The Ocean at the End of the Lane - Neil Gaiman
I'm struggling to find a way to properly characterize this book. Perhaps Neil himself said it best: It's an adult story told by a child. It's very hard to talk about this book without going into great detail as a literary criticism because the story really lends itself to that. I attended the release/book signing of it at Symphony Space in Manhattan, and it was an interesting night, to say the least.
I'd like to say that Neil is an absolute doll and I would do it again anytime as long as I could get a seat in the first 10 rows. Book signings take quite a while.
Back to the book itself. It's a story told as a memory back to when the narrator was a young boy and chronicles a short period of his life. During this time he sees a lot of terrible, eerie, supernatural things, and defeats them with the help of a friendly young girl named Lettie Hemstock.
The book is masterfully written, with just the right amount of everything. The introduction with the adult protagonist falling into memory, the thoughts and concerns of the boy, the change in him as things get more dire, and finally the disjointed ending as everything comes together. You can tell that Mr. Gaiman poured a lot of himself into this story and created something that you are meant to view as an allegory.
Because in a review you can't really dig deep into the storyline itself and I'm dieing to do a short critcism of the work, I'll be publishing a link to another post right after this. As far as the review goes, however, buy this book, read it, and really think about what is happening. This story happens on two levels, and it would be a shame to miss either of them.
June 29, 2013
April 21, 2013
Becoming an adult
This one goes out to Josh, because he asks me this from time to time.
So, occasionally a friend of mine asks me what made me realize that I was an adult. My first answer, back when he asked, was socks. I bought my own socks, and that's when I realized, 'Wow, I'm an adult'. Because I was burning my disposable income on a quality of life item like socks instead of something strictly entertainment purposes. I'll admit It was a goofy answer and only half-serious, but it remained my answer almost six months later when he asked me again so I suppose it stuck.
But I had a thought on the way home today while I was mulling over a few songs I'd been listening to. There's one song in particular - "Car Radio" by Twenty One Pilots - that really caught my attention. In the song the singer has had his car radio stolen and he's stuck driving with only himself for company, no music to distract him from his own life. His thoughts run away with him, and he wants to replace it just so he can stop being forced to think about his life on every car ride.
I'm going to be brutally honest right now - no matter how put together everyone appears to be on the outside, we're all just a genuine invitation away from a complete stranger away from bursting out with every fear and misgiving we're dealing with in our lives. Some people do it in journals, some people do it in drunken conversations, some people do it on blogs using thinly veiled allusions, but we all want to get it out.
That brings me back to our protagonist, the radioless man. He's locked away inside the car he's driving, nothing to distract him from the dissatisfaction of his lot, and he's wrecked by it. He talks about his pride being on his sleeve, the dreams (his own) he's killed and says 'I could just pull the steering wheel.'
The french have an idiom for this - "L'appel du vide" or the call of the void. 'I could just pull this steering wheel'. Terrifying, horrifying even.
Back to being an adult.
We're all scared, we don't really know what to do. This is our lot, of course. For the last few years I've always thought I knew how everything worked. I was under the impression I had it all figured out, if I was just a bit better at translating the runaway train of thought and transferring it to paper I could quantify the words that would make it okay for everyone.
I know that I was wrong. I couldn't write it then and I can't write it now. It's certainly not socks. Truly, I may only have just become an adult on this 'car ride' myself.
Because the moment I realized I was an adult was the moment I accepted that I would never know what it meant to be an adult, that I'd always be scared of something. That finally having everything together was always just out of reach. That no matter how much we think we know, there's still something more to be learned.
But hell, what do I know?
So, occasionally a friend of mine asks me what made me realize that I was an adult. My first answer, back when he asked, was socks. I bought my own socks, and that's when I realized, 'Wow, I'm an adult'. Because I was burning my disposable income on a quality of life item like socks instead of something strictly entertainment purposes. I'll admit It was a goofy answer and only half-serious, but it remained my answer almost six months later when he asked me again so I suppose it stuck.
