My Philosophical Life

In a nutshell, the main focus philosophy as I see it, is being concious of the consequences of our choices. In my life I have developped habits and compultions which keep me in a kind of repetetive cycle of living out the same situation over and over again. With regards to stress, on reflection I can see that I not only deal well with stressful situations, I excell in them, seek them out, and crave them. Psychologically I get a lot out of being in them, just like the ‘Simon the Boxer’ metaphor layed out in the Real-Time Relationships book by Stefan Molyneux. Just as the boxer is addicted to violence after having violence inflicted on him as a child, I cope with the panic and fear I felt in childhood by reenacting that same situation in adulthood.

One specific example in my recent past is caving. Though it’s dangerous and scary, I manage to keep a cool head throughout, and wouldn’t get as much of a kick out of the less dangerous, committing or demanding trips I went on. I know that this is an addiction for me, so I now choose to avoid it for my own emotional wellbeing, not to mention my physical safety.

As for my finances, I seem drawn towards living on the breadline. Whether in a 100% commission job like my last one in sales, or spending my way into debt whithout looking for work when unemployed, which is my current situation. Though there are no unchosen positive obligations, I am fully capable of dissociating to the point of spending until I can’t live without taking some action to get work. I’m totally free to procrastinate on getting a job until I can no longer sustain my current lifestyle. I don’t have to do a single thing. Quite simply, it’s interesting that I choose not to apply for jobs.

What I’m also free to do, is to live without the stress of falling into this financial rock bottom. I don’t have to end up down and out in Paris and London. I can if I want, but I could also choose a life in which I have a stable income, where I can even fund therapy and live in London near my friends. Like when going sky diving, even when up in the plane at no point do I have to jump, it’s totally ok to choose to stay onboard and come to land safely.

What I’m dealing with here is a habit, a sense of compulsion to repeat an old pattern. I can choose to break that cycle, or I might not, whatever I do, the important thing is that I remain concious that it’s a choice I’ve made,  and that I’m choosing the consequences that come with it.

Venus Fly Trap Dream

This Dream begins at midday in the centre of a lage plaza in a city not unlike Philadelphia. I’m with Luke and we’re being shown a piece of artwork by a female artist in her mid 30’s who’s wearing a grey suit and has a blonde pony tail. She invites us to take a look around the artistic structure she’s built. walking round it I see it’s a box like shape around half the size of a house. It has curved edges and is entirely covered with white bathroom tiles. On the other side I find there are two more. these are more triangular, but the tops of them are all flat. I climb up on top of one and descover a whole array of the things stretching out in front of me. I hop from one to the other finding the shapes to grow in complexity the further I explore. Luke’s following behind me but is taking a different route. He’s withing ear shot but is choosing to spend more time peering down the gaps between each structure, as well as searching for easier routes where the gaps are smaller, and the climbs up are easier. As we press on there appear to be more and more tiled structures stretching out into the distance, developping into a landscape with hills, cliffs and plains. I see a back wall ahead of me and walls to either side stretching up to a high, flat ceiling, all covered with identical square bathroom tiles. As we gain height I notice I can no longer see the floor in between the gaps but rather a luminescent blue/grey fog. Before the back wall I near a tremendous bowl shaped drop in front of me, filled with the same blue/grey mist. on the other side I see a fleck of green and descide to go investigate it. I shout to Luke that I’m going to take a look on the other side of the big hole. He gestures an ‘OK’ sign in the air. I round the edge of the hole where the floor narrows between the drop and the wall to my right. the floor also slopes towards the hole like the rim of a pitcher plant. I now see it’s a green plant ahead of me. approaching it I see it’s a venus fly trap growing from inside a tall flute glass shaped porceline structure. The mouth of the venus fly trap is serated with white fangs. I blow on the plant and the head closes up slowly, revealing the inside of the flute glass which begins to gush with water. Jets spurt out from the sides of the glass inside like a giant pitcher plant. Inside the glass there is mist also, but this is green rather than blue. At this point I remember thinking how happy I am not to be an insect else I could have been flushed down into the flute glass. By this point the light is fading, so I turn back and head out. Nearing the big abbyss I hear another, louder gushing sound of running water. Looking out at the edges of it I see rows of flowing taps and soap despensers pumping out blue and pink liquid. The fluids mix together into a slippery mess along the narrow rim I must traverse to get back I step down onto the ledge but soon realise I have absolutely no grip and clutch the slippery sides with two hands. I’m completely stuck as the dream ends, and can’t move a limb lest I lose my footing completely and slip down the slipe into the abbyss.

