The Brain and The Soul.

For some reason I thought this would be more challenging. It's not. I've crushed these questions. Pondered them. Tackled them. Struggled with them. Destroyed myself over them. Instead of challenging, it was too easy. At this point I think it's pocket philosophy for people who don't study philosophy and a way to engage them in wanting to philosophize. I'm being a snob and for good reason. I'm not 18 and completely impressionable. I'm almost 25 and I've had enough experience and grueling introspection to no longer be so impressionable. I think critically of everything. Some ideas take more thought than others. These questions just weren't challenging enough. So it lacked in epistemology, but maybe not in other fields. I'm thinking this is definitely pseudo-psychology disguised in pretty garb. I will finish this project, but it feels like it won't take long.

I have been unable to do the first challenges. One being that it's the prairies and it's winter. No one shovels the snow here. Secondly, I waited too late in the evening to even be able to people watch while listening to a playlist to connect me with others....

My personal challenge: don't do the dishes. Let chaos reign. An excuse to ignore the sink littered in dishes. If only dishes no longer existed in their need to be washed to be reused. If only it were like The Jetson's and technology did all the heavy lifting. 

Goodnight and wish that this book becomes more intellectually or personally challenging for me.

The Embarkment of Soulpancake or Selfsandwich

I'm always thinking about some project, something I can create and something to commit to since commitment isn't my strong point. Loyalty and commitment are not the same thing. Loyalty is more of an obligation, but one done out of free will. I digress... I've been watching Conan. I am super behind in my episodes. On Friday I watched the episode where Rainn Wilson is a guest. Mr. Wilson was on the show to promote his book Soulpancake. I liked the discussion and thought I would check it out. I ended up buying the book yesterday. I've barely made it through the intro as I wanted to blog about the experience; as a project. One that is creative, spiritual and philosophical. Which are all "things" I highly value above all else. Though I lack any real commitment. Which I think is based solely on inspiration. I just happen to have inspiration that is short on fuel. This Soulpancake may be the motivation I need. 
A quote from the book: I believe art and it's expression are the same as faith and it's expression. Science, too, for that matter. And quite frankly, everything that urges us to create, to love, to think deeply, to breathe in the moment, to be of service, to be human. They are all different expressions of some divine, creative energy that longs to radiate out and away from the trappings of close-hearted, selfish, animal materialism.
This is so well written, in an objective way. Something I sometimes lack in myself. But that's okay. All subjective experiences lose it's personal meaning in it's translation amongst others. It's hard to radiate something that which translation distorts. As an expression it becomes something other than what it originally was. Maybe that's what's my problem. I don't like the translation. The medium in which to express it is so deeply insufficient in capturing exactly how it feels and how I feel. How the thoughts become something beyond the thought itself. Beyond the body, yet coming from the only source from which it came. As much as I agree with the quote, so do I disagree. We are material beings. Animal beings. What we create and where it is created from comes from the physical. Creativity is organic. It is not from some separate source outside the physical, it is physical. It is a physical thing. Something tangible. Something graspable and at hand. Because it seems so rightly "divine" it must be from something outside of our animal bodies. This one quote has sparked hundreds of thoughts in just seconds. Neurons firing, multiple processes running at the exact same time. It blows my mind.
On Christmas Day, J played me a video of a classical composer whom she admires. The music was beautiful. In listening to the music I was engrossed by the entire process of this creation. One process of the music itself. The fundamental process of how we experience sound and how we hear it, and how what we hear is so fundamentally different to every other non-human. That beautiful sound we hear, richness of tone, inflection of notes, melodies, pauses and breaks and so on, are uniquely human. Without the physical, we would be unable to hear it. Without the mechanics of the ear, that catches vibrations in such a way that doesn't distort it, is simply incredible. These musical beings hear noise in their head that is  completely internalized, and they externalize it. I wonder if what they "hear" in their head is what comes out if them, through their fingers, represented by a symbolic language of musical notes, that other people can read, and play that same sound. Even the brilliance of the engineering of a piano. The piano itself as an object. As physical thing. I can't even articulate all my thoughts into text. Text is 2D. These thoughts are of a different dimension. As I said about translation, it just can't quite capture my experience of it. Maybe someday in my life, it could be a possibility. Because what I think and experience isn't translatable in an objectionable way that is sufficient in capturing everything, what is the point of creating something that is no where near as complex as what I feel and see? I don't know how people work around this obstacle. Maybe they're not thinking about it, that's why they aren't hindered by all the noise because they only "hear" one thing at a time.
I never realized this was a problem for me until university. I read an Edgar Allen Poe short story about a cat being put into a wall. When I wrote the essay, I thought "this is amazing." I got the essay back and it was everything less than amazing. I got a "pass" on it but just barely. I cried. I bawled my eyes out. How I experienced the ideas and how they came out of me through my arm, and hand, pencil and paper was incoherent. But when I wrote it it made perfect sense to me. When I typed it out it made perfect sense to me. When I reread and edited it, it made perfect sense to me. When I got the paper back and saw the grade and spoke with my professor about the paper, the body of work made no sense to me. It was utterly incoherent. My lack of objectivity of my subjectivity was apparent. And was for a lot of my university experience. As I wrote more papers, my writing became more clear, but only out of my desire to get better grades. To write what I knew my professors would grade with a mark I could accept or be proud of. But because I wrote my thoughts with that objective in mind, that streaming subjective consciousness of mine was compromised. Discussion and the act of discussing requires being fluent in the art of dialect - in dialogue. All things I lack in expressing. Like a block. A block which I can't move. Technically because everything I create, produce, think, dream, "see" and "hear" are physical things, this block too is a physical thing. Maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to push past that block.
I've had enough of sharing. The philosophy will have to wait for another day. It is my intention to start Soulpancake tonight. To embark on a journey of Rainn Wilson's Soulpancake. In the first creative exercise, I created Selfsandwich. Which makes more sense to me than Soulpancake which is linguistically and syntax-wise an attractive thing to read and hear, but doesn't quite express the consumption of self and whatnot into a completely nonsensical word that somehow makes sense. Just like the "word" absentmindedness, which means only one thing, yet the two words by themselves mean a different thing. So I am going to tackle the sandwich of self.
Cheers.

