Empty Platitudes

Blame the Internet.

If you are a regular denizen of a social network or three (and who isn’t), you’ve probably had your fill of those stupid pictures with worn-out sayings that are supposed to offer inspirational and uplifting messages about life. They are called memes, and I can never figure out if they should be pronounced “meems” or “mee-mees.”

Of course there are other categories of memes: cat memes, memes containing just about any other kind of animal, political memes (containing even worse kinds of animals), memes about coffee, memes about beer, memes about bacon, general jerk-off memes, and… well you get the idea. Not that any of this really matters.

But it’s the memes that are intended to be highly philosophical and spiritually uplifting that I am focused on here. The point is that I know that I am pretty fed up with asinine sayings like:

• “Time heals all wounds”
• “Tomorrow is another day”
• “Live each moment like it’s your last”

Blyetch!  I can feel my stomach turning already.

Now there are some genuinely original and inspiration messages out there, and I’ve posted a few of them in my time, and none of them involve bacon (although a few have involved cats or coffee). But what really riles me are the blandly simplistic ones that so many people “ooh” and “ahh” about, and that get shared and copied ad nauseam, but which are either devoid of any significant meaning or are actually just pure BS: the empty platitudes.  Let’s look at a few of the more infamous ones.

“Everything happens for a reason.”  This one is supposed to make you feel better when something bad happens. When your wife or girlfriend runs off with an Argentine Tango instructor, a convicted felon, or a dwarf professional wrestler, this stupid saying is supposed to ease your pain? When you bet your life savings on a “sure thing” tip you got from a shady bookie named Lucky Louie and end up losing everything on a horse that tripped and broke a leg right out of the starting gate, this is supposed to make you feel like you’re not really a hopelessly gambling-addicted moron.

You see, it’s not because you screwed up and did something stupid. It’s not because your wife or girlfriend was just a heartless user who was taking advantage of you until someone better (like a muscle-bound dwarf) came along, and you were just too blind to see it. It’s not because you were weak-minded enough to fall for some improbable scam sold to you by a criminal lowlife. No, no… it’s because there is some greater reason in the universe that you’re just not aware of yet, which of course, makes everything better. It makes me want to barf!

“There are no mistakes, just lessons to be learned.”  Oh, please… spare me. Yes, there are mistakes! There are big, stupendous, unbelievable mistakes. But, hey, don’t worry, and don’t take responsibility for botching it. Don’t take responsibility for your life at all. Twenty years from now, after finishing your daily pint of vodka, you’ll be able to see how the wonderful life you have would not have been possible if you hadn’t made that monumental blunder years earlier. Be glad for your mistakes.

Of course, we have to learn from our mistakes and avoid making them again in the future. But this does not diminish the fact that mistakes are, in fact, mistakes. Sometimes a mistake happens because we have no idea about how things work or what might happen – we are totally naive. And by making that mistake and learning something from it, we reduce our naiveté a bit.

But it was still a mistake. And when we make the same mistake again, or mess up in something about which we’ve been warned or had some other prior knowledge, then there is nothing else you can say about it: it was a boneheaded screw-up!

“If it’s meant to happen, it will happen when the time is right.” And its related platitude: “Good things come to those who wait.”

Great… and while you’re waiting for the time to be right, others realize that there is no “righter” time than now and are actively taking what you’re waiting for. And then you can console yourself by just saying that some mysterious universal power did not want this for you because it wasn’t handed to you on a safe, silver platter.

This is the ultimate excuse to avoid taking action to shape events, to steer clear of responsibility, and to let your fears control your actions (well… inactions, really). Just leave it in the hands of some unseen outside force and do nothing yourself. It’s so much easier. But then, never getting out of bed, or working, or putting out real effort for the things you want is easier too. It’s so much simpler to just go with the flow and take what the stream of life puts before you, to just exist and accept everything that comes or doesn’t come.

Just to clarify, I DO believe in the Power of Intention and that the universe works with you to create good (or bad) things in your life based on the intentions you put out there through your words and thoughts. But it only works according to the strength of your intention and the amount of work and perseverance you put into it yourself. Too many people hear about the Power of Intention and think, “Cool, if I just wish and wish and wish hard enough, my dreams will come true. And if they don’t come true, it’s because the universe is wiser than me, and it just was not in ‘the plan.’”

