Monday, July 25, 2016

Universal Morality, an Ethnocentric Theory?

This mini essay is a little rough. I wrote it in a spurt last night as it just sort of came out of me like vomit (the majority of my writing comes to me that way). Anyway, it has since been sparsely edited and is simply some food for thought. This particular chain of thought was spurred by a short debate I had about universal morality based around a specific example of violence against women in other cultures. Mt stance as feminist may take a hit from this, but I'm always willing to calmly discuss other points of view. I know it's a tricky topic.



I believe that we have no ground to stand on when judging the moralities of other cultures. Am I against the stoning of women? Yes, of course. But that arises from my own world, my own beliefs and my own culture. Judging the stoning of women in other cultures from this point of view does nothing but reassure my sense of personal "goodness". If, say, I wanted to eradicate the stoning of women from a certain culture, I'd have to learn the how and why and for what. I'd have to learn the desire to stone or the acceptance of such a fate in order to eradicate the action. To do any less would simply be attacking a symptom, and just like a disease, you must kill its heart in order to stop it from spreading. The issue is that if you immediately label anything as morally wrong, you hinder your ability to create a space where you could conceive how it would be the right course of action. It is in this space that you learn the truth of what needs to be eradicated. And from where I'm standing, to say I am against the stoning of women is inconsequential and does nothing but close my mind and bolster my sense of moral righteousness. So I do believe that, when appraising the moral standards of other cultures, I have no ground upon which to stand. I cannot pick and choose what is right and wrong in the lives of those I know nothing about. I will help to bring less suffering and more joy to anyone, always, if a path to do so ever becomes apparent. But I will not lay my own moral framework upon another's culture and use it to build myself up. The trouble with, maybe everyone, but I can say, for sure, the educated westerners, is we think we've got it figured out. We still view ourselves as enlightened even when our own culture is flummoxed at itself. Perhaps we can still view ourselves this way because we're so good at pointing our fingers at some other group of us, saying, "it's not us that's fucked up, we know better. We know the way, but it's them who are stopping us and fucking everything up. The trumps, the Clintons, the racists, the NRA, the Christians, the conservatives... They're the fuckups" Or the opposite quote from a different camp, "... the liberals, the atheists, the Sanders..."
We love to prescribe pity, moral frameworks, and heroic guidance to cultures that we view as more troubled than our own. We believe we're doing a favor in these acts, but the simple notion of any of these prescriptions proves our self-aggrandizing stance. We believe it is our education that gives us this ability to see the true lines drawn between right and wrong. But it isn't. It's our nation's power and money that keeps us from falling into the pit with the rest, as many may see it. It is our western culture's history of domination that today gives us the ability to believe in a universal morality to judge the faltering nations of those we abuse(d). You may feel in your human heart the connection to the suffering in other cultures because suffering crosses through borders unchanged. Human suffering is universal. But the motives to cause suffering are bred by very particular environments and sequences of events. The motives are not universal. And just as a child of abuse is more likely to grow up to abuse, our dominion of control and greed raised and bred a world fraught with hatred. How asinine an abusive father would look calling his abusive son out for his heinous actions. Sure, I'd agree with him that the abuse is wrong, but my hope and respect for the abuser who judges his abusive son would plummet to a depth I do not wish to fathom. Hypocrisy adds a layer of evil to anyone. So in an effort to save face and soul, just rid yourself of your moral high ground. It does little but make you look a fool.

What is your stance? In your universal morality is it right for us to speak for the systematically oppressed?

I have been told that for further reading on the topic: "Can the Subaltern Speak?"–Gayatri Spivak

Saturday, June 18, 2016

fuente de la juventud

When people ask me if I'm excited about Evergreen I never know how to answer.

I am, of course. It is my safety net... the portal that shoots me back into a realm where youthful chaos is so easily harnessed. That beautiful inconsistency of life keeps me not just awake, but alive.

I can't help but fear the day when I lose that safety net for good. I've learned I can't harness that chaos on my own; so when I fall back into the routine of nights that bleed into one another, with pints of ice cream slowly building on my small frame, is that where I stay? I cannot end up here. It's okay for now, but I swear this is not living.