This dream took place whilst I was staying with James, Juliane and co at christmas time. I had just had a long and and intense conversation with Luke about my sexuality and past relationships as well as my recent struggle with depression.

My thoughts as to the analysis of this dream are that the environment of it represents dissociation since the world I enter into is inorganic, fabricated and sterile bar one plant which really stands out with it’s delicate leaves and intricate blending from green to red towards the mouth. The big abbyss I think represents depression, since I feel a great dread as I come near to it. The two colours of soap I think represent the two genders; ‘baby blue and soft pink’. I think the water represents the unconcious since it flows towards the luminescent misty depths beneath the structures from which lift grows.  As to the meaning of the dream, my hunch is that it’s my unconcious inviting me to face my fear of feeling the great amount of sadness in grieving for my childhood. I’m not certain about this meaning however. My therapist invited me to consider a new form of dream analysis around rewriting the dream, making changes which could help me escape the ‘disaster scenario’ of being dragged into the abbyss but instead being safe on the surface. It’s an interesting idea, but i’m not certain the abbyss in necessarily a bad thing.  If depression is like pushing down on a spring, perhaps the best thing I can do is embrace the feeling rather than stay at a surface level? . . .

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Health, Wealth and Happiness (Part 1)

So after a long, long period of worsening isolation and deepening depression, I’ve decided to return to this blog and take up the sword once more in the battle for my happiness and wellbeing.  I’ve broken down this post into 3 main areas I’m currently working on to change my lifestyle for the better; health, wealth and happiness.

Health

 Inspired by an email Cancer Research UK sent me recently about  cancer beating lifestyle changes, I’m incorporating these 10 steps into my life.

1. Keep to my mealtime routine. Breakfast at 7, lunch at 1, dinner at 6. Shop once a week and plan meals. Get up at 6 and go to bed at 10.
2. Eat a balanced diet. Include veggies, dairy, cereals, meats and sweets in healthy portions. 5 a day. Remember, you’re not a duck, chew your food.
3. Get walking, keep walking. 60-90 minutes of moderate exercise per day plus an extra hour in a sports club or centre activity per week.
4. Snack healthily. Ditch the fatty chrisps and chocolate bars, instead pick fruit or a rivita-ish thingy’m'jig.
5. Up on my feet. Break up time spent sitting with a 5-10 minute break every hour to stretch my legs. Stand rather than sit on the bus, tram and train. (burns 70cal/hour)
6. Posture. Sit up straight, breath from the diaphragm and relax the tension in my muscles.
7. Brush my teeth an extra time each day after lunch. Give flossing a go, what can it hurt?
8. Drop the drink. No more alcohol, nuff said.
9. Exercise your brain. It’s a muscle, use it or lose it!
10. Lastly, don’t forget to dance, every day, and sing in the shower, skip to the shops and jig whilst stiring your mornig porridge.

Wealth

So I’m pretty damn far in the hole. It’s so true what they say about drug addicts; they will not quit until they hit rock bottom.  I’m not a student anymore so I’m throwing myself out into the cold harsh world of capitalism once more. Here’s 5 of my short term steps to achieve a reasonable revel of financial sanity.

1. Apply! Now that funds are running low, it’s time I get my CV out there and get applying to here there and everywhere to get a new job ASAP.
2. Quit Spending. Time to tighten my belt and limit my outgoings again until I’m back in the black.
3. Shop weekly. Sew up holes in old clothes, look in charity shops, reduced foods, etc.
4. Write up a budget. Using the information available figure out my spending and set appropriate and actionable goals.
5. Sell stuff! I’ve got bits and bobs lying about I could try sticking on ebay so why not give it a go?

Happiness

I’m taking a big pause right now before writing this section. My mind’s drawing blanks while I feel a lot of anxiety, sadness and shame in this area.

Just like health and wealth, happiness is the fruit of labouring over changing your habits. Happiness is the product of living your values and working to better the world for the future of our children. Above all what I really value in my friendships is honesty, curiosity, compassion, solicitude, kindness, justice, modesty, integrity and patience, amongst others.

At the moment I live approximately 1% of the virtuous and noble life I could be living. This represents the percentage happiness I could be experiencing If I pursued building and nourishing my friendships, journalling again and advancing the cause of freedom.

I’ll be posting more on this topic soon to report on my progress in these three areas and to flesh out my thoughts on the matter. If you who are reading this has any input or feedback you’d like to offer I’d love to hear it.