But it doesn’t work this way. You can’t just sit and wait for the universe to “give” things to you, and you can’t use this “if it’s meant to happen” as an excuse to allow your fears to keep you from taking action toward what you want. If you want something, you have to take action, go for it, and start now!

“Don’t be sad it’s over – be glad it happened.”  No, be glad it’s over – be really glad it’s over. If it ended, for whatever reason, then it probably wasn’t making you very happy before the bottom finally fell out of it. So why should you be glad it happened and you spent time being miserable before one of you finally had the gumption to put it out of its misery? Better to just blot it out of your memory completely. You had enough sadness; it’s time to be glad… until the next “happy thing” that turns bad, makes you sad, and then has to be ended.

“Everything always works out in the end.”  Well, everything has some end, usually. And that end can be good or bad. If something “works out,” it implies that it is successful and, therefore, good. But the kinds of things that this simplistic saying usually addresses generally don’t work out, and the ending is bad. So, in fact, it does NOT work out. This is related to the idea that there are no mistakes and “everything happens the way it’s supposed to.” So, by this notion, we really have no free choice, to which I sneeze, “Ahbullshit”!

“There are plenty more fish in the sea.”  Another convenient way to excuse not taking stronger action to get the one you really wanted or to comfort yourself over having been naive enough to let the last fish swim away with your worm. Sure, there are many fish in the sea, and they all smell just about as bad as the one that got away.

“Better late than never.”  Better early or on time than late. This is just a convenient excuse for those who are punctuality-challenged. Get a better alarm clock.

And finally…

“Dance like no one is watching.”  The thing is that we are watching, and we are laughing our asses off (or being totally grossed out and on the verge of purge, depending on who is doing the dancing). But please, don’t stop entertaining us (unless you’re an obese twerker in WalMart spandex).

There are many, many others. But this is enough for now.
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Hard to Hold Back the Hate

Hate is an emotion that I reject. But sometimes holding back that feeling is agonizingly difficult.

A short time ago I learned that at least two people were killed (one report says it was three) and 12 injured today by a terrorist attack in my city, Kharkiv. Apparently, cowardly terrorists – clearly associated with and supported by Russian-backed separatists – planted an antipersonnel bomb timed to explode as a peaceful crowd of people showing their support for Ukraine was passing by. There are indications that they were trained and received their equipment in Russia.

The victims and their colleagues were rallying for peace in this country and honoring the 100 people killed in Kyiv a year ago by the corrupt (and also Russian-backed) Yanukovich government during the Euromaidan protests. The outrage over that massacre helped to overturn the government shortly thereafter and send Yanukovich slinking off to hide in Russia. The fact that these patriots were showing support for their country and a desire for the war to end made them targets of despicable, low-brow animals who willingly do the bidding of that heinous despot in the Kremlin.

My immediate reaction to the news was visceral. It was the kind of feeling I’ve been experiencing all too often lately when I see what is happening to Ukraine, what Russia and its sycophantic minions in Donetsk and Lugansk are doing to this country.

Ukraine Under Siege – Hard Not to Hate

It is really difficult to hold back the hate these days.

In recent weeks, as I’ve watched Putin pretend to participate in peace talks while simultaneously sending more and more lethal equipment – and his own Russian soldiers – across the border into the Donbas region, it’s been hard not to simply hate the man. I’ve seen photos and video of the low-life criminals in Donbas who are charitably called "separatists," and it has been very difficult to not let my feelings cross over into pure hate.

As I see Ukraine’s economy fall further and further toward collapse and see the value of the currency spin down into previously unfathomable depths, and as I see the terrible impact it is having on the Ukrainian people, especially those I care deeply about, it is all I can do to stop from hating all of Russia and Donbas for causing this.

As I hear and read about the terrible casualties among Ukrainian soldiers and innocent civilians in the east, see photos and videos of the carnage, and see the fear in the eyes of people here who worry that they too might be drawn into the conflict – either through mobilization into the military or actual war coming to the city – it is almost impossible to repress the desire to see the terrorists and their Russian masters receive equal measures of retribution… and more.

