Seas of Troubles

…

I'm confused.

How can such immorality lead to so much comfort?

Shakespeare really said it well in 'to be or not to be...' This land is indeed the land of outrageous fortune, and I do indeed exist in the land of a sea of troubles.

Yet shall I lay down with the immorality that exists to sustain that fortune, or is that the inherent nature of fortune?

Mayhap I would believe the latter to be the case, as how can one amass wealth if but through the exploitation of others? In the modern world, wealth is acquired at the expense of someone else.

So what of my life? I am fortunate enough to be able to contemplate these things... Yet I still struggle, and my life is the result of my force of self in sustaining it, nothing further. Everything that's resulted from it is exampled within my life, by that I have taken arms against my sea of troubles, for how is it possible to live in comfort and wealth without exploitation?

My dignity intact, yet indeed I do still suffer. It is less of a suffering than if I were to enjoy the luxurious life. Can I bear to live in a world where I am exploited, or I am the exploiter?

I don't think I could bear to live as an exploiter, so that really only gives me one path that I will follow, but I do have the choice, and I guess that choice is where character comes in.

So my character is indeed to stand against that sea of troubles, against injustice, against harm, against cruelty, against negligence. I keep fighting it, even as I live within it.

- Jason

Ranting Madness to Retain Sanity

So, I'm here, in West Palm Beach, waiting for pickup from my ex. What a horrible situation to be in... I feel like a slave. In a lot of ways I am, the state legitimized my indeturement to my ex, so I am a slave, or at least an indentured servant.

Oh not in any traditional way, the only actual exchange in this formal arrangement is money, but still, how does one get money? Through job. Through work. Ergo, indentured servitude/slavery.

Forget what society is doing, why did she do this? It still befuddles me, was she truly so weak of a person that she only cares for easement in her life? This was the most convenient way to exploit me, to be sure. She has the resources of three people at her disposal. One by choice, one by action, and one (me) by coercion and deception.

That's a mark that will bear on her soul for all time, and that makes me feel relieved, that justice will, somehow, be served. My astute sense of social justice screams outrage in this situation. My whole being isn't justice, and I cannot taint myself in the name of justice to force a balance. It's a horrible situation, but here I am...

So, what do I do going forward? Hamlet said it best... 'To be or not to be. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or take arms against a sea of troubles.' I have indeed found my sea of troubles.

Yet is my situation indicative of problems beyond me? My problems aren't just me, but they are shared with everyone I come in contact with. Not only that, but as a part of the social mechanism, it can't, by its very nature, be just me. So, my problem is the world's problem. But more than that, everyone else s problem is mine. This I have no objection to, that is the way of social systems. That is the price of unity (-:

I accept responsibility for my brothers and sisters, for my animal and plant friends, for the rocks, the clouds, the ocean, for the moon, and the stars, and all other things in the universe.

I guess that's why this happens, my awareness of these things is what builds them to the climactic penultimate: taking arms against a sea of troubles. Troubles from all angles, within and without. My own psyche is eating me away, slowly. I just hope that I can contribute to the world in some meaningful way before it breaks down completely.

- Jason

Holding Compassion and Justice Together?

I find myself in a strange place in regards to my divorce, holding both compassion and justice together, side by side. They bicker with each other occasionally, as they often encourage contrasting courses of action. It's a weird sense though. I feel like I'm in some kind of irreconcilable conflict with myself.

In trying to make sense of it I keep going back to the Kabbalistic shattered vessel, in that my divorce shattered my reality, and my self-identity, into disparate parts, justice, compassion, and others (though justice and compassion have the strongest voices). I wonder if my desire to re-boot my life through graduate school isn't really just my attempt to re-build those disparate parts into something new, and hopefully better.

It's funny, that seems selfish and frivolous in some ways, as if I'm doing this just for myself. And that wouldn't be an unfair assessment either, yet one of my goals from graduate school is to build my knowledge and skills to advocate for my community, which is laudable, in a more typical moralistic context.

Again, another contrast to hold. If one's goals are sub-consciously directed by self-interest, but consciously directed by benefiting others, what's the root here? Or is it within this balance, of self-interest and helping others, that harmony is found? Perhaps to be truly capable this contrast must be hold together?

Then, what of, in a larger sense, is my moral nature? My morals are built on the conscious idea that their precepts and dictates are of the benefit of others, not me, yet I selfishly hold strict to them. Many would see this is as an unhealthy balance, that I should have both my conscious and sub-conscious mind in harmony, yet the Kabbalistic tree of life speaks differently.

The tree of life is a balance of opposite forces, of passivity and activity, of femininity and masculinity, of harmony and chaos. Why cannot I find my path through these balancing extremes? Isn't that inherent in the Kabbalistic natural world?

Or maybe I'm just finding religious precepts to cling to in order to justify myself.

Food for thought...

- Jason

Justice: Linking Old with New

In looking over my older posts I see I've taken a divergence since incorporating Sacred Therapy into the mix. I've defaulted to the traditional notion of justice. This is most prominent in my previous post (7/31/11), so I've decided to try and address this issue somewhat.

