And another thing!

(I have 3 seemingly unrelated topics to write about: let’s see if I can tie them together with a pretty thematic bow. Also, the auto-spellchecker is broken, so prepare yourself for typos)

We’ll start off with the blood and guts story, since that always revs up a crowd. The wife went in for minor foot surgery on Friday, to remove a mysterious lump on the ball of her right foot. Surgery went well, foot is recovering, and I am once again reminded of how much I value our healthcare system. The cost of this surgery, if we would have paid for it ourselves, would have been more than the total health care premium we’ve paid in the last 5 years.  Without our public healthcare system, we would have had to delay the surgery until we could afford it, forcing my wife to walk around in pain until then. So, to everyone who pays their taxes every year, even the most adamant anti-tax people who rail against the immorality of taxation, thank you for paying your share and helping my family.

Speaking of taxes and paying for things, have you noticed how many different people are asking you for money recently? Part of that is a natural consequence of the season, the time of year when generosity is expected and so organizations make their big ask as Christmas approaches, and that’s always going to happen. But above and beyond that, there’s an expanding lineup of people asking for a donation, friends and family asking for 5 dollars here and 10 dollars there for a wide range of causes. It’s great to see so many people engaged and out there promotng their concerns, but there’s an easily met threshhold for how much fundraising the average person can handle before shutting the door to any new requests. And, time spent fundraising competes directly with work done in other areas to help the cause. Here’s an idea to chew over: the amount of individual fundraising you are subjected to is inversely related to the level of taxation. When we tax in a way that raises enough money to adequately fund the services we want, the gaps between services and needs are reduced. Here’s a specific example:

Several teachers that I’ve spoken to have talked about having to invest their own money to provide a fully equipped classroom. We’re not talking about iPads for each student or a fancy robot to sharpen your pencil crayons, we’re talking about basic supplies, like toys for a kindergarten class. The good teachers know what they need to effectively teach their students, and they pay out of their own pocket to cover the gap. But that can only happen for so long before the sacrifice to their own personal finances becomes too high, so the school has to institute their own fundraising efforts, innundating the parents with requests for money. The end result is that the parents resent the constant requests, the good teachers get tired of being underfunded and they quit, and the kids don’t get the education they deserve.  So, before you launch into another round of weeping about being “over-taxed” and demanding tax cuts and freezes, remember that any reduction in the taxes paid will add to the lengthy line of people who will be asking you for money.

During a trip to the central library today I witnessed an angry meltdown from a fellow in the hallway. He was being escorted from the hall outside of the library by a security guard while bellowing about whatever injustice had him so upset. I thought for a moment about what kind of assistance I could provide, but I had the little duded with me, so any kind of direct conflict resolution involvement was out of the question. And as I walked away from the noise, I wondered what could really be done to fix the situation. It’s really unlikely that the angry fellow was reacting in an appropriate way to being asked to stop whatever he was doing. Whatever the reasons for his rage, they didn’t start at the library, so simply saying “hey, shouting is uncool. Stop and let’s resolve your issue calmly” wouldn’t have done much good. You can easily imagine a chain of frustrating and humiliating events leading up to a blowup at the public library, events brought on by circumstances and by his own poor choices. The final result is that he’s shouting at an aged security guard over something inconsequential, and he can’t stop himself. I’ve seen the same kind of emotinal explosion with the little dude. If he’s really tired, and he’s had a very long and emotionally taxing week, he’ll get to the point that something, anything really, will set him off and send him into weeping hysterics. And when I ask him why he’s upset he’ll cry harder and wail “I don’t know”. We’ve all been there. I’m going to re-use the quote from Hugh MacLennan, because I think it fits this situation too:

“…there is no simple explanation for anything important any of us do, and that the human tragedy, or the human irony, consists in the necessity of living with the consequences of actions performed under the pressure of compulsions so obscure we do not and cannot understand them.”

Bad brain design

I have a gear in my mental engine that is dedicated to anxiously waiting. Seriously, why do I have that setting? Being committed to waiting means I accomplish almost nothing else, as I sit perched in a state of cat-like readiness for something that will happen regardless of my anticipation. Tomorrow morning the wife heads off to the hospital for minor foot surgery. Very, very early in the morning, in fact. and now, of course, I am already tense and prepped to leap into action. There is no action to leap into for at least 9 hours, and most likely, there won’t be any leaping required at all. Will I get a good night’s sleep in the 7 hour window I have available before she leaves and I’m on dad duty? I wouldn’t bet on it.