As I see the mindless acceptance of lie after lie disseminated by the Kremlin’s propaganda machine – seemingly intelligent people in Russia and Donbas turned into hypnotized zombies by Putin and his obedient media – I can only shake my head in sadness and disbelief. I feel sorry for them, but I don’t hate them.

Amazingly weak "leaders" in Europe and the USSA refuse to take any concrete actions to help Ukraine defend itself. They are too afraid of Russia and, in the case of Europe, too worried about having their supplies of Russian oil and gas cut off. They talk a good game about democracy, territorial sovereignty, the rights of nations, and so forth, but they are too self-absorbed to actually act on these lofty principles. Still... I don't hate them.

In all of this, it is becoming harder and harder to not just hate them all.

Hate Never Helps

When I was young and stupid, it was not so difficult to say, “I hate this,” or “I hate that.” But I learned that hate is a useless, even counterproductive, emotion. For a long time now, I have tried to take a higher road, a more positive and forgiving perspective, and not let hate be a serious part of my vocabulary.

Of course, we often say things like, “I hate it when the bus is late,” or things like that, but it’s just an expression of frustration, not true hate. But perhaps even such expressions should be avoided.

In my life, there have been people who have done wrong to me, some in minor ways and some in very major ways. But I have learned not to hate them.

There are many people and groups in our world with whom I strongly disapprove of or disagree. But I don’t hate them. I believe the current president of the USSA is a feckless leader, a terrible manager of the nation and economy, and a perpetuator of a failed ideology who is tearing my own country apart and making it a laughing stock around the world. But I don’t hate the man.

I regret that so many of my countrymen who knew better simply did not bother to vote in the last two presidential elections and that so many who did vote were mislead by the slick propaganda and put that man into the White House twice. But I don’t hate them for it.

My heart sometimes boils over with frustration at the ineffective leadership in Europe and the USSA, and the resulting dangers that are increasing as a result – especially as it relates to Ukraine. The majority of these “leaders” are corrupt, selfish and taking actions that only protect or enrich themselves, usually at the expense of the people they have pledged to serve. But, still, I don’t hate them.

What to Do When it Affects You?

There are all kinds of evil terrorists in the world, especially in the Islamic world. I want to see them defeated – killed if necessary – but I cannot say that I hate them. Perhaps it’s because most of them have not affected me directly. No one I know has been hurt or killed by the actions of ISIS, Al Qaeda, Boko Harum or similar groups. Maybe if I lost someone in those situations, I would be driven over the edge. I hope that time will never arrive.

But the terrorists in Ukraine have affected me directly: they directly threaten people I care about, and they are wrecking the economy, which directly affects all of us here. And I feel as though I am on that proverbial edge. These are terrible, terrible people; words cannot express how angry I am or how I feel about them. But I do not want to use the word hate.

I really do not want to feel hate for the people who are tearing this country apart and mindlessly killing and destroying, and I will continue to do my best not to let myself slide into that mindset. But it is getting very, very hard.

Below is a video clip of the explosion:

Ironically, today is Forgiveness Sunday in the Orthodox Church.

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* Follow-up: The death toll was officially set at three on Monday, the day after the attack, when a 15-year-old boy died in the hospital from a massive head wound. Officials say now that 10 people were wounded.

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The Joy of Driving

I love to drive!

Since the day I turned 16, driving a car has been something that has given me a special kind of joy. Perhaps it’s the sense of freedom you have when you can just hop into your machine and go wherever you want. Or maybe it’s the feeling of the wind in your hair driving with open windows, an open sunroof, or an open convertible on a warm, sunny day.

It might be the way you seem to be on a mission of discovery when taking a road trip or other long-distance drive. Your car or truck takes you through places you otherwise would never have visited and treats you to sights and experiences you could not have had without your trusty metallic steed.

And even the routine commute to work, traffic and all, can be a pleasure – especially when compared to walking in cold and snow or riding on an overcrowded bus or subway train.

