whereby I search for my double in this world. Where is he? What's taking so long for us to get together?

I've been with people today. As great as they are, none of them has come close to making it through the Sieve.

There's always the possibility that he and I are passing as we go about our business around town. But it's just a matter of being patient.

When and if we ever meet--my double and I--it will no doubt be a day of rejoicing for each one of us. Because he has to feel the same way.

The weird thing is, there must be this guy out there with his own "Double Recognition Sieve."

And if he should sift me before I have a chance to sift him, he'll probably be clunking it to see if it's malfunctioning, since it says YES.

Then I'll have mine blinking and beeping and I'll be clunking it, instead of just believing our good luck, that the thing actually worked.

My Double Recognition Sieve

MORNING:

Can I go through my entire life without meeting, knowing, and enjoying the company of my double?

It's on my mind -- Where are you, dude? Is he looking for me too? Maybe, maybe not.

I've got my feelers out all the time, but so far, nada.

I'm continually working the controls of the "My Double Recognition Sieve," not an actual device but a mental construct.

This sieve, like other sieves, is meant to separate out for further discernment or processes.

I hear a voice, see an attitude, detect thought processes, look for personality clues. The sieve springs into action, doing some computing.

But of course it's always, "Nope, that's not him."

Most of the time I don't even have to work the sieve, because it's obvious on the surface we're not making contact.

Anyway, blessings on my double, wherever he is this morning. I say this in kindness: "Get your head out of your @&& and look for me too."