Eat what you like

Day 103: Monday

Morning, Tim!

It’s been a while. I could feign a delightful, planned summer hiatus but you know better than that. Perhaps it was your takedown of language’s role in morality but you know full well that’s even more laughable than the summer hiatus line… No, instead it was just an unfortunate end of what had been a fairly stable habit. I hope to rebuild the blog-writing muscles, so bear with me over these first few posts!

Yep. It’s gonna be a rough start.

“The great seduction confronting every individual or family or church or political party or enterprise of any kind in every age is the idea that we no longer need to change. We think, there’s nothing really major about me or my tribe that God would want to reform. I’m sure he wants to work on those people, but not me. That’s a delusion.” – Rev. Dr. Dan Meyer

That seems to me to be about right. I was recently reading Sapiens. It was an interesting read. The author, Yuval Noah Harari, had a knack for laying out his arguments as follows: Fact A, Fact B, Fact C — Therefore X. X was controversial. How did he get there? X as a conclusion seemed was so far away from the original 3 premises.

One piece of text that stood out was an articulation of Buddhism. At it’s core, the idea was that the mind naturally craves more in all situations. And all suffering arrives from craving. The goal, then, would be to rid the mind of any conception of “good” or “bad” and simply acknowledge things as they were — a body sensation, a feeling, the circumstances that brought those about, etc. Acknowledge, but not label.

While familiar, I haven’t studied Buddhism to any great degree, so I asked a few friends who have to give their take. They suggested it probably isn’t the most fair representation — which makes sense. I felt the same way about Harari’s take on Christianity. That said, regardless of religious affiliation, I see this mindset play out in the culture around me at work.

I’m not sure how to segue here. I haven’t yet figured out how to articulate how I see this, how to point to tangible examples. Yet it seems if true, if we do in fact see ourselves as the stable force and the world as what needs changing, we’ve lost perspective. We make up this world — and rather than expecting some outside thing to change, we need to reflect that in what we can control. That is, if we want a world that is more relational and filled with joy, laughter, and empathy, we need to put down our phones, step away from the artificial “connection” and look up at those we interact with every day. If we want to understand issues of race, gender, or political differences we must stop spending 9% of every day on Netflix and 1/16th on Facebook and instead hold conversations with those in all walks of life.

It’s trite at this point to talk about a filter bubble. Yet with all of the time spent on websites that track our every click to feed us information that we like, it seems vital to talk about it. Mary Roach discusses how “People like what they eat, rather than eat what they like.” This harkens back to the question

Which came first, the chicken, or the word we use to distinguish said young-domestic-fowl-raised-for-meat-and-dairy-products from the so-called “egg”?

Yet in this case, the answer seems clearer — we form our tastes around what we are given. Regular exposure makes things more palatable.

Extrapolating a touch, this is the exact phenomenon that should terrify us when it comes to a digital age. When our every click is known, and we get our news from a feed that is tuned to give us what we’d like (so we spend more time there…), we begin to like what we see. And the algorithm is tuned (because that is how the company is incentivized) to give more information like that. And so we don’t get exposed to anything outside of our circle, our delicate bubble.

Let’s tie these two ideas together more concretely, this time in reverse. We are fed a stream of information that we like — not because of anything external, but because that is what we are fed. When we then come to ‘like’ it, we get more and more of it. This is how we come to see the world — this is “right”. When we are exposed to something outside of this, we don’t see it as us needing to change, because it goes against our whole world (…which just so happens to be made up of the same things we ‘like’ and see repeated every day). And so rather than striving toward any change, we create a world that revolves around ourselves, a world where we sit in the center and the ‘other’ should conform to us.

That’s not tight logic. It’s not crisply written. But if there is a smidge of truth there — oof. Because I’m not in the right. Any glimpse in the mirror tells me I’m not perfect, that I do need to change. It’s the look that sees someone who lies, someone who is slothful at times, overly egotistical and ambitious at others. Someone who struggles with lack of understanding of race, gender, and a host of other issues. Taken to a literal mirror, someone who is obviously gluttonous. I need to change. Not just the world around me, but me within that world.

I don’t want to simply like what I eat. I want to take the time to understand what is good, what is nourishing, and to eat that. I want to eat what I like — with the recognition that taste isn’t the only element of “like”, and that some things I like not because they taste good at first but because I need them to make me a healthier member of the human race.

