On Being a Good Mammal, and the Ensuing Isolation

Wherein jef, at the very end, takes a faltering step towards living unsafely again.

So there's this thing that's been on my mind. I'm going to tell you about it, even though it's none of your business, ok? I was first able to put it into words in an IM session with a buddy of mine:
---
(01:41:51 PM) derthnada: i often think that the human experience is a slow spiral towards self-imposed isolation resulting from our innate reaction to unpleasant stimuli
(01:42:14 PM) derthnada: it is a compilation of fears
(01:43:15 PM) derthnada: the very reaction that, in youth, teaches us how to survive in a world full of dangers also contributes to our spiritual death by shadowing every decision with past experiences where at least one of the possible outcomes has hurt us before
---

See, when it comes to learning to survive, we are one-trick ponies. It goes like this: we touch a hot stove, and we learn that it hurts. A switch has turned on in us at a very fundamental level, saying "don't touch that stove when it's on." But we don't stop there. We abstract it: "Hot stoves, in general, are painful."

This very simple pattern is probably the most primal, instinctive, and (frankly) useful strategy for self-preservation that we have. It trumps higher-level "head" learning, simply because these life lessons reside (or at least start) in a very animal, emotional place. Their only mechanism is fear, and fear is powerful.

Now, these little fears build up over time, like sediment. And in so doing, they create a remarkable emergent pattern that helps us to navigate the dangers of life by keeping us from constantly walking into the clutches of known hazards. The more of these fears we've developed, the more likely we are to stay safe. We'll recognize more things that we'll "know better" than to do or say, and more activities to shy away from because they remind us of other dangerous activities...and so on.

It's not just kinesthetic, either. You ever hear someone say that they'll never fall in love again? I used to think that was total whiny bullshit. But now I can practically hear it...BAM!...a new fear switch being thrown as a result of that person's rejection or pain. Drama and hyberbole aside, they now know for certain--for themselves--that love can produce pain. The remarkable thing is that they learned this lesson through exactly the same mechanism that taught them not to touch the hot stove when they were 2 years old.

Stoves. Passion. One-trick ponies.

Now, there are other nuances to this process, I know, like the impact of intensity, reinforcement, rational overriding, the experiments that hone down the generalizations, etc. I recognize that. But they don't really impact my point, so I'm just gonna leave them be.

Speaking of my point...where, exactly, in this long-winded, half-baked jumble of mixed metaphors, is it?




It's here! -> So this mechanism...it's about self-preservation, protection, and nothing else. That's important, because it never really stops as long as we're alive. With each experience, the sediment builds and builds, inexorably. And as it does, it seems like most of us eventually pass some point in life where our sense Wonder and Openness towards new experiences starts to sag under the weight and give way, more and more, to Reluctance and Aversion. And why not? The fewer risks you take, the less you're contributing to your own chances of demise, right? So becoming jaded is...it's biological. It's a SURVIVAL STRATEGY based on pain avoidance, and if you've lived long enough to reach the point of becoming jaded--when you're mostly cynical about what life has to offer, closed up against intrusions of intimacy, and running out of people that you actually trust--then....

Well, that just means it's working. That sense of isolation you feel means that your primary defense mechanism has been doing its job.



And so it was that I woke up one morning and realized that, despite my active life, comfortable relationship, and cool friends, I had somehow, in the midst of it all, become terribly,

terribly

lonely.


This really blind-sided me. "How did this happen? I used to be so open...I was practically infamous for it! This isn't who I am!" Well, now I have some idea how it happened. The progression may have been completely natural, but I feel that I have lost something in becoming safer and in not encouraging others' trust. I don't want to live this way, so...there's only one thing to do, and only one honest way to do it.

Thus began jef's very public exploration of his most privatest touchy-feely parts in an effort to learn how to engage openly again.

Loneliness, you have company! Meet Scared Shitless and A Little Bit Hopeful.

suck it, j-spot

Looks like I'll be letting this blog idle for a while. I was really hoping to have a very picture-heavy thing going on here, but the only site of the ones I've tried (including flickr) that I didn't have trouble uploading to was Facebook, so that's where an abbreviated collection of pics will be for now.

Today we stumbled into history...and there's written evidence to prove it.

After breakfast this morning, we decided to wander over to the Imperial Palace, simply because it was the closest obvious "attraction" to our hotel. It was a pleasant walk through clean streets and the beginning of the park that surrounds the palace. The weather was beautiful...a bit on the warm side, even, if you want to know the truth. (Do you?)

Initially, it didn't seem as if the public was being allowed onto the the grounds proper of the palace, but eventually we discovered the tents that were set up to greet people who were visiting on this particular day. We passed through 3 checkpoints of the most polite, yet thorough, security (bag check, wanding, and frisking) and eventually meandered up to a long row of tents. There, people were lining up to sign some document or other. We were reluctant at first, since all the signatures appeared to be in very nice calligraphic kanji, but the attendants were very encouraging, we stepped up signed with our sideways scratchty hancocks.

As it turns out, today is the Emperor and Empress's 50th anniversary. So, on today only, for a window of only about 6 hours, the people were given an opportunity to sign their names in order to wish the Emperor and Empress a happy 50th anniversary.

It doesn't sound like much, I know. But for some reason, after all the other neat stuff we saw and did today, when we stumbled back to the hotel room, we all remarked about the remarkable serendipity that allowed us to participate in such a simple, but unique, event. And we left our signatures to prove it.

grr

I've been trying to upload pics all morning, but this connection is killing me. I'll try again later...

a preponderance of snot

I'm convinced that the likelihood of a person getting sick in proximity to a specific event is directly proportional to either (or both):

1. that person's excitement about the event itself
2. how much more inconvenient it would be to be sick during the event, over and above the usual inconvenience of such an illness

I am no exception to the laws of the universe. If I am cut, do I not bleed? If I tickled, do I not laugh? If I forget to do the dishes...well...again, do I not bleed?

You see where I'm going with this.

Yup, I got a cold. Two measly days before I leave for Japanland, I get sick. It's not a big deal, normally. Sure, I feel like crap now, but it'll pass soon enough, right? No point in complaining. The problem, however, is threefold: I'm sneezy and congested, I'm going to a country where one of the most effective and common decongestants known to man is illegal, and nose-blowing is considered disgusting and rude. What's my out, here? What creative ways must I invent to handle these copious amounts of mucus? Perhaps a CamelBak, only in reverse...

Anyway, my spirits shall not be dampened! This time tomorrow, I'll be, like...halfway there!

Whence and Where-not

So, this is me, more or less.

I chose this picture randomly, so it's not necessarily representative of much. Although, I suppose you could learn a thing or two about me from looking at it. I appear to like cookies, for instance (or at least having cookies nearby). I work in a cubicle that is usually messy. I'm slowly but steadily losing my hair. I like Warhammer and similar sorts of nerd fodder. I don't attempt to hide my camera-phone arm when taking camera-phone self-portraits.

Though these observations are fascinating, to be sure, they do nothing to enlighten anyone as to the actual intent, on my part, behind the inclusion of this particular photograph in this, my once-in-a-lifetime Maiden Blog Post.

"So why all the dallying?" you ask. "Why not come out and tell us, jef...nada, or whatever the hang you call yourself?" you wonder. "I mean, you already said you chose it at random, and now you're insinuating that you had some purpose, after all...? It's your first blog entry, and you're losing our trust already!" you cry.

Settle down. ("But--" you attempt to feebly interject? Do not make me get all fisty on you!)

Ok, we ready now? Good. So here's the gimmick: this picture represents one thing only. In it, I am quite simply

not

in

Japan.


I provide this by way of contrast.