Vegetarianism/Veganism

At the risk of sounding provocative, my current attitude towards vegetarianism might be best summed up by Greg G in a debate on the subject on the Freedomain Radio forums:

‘Fuck the wales, SAVE ME!’

For years I have moralized the issue, railed against meat eaters for not caring about animal welfare, written to politicians, gone to protests, handed out leaflets and maintained a strict vegan diet. In the last year this all stopped, and I’ve gone back to being just plain veggie, nonetheless the moral question is still on my mind. In this post I want to lay the subject to rest. I know from plenty of personal experience that with such a murky and politicised area of ethics, there’s no bullet-proof argument I can use. At least I’ve not once found a debate end in peaceful agreement or understanding.

Whilst I don’t think killing animals is wrong, torturing them certainly is, and eating too much of it is of course unhealthy. Nonetheless meat and/or dairy products are essential parts of the human diet. Whilst you can apparently get by on supplements of vitamin B12, calcium, zinc and Vitamin D (the list goes on) it would be irresponsible to raise a child veggie, just as it would to maintain the diet whilst pregnant or breastfeeding in the face of the dire risk of malnourishment and protein deficiencies.

If we’re to test the hypothesis that ‘eating meat is bad’ is a valid moral claim, we can run through the logic using the rational framework of what is universally preferable behaviour. Before we can say it stands to reason, it must apply to all people with the capacity for free will in all places at all times.  Surely the statement falls at the first hurdle. Ethics doesn’t apply to animals since they don’t have free will. Of course nobody of a sound mind would argue that a lion is immoral for taking down a gazel, nor that all carnivorous species should die out in order to conform to this ethical rule on their behaviour. This doesn’t mean however that we can’t have compassion for their welfare, and extend to farm animals the right to descent and humane conditions and treatment. Any individual who prefers this should be free to act on it, and I’ve every reason to expect less meat consumption and higher standards of animal welfare in the absence of a government which subsidizes production.

This leads me to the real focus of my argument against the politicized and moralized vegetarian agenda. When we live in a world where children go mistreated and unheard in their billions, where wars devastate whole continents and obliterate entire cities, where whole classes are held in poverty through coercive state policies, shouldn’t we seriously be be reassessing our idea of triage before worrying so much about issues like this? My thoughts on this aspect also echo those of Stef, who posted in the same thread as the quote above:

‘I say: Let’s focus on saving animals after we have stopped the murder and imprisonment of millions of people through the state and the church’

The Dispossessed – A Review

This sci-fi novel by Ursula K Le Guin is really quite unique. Aside from simply being brilliantly written and wonderfully creative, there’s an exploration of society and psychology which I found fascinating to see her perspective on. What gives its utopian genre a twist in it’s tail is the ambiguity. A few pages in and the topic of Anarcho-syndicalism can be seen coming into view, the freedom, efficiency and happiness of the colonists of Anares is praised and we’re soon shown the contrast of the luxurious exess of the society of Urras. Further into the narrative however, we reach a tipping point, and this black and white contrast is nothing like it seems, doubts creep in and begin undermining our preconceptions of the two constructed societies.

Our protagonist Shevek, is also shown in a favourable light which later becomes ambiguous to the reader as the cracks in his utopian home begin to emerge. He remains a propagandised proponent of the Annaresti cultural system, though upon discovering an entirely different lifestyle where he has his own property, the urge for individuation in him comes out, and his desire for solitude and personal space starts to shine through.

Through this ambiguity we’re shown the tyrrany at the heart of both the Urrasti and Annaresti worlds. On Urras, personal liberty and economic freedom is oppressed through the violent regime imposed by the armed forces of its heavily centralised and dictatorial states.  On Annares, individual choice and is curbed through two things; the reality of needing to work within the existing system to survive in such a barren and harsh environment; and secondly the hegemonic use of social ostracism which abounds around non-conformists such as Shevek.

Le Guin’s invention of a possessive-less language, is pure genius. Language geek that I am I love word play like this, and it points out several aspects of english which are tied to our cultural traditions. We can’t for example address anyone without implying their relative status to us through formality and mode of address. This norm appears non-existent in Le Guin’s world on Annares, and no custom is taken for granted as the expected norm.

In summary this is well worth a read if you enjoy exploring these ideas, given the depth of a good understanding of the impact of propaganda upon human psychology and language. The two themes of violent oppression and social ostracism against those who question societal norms, are central to the real life system we’re in. Again very well worked and put together and definately a must-read.