Until tomorrow,

Zak

p.s. I made some tea to set the mood for writing. However, like blog writing, it had been a while since I’d made a cup of loose leaf and I was out of practice. I made a lot of it, and it was dreadful. A lot of scrolling says the parallels between my tea drinking and blog writing may not have stopped where I would have hoped…

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Read all about it

Day 101: Tuesday

Morning Tim!

I lament not writing sooner. It’s been far too long.

We had a sermon this past Sunday that I found interesting. It was ultimately about grace, and the blessing that it is. He gave an example that resonated with me, and I wanted to share.

The story is about a man, watching a sporting even at the top of the stadium. Eager for the game and wanting to take part to the full, he grabs a plate of nachos and a beer. As the game goes on, so too do the beers. The team is losing, he is frustrated. He continues to cheer. Cheer and drink. The game passes, the home team notching a loss

The game passes, the home team notching a loss. The man stays after, finishing his last sip. At this point, many have started to pour out of the stadium. He looks down, like tiny ants they seem. He slips over the railing, and falls, bottle clinched in his hand.

This is like all of us, the story would go. We are all eager for the game of life, and as the innings go on, we find bad things can happen. The sin in our life, like the cup, pries its way into our senses, first impairing the way we see then being the lens through which we do so.

But that’s not where the story ends. It has two possible endings. Read like a newspaper, it could go one of two ways.

Imagine the owner of the building knew this kind of thing happened. He prepped for it — perhaps with a large circus net over the railing. Maybe even a giant jet-pack, binoculars in hand, ready to scour the skies as necessary.

One way this story ends is without this owner. The story, if made about us, reads poorly. “Drunken man freefalls to death, clinging to vice”. Perhaps slightly nicer, depending on the paper you read — but that’s the gist.

The other way is with the owner. The story dramatically changes. Not only is the man saved, the drunken man isn’t a central figure at all. Instead, having faded to the background, the story tells of a hero who, without any contribution from me, the drunken man, saved a life that was otherwise in ruin, otherwise headed directly to a dark end.

I’m not sure why this resonated so well. Perhaps because, as with most of us, I love to make things about me. Reading in a newspaper what ‘me’ gets is sad, though. Perhaps it was the way the story reads to give full credit, inspiring others who were to read that paper about the one they should emulate. Perhaps it’s because there is an acknowledgement that we are blessed — but that we also get thirsty. If we aren’t regularly drinking of a cup other than that of sin, we will choose to quench our thirst some other way.

Until tomorrow,

Zak

Rye bread

Day 87: Monday

Morning, Tim!

My apologies for being a bum correspondent last week! A better week ahead.

There were times when I would get stressed growing up. My mom was very kind about it, reminding me that I only had one day to get through that day. In fact, I couldn’t do anything about those past, nor solve for those ahead. If I put my head down and pushed through doing the right thing today, I’d be set.

Coming from my mom, I used to think this was fantastic advice for those times. I used it throughout college to push through weeks where school and work teamed up to overload my schedule. What would otherwise be overwhelming wasn’t so bad if I focused on today alone.

I have come to learn that it’s a pretty good idea to simply focus on today each day, not just in times of stress or pressure. While certainly good to learn from the past, and countless wisdom literature discusses the need to plan accordingly for the future, it seems today has its own challenges. In times of stress, it may simply be getting through the work. In times of relaxation, perhaps choosing to spend the time in a meaningful way for the benefit of others, not just self. There are opportunities to run astray — to eat the cake; to watch all of the episodes of that season, not just one; to slip into complacency when others could drastically use your help. Each day we have a lot to do, and most days we don’t get it all right.

Give us this day our daily bread

There is a recognition of asking for help, an element of taking it day by day, and a reminder that sustenance in bread is perhaps more realistic than sustenance through cake.

Until tomorrow,
Zak

Anti-Mustachioed

Day 85: Friday

Morning, Tim!

The Pope is visiting you tomorrow — how exciting!

I’ve been pondering your chances of becoming Pope. What with your ability to speak languages and translate — somehow, miraculously, English included! — perhaps you have a shot. Now, you may remember that there were betting sites on who would become pope, with demonstrable odds. But that was back when there was a Pope opening…so we’ll have to factor that in. Here’s what I’ve found.

First, there’s a simple 14 step guide, so it seems pretty easy. There’s even a step about going back and talking to your high school guidance counselor!

But that seems perhaps too straight forward. Ultimately, what I’ve found in reading, is that you must be 1) Catholic and 2) Male.