Burnt Thumbs and All

I've run out of matches, and for some reason lighters just don't work for lighting candles that aren't new. This has resulted in me burning my fingers for the last few days.In fact I've had a lot of burning in the last couple days. Even when I've been cooking I've burnt my fingers on the handles. Just a whole lot of burning going on in my life.

I ruined my New Years yesterday. I tried to put myself together for a party, but I lost myself again. I don't think I drunk a whole bottle of champagne... but it's possible. The last time I polished off a bottle, the same thing resulted. Although I made it to New Years. And I was sick at 3 am and not at 11:30. I spent the countdown with my face in the toilet, while I heard everyone cheering and having fun like I should have been having. Sadly, my hang over isn't what's kicking me today. I really don't like placing the blame on anyone other than myself. I'm responisble for myself and my actions. Although it's easier to blame others, I'm an existentialist through and through, and to blame someone else is inauthentic.

I attended a very nice dinner party in a very nice condo tonight. It was all very nice. I felt like a grown-up. I don't have too many moments like those. For the most part I still feel like I'm a kid. Maybe if I owned something I wouldn't feel this way. Or maybe if I was married. Probably not. Maybe it will only be those moments every once in awhile.

I glimpsed the Northern Lights tonight. It's been awhile since I've seen them. It was a treat. And they weren't green like the usually are when I see them in the city. They were white and short and perfect for the quiet cloudy night that today has been.

Often I wonder if these are all signs for something. I know, its probably coincidence. Sometimes it's got me wondering. Like if I hadn't have gone for a cruise before the dinner party along the river, would I have seen them? Usually that's where I see them. Right place at the right time?

I did my cards in August. I don't know why I do my cards, but the cards are always right. Not coincidence. I worked for a woman whom read tarot cards, and her predictions were spot on when she was in high school. Suddenly her cards were off and it was because her younger sister was using them. Because they are my cards and only I touch them, I think they're true. Eerie I know. Over Christmas my mother bought these mensa personality quiz cards. To my sister's surprise she thought she was more intuitive scoring a 53. I on the other hand scored an 88 out of 110. So maybe I'm not so much more intuitive, but gullable because I believe in the cards I deal myself. I basically do a short reading from both decks. To do a 13 card reading would be exhausting since I haven't really studied my cards. Maybe sometime.