Getting back to my earliest posts, justice can be punitive or compensation. these are it's primary modes of expression, either affecting the affector (punitive) or the affected (compensatory). Justice includes judgement, discernment and balance. Justice is an equalizing force, creating equivalence. Yet what of the connection between justice and determinism? Doesn't determinism have all of the same characteristics of justice in this case? Determinisim, as best described (again here) by Newton's third law of motion, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Determinism requires discernment - what was the actor and the acted on - and both punitive and compensatory expression - what is the affect of this action on the actor (punitive) and the acted on (compensatory). The only difference I can see is that justice strives to return acted on objects to a non-acted space, Newtonian physics is about acting as change.

Strangely enough, traditional justice is much more like pre-Newtonian physics, where the assumption was that all objects default to a state of rest unless acted on by outside force.

Taking this a step further, if justice were to truly parallel Newtonian physics, then justice's objective would be to determine the new path after the affect, not to return the affector/affected to a stationary position.

Let's take this a step further (or several) though. Let's look at quantum physics. Now we have multiple probabilistic outcomes based on the observer. Let's, for the same of argument, think of justice as the observer here. Justice is still here to determine the effect of affector and affectee interaction, but instead the interaction is predicated on how justice manifests the quantum probabilities. Justice plays an active role in determining the outcome.

What happens when justice is based on probability instead of determinism?

Now, here's the major mind-warp. What happens when God, as justice (probability-based) runs up against the compassionate human?

I think my metaphor brain just melted...

- Jason

Viewing the Good With the Bad: A Quasi-Religious Perspective

Author's Notice: I apologize in advance for any religious or scientific fundamentalists I will probably alienate with this post. I'm going to be using a rather liberal metaphorical interpretation of God in this post.

So... I finished reading Sacred Therapy, and the part that's stuck with me the most is in asking God for forgiveness to sinners. Effectively advocating for those that have done wrong. This is a phenomenally contradictory concept, especially for my social justice oriented self. I'm a proponent of balance and justice, yet I also hold that compassion is a vital component to these. Compassion seems to be out-of-balance from these concepts. Yet from another perspective it's compassion that balances out justice.

Using biblical reference, there's many cases where God has unleashed his holy retribution by wiping out, maiming, messing with, or otherwise making human life miserable. There's other situations where prophetic humans have stayed God's wrath through compassionate advocacy. It begs the question how the bible would end if there was no compassion in God... Not well I imagine.

Yet the source of compassion isn't really seen as in God, but in human power. As we stand between justice and those deserving reciprocity, is that not an act of faith on some level? Another human being has shown their evil, harm and destructive capacity on the world and we, in our complete faith in them, stand between them and God to advocate for compassion.

Now, the bible consists of stories where this compassion is returned by reformation and atonement on the part of those we show compassion to. The real world isn't quite as forgiving. However, I would argue that these stories aren't about the world around us, but about the world within us. Let's spend some time in the metaphorical world of our inner landscape, where all beings are aspects of ourselves. God, in this case, is the judgement and justice, our sense of fairness. The 'harmful' person, the victim of our judgement, is ultimately ourself in vulnerability and weakness, for being hurt in the way we were.Our judgement is condemning ourself for being weak and allowing such harm to be inflicted.

This is where our compassion steps in. By shielding ourself in our vulnerability from our judgement we give ourself the space to heal, to reform, and to atone (to become at one).

I have found this personally helpful with my divorce. I have deep and painful wounds from my ex wife. Some of which she continues to inflict. I am not strong enough to protect myself from receiving these wounds, and I do judge myself for not doing so. In a surprisingly profound symbolic act, I began 'protecting' my ex from God, by asking for God's forgiveness and compassion for my ex. In doing so, I embodied all of the aspects of compassion I have within myself, and was able to converse with my judgement. This dialog, though unresolved, has helped me to meld both my compassion and my judgement into a unified vision of my ex.

It's also helped alleviate many of the panic attacks I was suffering in regards to my ex.

Not that I don't still think of my ex, but if we go back to the metaphor, then it's really my compassion sheltering and caring for my vulnerable self while moderating my judgement. It's... not what I would expect from a Judaic perspective, but then again Kabbalah isn't your average Judaism (-:

So, I find myself a little more whole thanks to a liberal metaphorical interpretation of the bible.

Funny how things go sometimes, eh?

- Jason

Perfection and Imperfection

I can see that Estelle Frankel's Sacred Therapy is going to be a staplehold of this blog for awhile. If nothing else it has breathed new life into it.

Perfection: Though I have always understood that my perfection lies in my imperfection, and my continual desire for improvement, I have always held that things outside of me are perfect. The universe is perfect. All things are perfect. The system I live within is perfect.  Yet with the absurdity of which my perfect universe has been stretched, it is hard to hold on to that perfect universe image. I cannot hold out for a lost hope that the universe will balance itself in my stead. I don't do that with friends or family, I won't do that with the universe.

