Happiness and coming home

Consider this.

I have a couple of friends (okay, one is more an acquaintance) that I went to high school with that recently moved back to our small town. The very same small town that when we were younger, we complained about non-stop. The very same small town that we all said we were done with when we graduated.

First the acquaintance. I want to say he was living in Ohio. Someplace cold. He has a wife, and kids, and a good job. But his family is here (and the weather is miserable). So he moves his family back. He takes a job at Circle K that he enjoys. He is close to his parents, the weather doesn't suck ass, and he is happy.

Now the friend. My age, single, no children. Attended Duke University. Got a job after graduation, teaching at Duke University. But ... her family is here. She goes back and forth for a bit. Eventually resigns. Moves back permanently, gets a job making custom hats, and loves working with her hands instead of her head (her words). And she gets to spend time with her parents. She is happy.

I realize I'm using the word "happy" as a sweeping generalization, but still. What conclusions can be drawn?

I'm getting older. I feel, maybe, just maybe, I'm getting wiser. My mental musings continue to chip away at the illusion of unlimited time, and my perspective on life, happiness and enlightenment has evolved to something I never thought possible. I think I've figured out what is important to me, at least, and what isn't. In a nutshell: Money isn't. Power isn't. Career isn't. Sex isn't. Possessions (even manga collections) ... no. It's the people in your life that are important. I think happiness comes from sharing something with another person, be it a smile with a stranger, a conversation with a friend, or an embrace with a loved one. Those connections remind us we are not alone, and make our struggle less so.

I'm sounding like a fucking Hallmark made-for-TV movie. It might all be bullshit. But I'm starting to believe that I believe it. So either way, it's a win-win.

J.L. Dodd

“Man is fond of counting his troubles, but he does not count his joys. If he counted them up as he ought to, he would see that every lot has enough happiness provided for it.”
– Fyodor Dostoevsky

"Happiness is inward, and not outward; and so, it does not depend on what we have, but on what we are." --Henry Van Dyke

"Happiness is spiritual, born of truth and love. It is unselfish; therefore it cannot exist alone, but requires all mankind to share it." --Mary Baker Eddy

Links:

http://www.keepinspiring.me/quotes-about-being-happy/#ixzz4IyNCQf7c

http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/topics/topic_happiness6.html

Review XP Twenty One Pilots

I hate to jump on the bandwagon (Why, though? Do I think I'm too cool to jump on the bandwagon? Maybe. What is cooler than a bandwagon that I can jump on? Imma have to think about this.). In this case, I'll make an exception because it's warranted. I have a new favorite band: Twenty One Pilots. To clarify, they won't be superseding Linkin Park or anything, but the duo and their musical musings are pretty bad-ass.

When I first heard "Stressed Out" on the radio, I immediately liked it, although I didn't look to see who the band was because it was on the today's hits radio station (see aforementioned dislike of bandwagons). But when "Ride" was released, I decided I had to find out more, which of course, prompted a YouTube search. And the rest is history.

The name, it seems, has a rather unique origin. From Wikipedia: "Tyler came up with the band's name while studying All My Sons by Arthur Miller, a play about a man who must decide what is best for his family after causing the death of twenty-one pilots during World War II because he knowingly sent them faulty parts for the good of his business. Tyler explains that this story of moral dilemma was the inspiration for the name of the band."

Interesting.

Twenty One Pilots fans insist there is no way to classify what genre they belong to, and I'll agree, it is difficult. There is certainly rap, though not in the traditional sense. There is also rock. You may know I'm a fan of the combination of the two. But what makes them stand out for me are the lyrics. Most times I don't give a shit about lyrics of a song I like, instead relying on the melody to affect me. But these lyrics are different. Unusual. Intriguing. Full of genuine human sentiment about uncertainty and conflict. I mean, how often do you hear a rap song about insecurity? I haven't yet found a song by them I don't like, but my favorite is "Car Radio." It alludes to the voices in one's head, something I've been battling as of late.

Here we go again. Forgive me. From Wikipedia:

"The bandwagon effect is a phenomenon whereby the rate of uptake of beliefs, ideas, fads and trends increases the more that they have already been adopted by others. In other words, the bandwagon effect is characterized by the probability of individual adoption increasing with respect to the proportion who have already done so.

