A List of Re-Emerging Life Lessons.

Before I get started, a water disguised as a cat.

I'm writing again from Iraq, which should be familiar by now. I'm quickly arriving at my first year of completion and look to do one more if all goes well. I've updated infrequently largely because blogging is a muscle that requires exercise just like any other, and the longer it remains dormant the less you want to salvage it. However, it's always been within my nature to pick up that once untenable thing and reanimate it, so here's the zombie corpse of my blog!

I've been musing on this list I'd like to create for close to a week now, so I'm going to push it out there for all to see. It may be common knowledge to some people, but like many lessons in life, they sink to the subconscious depths of our mind only to re-emerge at a later time with some importance tethered to them.

1) Be quick to forgive. Holding a grudge versus a person not only precludes you from that friendship, but you end up captivating yourself as a prisoner as well. It's usually better to get over your misgivings and truly forgive someone. Say it with me, "I forgive you."

2) Few, if any, truly covet your religious or political perspectives. Save it for your book.

3) An act of kindness, no matter how trivial, can completely brighten someone's day.

4) No one rests upon their death bed and regrets all the people they treated with kindness.

5) Music can make it all better.

6) A capable person makes their own luck. Positivity and hard work makes you capable.

7) The more I learn about running, the more I learn about myself, the more I learn about life.

8) Blaming others for your situation isn't going to get you anywhere.

9) Changing your thoughts changes your habits. Change your habits and you change yourself. You already are who you always wanted to be.

10) If something seems like a big deal now, consider its relevance in two weeks. If you can't see it persisting that long, then it probably isn't a big deal.

11) No, they're not talking about you.

12) You will continually surprise yourself by what you can adapt to and smile through.

13) There is zero risk and high reward in genuinely complimenting someone. Perfect business model.

14) No task is ever as daunting as our minds make it out to be. The more tasks you complete the more this becomes apparent.

15) If you're a leader, don't ever ask someone to do something you wouldn't do yourself.

16) Likewise, if you're a leader, establish yourself by working harder than everyone else and make no mention of it. Endorse a culture of positivity and trust the abilities of those who work under you. The rest tends to work itself out.

17) It never was about the status, power or possessions. It's about the people.

18) If you're angry at someone, give them a gift. Trust me.

19) This applies to life as much as it applies to running: you can always push yourself further than you think you can.

20) If you don't fully experience the pain of being alive, you'll never fully experience the pleasure of it either.

I hope everyone is well and finding purpose in whatever they do! Happy holidays. 

An Update About A Dude.

Forgive me now, for I find it hard to keep everyone updated about my life when I live a very repetitive and regimented lifestyle. Most of the time, each day is no different than the one before it. There will be at least twelve hours of work, a gym session, college work, books, and finally, sleep. Not exactly things that would keep you captivated, but it is my life all the same. I will add that I seem to thrive in this setting, with my days laid out before me. 

Time is not such an issue in Iraq. Monday is not a very significant day, nor is the weekend. Each day blends into the next, seamlessly and without any semblance of demarcation. It's unlike any feeling I've ever encountered, but harboring resentment for these unremarkable days is just as pointless as the days of the week themselves, so I withhold such feelings. It would be easy to become intoxicated by the prospect of the future and all the promising allure of it, but as it turns out, the fresh air, the bounties of life, are experienced in this moment. Be here now.

Regardless, I'd like to talk about the future, which is infinitely more interesting that my day to day life here. In mid-November I will fly back to Georgia and see my family, my friends and my cat. I will get to see familiar sights such as clouds and rain and grass and drive my car, which will be welcomed. Somewhere in there is a road trip to Asheville, NC. Following my two week stay in the US I will fly to India and spend two weeks there before returning to work. Blame it on Shantaram (a great read thus far, by the way) but the mystique of India is beckoning me. 

It's quite the privilege to be able to read about an intriguing place in a book and then visit it weeks later. I'm incredibly grateful to have such travel opportunities that this job affords me. The travel opportunities are the very same factor which vie for my residency in Iraq beyond the one year contract. Although I cannot see myself conceivably staying here for more than two years, the thought of at least fulfilling a two year contract is tempting, despite the very mauve lifestyle that working in Iraq itself fosters. The travel time outside of Iraq and the footholds for the rest of my life that it provides are what continue to tempt me.

My beard itches.

Morale: Observations and a Resolution.

A topic of discussion I've thought about frequently in the past week is morale in the workplace, and what to make of instances of low or high morale. I suppose none of this thinking would have been spurred on without beholding examples of both within this frame of time. 

This is not a new topic for me to mull over, by any means. During my eight years in the fire department prior to taking this emergency room job in Iraq, I frequently pondered the state of flux of my crew's morale. As time went on, I gained a greater understanding for how changes in morale come about, as well as what I needed to do when met with low morale on a regular basis.