So then, what is left to me? I could take balance in my own hands, become a crusader for balance and correct the imbalances in the universe. This would be no different than internalizing perfection, and then projecting it outward (instead of the opposite, which I have been doing). Or, I can find some peace that the universe is as broken as I am, and it, and all things in it, are laying on the floor, shattered by being dropped, or falling, from it's once mighty place.

Justice is balance, justice is equilibrium, justice is a perfect universe. If that is so, what is an imperfect universe? Does it lack justice, or is justice simply broken, like everything else?

In the perfect universe, Newton's three laws of motion apply. Namely the third: Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. The universe balances perfectly. Yet as an irony, nothing in the universe would form if it was perfect. Stars and planets formed because of inconsistent distributions of matter from the big bang. Imperfection gave birth to stars, planets, and life. Can the universe really be so perfect?

I guess that's part of exploring it, finding the cracks.

- Jason

Legacy vs. Future

I'm in the process of reading Sacred Therapy by Estelle Frankel, and her story of divorce struck me, perhaps too profoundly, as another story of a women's choice to leave her partner. I am becoming profoundly triggered by these stories, and the lack of regard that these women show to their former partners. Perhaps it's the lack of responsibility that I see them take for their choices. Often these 'changes' are viewed as a rebirthing for the woman, a reformation of their lives. Does this qualify dismissing the past which created this rebirth?

My mind goes several places with this notion. Firstly, to Frank Herbert's Dune. "Every revolution carries within it the seeds of it's own destruction." The choice to break a family is much like overthrowing a government, and often takes a 'ends justify means' approach. What does this say of the quality of the revolutionaries though? If the idea is to free from tyranny, then should not the method be free from tyranny? It strikes me as undirected change, no more.

Yet that is one avenue of exploration. One that both my wounded ego and my sense of justice are quite fond of, but just one nonetheless. Another avenue is to look at my own hypocracy in stating that our origins should be respected and considered. What births us helps to define us.

I am not a person who respects tradition for it's own sake. I do not believe that doing something because it's been done is a legitimate reason to continue doing it. Yet is not tradition a respect for where we come from? Does it not pay homage to what allows us to stand today, as the people we are? A recognition of our fore-bearers who's efforts allowed us to make the choices we do today? I criticize these women for lacking this recognition, yet I do not recognize it myself? This is hypocracy at it's finest and I am it's purveyor.

As I continued my reading, the focus of the book was on how to deal with traumatic 'heart breaking' experiences. My mind goes towards the question of the difference between the woman and the man in the aforementioned situations. Frankel, as do many other women, speak as if their decisions were not under their control, yet they were the initiators of the heartbreaking circumstances. When speaking of the unfairness that the world inflicts on oneself, is it appropriate to include damages that are self-inflicted? Is the process of healing the same for when you plunge the dagger into yourself instead of when the dagger is plunged into you from someone else?

One aspect of Judaism, learned from class, that I really connected with was the idea of days where harms should be rectified, through actions and not just words. Coming from my situation it easy for me to say that, and to wish for that, yet the authenticity from which that desire stems from is tainted by my experiences and wish for justice. I cannot say with an unbiased mind that I would truly want that kind of world.

Yet I do live that kind of world, for what that kind of world depicts is a world where thought and action are one. If you feel bad for something then you fix it, or make amends. One of my most extolled virtues is how purely myself I live. It's not just about saying the words, I live the words. I am the words. If I speak of my regrets and failures, I work to fix them and the harm they've done.

*sigh*

But I guess the real question is, like Jesus, how do I turn the other cheek in my soul?

- Jason

Modern Commitment

The modern nightmare word in relationships, yet the definition holds both restrictive and liberative aspects to it:

• 1 the state or quality of being dedicated to a cause, activity, etc.:the company's commitment to quality
• a pledge or undertaking:I cannot make such a commitment at the moment
• 2 (usually commitments) an engagement or obligation that restricts freedom of action:business commitmentsyoung people delay major commitments including marriage and children

The knee-jerk reaction to this word in modern relationships is to flee. The irony of relationship commitment is that a person who doesn't commit is looked down on, yet commitment is considered scary. This is quite a conundrum, and worth some cognitive dissonance. On a social level, commitment goes against the independent-minded ideology of the modern world. Yet what has such an attitude really helped in? Are people really better people for it?

Decidedly not. There's a growing trend of isolation in the modern world. Where people distance themselves from others, from their friends and family. Yet our society is surprised by the level of isolation we, as a collective culture, feel.

Going back to the definition of commitment: Dedication to a cause is very profound, and signifies a strength that isn't inherent in the second definition. dedication brings to mind inspirational images, such as knights in service to their lord. In contrast to a restriction of freedom, which brings to mind a typical marriage expression of 'ball and chain.'