"...The tendency to follow the actions or beliefs of others can occur because individuals directly prefer to conform, or because individuals derive information from others.

"...When individuals make rational choices based on the information they receive from others, economists have proposed that information cascades can quickly form in which people decide to ignore their personal information signals and follow the behavior of others."

See? We just can't help it. It's what we humans do. But I want to believe this is genuinely my own belief and behavior. So come on, people. Jump on my bandwagon, it's the coolest.

J. L. Dodd

P.S. I made a Twenty One Pilots Pandora station, It has played Arctic Monkeys, Jack White, Cage the Elephant, The Black Keyes, and Panic! At the Disco. All alt, apparently. I guess that makes sense, alternative, by definition, being the catch-all for anything different.

(Partial) Lyrics for "Lane Boy"

They say, "Stay in your lane, boy, lane boy,"
But we go where we want to
They think this thing is a highway, highway,
But will they be alive tomorrow?

They think this thing is a highway
If it was our way
We'd have a tempo change every other time change
'Cause our minds change on what we think is good
I wasn't raised in the hood,
But I know a thing or two about pain and darkness
If it wasn't for this music, I don't know how I would've fought this
Regardless,
All these songs I'm hearing are so heartless
Don't trust a perfect person and don't trust a song that's flawless
Honest,
There's a few songs on this record that feel common
I'm in constant confrontation with what I want and what is poppin'
In the industry
It seems to me
That singles on the radio are currency
My creativity's only free when I'm playin' shows

They say, "Stay in your lane, boy, lane boy,"
But we go where we want to
They think this thing is a highway, highway,
But will they be alive tomorrow?
Will they be alive tomorrow?

I'm sorry if that question I asked last
Scared you a bit like a hazmat
In a gas mask
If you ask Zack
He's my brother, he likes when I rap fast
But let's back track,
Back to this
Who would you live and die for on that list?
But the problem is
There's another list that exists and no one really wants to think about this
Forget sanity,
Forget salary,
Forget vanity,
My morality
If you get in between someone I love and me
You're gonna feel the heat of my cavalry
All these songs I'm hearing are so heartless
Don't trust a perfect person and don't trust a song that's flawless

Links:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twenty_One_Pilots

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bandwagon_effect

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/twentyonepilots/laneboy.html

Mindful chaos

My internal dialogue has grown relentless, the voices in my head no longer content to whisper during quiet times of purposeful introspection. The cacophony invades every moment with arguments on all things past, present and future. Is this what madness feels like? No, really. I'm asking.

I assume that some kind of growth will come from this. It may be yet another round of obsession, but this time it is with my own thoughts and feelings. I have always struggled with expressive writing. Want a research paper on the lasting physical and psychological affects of childhood neglect? Easy. A comparison of the affects on the brain of Lysergic Acid Diethylamide and alcohol? Done.

But to write about that which you believe to be true? Terrifying for me and I suspect, many others. I mean, you are inviting criticism from a species that values conformity above all else. Do you disagree? Do you think we value those who are unique? No, those 'unique' non-conformists are simply conforming to the idea of nonconformity. So there. And people are just fucking judgy. But they can't help it. The (mostly) unconscious categorization by the brain (AKA, stereotyping) is an innate survival instinct. At one time, it may have been as simple as danger or nah. Now, it is a multi-faceted system assigning different values to whomever and whatever we come into contact with.

To ensure my own survival, I usually keep whatever I'm thinking to myself. Except once in awhile I accidentally on purpose tell my boss that she's full of shit. I kid, I kid. Good thing she likes me. Perhaps the courage to acknowledge and state the Truth is the difference between an artist and, well, everyone else. Truth, not in of itself, but true belief, is not so easy to decipher. And once you figure out what you believe, you may wanna keep that shit to yourself.

And so, I remain in search of my own version of truth. As Lovecraft would say, my own dread glimpse of truth (he's such a downer). I think I've finally matured to the point that I'm not so worried about what the world thinks of me. Nope, I'm more concerned with what the voices think of me. Especially since those MFs won't shut up.