So, yeah, I'm excited about heading back to college. But shaky and desperate as well, cuz I'm playing the last card I've got. I don't know what happens after.

A sentiment from a wise movie character: I've already gone to college, gotten married, divorced, had a baby and that baby is grown. So now what's left for me? What do I have to look forward to? Being a grandmother and then that's it. Then it's death, that's my next benchmark. Life moves unforgivingly fast.

I don't want my life to turn into benchmarks. Somehow it already has. I will be saved from it this time. But the next?

Sunday, June 5, 2016

Outer Peace, Inner Turmoil

The tumult is over–
walking along for twenty years
on fraying tight rope.
I've made it to the other side
and the rope is broken, gone.
Now I must get down from the platform,
and fall from the clouds.
Never knew the joy of that fear
until there was nothing left to be afraid of.

In a twister, I was spinning,
wishing for peace,
waiting for calm.
In the end I was dropped where I began.
The birds now sing of calm air,
a gentle breeze rustles my hair.
The sunlight exposes
the damage.
I sit on the ruins of my house.
The foundation is all that's left.
I meditate on the peace I once wished for.
I feel it surround me.
I wish for something new.
I wait to spin again.



Friday, May 27, 2016

Pick Me Up

Sometimes I feel as though I do nothing with my life. That I'm utterly lazy and my life is just a void.

This is to remind myself of my week:

Worked a full work week, even after a debilitating depression stole my weekend.

Went on two runs this week, so far.

Realized I was flexible... from stretching so much over the past month.






Was sick, then still went to work later that day when I felt better.

Fixed Ruby's headlight myself.

Ignore fuzzy finger!


Changed my own car's oil.

Harvested, processed, and packed mustard greens, kale, swiss chard, strawberries, lettuce, arugula, spinach, collard greens, radishes, bokchoi for the market I'm going to tomorrow (i.e. managed a farm).

Fed, ate, bathed, stayed alive myself--good job!

So, don't worry about it, okay?


Monday, May 23, 2016

Speak Candidly for All to Hear

Today, for the first time in my life, I got drunk.

Unfortunately, the circumstances were less than superb. I began drinking at 10 am because I had already been awake for two hours, lying in bed, wishing for the sweet relief of death, shaking and sobbing alone and [feeling] deserted. I decided that if I were to kill myself, I would quit my job so they did not worry when I didn't show up and then just drive nowhere, put a pillowcase over my head and shoot myself in the head. I clung to that image like a wet dream, allowing it to build angst within me. Angst at its mere existence and angst that it could not be, not now and likely not ever. But here, let me examine my thoughts:

[Sudden nihilism is a massive bummer. Where does the world go when you realize your reality was made of delusions to keep you going?]

Self-Pity: Nearly all of the pain I felt was due to self pity and the recognition of such made it worse. It's particularly annoying when you get stuck wanting to die, knowing that your only reason for angst is because you're lonely and life isn't living up to your expectations. You don't have any actual challenges... you're just stuck in your own dumb head. Amazingly, thinking this way doesn't help relieve the crushing feeling of self-loathing.

The Key: I kept picturing myself looking at other peoples' lives thinking "the only way to get yourself out of that hole you're in is if you pull yourself out, I can't do a damn thing to help you." So, of course, I know I have my own key. I am the only one who holds to the key to my freedom. Knowing this made my self-loathing EVEN worse because of course, all the blame is then on me and I'm the only one who can solve it. I know if I went outside or joined a frisbee team or ran around I could get out of the funk but the funk is self-hatred and it makes you feel like the only way to be true to yourself is to stay where you are. Plus, you simply can't comprehend interacting with the world in such ways. It sounds so simple, to get yourself out of it, but I promise it isn't easy.

Abandonment: I love people. I love people so much I try to own them, which isn't really a great quality. But they keep moving and I keep moving and eventually I realize I'm standing here alone. I can't call my tried and true loves over to me, they are on different continents, different time zones.... the lives we lead are no longer wrapped together and they might be at work when I'm having a "crisis," leaving me to suffer alone, feeling isolated and abandoned.