Yes, I love driving, and it is one of the few things I really miss living in Ukraine.  But it’s more than those feelings of freedom and discovery; it’s something that goes deep into the heart and soul.

Driving is Who We Are

Maybe it’s an American cultural thing, a special aspect of the American male psyche. To the American man, driving is hugely important. One of the things an American boy looks forward to the most is being old enough to get his driver’s license. It’s a rite of passage, one of the most important steps that signals ascension to manhood.

The ability to drive – and drive well – is an essential part of a man’s self-image. It runs deep and speaks to who and what he is as a man. For most American men, driving skill ranks second only behind sexual prowess in their assessments of their own manhood. If a man isn’t a master of the road, he is somehow less of a man.

I’m not sure if driving occupies such an important place in the minds and hearts of men in other cultures, but the automobile has dominated American culture for 100 years, and our love of cars and driving is deeply engrained into who we are. I suppose I can’t speak for all American men, but I do believe this is generally true. I know it is true for me.

Driving Memories

I remember years ago when my first new car saw me safely and comfortably on multiple trips between Massachusetts and Maryland. We (the car and I) often drove through the night to avoid the worst of New York traffic. Good music inside a smooth and reliable ride did more than just get me through those trips, it gave me a safe inner sanctum in which the rest of the world could not touch me, and my mind could soar. It was almost like meditation.

A few years later, I took another new car on my first cross-country jaunt, traveling from Norfolk, Virginia, to Monterey, California, to begin a Navy language school. That April drive treated me to the beauty of spring in the Appalachians of Tennessee and the absolutely new (to me) landscapes of the north Texas flatlands and the desert southwest of New Mexico and Arizona. My final prize on that trip was 100 miles of scenic wonder along the California coastal highway from San Luis Obispo, through Big Sur, to Monterey. It was pure magic.

When I returned to the United States after six years in Japan, my motorcycle took me from San Francisco to Fort Collins, Colorado, through some of the most beautiful mountain scenery you could imagine. That trip took driving magic to yet another level.

There have been a number of other fantastic, long-distance driving experiences. I’ve traveled between Colorado and Massachusetts several times, usually in a rented moving truck. And on several of those trips, I enjoyed the good company of a traveling companion. It was especially sweet when one of my daughters made the trip with me from the East Coast to Denver.

I’ve driven between Denver and Chicago several times, and in the 1990s and early 2000s, I made a number of trips between Denver and Albuquerque, New Mexico, and even a few longer trips all the way down to Las Cruces on the Mexican border. And there have been a lot of other road trips over the years.

That’s a lot of miles and a lot of memories.

Of course, not every driving experience is good. Besides being a joy, driving is responsible and serious business. You have to be focused and aware to keep yourself and others safe on the road, and for this reason you can sometimes become overly stressed. Bad drivers around you, difficult weather and road conditions, and other factors can conspire to replace your driving joy with unwanted anxiety.

But that’s worst-case, and in my experience, the pleasure of driving has always far outweighed those occasional speed bumps.

Becoming One with the Vehicle

The trucks and cars I have owned (and especially my motorcycle) are integral to my great driving memories. The vehicles become part of who I am, an extension of my identity and personality. It’s important to get to know the vehicle – intimately – and to become one with it. Together, you share the driving experience, and together you work through challenging situations.

You learn the essentials of operating a car or truck, but then you have to get used to the specific idiosyncrasies of any particular vehicle. You learn that no two standard-shift vehicles behave the same with regard to the engagement point or sensitivity of the clutch, the feel and throw of the shifter, the sensitivity of the brakes, the RPM range at which the engine operates most effectively, and so forth.

Experience teaches you that every vehicle behaves differently in snow, in heavy rain, or on icy streets. You learn to handle a front-wheel drive car differently from a rear-wheel drive. And you get to know the advantages – and the limitations – of operating your four-wheel drive truck in those conditions. And you get a real appreciation for good-quality tires, as well as for studs or chains when you need them.

For me, little can match the thrill of working with a four-wheel drive truck to negotiate difficult paths – or no path at all – in the backcountry. I’ve had three exceptional off-road rides: the famous, nimble and tough white Bronco (not O.J.); my classy and sassy Nissan Frontier; and the big, powerful and comfortable Nissan Titan.