So you’re fairly close, I suppose.

But that’s only on technicality. There’s also the piece around for the most part having to be a Cardinal (because that’s who decides…). So what are those requirements?

Well, you have to be a priest, then a bishop…so you’ll need education (Which you’re rocking now!…wait…I guess composition doesn’t count..). And some years of experience.

Ultimately I like this post’s description best:

So that’s the career path: be born into the right half of the population, become one of a billion catholics, then one of 400,000 priests, then one of 5,000 bishops, then one of 200 cardinals, wait for the current pope to die or retire, and convince 2/3rds of your fellow cardinals to select you as the one, the only pope.

But let’s be honest, Tim. This is a boring analysis because it’s already been done. Let’s think of other factors that may limit you…

  1. Handlebar mustache. To date, scrolling through the 266 Popes, I found that none had a handlebar mustache. Being the first mustachioed Pope would be impressive, but also may be a limiting factor if they weigh that and discriminate against your kind.

Well…perhaps that’s it. I’ve sat and thought of other factors. For example, age; but, while you’d be young, you’re apparently older than the youngest ever pope. I also considered height and weight, ownership of birds, an ability to ride a unicycle, sense of humor, etc., but surprisingly there aren’t readily available datasets on those…that seems like a good blog idea. If we start to run out of topics here we can go start that one.

In fact, Pope facts generally aren’t readily available, I think an oversight the internet has made! So rather than an unusual use of a spoon, I’ll offer the fact that made me chuckle the most:

There are about 5.9 Popes per square mile in Vatican City

…pretty crazy.

Until Monday,

Zak

p.s. Do you think the pope gave up something really important to him for Lent? Perhaps his new year’s resolutions…

Control Freak Who

Day 74: Monday

Morning, Tim!

I really appreciated your capturing of The Importance of Being Named Ernesto – hilarious.

I wanted to start today with a knock-knock joke.

Knock-knock

Who’s there

Control freak, now you say control freak who

It’s tough to not be in control. I tend to think I can do it better than others. Oh, you’re looking something up on your phone? I should too — just in case. Or research that purchase. Or find it in the cabinet myself (…after you already said we didn’t have any left…). I’ll make the decision on when a work product is good enough, when and if we should meet to get further input. If people would just let me do it, it’ll turn out better!

But come on, that’s not even close to true. First, I don’t have the time to be that great at everything. Second, even if I did, I’ve proven myself time and again to be terrible with control, as evidenced by my waistline, grades, or lack of recognition by Todd, the front desk guy at my gym. I make mistakes times and again, and yet grasp for control all the more.

“Autonomy and control are cardinal virtues of the west” – David Brenner

There are gobs of self-help books. We also have a pretty good idea of the things we should be doing — be it exercise, education, sleep, putting down our phones more often, caring about others more (and not just in an academic or theoretical way…). So why aren’t we able to do these things, simply by ‘willing’ them?

I’d propose that by ‘willing’ we often mean lacking desires that are often against what’s ultimately best for us, and, when they do appear, be able to deny them anyway. In the case of cake, wow is that stuff good. But I probably shouldn’t eat 3 pieces. In fact, it would be best (…at least easiest…) if I didn’t have a desire for 3 pieces, but rather just one. Moreover, if I did desire 3 pieces, it would be great to say no. That would be control, an exercise of will.

Within that example, we need two things. The first we already noted was a sense of control, the ability to act on the ultimate desire. The second, then, is the actual desire we want to act in accordance with. I think that’s a confusing piece — because if we have ever changing second-order desires (the things we want to desire), then we don’t have time to build the habits necessary to actualize those.

Changing our second-order desires is ultimately like building habits. They take time and commitment, and only truly change if built over a period of time.

As a Christian, this is actually a beautiful thing. It means that we get to set our second-order desires once — in alignment with Christ — and then spend the long hours, full of falling short, in relationship with God ever-marching on. It’s by ceding our control that we actually might change into what we’d like to become.

Until tomorrow,

Zak

Your father, the accountant

Day 70: Tuesday

Morning, Tim!

I appreciate the clarification — indeed there are many advantages to not utilizing technology at all. In your last post:

For one thing, not having direct access to information means that I have to rely on personal human contact to find out about stuff.

This is interesting in that it creates relationship. Both parties benefit; you benefit from getting something and having human contact in the process while the one you are in relationship with needs to be needed and also gets the human contact. There is an exchange, a known give and take that helps relationships work.