So, how do these two definitions reconcile? That would depend on the individual, and how they handle cognitive dissonance. In our modern society. This traces back to the cultural influences. Since we live in a culture that prides independence and self-sufficiency over community, dissonance tends to favor the latter definition, not the former.

This American Life

http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/433/fine-print-2011

Act 4.

I wonder what my daughter will think when she's grown up...

Emotional Damage

How does one evaluate emotional damage? Or, perhaps a better question, what is emotional damage?

So, I Google emotional damage, and come across this: http://helpguide.org/mental/emotional_psychological_trauma.htm.

Emotional symptoms of trauma:

Shock, denial, or disbelief Anger, irritability, mood swings Guilt, shame, self-blame Feeling sad or hopeless

Confusion, difficulty concentrating Anxiety and fear Withdrawing from others Feeling disconnected or numb

Yes, I would say my divorce brought in all of those traits to me. But wait, there's more:

"These symptoms and feelings typically last from a few days to a few months, gradually fading as you process the trauma. But even when you’re feeling better, you may be troubled from time to time by painful memories or emotions—especially in response to triggers such as an anniversary of the event or an image, sound, or situation that reminds you of the traumatic experience."

Gradually fading, but recurring from time to time. What if the recurrence is without prompt? What then? My mind is inherently processotory and will think of things. My emotional symptoms are invasive and intrusive in what I'm doing. I also know I'm unique among people in that I can handle extreme emotions with grace and ease. I can be going through all of those symptoms and only the most astute observer would notice it. So then what is the harm? In the outside world, little to none, it just takes some effort to keep things in check. Elsewhere? I am writing this at 4:30am after reading on Florida's child support/custody laws because I was panicking. If I had to surmise: were I ever to return to an intimate 'primary' relationship, I would be panicking to my partner. This has the potential to affect my relationships.

After digging through the conditions a bit more, I'd say the one that most closely relates to my experience is panic disorder (per http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Panic_disorder), though generalized anxiety disorder (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Generalized_anxiety_disorder) is a close match too. If there were a way to hybridize them, that'd nicely reflect me state.

What is it when you have recurring panic thoughts about your situation, specifically relating to the sheer level of injustice suffered? The specificity of my panic attacks is consistent with panic disorder, but the lack of an external trigger is consistent with generalized anxiety disorder. Maybe a generalized panic disorder? Of course this is overblown in some ways, as these attacks don't inhibit my ability to function in society. I would say they inhibit my ability to be a full functioning emotional being.

But is this emotional damage? Trauma, yes, I would say the evidence of that is clear. Emotional damage though? I had a conversation with my dad awhile ago about his feelings with his divorce. Though he's basically emotionally healed from it, he still has moments where it 'gets to him,' in much the same way that mine gets to me. That's a permanent change to the neurology of the brain. My dad's divorce is 15 years old, and it still comes back to him.

Is it damage though? The OED version is only physical though, with the following criteria: "harm caused to something in such a way as to impair its value, usefulness, or normal function." Well, let's translate this to emotional harm. Well, we have three potential scales to work with, let's take them one at a time.

Value: Relevant OED Definition - " the regard that something is held to deserve; the importance, worth, or usefulness of something"

Are my panic attacks degrading my importance, worth or usefulness? Well, not my usefulness or worth, as I'm still capable of functioning in the world it doesn't affect my practical ability or my financial saliability (though other aspects of my divorce do affect my finances).

What of my importance? Since this is the only metric that's not tied to something practical (ability to get something done with usefulness, or monetary translation with worth), assessing importance is quite subjective. For example, the following argument can be made: In the dating/relationship market, panic attacks are a liability, being seen as having 'baggage.' My importance is therefore compromised in that arena. The general consensus is that a woman doesn't want 'damaged goods' in her man, yet my panic attacks make that damage real, or at least have the potential (as mentioned earlier) to make it real.

Usefulness: Relevant OED Definition - "the quality or fact of being useful" Useful: "able to be used for a practical purpose or in several ways"

This has already been covered in value, but let's look at it again. I really don't believe this criteria applies, as my panic attacks do not inhibit my ability to be of practical purpose. I can still work at full productivity. I can still do academic work at the same capacity as before. I can still perform all my regular tasks (laundry, driving, using a computer, etc.) at the same level. I just don't see any impact on use.

Normal: Relevant OED Definition - "conforming to a standard ; usual, typical, or expected" Function: "an activity or purpose natural to or intended for a person or thing"

First, let's fuse these words into a singular meaning to use. To normalize function, said activity/purpose must be predictable. 'usual, typical, or expected' things are predictable. Therefore a normalized function is consistent through time, and not just an inherent part of the person/thing.

If there's any of these criteria I can work with, it's this one. Sheerly by writing blog entries on my divorce (especially at 4:30am) I'm showing a shift in my activity. My leisure activity has changed as well, consisting of different forms of leisure. My purpose has shifted too, away from a family-focus and towards an academic-focus. This stuff is disputable to impairment, however...