The card that stuck out the most was the Knight of Swords. I knew it was a person and I knew who it was. I was hoping that I was wrong; that the card was about me and not a person. My gut was right and it was a person and it was just I had expected. It's funny how I knew in August that they would come and go. I really didn't want it to be true. There's nothing that can be done about it. It also predicted a new career in the near future. The thing about the cards, is that each card can either be about personal growth, another individual representing that card or a situation. For me, it's easy to accept the cards as truth because it's not necessarily fate or predetermined circumstances. The future is entirely subjective. Thoughts are constantly changing. A short reading is just as it is. A reading of a short amount of time. I only do them once and awhile. Had I not have done a reading in August I wouldn't have been aware of the Knight of Swords and I would today still believe that not all was lost. Since I did the reading, I know better. You can doubt the cards, but I don't.

I'll do another reading today before midnight.

I've included a station that I happen to like. I thought it fit my mood to a T.

Cheers to you and hopefully a better year than the last.

Eat.Pray.Drink.Love

M's blog reminds me of all the thoughts I had in the last couple days. My thoughts in fast forward. There was the couple who had two children under two years old. The older baby sat at the table crying. Not like how a baby cries, but how I feel when I want to cry when I'm frustrated. It was super hilarious. He was super cute even though I wasn't in the mood for listening to a baby cry.

Last night all I wanted to do was go sledding. That was at 9pm and I knew I didn't have time to go. Not to mention the snow was too wet. It wouldn't have been enjoyable. But I sure thought about it all day. I plan on going maybe tomorrow. I would have gone this evening if I didn't have a headache. I still have a headache. I don't know what from, but I'm hoping I find out soon.

The day was a blur. Not entirely, but it went by way too fast.

I didn't know there was a bilberry. Yeup. I had a couple beer. I didn't enjoy them but I drank them anyway. While I ate dip, while I am still watching Eat.Pray.Love. Although I lost my attention when I turned on my laptop. I needed to find a cupcake recipe. The beauty of the internet. You really don't have to buy anything sometimes ie. a recipe book. I found exactly what I was looking for. The drawback it didn't say how much the recipe yields. I guess it doesn't matter. I'm making tiny cupcakes. I'm not sure how long to bake them for. This will be interesting to say the least. I don't even have a tupperware container to bring them to work in. Durrrrrrrrrrrrr!

And I lost my attention span for writing.

I ate. I prayed. Sort of. I drank. I didn't love. But that's easy. Maybe. Nope. Self love? Even harder. I will finish my Christmas novel. And then David Sedaris telling Christmas stories. I LOOK FORWARD TO IT!!

Cheers! And have one for me.

All I Want For Christmas Is You.

I thought I had blogged sooner than a month ago. A lot has happened as per usual. I didn't finish a book, but I watched a lot of movies. I've had the intention of wrtiting, but I send out so many e-mails on a daily basis at work, that my need to write is sorrily diminished.

I've become accustomed to my blackberry and prior to that my iPod touch. For the most part I don't have to add punctuations, it autocorrects for me. Sadly, in my e-mail writing I forget this and have to add my punctuations in. I've also gotten used to shifting to hit the period, but alas on a keyboard it happens to be > which litter my screen if I'm not watching.

The holiday season has begun and I think maybe I'll briefly chat about that. I had originally decorated my tree in my apartment the night before I started at Hatch. I was nervous and had a stomach ache and I needed to distract myself. Turned out I hated my tree. Like hated it. Last Sunday I corrected it. I used my sister's light pink and ivory ribbons to fill in the tree since my cheap 20$ tree is very thin; branch volume wise. And then I put on a few more bigger decorations that are entirely unrelated to cupcakes. After fixing it I no longer loathe it, but adore it's cuteness. Thursday we had my Dad's bf and wife come pick us up in their truck to pick up our real Christmas tree for my mother's house. She ended up getting them to cut off two feet off the beautiful 9' foot tree it orginally was. She removed probably $40 off the tree by cutting so much off. We laughed about it. When we got it back to the house, Ron and my Mom put the tree in the stand.