Castaway

The question on my mind: How better could I prop up the nihilist in me, the pessimist in me who sees the world as a barren and scarred desert scape; the abusers’ ghosts in me who drag down my aspirations with accusations of my being deluded and impressionable; how better could I help my false self blossom than by sealing myself off from friends, neglecting this blog and  journal, and staying out of therapy.

This solitude feels so cold, it’s a dark and parched place to be. That’s the earth my false self grows best in, where it smothers and strangles all else, letting nothing flower. As a gardener, wrestling with this monster is an uphill battle. So long as the sun and rain can’t get to it, it’s impervious to anything I could throw at it.

Back when i was a child I’m sure my eyes light up at at the world, with so much to explore and experiment with, I had a million questions and was always looking for answers. The way it all worked to me seemed like magic, but there was always an answer to every question, and every answer sprouted a dozen more questions. I would cling to my parents as all-knowing teachers, demanding this curiosity be fed. Through their eyes I learnt who I was, everything they attacked themselves with I internalised and have used to fight myself ever since. Giants 10x my size, they had the power to nourish, or starve me, to attack or protect me.

Now I’m free from them, they hold no power over me. But their ghosts still reside in my mind, as ghosts in the shell of a bureaucracy from which they would sit and dictate my life, pulling no levers but heart strings of shame, and keeping me isolated, in the dark. These ghosts are what work the propaganda machine I internalised, turning rageful violence into a happy, foggy memory. These are the real enablers to the abuse I suffered as a child, as well as my self attack and criticism which continues into the present.

They’re in direct opposition to my well-being. My parents won’t benefit from my continued self attack so long as I remain out of association with them, though the shadows they cast on my soul linger on, the hooved foot prints they left in my spirit as they trod me down are still fresh, and left stinging wounds.

In the face of this pain, it’s seeing friends which blows away the cobwebs and exposes it. Their reassurance and curiosity give me the strength to unearth the deep roots of these dark weeds.  It’s with our exchange of honesty and mutual support which is the light shining on me, the rain which nourishes me and brings out the true colours of my child self.

I’m writing to express the great impact I think seeing such great people in Philadelphia will do for me, just like meeting people in the UK have been the milestones to which I compare my happiness and progress. If you’re reading my blog, and we know each other well, the likelihood is your friendship means the world to me.  It’s up to me to reach out to you. I trust that help is right at my fingertips. There is no drought, nor any famine, yet I starve beside a feast within a fork’s reach.

I’m renewing my committment to connect with people, to open up to the light again no matter how much it stings.

Cultural Warfare

Bucked off the Red Bull, Stalked by the Black Dog.

‘Some say that boredom is rage spread thin, I think that depression is outrage spread thinner.’ – Stefan Molyneux

I’ve just come down from another distracted hyper state, fuelled I think by my addiction conformity. Just like for any addict, this depression is designed to set me at war with myself, others and reality, to keep me doubtful of what I’m fighting for, blinded to the power of truth, and despairingly rageful about the state of my life and of the world.

This resentment, this hopelessness, is I think an endemic condition of our culture, and the core of the depression I feel cropping up. When it dawns on me as surely as sunrise, that I don’t have an eternity to waste away worried and doubtful, in conformity and dissociation – I’m faced with an important choice.  Either I give in to this depression, and fall on my own sword; or I confront it, and take on this black dog that has been on my tail since I can remember.

Reason = Virtue = Happiness

‘Depression is a way for society to inoculate itself from the truth tellers.’ – Stefan Molyneux

One of the foundation blocks of philosophy is this basic formula: reason = virtue = happiness. What has just clicked for me is that supporters of culture generally understand this fact so much more deeply and instinctualy than I perhaps ever will conceptually as a philosopher. Since if I’m not happy, then what am I save a big advertisement against the rational philosophy which I claim to promote. . . A truth teller is surely supposed to be happy, they say, ergo we get this principle. Logically the message I’m putting out is that I’m either acting in a non-virtuous manner, or that I’m irrational. If either of these are true, it is I think because I’ve been keeping philosophy in an abstracted conceptual part of my life – without applying it in my life.

No Surrender

‘A grey life is a white flag’ – Stephan Molyneux

If conformity to culture serves to keep us small, in-fighting and swarming to the state, then that is an addiction worth outgrowing. I could hardly have  called it my choice to be so drawn to philosophy, but however I got here, This is a fork in the road for me. I know I’m capable of shouldering my way through the anxiety I feel about this. I’m following my instincts and pursuing the happiness which living my stated values has shown me already.