Reach Out: Yeah, okay. So, when you're literally at your worst you really REALLY don't feel like reaching out to people who haven't earned your trust in that way, and sometimes you don't even feel like reaching out to the ones who HAVE earned your trust. It doesn't help that you KNOW you are at your worst and most vulnerable and you don't want to be a burden to others. Who wants people around when they are at their worst? I mean, really. Not to mention, most of us have been burned by folks who recoil when we have "episodes" so it's hard to trust that people will just accept our neuroses.

The Dark: It is dark. It's very very dark. It feels like every day you don't want to be alive while simultaneously you can't stand not living life to the fullest. It is being constantly disappointed in yourself. For me, it's wondering where my despair comes from... is it grief? Is it loneliness? Is it perfectionism? Regardless, I end up not respecting myself for feeling such self-pity. I know my privileges, they are many, and my depression makes me feel even more like a loser for feeling bad living in a world where despair runs rampant and I am so fortunate.

The Mask: People probably wouldn't know I struggle with depression. They wouldn't know that I wake up every day feeling a sad realization that a new day has begun and I have to figure out how the fuck to deal with it. I'm generally a pretty up-beat person. I feel highs so fierce I'm sure I annoy some people I encounter. But with the highs come the lows and they are just as fierce. Sometimes when you are feeling low you pretend you aren't because it's easier for you to not have people worried all the time and easier on them to, because it isn't really their job to make sure you're okay. You never wanted that to be their job.


This isn't a cry for help. I cried for help earlier--not on the public world of the web. And now I am better. But I realize a fallout is imminent as that is simply how my family responds to my dark honesty. But despite my first ever drunken stupor, I'm doing okay. I have a blanket of wonderful people who allow me to be me, at all hours when I can reach them. I've made it through this one unscathed, so don't worry. Just rejoice.

But I post this for those who watch the flickering of the images of all those happy, successful lives and wonder why they are failing. You aren't failing, m'dear, you are living in a world made of varying energies and please know it's a blessing to delve into all of your vast emotions so fully. I'm trying to learn and teach that it is okay to not know anything for your whole life. Just experience the world, that is all we can do.

Everyone is talking about recovery. But I'm here to speak candidly about living the sorrows.

Depression is certainly not all I am. I do not exist within dichotomies and singular truths. But still I say, depression runs through my veins the same as my fierce joy about the worlds' infinity.


Friday, May 13, 2016

As I Stand Here, Waiting

Lay me bare, Keep me honest.

I stand here in front of you, naked. Flesh exposed but body still withholding dreams and fears and lies; truth and disguise. How do I begin the conversation of the brutality of life? If I splay my guts on the floor, still you will not see. How do I capture the invisible, untouchable truth of being human so as to present it to you? I want to hold it in my hand for you to see and touch, recoil, cry and begin again. Not that I hold the answers. I simply hold a sliver of the questions.

These words are all I have and I try so hard to enlighten with them. There is strength in the written word, my most powerful tool. But still, it all falls short. I must practice, endlessly, to touch you with my phrases.

Discuss with me, the truth of being human. Hold nothing back. Fire into oblivion and eventually we may light a fire that burns by the invisible energy of life. Some may call it love. I will call it capture.

...
(distill)

In case you do not understand, let me translate.

I don't want to stand here, alone, pondering the eternal intricacies of life. It makes me feel forgotten, unworthy... like I am spewing nonsense into a void and people stand around watching, scratching their heads wondering why I am so crazy.

I want to discuss life with everyone. But not the small talk of life. Not what you ate this morning or how your day was. I want to talk with you about the possibilities and how they are infinite. I want to go down rabbit holes of thought. I want to find temporary answers or truths and be validated by your reception and connection.  I want to create avenues with you. Avenues that we believe have never before been created.

I don't want answers or advice. I just want discussion.

...
(distill further)

Or... fuck, I think what I am saying is I am lonely and I'm having all these ideas and feelings and no one to bounce it off of. At least, no one who seems to want to engage with it as overwhelmingly as I. I guess that is the simplest way of saying what I mean.