This became very emotional for me. Last year my Mom and I had picked up the tree and were attempting to put the tree in the stand when my Dad decided to help. Well, he ended up ruining the tree. My mom kicked him and Ron out of the house as we tried to restore what was left of the tree. We ended up cutting a foot off the tree to compensate for what my Dad ruined. So on Thursday we joked about it. There was a moment where we thought we weren't going to get the tree sturdy and Ron kindly reminded us that Dad would have used string to fasten it to the wall. For some reason this got to me and I lost my attention on directing how to make the tree straight. Thankfully we finished it and I didn't have to pretend that I wasn't upset.

Friday I helped decorate the tree as we listened to J's Christmas music. I had attention for this task for about 30 minutes. We hate chocolate, or well I did basically, had some nog, watched a cheesy Christmas movie that I slept through and napped on the couch until midnight where I finally dragged my ass home to bed.

That concludes my Christmas festivities. I'm not sure how many more I'll have. I ended up coming home and crying my eyes out on Friday. Yay me. So I think less is more and all I am really up for. Which is why I continue to put off finishing my Christmas shopping. I'm not buying any gifts for a man this year, and it hurts. I never really knew what to get him. He never took any of it home and complained about everything. Regardless, I would like the opportunity to struggle thinking of ideas than not having the option at all. I had no intention of going in this direction for a post but I went there so I might as well continue. Because this is the reality of my Christmas this year.

My favourite Christmas song happens to be All I Want For Christmas. I've always wanted to sing this to someone after watching Love Actually. It hasn't happened yet. There is plenty of time. For some reason this song still applies to how a feel this year, just not in a romantic way. In fact you could take all the romantic bits out. Either way I love this song through and through. I also love Taylor Swift's version of Last Christmas. I haven't done this either. But I'm reading this quaint chic lit novel about a Mexican decent woman from New Mexico who goes on 3 dates each with these 3 cousins named after the three kings. The book being cleverly called The Three Kings. If I finish the book before Friday, anyone wanting to borrow it, please let me know! If I would stop writing, make supper and watch a movie I could get back to reading it. Which are my plans for my super lazy and relaxing Sunday, although it would have been better if my lovely sister would have let me sleep more than 5 hours. I loved the phone call nonetheless my dear.

I'm sure I'll have another festive blog before the new year. I've ordered Christmas cookies from the Atrium which I will be giving out to some select people, as well as partaking in my office Holiday Potluck. Which is my first btw. I'm excited. The office I work in has a great atmosphere and is a great change of pace in my life which I definitely needed to get my life on the right track.

Cheers!

Freedom

Earlier this evening I was hanging out with my friend K. We went for supper, hit some bookstores, talked, caught up; the usual. As I was driving back to her place we got on to the topic about relationships and whatnot. Her friends are getting engaged and so is she. All of my friends are in a serious relationship except one. It makes me think what's wrong with me, that I choose to be single and why I've been single for so long. It has its perks. At the moment I don't feel like going there. K said she was "envious" because I was free. What is free? I may not have a deep emotional attachment to someone that is all consuming, but I have my attachments, so how free am I other than I don't need to have another person in mind when it comes to doing things? In a sense, I'm not much freer than most people. The only free people I can think of, especially when it comes to philosophy are the Greek Skeptics. Their lack of possessions makes them free from material attachments, and their nihilism of not committing to any one thought other than that basic one. There is no such thing as freedom other than the freedom of choice and even choices are limited. If I lived like a Skeptic, or even an aesthetic on a mission of moksha or nirvana, there is an attachment to that belief that we can be free of our judgements, free from the cycle or rebirth, but we're still attached to our thoughts, and beliefs, so there really is no concept of freedom. To be ultimately free is to not make choices and be unaware of the fact that there are choices. That you just be and only be without any contemplating or reflective thought. That doesn't make sense since that's contradictory of what freedom means. What kind of freedom is there really? It doesn't exist in the pure sense of the ideal we think of when we think of freedom. It's one of those tricky universals, that are abstract, which I consider to not really exist. Even when it comes to that eg. definitions of words, but even different words have the same meaning. A perfect example of this is a crossword puzzle. You get a clue, and space is so many letters, but there are so many words you can come up with for that one clue. At this rate, freedom must be purely subjective, and the universal stems from the objectivity of this one concept we all understand, but take it to have different meanings, depending on what someone may think freedom is. To bring the discussion of freedom to an end, there is no such thing as freedom. I have more free choices because I'm single, because my choices are not solely dependent on my attachment to a person, but in a sense I'm not really free. What's a few more attachments? It's not like they'll weigh me down anymore than the limitations I set for myself right now. A truly free person has no attachments. Or maybe their attachments don't rule their life or decisions. A person who doesn't let their attachments they choose to have have some sort of influence on them has no right to have those attachments, because attachments mean sacrifices in some way or another. To avoid all attachments, would thus mean that one would be attached to not having attachments. This argument is going nowhere. No matter what perspective I take, its impossible to prove that freedom exists in a pure state.