And the stress of the impending surgery is raising the collective household stress level, though so far the little dude is impervious to it. He’ll get to have a fun day out with his aunt tomorrow, so that will keep him happy and entertained while I sit here and fret the day away until the wife’s out of recovery and ready to get picked up. From that point on, until her foot is back online, I’ll be hefting more of the parenting load, including taking the morning shift. You know the morning shift: it’s the one that can start as early as 5AM, and will involve me trying to calmly get a sleepy and sour boy downstairs without waking up his convalescing mother. I have made the transition to waking up at 6:30 every morning, so 5AM isn’t as massive a gulf as it might have been, but it’s still way too early.

More about my brain machine: it’s all fragile ego and duct tape down here, but things are improving. A lot of the things that I’m trying to do right now require a ridiculous amount of self-confidence. And to be honest, they also require more experience and task-specific knowledge than I have. So when I send off article queries to major newspapers and magazines, I know that I’m punching above my weight. I’m out of my (current) league and it takes a tremendous effort to push myself to keep at it. Feel free to add in something about “leaving your comfort zone” to the mix here, but remember that my comfort zone has historically been really, really tiny. Anyway. This week, I fired off a handful of queries, and I got some valuable, if gruff, feedback from an assistant editor. The feedback didn’t come attached to a contract or anything, but it was helpful stuff. And as it usually does, the proof that I wasn’t perfect in every way sent me into a tiny panic as my self-esteem collapsed, but the recovery time from the deflation was much shorter than past instances. If I can keep stumbling forward like this, I’m going to get to a point where it will take an astounding event to challenge me, and that will be cool.

Neither here nor there, but I’ve got a sense that my professional life has some momentum. I can’t necessarily qualify the sensation as a jubilant one, though. It doesn’t feel like I’m being carried towards a glorious destiny. It feels like I’m caught in a river current that is tugging me down stream to some unknown eddy, or like the first serious lurches of a roller coaster. I think it will turn out to be a fun ride, but I can’t see the next stretch of tracks yet.

The flexible human mind

I stumbled across a comedy bit by Tim Minchin today (here, if you’re interested. NSFW) and in the course of this hypothetical argument, he asks an interesting question:

Isn’t this enough?
Just this world?
Just this beautiful, complex
Wonderfully unfathomable world?
How does it so fail to hold our attention
That we have to diminish it with the invention
Of cheap, man-made Myths and Monsters?

Our physical existence is profoundly complicated and strange enough on its own without including in the unprovable things like ghosts and auras and astrology. But I think it’s not a case of being uninterested or unaware of that complexity. Instead, it’s the  sheer overwhelming mystery of our mundane world that sends us running for the comfort of the unprovable. The average person (and I am one of them) will never fully understand the reasons and motivations for their own actions, much less the actions of others, and that can be frightening. Hugh MacLennan said it much more eloquently than I ever could:

“…there is no simple explanation for anything important any of us do, and that the human tragedy, or the human irony, consists in the necessity of living with the consequences of actions performed under the pressure of compulsions so obscure we do not and cannot understand them.”

When you give yourself an out, something to believe in that can’t really be disproven, you find a little pocket of simulated control over your universe. And that’s fine, keep your psychics and your ghost whisperers and your magic crystals, if they bring you solace and peace of mind. But when we meet to discuss the issues facing everyone in the public realm, please bring an amount of respect for evidence, and for the people who have made it their goal to study the science of the situation, and leave your unknowable mysteries at home.

More on the topic of the peculiar enigma that is my mental state. On Tuesday, I had what I would call “a productive day”. I managed to have 2 creative writing sessions in one day, instead of bullrushing through as much as I could in one sitting before being sick of writing and storming away from the table. I polished off on a non-fiction article, did a bunch of volunteer stuff, and slogged through a 5KM treadmill run. Not bad. I also had a strategy session with the wife, talking about the things we should look at starting in the new year, and during that talk, I could feel the insecure part of myself start to fidget, unwilling to accept taking on more challenge. The balance of power in my brain has shifted though, and I had enough ego power to squash that insecure voice and stifle its panicky rejection of the possibility of trying to do something new and scary (specifically, taking university courses).  I’m thrilled that I’m gaining the ability to sit on my panic and anxiety and interrupt my natural inclination to freak out.

It wasn’t all victory and smiles, however. Yesterday (Wednesday) I was the short-tempered growler, easily frustrated and angered by everyone around me. I think it was the panicky idiot part of my psyche getting revenge on me for suppressing it the day before, joining forces with the lazy part of my brain to hold a testosterone-fueled protest against the tyranny of the logical brain. It didn’t help that I spent the morning trying to pry an audio interview file out of my malfunctioning iPhone:tech issues always drive me into a rage.

After flying off the handle at other drivers and speaking tersely to my very forgiving wife a couple of times, I finally recognized the behaviour I was exhibiting, and I explained the situation to the family. The little dude and the wife worked together as a team to help me focus and calm down, and by the end of the night, everyone was sound as a pound. Go team! My family is awesome.