Thursday, October 29, 2009

Fairy Tales between the Lines

I've had the pleasure of meeting many people throughout my life, some of which I've even had deeper emotional connections to. However, in my most recent bout of introspection, I've come to the conclusion that my approach to relationships, that is,a highly compartmentalized methodology to hold advantages of psychological distance and control, is perhaps not really the best way to go about doing things. Inf act, some of the problems I allude to in earlier writings, for example the growing lack of awareness of the cohesive 'whole' world around us, directly stem from the very processes I embody as both defense and conceptual mechanisms.

But why do people fragment their lives? Why do I and by extension, others compartmentalize portions of our existence into black boxes? I suppose that the context I am speaking of has to do with social interactions.

All of us do it. We place friends in different areas of our lives, knowing that there are people we seek out for distinct benefits as compared to others. There are the confidants, the ones we go to to hang out, the ones we seek for romantic companionship, the ones we go to because we're alone. In many ways, this causes us to fragment our identities into different portions, each of which we exclusively express to specific people. But why is this? Do we feel that this is a mechanism to prevent any form of awkward turtle birthing based on common similarities? Or is it something deeper?

Personally, I do believe that fragmentation is done in order to smooth out social interactions and prevent any one person from knowing 'too much.' It is at once a defense and a coping mechanism, allowing us to effectively connect with other people without the danger of severely compromising ourselves on the basis of someone knowing too much. This reduces our investment by each individual person and thus, if we lose someone in our network, it doesn't impact us quite as emotionally as it would have been had they known more of who we are. To be more precise, it wouldn't impact as much as if we had known they know us more.

People who we connect to, we foster a bond with, and the like are those we want to somehow connect back with us. Rare is the notion that we do not seek reciprocity; in fact, I would argue that many of our interactions in terms of emotional and intellectual discourse demonstrates a huge want of just that. We want people to know us and want to know us, perhaps because it fulfills our social need to be accepted. A person curious in who we are demonstrates a want of who we are, further affirming our personalities, identity, and self-worth.

Yet, there are lines drawn in the sand marking where they cannot pass, and barriers that oftentimes cannot be broken. The investment in any one substantial person greatly increases the risk, and thus we have been wired to not disperse our full personalities to everyone we know. Those who are able to reach that limit (or at least approach) either have incredible emotional tolerance and stamina or are hurt all the time and require their social network to 'shield' them from the outside.

These two contradicting viewpoints, the need to protect ourselves and the need for social reciprocity, are the underlying cause for relationship micromanagement. We relate only with people in ways we seek for them to reciprocate in. The conflicts that arise oftentimes occur when this underlying 'similarity' between two people is challenged. One person wishes for something else, and it falls apart under strain. One person does not require reciprocity and withdraws. All the myriad of dysfunctions and breaking friendships result when our perception of what we wish from someone else changes, and to be conscious both of our own perception and others perhaps is a skill that should be cultivated.

Wouldn't it be nice to know everything about your friend, so that things will never be awkward? And wouldn't it be nice for her to know everything about you, so that she'll reciprocate as you desire? Sadly, such ideal situations are at best, a blue moon an at worse, the unattainable dream fairy tales are written of.

Today is chilly, but the temperature is rising. Therefore, I am lazy.

Cheers.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

The Rationality of Irrationality

One of my classes I"m taking in great ol' grad school happens to be Organizational Behavior. Please note that ever since I was an undergraduate freshman not doing anything exciting with my life, I have always been at least partially oriented to the humanities, ranging from literature to sociology and, in undergrad, anthropology. Even in my currently more 'advanced' program, I am still stunned with the concepts and skills I have developed in these 'useless' soft classes; namely, by function of ho applicable they are.

Despite my objections that studies such as psychology, sociology, and even in some respects anthropology can be classified as 'hard science' (that is, with heavily defined terms and extremely specific and controlled cases), I cannot deny that the insights we gain from our poor skill in analyzing super complex systems actually have some legitimate. Perhaps it is not so easy to break down the world to a bunch of pieces that somehow all make sense when put together, and it is instead a better strategy to look upon the world as a single large system of which we perhaps would never know the truth of. The musicians, creatives, and other right brained people are probably rejoicing that one of those silly rationals has finally 'come around.'