I rest my case on freedom. It barely exists. The only freedom is the freedom to choose. I'm not free, I just have free will. That is a whole different topic. I've been thinking about Kierkegaard lately, but I dont know if enough time has passed yet that I can read it again. I take prof. Hudson's advice seriously; take a break from Kierkegaard and don't read him for a long time. I should have asked her what she meant by a long time, but I'm sure I'll know when I know.

Have a great Friday night. It's getting late, but the day isn't over. I plan to make the most of what's left of the day.

Lest We Forget

Another month, another day. Im currently watching CBC's Remembrance Day special. In about 15 minutes they'll start so I'll be making a quick one or taking a break midway through to pay my respects. For me, its hard to relate or have a connection with Remembrance Day. Maybe its my lack of history and real connection to the land that I feel separated from this experience.

I do think that all the box and chain stores should have waited to display their Christmas merchandise until after Remembrance Day. I think it's disrespectful and tackless. They make enough money off of Christmas as it is, the least they could do is observe respect for a holiday that is important.

A surprisng amount has happened over the past couple weeks. I'm leaving the pool hall. I haven't really told anyone over there ie. customers. I'm planning on celebrating my time there on my last day and I'm being particular about who I tell because I don't think I want them there. In fact, I may not say anything even though I probably should. My friend M called me a league girl. Which I have been, for almost 3 years now. It's the least I could do by saying something. Does it really even matter? When it comes to business we're all expendable. Someone else has already jumped at my shifts. I can't blame her. Tuesdays have been mine since we opened up at the new location, and now they'll be somebody else's. It would help if people would not compliment me now that I'm leaving. I like the appreciation whilst doing something, not when it doesn't matter or have the same meaning to me.

I'm excited about the next chapter of my life. I don't think I'm going to mark my body again though. I've thought about it. This one just isn't as life changing for me. This year has been nothing less than a growing year for me in so many ways. For this I am thankful. Knowledge comes at a price though. To say it was easy would be a lie. Anyone telling you where they got was easy, that would be a lie too. Unless they sold their soul to the devil. In that case, to sell your soul for so little, it must have been an easy decision.

Now I remember why I had the urge to write. Typical me, my thoughts flow wherever they flow. For some odd reason I've forgot the word for it too. Which is definitely ironic because Philosophy professors are really bad for it. I imagine this will get worse with time. I came on here because I have an obsession for horoscopes lately. And mine for today on myAOL reads as: You have high hopes for reaching your goals today, but the determination for which you are famous may not be enough to guarantee your success. Instead of relentlessly driving toward your singular destination, remain open to what's being revealed by the changing circumstances. It's more important to be light on your feet and willing to switch direction than it is to doggedly push toward an objective that no longer makes sense.

What does this mean? I get it. It's accurate, although I'm not going to divulge it's accuracy. I like being sly about things and then never remember what I was talking about later. The day is early. I'm guessing if I just let things go where they go I should just let them go where they go. Why I'm so relaxed about this is odd. Is it because I don't care or is it because there is no use fighting what can't be fought? I'm JFL today. It's weird having a day off so close to the weekend, but still have to go back to work for one more day will be weird. Last night felt like Friday, so does that mean tomorrow will feel like Monday?

For some reason, this video and this song came to me. A Tribe Called Quest Why I thought of this seems to sum up this day. This day is going somewhere and so do I. If you have some time and feel like getting funky after watching or listening to the video, check out the playlist for A Tribe Called Quest. It's pretty good. Dancing in the morning is awesome.

Lest We Forget.