There's one more shift that will nail this. My panic attacks are invasive. They require me to, consciously, put effort into maintaining my function. This is a behavior that limits the full range of my mental ability. It doesn't affect what I do because my regular activities don't take that much from my mental capacity, but it *does* limit my mental ability. I think that's quintessential impairment.

So, have I suffered emotional damage? Somewhat. Through my reduced value on the relationship/dating market, and the invasiveness of my panic attacks, there's indication that I have suffered emotional damage. My dad's experience shows that the relationship/dating value is temporary, or negligible, but that the panic attack invasiveness may be a permanent aspect.

I'm not sure if this would hold up to legal scrutiny, but I think I have at least some basis for argument here.

Regardless, I do feel comfortable saying that I've suffered emotional damage, and it seems to be a permanent damage.

So then, tracing back to my discussions on justice, what is compensation for that damage? What can compensate for emotional damage? That's a tough one... especially since it's a permanent condition. I really don't know. My mind traces back to financial reimbursement, but that would need to be sustained for the rest of my life (or at least as long as the damage is present, likely the rest of my life). Somehow that seems to fall flat as a compensation.

Yet I can't think up anything else...

On Being a Long-Distance Parent

The bulk of child development research claims that a parent needs to be present through the growth and development of a child. Children who don't have that connection end up with many risk factors, such as delinquency, intimacy and trust issues, instability, and a propensity for certain mental disorders. I won't dispute the research results, but I will point out one major bias in the results: The research framework is mono-normative (for more on mono-normativity, check out my other blog at http://non-monodiscourse.blogspot.com/). The results get boxed into normative ideas of family structure, with monogamy on one end and absenteeism/infidelity on the other. As much as more conservative elements would love to testify to the rightness of this structure, the reality is different, more nuanced. Family structure is a shifting, dynamic thing.

I am a long-distant parent. My year-and-a-half old daughter is on the other side of the country, being raised by my ex and her boyfriend. I do have contact with my daughter, weekly video conferencing and whatnot. It's been like this since last year, before my daughter's first birthday. I find it hard to delineate the bias advice of child development professionals from my personal feelings. I miss my daughter, and six months into her life I was torn out of it. I'm still suffering from that, and issues of injustice around it (see earlier posts in this blog). I think those feelings are getting mixed up with the common child development mantras, where a part of me says that I need to get my daughter back, so she can grow up with her father in her life.

Yet the validity of the arguments in that research are questionable at best, because of the bias. The cool rational part of me objects to the lack of study in unconventional parenting situations for children. The assumption is there's some sort of genetic connection between parent and child. My question is what validity is there in that assumption? Is it a culturally or biologically based connection? I would argue cultural.

So then, with my daughter being cared for by my ex and her boyfriend, who are (by and large) mimicking the traditional normative family (at least where my daughter is concerned) what does it matter how involved I am in her life? I don't believe by absence is harmful, so why do I need to capitulate to a confused jumble of emotion and bias reasoning?

Society would have me do that though. Norms are powerful, and many people capitulate to the 'rightness' of them.

So, what next then? It's always in the back of my mind, the invalidated normative reasons. Always something I can use, like some kind of NBC weapon, coming with it's own slew of ethical consequences for it's use. Is it a path I could ever take? Like our own government, detesting it's existence, yet holding on to it 'just in case.' Do I hold the same path, easing a part of my sub-consciousness by keeping a weapon in the closet I hope never to use, and would hate myself for using?

The ethicality of it is very grey, especially when my justice/vengeance feelings get mixed up in it. Clarity becomes challenging. Rationality almost impossible. Thankfully I have a very rational mind, that sees logic and reason as the foundation to my understandings, and builds feelings off of that (usually).

Being human is being imperfect, and I am indeed imperfect in how my emotions work. My reasoning is strong, but my emotions are flawed, as they should be.

On Ethics and Self-Interest

Welcome to the 'real world', where self-interest dominates. This makes sense as we are in an independent idealizing culture. Community is not recognized, empathy is pushed away, external responsibility is shunned. In contrast to tribal structures that honor the group, where the individual is not alone and is a part of a network.


Self-Interest rules in today's world because of our drive for independence. Independence is the refuting of connection between ourselves and others. It serves as an excuse to ignore the suffering and plight of others, to justify doing things that benefit ourselves at others expense. Independence is used in such a way that mimics fears about social Darwinism. Social Darwinism can be used to justify atrocities against others by dictating what their natural place is. It serves as a reason to turn a blind eye towards the homeless because it conjures up an excuse - that they evolved to be homeless and are a part of the social ecosystem as such. Independence suffers from the same folly in today's world.


Because of this, society has mandated laws that force the connections that we burn away. Yet the laws can only force the responsibility, and those laws are not case-sensitive. Laws reflect a more traditional normative on what is responsible behavior, regardless of the affected individuals views on the topic. In it's own way, laws serve to replace interdependent culture, by replacing the now missing responsibilities we used to hold to each other. Because of this, society is able to hold together and we can hold on to our delusions that independence is the penultimate achievement of the human condition. Through that hegemonic normative structure, we advantage self-interest, by creating structures, laws, beliefs and ideologies that advantage self-interest.