But I had a thought on the way home today while I was mulling over a few songs I'd been listening to. There's one song in particular - "Car Radio" by Twenty One Pilots - that really caught my attention. In the song the singer has had his car radio stolen and he's stuck driving with only himself for company, no music to distract him from his own life. His thoughts run away with him, and he wants to replace it just so he can stop being forced to think about his life on every car ride.
I'm going to be brutally honest right now - no matter how put together everyone appears to be on the outside, we're all just a genuine invitation away from a complete stranger away from bursting out with every fear and misgiving we're dealing with in our lives. Some people do it in journals, some people do it in drunken conversations, some people do it on blogs using thinly veiled allusions, but we all want to get it out.
That brings me back to our protagonist, the radioless man. He's locked away inside the car he's driving, nothing to distract him from the dissatisfaction of his lot, and he's wrecked by it. He talks about his pride being on his sleeve, the dreams (his own) he's killed and says 'I could just pull the steering wheel.'
The french have an idiom for this - "L'appel du vide" or the call of the void. 'I could just pull this steering wheel'. Terrifying, horrifying even.
Back to being an adult.
We're all scared, we don't really know what to do. This is our lot, of course. For the last few years I've always thought I knew how everything worked. I was under the impression I had it all figured out, if I was just a bit better at translating the runaway train of thought and transferring it to paper I could quantify the words that would make it okay for everyone.
I know that I was wrong. I couldn't write it then and I can't write it now. It's certainly not socks. Truly, I may only have just become an adult on this 'car ride' myself.
Because the moment I realized I was an adult was the moment I accepted that I would never know what it meant to be an adult, that I'd always be scared of something. That finally having everything together was always just out of reach. That no matter how much we think we know, there's still something more to be learned.
But hell, what do I know?
March 7, 2013
Knowledge and Understanding
There's an old rather depressing remark that comes out whenever someone is lamenting their lot in life and it usually goes "It never gets any easier". It is said in many ways, tasted in many flavors, and pokes an already sore nerve.
Oddly (or not so oddly, one supposes), it turns out that as you get older you really understand it. When you're a child and you are tired of going to school, it never gets any easier. When you are an adult getting your first job and working 20 hours a week, it never gets any easier. When you go to college and have more exams on tougher classes, it never gets any easier. When you work your 40 hour weeks, do your own laundry, cook your own food, and pay your own bills it never gets easier.
It's funny how this phrase - so simple, so effectual, can be lost on us at every step of the way, every moment, such that it may always be a hindrance to us on reminder. We know it, we've lived it, our lives never become less complex. It is only in the barest moments of self-reflection does the realization come to us, and then is gone until we complain beside a witty friend.
There is a saying in Buddhism, "Don't mistake the finger pointing at the moon for the moon." It is a fairly simple idea and explains the flaw in our spoken language. We tell each other, explain to one-another, the wisdom we have gleaned and expect transformation. People will always say that things never get easier because it is simple to say it. But those words are not enlightenment, we have done nothing more then point at the moon while the other person looks to our finger.
This is also the logic behind meditating on koans and focusing on experiencing life in the moment. We are trying to teach ourselves to see the moon rather then watching for the fingers that point to it. We want to be a part of the reality of things rather then the representations that are before us.
So when you are told something, or something is explained to you, think on it and ponder the thing that is being spoken of instead of the words that are being used to convey it. Listen mindfully to those ideas, and understand them. Knowledge is simple, understanding is complex.
Oddly (or not so oddly, one supposes), it turns out that as you get older you really understand it. When you're a child and you are tired of going to school, it never gets any easier. When you are an adult getting your first job and working 20 hours a week, it never gets any easier. When you go to college and have more exams on tougher classes, it never gets any easier. When you work your 40 hour weeks, do your own laundry, cook your own food, and pay your own bills it never gets easier.
It's funny how this phrase - so simple, so effectual, can be lost on us at every step of the way, every moment, such that it may always be a hindrance to us on reminder. We know it, we've lived it, our lives never become less complex. It is only in the barest moments of self-reflection does the realization come to us, and then is gone until we complain beside a witty friend.