The Bronco holds the best memories because it took me into the wildest places and saw me through the most precarious off-road situations. It had a long-throw shifter, like an older truck should, and I became adept at working the clutch at a higher rev to avoid stalls, keeping higher RPMs at low speeds for torque, power and sure-footedness, quick-shifting between first and reverse to rock the truck out of jams, and assorted other tricks and techniques. Together, we worked through mud and snow, over rocks and logs, and along roads a mountain goat might thing twice about using. It was special.

Colorado: Nothing Compares to You

In September, I wrote a series of observations about my trip to the USSA that I called my American Journal. In that post, I wrote about driving in Colorado and how great it was. The best part was driving to Steamboat Springs in the northern mountains.

We drove at night along lonely county and state roads and saw only a handful of other cars for hours. The drive back was in the daytime, and there were a few more cars, but with the bright weather and beautiful scenery, it was still pure motoring bliss.

For the most part, driving in Colorado is special. There are exceptions, of course. City driving in Denver or Colorado Springs is pretty much like city driving anyplace not named New York, Los Angeles or Boston; except for the view of majestic mountain peaks to the west. And I-70 into the mountains is to be avoided on any weekend during ski season or on major holidays. That’s what happens when too many people learn what an amazing place Colorado is and crowd in to get a piece.

But those problems aside, driving in Colorado is a joy. Mountain driving challenges you with occasional narrow roads, sharp curves, sudden snowstorms, and the chance that a deer, elk, bighorn sheep, moose or even a bear might suddenly dart in front of you. Those kinds of challenges are fun, but you have to be careful. In the end, you are rewarded with the opportunity to experience some of the most breathtaking and inspiring places on Earth.

I seem to be persuading myself that I need to return to Colorado and get back behind the wheel.

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Getting Away

Like most people, I don’t always appreciate the value of a real getaway vacation: the type where you take a week or two away from home, away from work, and away from the usual day-to-day issues, responsibilities, places and people.

Taking some days off to just rest at home is good, of course, but it doesn’t really help when you need to think through issues and situations in your life and perhaps make some decisions. When you try to do that at home, the issues are still too close, and it is difficult to properly sort them out, put them in the proper perspective, and chart the right course.

I have been guilty of that far too often over the past years during the annual Ukrainian New Year and May holidays. I will relish the opportunity to take some days off from work, and I tell myself that I will take time, not only to rest, but to really do the kind of serious contemplation that I can never find time to do when I am working every day.

I say that I will organize my class materials, create some new ones, look over the situation with each student and group and determine what should be changed or improved. And I promise myself to spend time in quiet thought, really analyzing my life and making some hard decisions about the near and long-term future.

Sounds great. But invariably I allow myself to sleep a lot at the beginning, and when I am not sleeping, I continue the usual home Internet routine of watching innumerable news clips, movies and other stuff of very questionable usefulness. The beginning continues through the middle of the vacation and all the way to the end. And as the inevitable return to work looms, I find I have accomplished almost nothing that I had intended.

But aside from these weaknesses of will and discipline, taking vacations at home exposes another problem: the usual life and work remain too close at hand to effectively think and plan. There are forces at work in your daily life that influence you in certain directions, no matter if these are the right directions for you or not.

But sometimes, “getting away” doesn’t really help the situation; it only puts you into a different set of influences. When I was in the USSA last September, it gave me an opportunity to think about my life in Ukraine from a distance, which was good. But at the same time, there were some conflicting interests and opinions there that worked to influence me in another direction. It was still difficult to consider everything in a clear and neutral manner.

When you really need to get away, free your mind, and open yourself to let the universe show you the way, you need a neutral location and the chance to be alone in silence. I have just returned from a week in Switzerland, which is perhaps the most famous neutral country in history. And I did find some flashes of early-morning silence, as I mentioned in my previous post, Silence.

But overall, I did not really take advantage of it. It was a short trip, and my attention was happily paid to four beautiful little girls. The purpose of this trip was not contemplation, but rather to spend time with family. Still, I found time to think a bit, write several blog posts, and to think about the need to get away from the daily routine in order to sort things out.