So, when society advantages self-interest, then what happens to the individual, or even the community's, ethical distinctions? Could it be that ethics takes the form of self-interest? That people begin to define their ethical parameters based on self-interest? I would argue yes. Consider how easy it is to relate to self-interest. It's easy to understand the reasons why someone would argue for a pay raise, especially in a recession. How is that anything but self-interest? We, as a society avoid making 'hard' choices because hard choices aren't self-interested choices.


What does that say about the ethical foundation of independence then? Oh sure people will talk about an ethic of compassion, of what is the most beneficial for the most people, etc etc. How often do people stick with it when their self-interest is threatened? Would you quit your job if it would save two others from loosing theirs?


More importantly, what does that say of those who choose to stand outside of the ethical norm of self-interest, those who live in active defiance of valuing their interests over others. We are punished, as the structures that exist are based on the self-interest norm, laws and social patterns are based on what is of personal benefit. Consider in my case with my divorce: I had the, proverbial, ammunition to cripple my ex, I could have gotten my daughter back and crippled her with support payments for the next 18 years. To do it I would have had to lie, and drudge up things out of context, and hurt one of my friends in the process. It was all possible, and it was the sensible thing to do, the legally viable thing to do. Society would have congratulated me for it, the legal system encouraged it.


Instead, since my ethics are not dictated by self-interest I took a different route, one of vulnerability. I showed trust and compassion. I had faith. Yet the system is what it is, and my ex decided on a self-interested path. She took my daughter from me and indentured me to her. I was punished for having an ethic that wasn't self-interest. I was socially chastised for taking the 'easy way', which I would argue any day about the 'ease' of my choice. Stories like mine are hardly uncommon in today's world. It's reflective of the punishment that individuals suffer when they aren't self-interested.


In a larger sense, however, it's appropriate. Those, like myself, that truly live beyond self-interest, welcome life's challenges. We aren't just looking for comfort and some illusion of security, we are looking for something beyond what we are told is right. In my case, I am looking for justice (hence my exploration of it). That I am not challenge-adverse is almost a metaphorical invitation for society to throw it's challenges at me. And boy how it does. Being polyamorous isn't enough, I also have to live my life from a different ethical standard too (-: In a way, though, these challenges have tested, tried, and molded me into a validation of my ethical disposition. I am not a self-interested individual, I have shown that through my actions, not just my words. My character is validated through the trials of my life.


It's not much, personal validation counts for little, but in a world that tries to disown you because you believe in different things than others do, it will have to suffice.

Why is Life so Hard?

“Why is life so hard?” I typed into Google this morning. I got a few interesting results, but regardless, the point was more about why I wanted to know the answer to that question. It’s not a hard one to answer, there’s answer’s aplenty out there, oodles to choose from, and one as good as another.

Perhaps that’s the problem though, because there are so many answers. Our society respects the legitimacy offered by the ‘one true answer’ (kind of like the one true god, Moses anyone? Or should I say Cylons?). Yet here we have a question that has a multitude of answers, human answers; A humanist’s proverbial orgy.

Do I need to find only one answer to that question? Is it important enough to ask again and again to find that answer? Does it even exist? Why am I not content with the answers I have? Perhaps a better question for that is why am I not content with the life I have? Even with all the crap I’ve been through, I do have a pretty good life. I have a reliable job (though a bit shaky at the moment, that will pass), a good living arrangement, great co-workers, a g/f, fierce intelligence, lots of capability, etc etc. What is it that’s not being satisfied by my current life?

I dream of graduate school, it consumes much of my spare thinking process. When I’m not focused on work or school or other crap that comes up in my life, it’s about graduate school. I peruse the websites for the schools I’m applying to and swoon, it feels wonderful to think of it. Lots of hard, intellectually demanding work with nothing to get in the way aside from what I put there. Nothing easy about it, I’ll need to do grunt work too, probably even more menial stuff than I do nowadays in some cases. Plus the hassles of still living a life in graduate school (I.E. dealing with possibly moving every year, eating enough, finding time to sleep, etc.). I’m looking forward to this.

What is it about this more demanding, less appreciated, less financially rewarding life is it that inspires me? I suppose it’s not about me when it comes down to it. That life gives me the chance to really do something to help a world full of people. My schooling ms my advocacy training. The end result will be me, but as a formidably powerful advocate for polyamorists.

Is that selflessness? Is that what it means to be selfless, to be so driven, so inspired, so motivated, not by a lifestyle, not by money (a master’s has a better $ return ratio), not by comfort, or anything else that would benefit me. I’m giving up the comfortable life here to pursue this. Is that selflessness? To give up one’s life in the service of others, willingly and gladly?

I wonder then, would selfishness be to give up one’s life for self interest, or to give up nothing to the service of others? Which occupies selfishness? Strange to define a concept so alien to me. It’s like jealousy. I can’t understand it. Both selfishness and jealousy make logical rational sense, but I don’t feel them, I’m not drawn to them, there’s nothing there to compel me to be either.