There is a saying in Buddhism, "Don't mistake the finger pointing at the moon for the moon." It is a fairly simple idea and explains the flaw in our spoken language. We tell each other, explain to one-another, the wisdom we have gleaned and expect transformation. People will always say that things never get easier because it is simple to say it. But those words are not enlightenment, we have done nothing more then point at the moon while the other person looks to our finger.
This is also the logic behind meditating on koans and focusing on experiencing life in the moment. We are trying to teach ourselves to see the moon rather then watching for the fingers that point to it. We want to be a part of the reality of things rather then the representations that are before us.
So when you are told something, or something is explained to you, think on it and ponder the thing that is being spoken of instead of the words that are being used to convey it. Listen mindfully to those ideas, and understand them. Knowledge is simple, understanding is complex.
February 26, 2013
Amber Alert: 100 Day Meditation Challenge Disappears at 35 days old
So I was burning up to write something - anything - about the meditation challenge since I'd let it slip off. There's always a mix of shame and relief when it comes to failing at something. You no longer have to give it your all, you no longer have to answer to yourself when you fail. No one enjoys that gentle slipping away and that feeling of 'not quite right' that settles in when you know you've given up on this day or that day. Giving up can sometimes feel too easy, with a seductive quality.
Years ago I was horribly overweight. Not just a little bit with a beer belly or anything, but unequivocally morbidly obese. I still have flashbacks of embarrassment from that time in my life, the way I treated friends and family. I was 280 pounds, and I'd stake myself depressed for a majority of it. It was no one's fault but my own, and even now I sometimes struggle with admitting that and try to blame others for it.
I reveal that because it goes hand-in-hand with the breakdown of my attempted challenge. I am no longer morbidly obese and maintain a fairly healthy weight of around 180 pounds. There was a period of my life, about a year and a half during which I worked tirelessly at fixing myself. So much so that I became fixated on those things, I endangered my health and well-being chasing self-image.
I actually spent a period of about two months in a state of constant malnutrition. I survived (barely) on egg white omelets on the morning - 75 calories, a protein shake at lunch - 400 calories, and an egg white and broccoli omelet at dinner - 175 calories. 650 calories is not enough to support a thin guy, much less a fat guy losing 5 pounds a week. All this while doing a near daily gym regiment of a 3.25 mile run and an hour of weightlifting a night.
Did I end up better for it? That's a good question. I certainly look better. Who knows what sort of havoc I subjected my body to during that period. During that time I learned a lot about myself and the way I deal with certain things. I have an obsessive nature which I can channel: In the times I wasn't starving myself and working out constantly, I also started learning to play the guitar, was regularly writing again, went out for rock climbing every week, started reading again, and had completely blocked out video games and television from my routine.
But I persevered in that mode for months, rarely eating out of step and generally being a simpleton with my nutrition. People think I have incredible willpower, I was just obsessed and berating myself for every misstep. I took my self-hatred and channeled it into a self-destructive whirlwind behind a mask of self-improvement. I was ashamed of my progress every step of the way because I knew it had become an extension of the worst part of my personality.
The meditation challenge was, and still is, something I wished I could have kept up with. But I can't let that guy who obsessively follows his whims be the driver; I was generating a lot of self-doubt and frustration from my failures and that's a quick jump to 'looks good from the outside but is a mess within' territory. It's also counter to the purposes of meditation and Buddhism. I'll return to it and continue my personal research into the eightfold path, writing about it when I find something that I can be proud to share with the people around me. Until that time comes again, I'll try to be more active on this blog about the things I'm passionate about. Thanks for reading.
Years ago I was horribly overweight. Not just a little bit with a beer belly or anything, but unequivocally morbidly obese. I still have flashbacks of embarrassment from that time in my life, the way I treated friends and family. I was 280 pounds, and I'd stake myself depressed for a majority of it. It was no one's fault but my own, and even now I sometimes struggle with admitting that and try to blame others for it.
I reveal that because it goes hand-in-hand with the breakdown of my attempted challenge. I am no longer morbidly obese and maintain a fairly healthy weight of around 180 pounds. There was a period of my life, about a year and a half during which I worked tirelessly at fixing myself. So much so that I became fixated on those things, I endangered my health and well-being chasing self-image.