However, I state this not because it is empirically better (and by extension, empirically worse) than the alternative, but to shed light upon the possible benefits this might have to people as a whole. While specific systems and incredibly well defined terms are great at parsing the identity of individual elements, such analysis is less effective in viewing emergent properties that are functions of individual properties too small or insignificant to properly express. Much like the codon which doesn't code for anything, but instead acts as a promoter gene, these little things oftentimes cascade into major effects, and it is only through holistic, macroscopic study that we can identify how the snowball grows as it rolls down a hill.

But of course, large macroscopic systems are composed of far too many factors for any of us to effectively manage as an individual; thus, it is necessary for us to make estimations whenever we can for the sake of our poorly developed (or poorly utilized) brains. Welcome to the world of estimation, where unfortunately, our innate biases as individuals now become the standard of which we build other concepts and learn new things. When estimation occurs, inherently the rational framework we all aspire to use becomes subjective; this is the rationality of irrationality. Whether there are other reasons for such behaviors is unclear, but we certainly can identify the need in simply controlling the information input we can deal with at any given time.

Does this mean that I don't believe there exists a universal rational 'logic' or process? Absolutely not. What I mean to say is that while or while not something so grand and all-encompassing can exist, we as people cannot handle the use of such methods, even if we aspire for such. Logically, therefore, we must use heuristics and biases; we must be subjective for otherwise, we would intake so much information that our heads might veritably explode in a shower of grey and white matter. Bridging the differences in communication between people, therefore, is a much more realistic goal to aspire towards than total understanding, although ideally we should be focusing on both in order to further our own development.

And I need to wax just as much eloquent on my Organizational Behavior exam coming up in about fifteen minutes.

Today is sunny, BUT yesterday was raining. Therefore, I am lazy.

Cheers.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Colors in the Wind

When I look back at my life, I wonder how much different it is from what I perceived it to be. Things that I took for granted, like carer, future, friends, and family, seem to be as mutable as sand is to a child building a castle or water is as it cascades from a rickety tin roof. Perhaps it is simply my old age, but slowly I have come to realize that my level of control, and by extension all others, is simply not as deep or as complete as I wish it was. However, in tandem, I have realized that my degree of influence is probably higher than I wish it to be, illuminating my all-or-nothing viewpoint on personal relationships. Either way, these past few weeks have been full of revelations showcasing that while I feel old, I am still very young as well.

So why the self-expressive post from a writer who claims to love objectivity? I suppose there are certain philosophical concepts that can only be expressed emotionally and personally; the passage of time, for example. The mutability of the future. The capacity for all of us to change for the better, or change for the worse.

Like watercolors trailing off into the spiral of a drain, our plans often become discarded and fade away into a swirl of emotion. Sometimes, we might be disappointed at seeing our masterpiece become wrecked so easily and other times, we might be gratified at the change that pushes us off and away from our native lands. One central conflict all of us encounter throughout lives is this concept of control over time, over events that are far larger than us. It is no surprise that whenever people feel pressured, they exert control over objects in their proximity in a psychological algebraic equation. But is this all we can do? Is there some other way of dealing with the aftermath of a watercolor whirlpool other than painting a new picture as soon as possible?

We are all slaves to time and perhaps, we should simply accept it. There are things in the world that we cannot control and certainly, things we believe we control but in reality do not. Perhaps by stepping back from the portraits we paint, form the ideas we have of the future, we can more effectively deal with the passage of time. Sure, commitment to an ideal is well, ideal (pun intended) but the ability to be flexibility is even moreso. Paradoxically, in order to be able to discard plans, ideas, lifestyles we have grown accustomed to takes either a legendary emotional tolerance or simply put, less initial investment.

Yet in some ways, there is a beauty to time's ravages. The idea that everything we have done and will do can easily be swept away so callously, that carefully groomed flowers blossom only to have their petals scattered in the breeze, that our lives are somehow shaped to by things greater than what we are is terrifying but great. Though difficult to see, it is this beauty that I take hold of, gazing at the colors in the wind.

Today is sunny, but I'm contemplative in my solitude. Hence, I am lazy.

Cheers.