Concentration

From good ol' Wikipedia: Centration is the tendency to focus on one aspect of a situation and neglect others. A term introduced by the Swiss psychologist Jean Piaget (1896–1980) to refer to the tendency of young children to focus attention on only one salient aspect of an object, situation, or problem at a time, to the exclusion of other potentially relevant aspects.

But then there's concentration, when broken into a prefix, con-, and a root of -centration, should be the opposite - the tendency to take in to account all aspects of a situation and neglect none. Dictionary.com says to concentrate means, "To direct one's thoughts or attention".

So comparing centration to concentration, I'd say centration is kind of like having tunnel vision. The advantage is that you can analyze the hell out of one aspect, but the detriment is that that one aspect may be so far removed from the context that your findings may not be directly applicable.

Dreaming of Nuts

I watched way too much of the first season of Heroes last night because my brain kept trying to resolve the unfinished story.

But the best part of sleeping last night was the dream at the end. I dreamt that I had a squirrel who was rock climbing in my shower. I noted to whoever else was in the room that he had very good toe holding skills and great balance. Why am I dreaming about personified squirrels you ask? For that answer, go watch Enchanted, now in theaters everywhere.

Key

There's a key on my key chain. I was looking at them yesterday. I don't know what it is for. The only thing I can think is that it is for my parents' house. It's weirding me out.

CEO

In my head, the CEOs of major corporations are magical super-humans. People that can some how manage billions of dollars and millions of employees. And while this is true in an abstract sense, those CEOs are not directly managing every dollar, and every employee.

I forget that CEOs are humans just like me. They may be older, with more life experiences under their belt, but at the end of the day, they're just as capable of making a mistake as I am. What they have going for them is the process. Mr. CEO says, "We're doing this thing X this year." But he then leaves it to the finance gurus to figure out the money part, and to the implementation specialists to figure out the human and physical resources they'll have to allocate, and then that stuff goes through the next step of the VPs maybe, then on to the managers, and on down eventually to the grunts on the floor.

What gives the CEO his super power is the thirty bajillion checks along the way, and allowing the people who make those checks to have enough power to also make the correction needed. This is how stuff happens, how things get done. The distribution of power seems key to the success of any large organization.

Husband Material

For a while now I've said and been told I'm good husband material. But there's a difference between being berries that are perfect for a jam, and being the jam. I mean that I haven't undergone the squashing process to follow the jam analogy. I may be sweet, have good color, and moisture, but if I never take the time to become a jam, then I'm still just a berry, and some day I'll rot and then I'll not be good for much.

What I've been thinking about is that I haven't taken the time ever to be a great boyfriend. Whenever I've been dating I've also been busy making the time to be a great proponent of fencing (fencer, coach, ref, etc.). I think I made fairly good choices in the past, fencing was helping me to grow. But now I'm not so sure it has the same effect on me. I'm also no longer certain that I'm helping fencing grow.

I look at this last year. I became the secretary of the Indiana division and since then we've had some of the smallest turn outs, it seems like people are traveling and competing less than ever before. I look at Purdue Fencing Club, and they do a good job of making decisions without me. RCF I know I'm holding back because I've got two unanswered emails in my inbox from people wanting to fence, and there's a voice mail on the club's phone from the newspaper that I haven't followed up on.

Work and other things keep me from giving my fencers the attention they need and deserve. Not one of my fencers has really felt like he has improved since I stopped being full time. I get frustrated when the new fencers don't listen to me. I get grouchy when the old fencers don't do as well as they could. I'm a detriment to the sport.

Dumb broken thing

So I've got a really great podcast, but something is complaining about it, and I can't upload it. Grrr. it's like I need to open it, edit it, and resave it. But I don't have any audio editing software.

Someone Else

I read more of Blue Like Jazz tonight. To the author, one of the driving forces is the desire to be someone else, someone different. He claims that everyone feels this way, and that if there were someone who did not feel this way, that he would stick out like a sore thumb.

I'm not necessarily content with who I am, but I do not want to be someone different. I've had friends tell me they've "changed" over the years, or that I've "changed". I always retort with, "I haven't changed, so much as grown, or progressed." I'm not the same person I was, but I'm not so different that you wouldn't recognize me if you stood me next to my former self. I've always known myself to be different from other people, and I've always felt that this was one aspect that the difference manifested itself.

The author's point is that this desire to be new, to be baptized, is what draws us to God. We make a choice at some point, to live a life controlled by sin, or to leave that life behind and follow God. Maybe I made that choice long before I could understand what it meant.

So Now I'm Wondering

What would it be like if I did without the things I do not need? I certainly don't need a several hundred square foot apartment. I don't need a computer at home. I don't need a microwave. The list is quite long, things I have that I don't need to do the other things in my life.

What if I lived in a shoebox of a place, rode the bus to work, and owned only a week's worth of work clothes and one pair of shoes? Or what if I took it a step further, and shared everything? What if I lived in a small place with six people, and we shared our clothes, and everything else? Owning nothing, yet having everything I need to do the things like work. I might be able to make the adjustment of not having a giant bed, but could I give up my privacy? Could I give up the flexibility of having my own stuff?

And then it begs the question, "What would be gained?" Indeed. Perhaps some resource reallocation, more of my income could go further. But on a personal level, it seems like I would have to strengthen my relationships with other people whether I wanted to or not. Sharing life with others has always been important to me. I wonder...

Religion: I am the Problem

I finally started reading. I've been slacking on the reading in general, so I decided to return my Christopher Moore book and tackle this one.

The author makes a convincing argument that humans are flawed, it's in our nature to do evil. He points out that we all drive differently when we're being followed by a squad car. I'm convinced, I'm evil. He goes on to point out that while the world is filled with this flaw of human nature, the best plan of attack, is to look at one's self.

I am the problem.

This is something I feel like I've known for as long as I can remember. If I want to change the world I have to start with myself. If I want people around me to be happier, I have to be happy. If I want people around me to care more, I have to care. Lead by example. I can't ask someone else to do something that I've shown myself unwilling to do. What this means though, is something quite great:

I am also the solution.

Second Podcast

I still say they're not great, but http://tildewill.mypodcast.com/