I actually spent a period of about two months in a state of constant malnutrition. I survived (barely) on egg white omelets on the morning - 75 calories, a protein shake at lunch - 400 calories, and an egg white and broccoli omelet at dinner - 175 calories. 650 calories is not enough to support a thin guy, much less a fat guy losing 5 pounds a week. All this while doing a near daily gym regiment of a 3.25 mile run and an hour of weightlifting a night.
Did I end up better for it? That's a good question. I certainly look better. Who knows what sort of havoc I subjected my body to during that period. During that time I learned a lot about myself and the way I deal with certain things. I have an obsessive nature which I can channel: In the times I wasn't starving myself and working out constantly, I also started learning to play the guitar, was regularly writing again, went out for rock climbing every week, started reading again, and had completely blocked out video games and television from my routine.
But I persevered in that mode for months, rarely eating out of step and generally being a simpleton with my nutrition. People think I have incredible willpower, I was just obsessed and berating myself for every misstep. I took my self-hatred and channeled it into a self-destructive whirlwind behind a mask of self-improvement. I was ashamed of my progress every step of the way because I knew it had become an extension of the worst part of my personality.
The meditation challenge was, and still is, something I wished I could have kept up with. But I can't let that guy who obsessively follows his whims be the driver; I was generating a lot of self-doubt and frustration from my failures and that's a quick jump to 'looks good from the outside but is a mess within' territory. It's also counter to the purposes of meditation and Buddhism. I'll return to it and continue my personal research into the eightfold path, writing about it when I find something that I can be proud to share with the people around me. Until that time comes again, I'll try to be more active on this blog about the things I'm passionate about. Thanks for reading.
February 5, 2013
100 Day Meditation Challenge: Week 5 Retrospective
Week 5. I have a feeling this will be a short one.
I had the same issues remaining constant. I lamented it back in week 1 and I'll continue it here, I need to be doing this in the morning before I've danced with the day. I'm just tired when I get in and antsy, and I'll waste away my evenings on silly things and try to cram it in at inappropriate times.
The singing bowl is an asset because the sound is calming, but it also became a toy during a particularly difficult session and such things are warned against in many books I've read. I'll need to be careful of this device lest I let it draw my attention away from my purpose.
The finding of a Buddhist Temple near my home has intrigued me but I have no idea how to go about visiting it. Their website appears to be in Thai! I'm also quite busy throughout the week with writing, working out and visiting the girlfriend, so I'm not sure where I'd find the time. I'll have to make a plan.
I had the same issues remaining constant. I lamented it back in week 1 and I'll continue it here, I need to be doing this in the morning before I've danced with the day. I'm just tired when I get in and antsy, and I'll waste away my evenings on silly things and try to cram it in at inappropriate times.
The singing bowl is an asset because the sound is calming, but it also became a toy during a particularly difficult session and such things are warned against in many books I've read. I'll need to be careful of this device lest I let it draw my attention away from my purpose.
The finding of a Buddhist Temple near my home has intrigued me but I have no idea how to go about visiting it. Their website appears to be in Thai! I'm also quite busy throughout the week with writing, working out and visiting the girlfriend, so I'm not sure where I'd find the time. I'll have to make a plan.
Day 35 - 100 Day Meditation Challenge
Day 35
Length: 10 minutes (timed)
Start:: 11:35pm
Experience:
Oh, how to explain this one. I was excitable by the time I got to it because I found a Buddhist temple near my house. I could have sworn I'd googled for this kind of thing a hundred times but one has been nearby since 2009. My mind was all aflutter throughout and I had trouble focusing. I used the singing bowl to start and end it and focused on my breath when I could, but my thoughts were like a tumbling waterfall.
Closing Thoughts: A temple! So excited.
Day 34 - 100 Day Meditation Challenge
Day 34
Length: - minutes (timed)
Start:: -
Experience:
It was my birthday! Predictably, I missed it.
Closing Thoughts:
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