Media coverage of my break from the family

Watching this pantomime play itself out in the media circus, has for me been a humiliating, insulting, depressing, yet somehow strengthening experience. So much time and effort has been rallied by one politician’s outrage at her son’s choice to leave a voluntary relationship with her – but my question is; why is it that the parent’s side of the story, their say, so drowns out the sympathetic defence of the child? Why is my voice shouted down? How is it just, for so many to gang up with an adult’s childhood bullies?

Contrary to the generally held and biased view informed by the testimony of my mother and father, no one has ever advised me to leave my family. I’ve recieved sympathy from a few friends and members of FDR for the trauma and intimidation inflicted by my father’s violent mood swings, and I was reminded that since becoming a free adult, my relationship with my parents is entirely voluntary.

To criticise this bias, and to address the accusations of my being brainwashed, manipulated and tricked; I want to pose a question; how can these reporters pretend objectivity and tell me I deserve a voice, when it is they who are railing against and huranging the people who showed me sympathy for being a victim of child abuse, and supporting my freedom of association?

I grew up with a rageful and dangerous father, my mother married this guy and has since argued that by staying married to him, by ‘not rocking the boat’ (her words) and ordering me not to bring it up, she protected me.

What has so deeply saddened me about this is not the violence, it’s not the repression of my anger and discontent, it’s not even that my parents have not admitted to the evil they’ve committed. What calls for me to really dig deep, and to screw my courage to the sticking place for the sake of other abused children, is the realisation that I live in a world whose people do everything they can to hush up and sweep under the carpet the violence at the root of our society.

On a street where neighbours within earshot of the shouting choose to turn a blind eye, in a system where teachers pick up on a loss of aspiration amongst their students, and just as quickly explain away their conscience with accusations of their laziness.  Imagine what a weight off my shoulders it was to have 18 years of pain, before ignored, ridiculed and suppressed, now validated – at last! There are people in this world who care!

I want to show my real gratitude to everyone who saw me and helped to pick me up when I fell. They’ve saved me from a life lost to depression, isolation and evasion. Thanks to them I feel as though I’ve stepped out of the cold, this depression is now like a released spring leaping into a new and happy life.

To me, showing how grateful I am is in living my life to its fullest, in learning what it is to love and be loved, and by being there for people in search of the same sympathetic witness to their suffering as a child, that I have gained so much from.

To make good on this choice to join the philosophical movement of setting people free, I wan’t to find empathy for human ignorance of the stoneage philosophy this generation has inherited. The compassion I really feel for people here comes from being in that situation before my exposure to the ideas at Freedomain Radio. I want to learn how to communicate this message of love, and liberation with the positivity, gentleness and firmness the challenge requires.

Procrastination

Why is it that the more I have to do, the less I get done, but when there’s no outside pressure to do anything, I’ll be staying busy, and taking initiative to find my own work to do?

Frankly, the only thing we’ve got to do in life is die at the end of it. There are no promisses I need to keep, no committments I have to follow through on, no assignments which must get done.

If I had no choice but to do these things, what virtue could there be in doing them? What is ethics without free will?

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In the past, whenever I’ve seen a task as completely essential, no matter what ambivalence or aversion I’d feel about doing it, the only option I saw was forcing myself to to it through sheer willpower.

After I realised that there truly are no ’should’s or ‘have to’s,  willpower really looks more and more to me like enstating a kind of tyrrany on yourself in which you’re just ordering yourself about.

Doesn’t this just put an ironic twist to ‘being your own boss’?

In a situation where you’re feeling seriously conflicted – say one part of you is for and another against doing something – you can either sit down with these two perspectives and mediate the dispute – and work out what triggers the feeling and motivates those feelings – or blindly ignore both and plough on ahead regardless.

It’s this third option which is the real null zone I get stuck in – procrastination.

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Since this problem has grown measurably to the extent to which, with age, I’ve attained more personal freedom, I know it’s not that I resent the things I put off.

I don’t think that this is a problem with any easy, quick-fix, effective in the long run. Not even Atlas could simply shrug off such a complex and weighty problem.

No, it’s digging deeper to the roots of where this dictatorial mind-set has come from where I think I can find peace of mind.

With an honest glance at our formative years, we’re raised to believe in a world of ’should’s and ‘have to’s. That’s the lie which keeps us enslaved to the whims of those in power over us, and addicted to the drug of harsh willpower.

It’s time to realise that willing feelings away is not the answer, but only a distraction.

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To wrap up, this feels like a huge topic, I’m sure I’m only just scratching the surface here. I’m finding it helpful getting these ideas into perspective though, so I think it’s worth doing the subject justice.

Being a problem which has grown in isolation, I’d really appreciate your ideas on this as always.