I am not sure when my next vacation will be, let alone my next opportunity to relax in a truly neutral environment. Maybe it would be nice to spend some time by the sea on a warm beach or (my favorite) to take in the power and beauty a mountain forest.

Either way, I know what I need. The trick now is to make it happen.
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Silence

A few mornings ago I paused for a moment as I was getting dressed, and I noticed something that I have rarely experienced in the past seven years: complete silence.

I am staying at a kind of dormitory near my daughter’s house in Burtigny, Switzerland. At present, there is almost no one else staying here, so there are few internal noises. And Burtigny is a very quiet little village, so there is not much traffic through the center and few other sources of sound.

Sitting in absolute silence was a treat, but at the same time, it wasn’t completely comfortable. I guess this is because I experience it so seldom at home in Kharkiv. I’ve become too accustomed to the mind-cluttering noises and other distractions that are endemic to my daily life there.

So Much Noise

I live amid a cacophony of human, machine and other sounds. I have discussed these unwelcome noises in previous posts such as Substandards of Living and Just a Fond Memory.

In my thin-walled apartment, I have to put up with disparate neighbor noises ranging from arguing couples to shrieking children (which are still preferable to the drunk partiers I used to have below me). And we frequently have inebriated visitors squatting on the bench outside my bedroom window to talk, shout and argue.

The building itself offers up assorted noises like whining water pipes, the whoosh of water down the sewer outlet from a flushed toilet above me, the buzz or rattle of washing machines and other devices, and the clanging of the metal door that guards the entrance to the building. On some evenings and weekends, I am treated to the hammering, drilling and other sounds of various renovation projects.

Of course, there is the almost constant noise of traffic on the street outside the building: horns, unmuffled engines, loud stereos and, of course, the delightful screeching of under-maintained marshrutka buses.

All of this is why I keep a stash of earplugs handy for sleep time.

Away from home, the level of noise and other distractions is about the same. It’s exceedingly difficult to find the solace of true quiet anywhere in Kharkiv. It’s not the fault of Kharkiv particularly; it’s a big city, and cities by their nature are places where the hustle and bustle leaves almost no room for peace and quiet.

Here He Goes Talking about the Mountain House Again

When I lived in the Colorado mountains, quiet ruled. I gave a good description of it in the post, Just a Fond Memory:

When I first moved there, it took me a few weeks to get used to the complete silence, especially at night. The usual local noises were the gentle sound of the wind rustling through the pines and aspens, morning songbirds, the occasional cawing of a crow, and in rare instances, the barking of foxes. The nights would be especially silent… and dark.

It was wonderful… and meditative.

Why Silence Matters

Sometimes I forget how important it is to have some real silence in our lives. In silence, you can focus, you can concentrate your mental and spiritual energy, you can rise above the ordinary and reach a higher level of functioning. Silence enhances creativity, allowing space for great ideas to be realized, and it allows you to sort through the myriad of thoughts and issues to chart a more effective course for your life.

When you are distracted by sounds or other things (the Internet, for example), your mind is constantly pulled in too many directions and prevented from achieving its best. But even worse, the mind becomes weak and lazy; it comes to prefer the distractions rather than the joy of work and achievement.

To repeat a concept I wrote about in the post, The Soul, the Mind and the Heart, lack of silence allows the physical mind to more easily prevent the spiritual mind – and thus the person as a whole – from being the best it can be.

Experiencing the morning quiet of my room here makes me realize how much I miss having such silence in my life – and how much I need it. Being able to escape to silence periodically is spiritually regenerative, enhances my creativity, and bolsters my ability to keep everything else in live in the right perspective.

I need to make more room in my life for silence, and I need to create an environment in which I can get back to daily meditation – something I have let slip and neglected for far too long. For the next few days I have left here, I need to come up with a plan to defeat the distractions back in Kharkiv.

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p.s. - I have been working on this post for a few days since I started it. Now in my next-to-last night here, there are new sounds in the place: I can hear some kind of music, and a bit earlier I heard a crying child. 

Earplugs tonight.