I guess, though, I’ve strayed from my original question. Why is life so hard?

Maybe it’s because I believe it is. But then again maybe, it’s because of all the other reasons, as well.

No absolutes with my thinking today (-:

An Analysis of Compensation

          In my previous writing I discovered that justice can include compensation, instead of just retribution. In knowing this, the edge of my emotional sledgehammer is dulled, a bit. Yet justice is still strong in me. It will accept compensation for what has happened, but not promises of future compensation. The justice I hold inside exists as a swift mechanism, it does not brook delay, as that adds to suffering and increases the level of compensation required to offset the injustice.

          So I look now at an assessment of what I have lost, and what I have gained, through this situation. Perhaps somewhere in all of this I can provide justice with *something*, even if badly insufficient, to compensate for the injustice here.

          In a physical sense, I have lost my wife and my daughter. I lost the image of the life I had, and my plans for the future. I have lost the opportunity to be a father and parent. The emotional toll has been excruciating as well. I lost trust in another human being, the emotional connection I have with my ex is now tainted so badly that I have to restrain myself from vomiting whenever I feel it. I lost a sense of purpose and direction; I lost a degree of self-respect. I lost dignity, despite how little I value my own dignity I still lost a great deal of it. I lost, oh how I lost, financially. I have a long-term financial restraint put on me for the next 17 years, indenturing me to my ex for that time. I lost a great sense of myself.

          What have I gained since? I have learned new methods of finding the love and compassion around me. I have a sense of community with fellow men, who have suffered through these things along with me. I have a girlfriend who admires the strength and resilience that I have. I have purpose, vision, a goal, a drive, and something to take pride in.

          It’s not enough to satisfy justice. As I realized in my previous writing, justice includes acknowledgement; a larger sense that an injustice has occurred; a degree of validation by a higher power. No validation has been received yet, and justice struggles with this. I can see myself as morally upstanding through this experience, yet that is not enough for justice. I can acknowledge what I have gained within myself, yet that is not enough. I can understand that this experience has grown me, improved me, refined me and bettered me, but justice still does not relent.

          It occurs to me that what justice is seeking is compassion. Not a compassion of words, but compassion of action; exampled by myself through my own choices, of risking myself for others because of compassion; compassion in actions. Much like the knight, I have risked myself, in action, to elate others, and when I am knocked down I am given words to rebuild myself on, justice tells me. Justice, by far, values actions over words.

          So then, what compensation will satisfy justice? Compassionate action in compensation for the injustice I have experienced. What would that look like? Unfortunately my speculation is limited to wanting things that are far too much to ask of anyone: Financial support, emotional and physical intimacy, encouragement towards my future. It’s a tremendous burden to ask of someone, to effectively carry me to the point where I can stand on my own two feet, and what I’ve lost here seems negligible. Asking for this feels sickening.

          Yet, justice wants what it wants. Justice is open to other ideas, but the rest of me is incapable of providing an answer for justice that is satisfactory. I suppose now it’s a matter of continuing to search within myself for acceptable compensation for what has happened.

          I suppose it’s a matter of wait-and-see. Do I have faith enough in all things that this injustice will be rectified? I truly do not know; having no specific divine entity that I can pray to, ask for guidance, forgiveness, or understanding, makes it hard. There is all things, and in a way, that is my idea of the divine. As it stands, I must put my faith in all things and believe that I am seen and heard, and treated with compassion.

I hope that is enough for justice.

Understanding Moral Outrage

          The qualitative experience of moral outrage is painful, like claws slowly ripping through my chest, at my heart, combined with a throbbing sensation in my brain. It’s an escalating sensation that amplifies with the more attention I give to it. The mental experience is more severe: I can almost hear a voice in my head screaming ‘Injustice!’ , demanding me to action. It’s an overwhelming voice, filling my mind with strategies, plans, tactics, methods, and so on. Even after I’m sick of looking at it it’s still screaming at me, filling my head with these thoughts.

          I call that voice justice.

          Is that truly justice? OED defines Justice in a few ways: 1) Just behavior or treatment. 2) The quality of being fair and reasonable. 3) The administration of the law or authority in maintaining this. In looking over these three definitions I can see them as separate parts, yet part of the same. The first describes external actions, and questions such as ‘Have I been treated justly?’. The second is more internally and motivationally driven, with questions such as ‘Was I being just in my decisions?’. The last is the balancing force, the scales of Libra, when things are not just, justice re-balances the scales.

          Then the question is, what is just? Again I go to the OED, and here’s what I find: 1) Based on or behaving according to what is morally right and fair. 2) (of treatment) deserved or appropriate in the circumstances. 3) (of an opinion or appraisal) Well founded; justifiable. So to lack justice is to lack moral rightness and fairness, to receive treatment that is not deserved or appropriate, and is not well founded. Is my internal cry of injustice indicative of these characteristics? I believe so. This is why I call that voice justice.