I know we’ve talked about responsibility in a number of ways, but in particular moral responsibility as a spectrum. A certain shirt pattern may darken someone’s day, spinning them into a tizzy and furthering a breakdown. Obviously there is very diffuse responsibility here, very unknown to the shirt wearer. There are also actions much closer to full moral responsibility — yet it seems all have been shaped in some way by the world and circumstances we live in.

I was curious your guidance on the value of blame.

Blame: Feel or declare that (someone or something) is responsible for a fault or wrong.

In many ways, I see the best version of blame as responsibility accounting. It is attempting to understand which parts of the responsibility pie get divvied up and to whom.

At work there is a philosophy of “taking your 100% responsibility”, the idea being that blame doesn’t add anything to the picture. Understanding your component is likely the best you can do (and even that is likely suspect) — and we should rather shift our attention toward curiosity. Now this curiosity, I admit, is a bit elusive. It’s often described as a curiosity about the situation, asking questions such as “Within my role, what am I to do differently?” “What are the triggers or warning signs — the patterns — that I can recognize that might allow me to change course next time I fall into this tendency?” or even “Why am I so quick to dole out responsibility to others, even if I rightfully don’t have a very large ‘100%’ of the pie?”

I’m torn. In many ways, there can be benefits from understanding where responsibility falls; for instance, understanding when blame lies outside when we’ve followed an appropriate course of action may not bog us down (and conversely, when responsibility does fall on us, understanding the weight and necessity of change to correct). Yet, there does seem to be something compelling about simply shifting toward curiosity. I suppose we may also be getting at the same thing — do not merely blame, but also ask questions to understand the underlying patterns and course that lead up to such an event.

Until tomorrow,

Zak

p.s. I also love exploring  diffuse responsibility with respect to its implications on free will. Good stuff.

Trip to India

Day 62: Tuesday

Morning, Tim!

You may be immediately suspicious of my title — and rightfully so, as I didn’t actually take a trip to India. That said, it’s a little less dubious than when I tried to pass off a visit to Cologne

I did, however, visit Devon street, which was much closer to experiencing India than I ever had before. I went with a friend who took us to what he called a cabbie restaurant – nothing fancy, just very authentic. We had food from Hyderabad, what he described as the southernmost northern tasting – and in being so, took some spicy queues from the south. My friend ordered in what I believe was Hindi. We ate mutton biryani, chicken 65, and paratha. We ate with our hands as my friend told me about chicken 65 being a leaked recipe from the ever popular 65th item from the Buhari hotel restaurant.

It was an interesting experience. Unique. Growing up in a very rural, very small town in midwest America I didn’t encounter different cultures. I don’t say ‘often’ there because that wouldn’t be true – we simply didn’t encounter them at all. In college I wasn’t really faced with them either. It’s interesting to see how gigantic the world is, and wonder how anyone could act as though they’ve figured it out.

It’s eye opening – starting to see how much you don’t know. And ever more realize there is so much you don’t know that you don’t know.

It seems important to interact with things different than what we know. The unknown can be terrifying – the downside risk seems overwhelming at times, so fearing embarrassment for a cultural misstep, a violent act for reasons we can’t really explain, or perhaps even a bad case of diarrhea, we sometimes find ourselves closed off to new experiences and unknowns.

I’ve hated the city for quite some time. Growing up in my farm town I had space, I had nature with beauty abounding. I could see stars, breath fresh air, get a moment without smelling the sewers, hearing the whizzing of machines or the honking of car horns. Yet getting a taste of India helped me appreciate what the city has to offer.

Diversity isn’t a pillar, Tim. It’s no end in its own. But it’s remarkable how it helps provide perspective.

The world is too big for us to ever stop learning. We at times act like we learn what we like – growing up experiencing some positively and decide ‘yes’ and others negatively, deciding ‘no’. But the world is far too big – something completely unknown might be good. While we fear the downside of it being bad, we also must realize that all the good was once unknown to us as well, was once foreign. We have to continue to learn, continue to grow and develop, continue to take share ideas and life together…

…and food. Because that was good stuff.

Until tomorrow,

Zak

Oh! Almost forgot. Though I regrettably didn’t take pictures of my food (because that’s a thing now-a-days), I also had Thums Up, what my friend described as ‘Indian Coke’. Owned by the Coca Cola company, it was less carbonated and less sweet, and the sweetness almost had more of a molasses quality to it. It was pretty good!IMG_1110.JPG