J. L. Dodd

"Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition." -Steve Jobs

Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/voice.html

“I became a writer so that the voices inside my head would become an acceptable occurrence.”
― Janae Mitchell

Synchronicity 2

I've written about this before: http://jldodd78.blogspot.com/2013/08/synchronicity.html. Now, in my mindful evolution, I know Cthulhu is a widely-recognized, iconic beastie. As soon as I became aware of him, I saw him everywhere because he is everywhere. But recently, I experienced another, if much more poignant, example of synchronicity.

A close friend's daughter passed away last week. I've been heartbroken as a friend, as a parent, as a person. I dreaded the visit to her home on Friday, but I had to see her. Upon entering, there was a table set up with candles, flowers, cards, and pictures. I was immediately drawn to a large, framed pencil drawing of her face. It was exceptional work. Mikaela was a beautiful girl, and I can honestly say I have never seen a pencil drawing capture reality in such a way. I looked for a signature, but didn't see one, so I asked who the artist was. My friend didn't know. Someone had given it to her daughter over a year ago, and she had given it to her parents. But there was a signature hidden at the bottom: "BDodd."

*chills*

I have a cousin, a first-cousin, mind you (most people in small towns like mine are "cousins" on some level), currently living in Alaska, who is an artist. I don't keep in touch with him, but I remembered my mother telling me that he did amazing pencil work. I immediately felt that the drawing, which held some kind of intangible power, must be his work. Hours later, with the help of my sister-in-law, I found it on his Instagram. The story of how the drawing came into existence was a bit convoluted, but it seems that my cousin, who at one time lived here and still has friends here, saw a photograph of Mikaela (someone completely unknown to him) online and felt compelled to draw it. He then gave it to a friend, who delivered it to her as a gift.

https://instagram.com/p/BIo6JO8BXvp/

What significance can we ascribe to this unlikely coincidence? My logical mind insists that humans instinctively look for connections, grasping at straws to find a deeper importance in everyday randomness.

My heart, and by heart I mean the emotional part of my mind, wants to believe something more. I want to believe that this is a "meaningful coincidence." Her spirit, or the collective unconscious, or the universe, as some say, has willfully given us this connection to comfort those left behind. To give us some sense that we are not simply adrift in this life; that there is something greater beyond death.

I don't know what I believe, but I know what I want to believe. Screw you, logic.

J. L. Dodd

The stark landscape of nothingness ...

A good friend of mine lost her daughter this week. I haven't had much exposure to death myself (knock on wood). I did study the five stages of loss and grief in developmental psychology, but reading about something and actually experiencing it are two very different things. This is what I've learned since yesterday.

Death makes you feel strange. Disconnected. Powerless. When attempting to come to terms with the shock and finality of it all, overwhelmed to the point of numbness. As much as I tried to fall back on impermanence for comfort, I found that it doesn't quite work. Perhaps my problem is that as attractive as the concept is, if you aren't truly enlightened (and I'm not), it means little when confronted with something real and not metaphorical.

My heart is heavy, not just because a beautiful, vibrant, 24-year-old woman tragically lost her life. I am also sorrowful because I think we may all lose her mother in one way or another. How do you recover from such a profound loss? Even with hordes of therapists, oceans of anti-depressants and stacks of self-help books, is it possible? Will my friend ever be the same person that she once was?

I don't think so. I can't fathom how I would cope in the same situation.

I will mourn them both. My friend is someone whom I greatly respect, and in the 12 years I've known her, she taught me many things. She taught me all the bad and/or inappropriate words in Spanish I know: pinche, borracho, payaso, to name a few. She also taught me that AC/DC is devil music, and that some people take offense to being called a "weirdo." She coined the term "fade-out zone" and also helped me to realize that when I say, "No, thanks I'm good," what I really mean is "Let's have another eight beers." More than that, and what I'm truly grateful for, she taught me how to treat people with respect, and what it means to show humility.

R.I.P. Mikaela Moreno

J. L. Dodd

"It is not the end of the physical body that should worry us. Rather, our concern must be to live while we're alive - to release our inner selves from the spiritual death that comes with living behind a facade designed to conform to external definitions of who and what we are." - Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

"I hope it is true that a man can die and yet not only live in others but give them life, and not only life, but that great consciousness of life." - Jack Kerouac

Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/g/georgeelio148896.html?src=t_death