          Yet it is not justice alone, it is also vengeance. Again, OED: Punishment inflicted or retribution exacted for an injury or wrong. There is a social contrast between justice and vengeance, yet let’s spend a moment looking at the definitions side-by-side. I’ll use the third definition of justice as it seems to match the closest:

Justice: The administration of the law or authority in maintaining [justice].

Vengeance: Punishment inflicted or retribution exacted for an injury or wrong.

If to be treated unjustly is to be morally wronged, then it strikes me that Justice can be seen as an institution in righting those wrongs. What I can see here is justice can be punitive, which seems like a kind of vengeance; or it can be additive, which strikes me as being more akin to social welfare.

          In looking at the two definitions, it strikes me that they are like overlapping circles. Justice can be vengeance, and vengeance can be justice. It is not necessarily so, but they are not mutually exclusive, nor the black & white morality choices that mass society portrays them as.

          In understanding these distinctions I am able to better separate, within myself, the conflated justice and vengeance. I do this by asking that voice ‘would you be satisfied to receive compensation for the injustice that has been suffered here?’ Part of it says yes, as long as the compensation balanced out the level of injustice. Another part of me is still screaming at me, seeking retribution.

In having the word retribution come up, I go back to the OED: punishment that is considered to be morally right and fully deserved. This word occupies both the vengeance sphere, in being punitive, and the justice sphere, in being about moral correctness. I won’t claim that all cases that are just and vengeful are also retribution, but the correlation is ringing strongly with me.

So I question further with the voice that’s still screaming: ‘Would you be satisfied to punish in a morally correct way?’ And in a fury, the voice pronounces its agreement. Yet I find that without the backing of the purely justice driven side of me, this voice lacks the weight and character that defines me. If justice is indeed ‘just behavior or treatment’ which is ‘based on or behaving according to what is morally right and fair’ then is it morally right and fair to treat someone in a punitive manner because of the injustice I’ve suffered?

In even asking the question, justice (which I have now separated from vengeance) resounds a strong and hearty ‘NO!’ In the process of asking the question vengeance is also silenced, still raging, but silent about it.

Yet in this reflection, I now see an opening in my sense of justice, tracing back to my original question. I see a possibility of having my justice without punishing someone for it. Justice received as compensation, as a validation for my suffering, as an acknowledgement of the injustice I have suffered.

Justice as a gift to elate me.

As I think of this, I cry.

Reference - Oxford English Dictionary: http://oxforddictionaries.com/

Rainfall

And the heavens wept for the man;

Who in all his compassion, joy and love;

In all his honor, respect and dignity;

Was gives such sorrow;

Was given such sadness;

And the heavens wept.

Justice

I am a divorced father.

Like many divorced fathers my experience of divorce was emotionally traumatic and financially straining. Every father going through a divorce has a most challenging part of the process, and mine was accepting that my wife did not have my interests at heart.

I made many foolish decisions because I believed that she did, I didn’t contest the divorce, I didn’t hire an attorney. I trusted her, despite having my heart broken and my daughter taken from me. My commitment to the goodness of humanity is so powerful as to overwhelm my ability to make intelligent decisions.

The result is that my wife had a strong position in the divorce. I received little, and I gave much. Ironically this paralleled our marriage. In many ways I am now in indentured service to my wife for 18 years.

The true depth of my tragedy is not just in how my good will and charity were so badly misused and exploited; it is found in the system that allowed for my charity and good will to be exploited. In many ways I personified the ideal father and husband, even through divorce. I was compassionate and caring, I was respectful and accommodating, I was understanding. I took the hard road of maintaining my civility and respect through the process, despite the circumstances and emotional pain I felt.

My heart screams injustice: I was abandoned unilaterally. I was told that I wasn’t worth the effort. I had my daughter taken from me. And later on, I had my daughter used as a weapon against me. Yet the outside world tells me that I must be punished in the name of justice. This is a painful contrast for me to hold. In addition to the personal burden of the betrayal I suffered I am now indentured to the source of that suffering.

I have acted in the best ways that society has told me, and now society is telling me that I must pay a price for being noble, virtuous and compassionate. This is the system we today call justice. Is this truly just? If I cannot receive justice, if other men cannot receive justice, just so women can receive it, is this truly justice?

I will not shift the responsibility of my wife’s decisions and behavior away from her. She is responsible for what she has done. She alone will have to live with the pain, suffering, and injustice she has caused me. The system, however, will have to live with the responsibility of allowing her to be that injust, to me and many other men.

As a divorced father, society has asked us to take a terrible burden. Society has asked us to give up our right to justice so that women can have theirs. Is it just to be forced to staying in a relationship that you don’t want to be in? No. Is it just to indenture that person to you to get out of that relationship? No. Our society doesn’t allow for these injustices to both be addressed simultaneously. And through these injustices shapes the mold of what it is today to be a divorced father.

I am a divorced father.