Life at the Speed of Time

Today is the first day of 2015.

But that can’t be possible; it seems like the first day of 2014 was just yesterday. And the first day of 2013 was only last week. What’s happening here?

Everything that happened between 1 January and 31 December 2014 seems to have whizzed by in a blur. Or even worse, it sometimes feels like it never really happened… like it was just some kind of dream. That’s how the hyperspeed of time seems.

We all notice that each New Year, each birthday, each work anniversary comes faster than the previous. And as time goes on, its velocity seems to increase. It doesn’t seem so long ago that 911 was just an emergency number in the U.S., there was only one former president Bush, and no one had even heard of a leftist charlatan named Obama. It seems like it was just the other day that I visited Ukraine for the first time. And only a short while before that, I was working in Peru. I was in great shape and had hair.

None of those things (or so many more) seem like they were very long ago, but they were. So much time has flashed by in what seems like an instant.

It Wasn’t Always So Quick

When we were children in school, there was nothing slower or more frustrating than time. The clock on the wall simply did not move, especially in math class. But maybe part of that frustration was due to the fact that our school clocks had no second hands; you could not actually see the movement of time.

And summer vacations, even though they were glorious fun, also seemed to pass at a leisurely pace. That’s part of what made them so wonderful. I’m sure that for our parents, however, those summer vacations crawled by at the speed of a sleepy snail… with a handicap.

But as we get older, time speeds up. You would think that our work time would crawl by, and to be honest, sometimes it does. But usually we are so pressed for time to get things done that the available time sprints like a cheetah so that our stress levels will rise. Time is truly insidious.

Of course, nothing makes time scream by faster than the Internet. I think all of us have sat down to spend “just a few minutes” online and then realized that an hour (or three) has passed. And how many of us have missed appointments or changed our plans because the Internet literally ate our time?

More than Perception?

Often I wonder if it is just our perception that time is moving faster or if time really is accelerating. There are some who believe that everything actually IS moving at a faster pace than in years past. The further it goes, the faster it goes until each person has the lifespan of a gnat.

Do you suppose that millions of years ago gnats lived for 80 years?

But whether the laws of physics can support a real increase in the velocity of time or if it just seems to be moving faster to us, it doesn’t really matter. For every person, perception is reality, so if we perceive that it is moving faster – and many of us do – then it is.

The Past: Did it Really Happen?

Sometimes I think of the past, and none of it seems real. School days, Guam, Japan, my days at CSU, and other eras of my life – and the people in them – sometimes seem like nothing more than dreams. I know on one level that the events happened and the people were real, but they seem to have lost the feeling of reality. And often I question whether they really happened or not.

This is one of the worst effects of time’s relentless drive to increase speed. Before we can savor the moment, it is lost to the past. And then the past becomes a fuzzy recollection of faces and events that don’t seem entirely real. It’s like a movie we watched one time, long ago, and can’t completely remember.

This feeling – that the events and people of the past are just some obscure movies – is probably heightened by the fact that these situations and the people in them are each completely separate from each other. At least, this is how it is in my case. I have often moved from one geographic location to another, one cast of characters to another, with no connection from one to the next.

A person who has lived his or her whole life (or most of it) in one place has a continual connection with the place and people. In that case, there is a constant connection of the past to the present, and perhaps this keeps the past rooted in the reality of the present.

But when you've lived your life in a series of completely different situations, with no connection to each other or to the present, they have more of a tendencey to fade into a surreal kind of obscurity. Thinking about them, recalling events and faces, becomes more like just dreaming.

Maybe nothing that we consider "real life" is real at all.

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To Resolve or Not to Resolve

Today is 30 December. I am on a train bound from Kharkiv to Kyiv. Tomorrow I will fly to Switzerland to ring in the New Year with my daughter and her family. It will be a nice way to start the next year.

For a lot of people, New Year is a time to pause and look back not only on the past year but on how they’ve lived their lives up to this point. They look at what they accomplished or failed to accomplish in the past year, what good and bad things came their way, and they make some determination about whether it was a good or bad year. Then, usually, they usually feel some level of determination to make the next year better.

New Year is often about setting goals, making changes, doing and living better. We make those famous (or infamous, as the case may be) New Year resolutions. We “resolve” to change what we think needs changing. Maybe we need to stop a bad habit or adopt a good one. We resolve to work out more, lose weight, stop smoking, work harder, not work so hard, be more responsible, lighten up a little, be nicer to the people around us… yada, yada, yada.

Resolving to Not Resolve

Many scoff at the whole notion of making such resolutions. After all, the success rate for New Year resolutions is probably less than five percent. We have good intentions and greet the New Year with feelings of enthusiasm and determination, but after a short while – a few weeks or maybe just a few days (or hours) – we fail to keep the resolution. We fall back into familiar patterns, and the whole idea of the resolution falls to the wayside.

Nothing changes, and we feel even worse for the failure.

I understand the skepticism. I have certainly had my share of failed resolutions, and because of that, I haven’t really made any for at least a few years. But I have made them in the past, and sometimes I was successful. I recall some years back when I had fallen out of my exercise routine for some time, and I resolved to start attending a gym and getting back in shape. I joined Holiday Health Club, which later became Balley’s Fitness. Not only did I stick with it, I got into the best shape of my life.

Getting Help

I’ve often wondered why that worked out while some similar attempts in more recent years have not. I guess one reason was the environment. At that time, I quickly fell in with a great group of people who really motivated me to want to be at the gym every evening. I met some of the best people I have ever known in my life, and many of them are still good friends so many years later.

The social aspect of a fitness center cannot be overlooked. If you don’t have a relationship partner to help motivate you and push you, then a group of friends like that is the next best thing. I wanted to be at the gym to work out, for sure, but it was so much more motivating to see and talk with friends, get together after the gym, make plans for weekend get-togethers and just generally enjoy an active social life.  It was a special time.

I have had a couple of other successful (at least for a time) New Year resolutions. But like the great majority of people, most of my resolutions have been half-hearted and didn’t last. But in this regard, at least, I’ve been in good company.

It’s been a lot harder to stick with any kind of personal resolution in these latest years of living alone and not having that same kind of close-knit group to motivate and support. But it is not impossible; it just means that there has to be a deeper desire and a stronger will. But those are two things I seem to have lost. Giving up and giving in is easier, and there hasn’t been sufficient reason to turn away from “easy.”

That’s why I haven’t made resolutions much in recent years. I know they won’t last, so what’s the point?

The Proverbial Fresh Start 

Actually, I think there can be value in using New Year as a time to resolve to improve. There is no other time of the year that presents us with such a strong and distinct feeling of newness – new opportunity and new hope. If only for the psychological aspect, it is a perfect moment to start fresh – and we always like the idea of getting a fresh start. But, the resolution has to be meaningful, and one has to have the determination and motivation to see it through.

Sometimes we also need some external help. The caring support of a close person, together with some strictness when necessary, can go a long way toward helping a resolution take hold and the change to blossom. If that strictness is perceived as, or actually is, just nagging, then it’s no help at all. But when it is a sincere desire to help, and when the person trying to change recognizes the love behind the pushing, then it can make a world of difference.

So, am I making a resolution this year? Well, I guess I would not be writing this if I wasn’t looking at the opportunity for a fresh start at something. But I’m not going to shout it out to the world here – I’ve done that before and it was a losing proposition. I’ll just challenge myself; I will know whether I’ve failed or succeeded, and that is enough.

What about you? Are you ready to change something and make 2015 a better year?

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p.s. It Was a Good Year

In the beginning of this post I mentioned that people often look back at the year that is ending and engage in some retrospective evaluation. “Was it a good year or a bad one?” “Did I achieve or fail?” I think it’s not a bad thing to stop and take stock of how things have gone.

And what about me? Well, I have been taking a good look at 2014 lately and asking myself if I would consider it a good one or one I’d rather forget. To be sure, I’ve had some challenges and difficulties, mainly physical, and I’ve lost a fair amount of money due to the problems in Ukraine and the plummeting value of the hryvnia. But there has been a lot more good than bad… a LOT more.

It has been a good year indeed, and I expect 2015 to be even better.

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