This observation is going to start and end in the same fashion: I firmly believe morale starts and ends with the individual. There will always be external factors which we may try to attribute low morale to, but in the end, the only things that bother us are the things we let bother us. This philosophy puts a lot of emphasis on personal responsibility, but as I've slowly turned thought into habit over the years, I've found it to be a philosophy that has been vital in allowing me to be resilient when times aren't so great.

Many of these external factors are probably familiar to you. A change in management entails a change in operational philosophy, for example. In this case, sometimes the focus increases, leading to micromanaging, or perhaps in a minority of cases the focus broadens - allowing for more autonomy - as management looks at the bigger picture, which would be macromanaging. Micromanaging is more involved in the smaller nuances of an operation, and this has a tendency of upsetting more experienced employees as well as free thinkers. Macromanagement may seem imposing to an inexperienced employee or someone who is actually incompetent at their job, as it allows for a certain amount of autonomy which is not always appreciated.

It could be a change in working conditions. Whether it is an unforeseen increase in workload, or a sharp decrease. Extremes in weather play a factor where applicable, as I recall from working during the summer at a fire department in Georgia, where conditions get especially hot and humid. 

Finally there are external factors with financial implications: reduction of wages, a change in benefits such as insurance premium increase or retirement plans being affected by the stock market, and so on. These tend to hit close to home for many people as they not only have to contend with a change in morale at work but also the implications of this financial hit back home. When external factors affect our family or make for a scarce outlook with regard to food or shelter, it is hard not to take issue with it.

I could go on about the various external factors at the workplace. At the fire department, morale was always magnified and a topic for open discussion because we literally lived with one another in the same house every third day. This makes it a more pressing issue to resolve than it would be if we simply logged eight hours a day together. In addition, a certain continuity must be in place at the fire department, where we trust our lives to one another during critical emergencies. In this extreme example, morale is far more important than in other settings.

Resolution:

Morale starts and stops with the individual. No amount of rhetoric or campaigning to make things better will actually make things better. In my experience, it is often better to lead by example than by your own words. For some people this may be difficult, because it entails working harder than everyone around you, and doing so with a positive attitude that becomes infectious. This, in my limited experience, has been the best avenue to take. 

The concept of working hard and doing so in a positive manner can seem daunting over a prolonged period of time, and that means a certain amount of vigilance is required to ensure the positive, hard-working attitude catches fire. Adhered to long enough, it will work, I have found. Whether the people around you are prodded into action due to a feeling of inspiration or guilt because you are out-working them, it will happen. Doing so with little fanfare will only drive your point home further. A display of genuine concern for morale is best asserted by means of action, and not words.

To ensure longevity when attempting to work hard and in a positive fashion, it helps to be able to derive meaning from what you're doing. Maintaining mindfulness about why you're doing what you're doing, and taking pride in the level of work that you are doing, can often be enough to sustain efforts. Habitually employing positivity also helps to sustain efforts, because positivity only breeds more positivity. 

As I mentioned earlier, how we perceive external factors is completely up to us, and whether we consider something good or bad is also completely up to us. If we are met by a decrease in personnel at work, this can either be seen as a slight against us (and almost always, it isn't) or it can be seen as a challenge for us to overcome, that will invariably make us better if we do. Likewise, when workloads sharply decrease or increase, this is an external factor we can either revile by having a negative attitude and complaining about it (though it serves no functional purpose), or we can embrace these changes in workload as a challenge and respond accordingly. 

Turning thoughts into habits is key here. If we continually embrace external factors instead of resenting them, it will not be long before these thoughts become ingrained as habits. It takes time, but with enough resolve to do so, it can be a reality. Speaking personally, it has become effortless, or even native, that I respond to external factors as challenges rather than attacks against my well-being. It all began as a thought years ago, in the fire department. There was a time when I was an inexperienced firefighter that despaired over changes in external factors and morale, but with time and indulgence in books on the matter, I got better at it. This just shows that anyone can.

There is a remote chance that your hard work and positivity don't catch on. You have to be prepared for this as well. It does not mean you change your approach or act as the universe's enforcer by trying to seek disciplinary action against your less-than-motivated colleagues. You could do this, of course, but it will only serve to muddle affairs and word will eventually get out that you're trying to take people out. As a rule, it simply isn't a good idea to be an enforcer of any kind unless that is actually your job.  

That last sentence is key, because many people encounter undue stress from engaging in affairs that are not their own. Many people want to be omnipotent, and so they are constantly concerning themselves with the business of other people. The truth is, we should always point the finger at ourselves, and ask ourselves what we can do to become better. We can modify ourselves more easily than we can modify others. Trying to change others or seeking enforcement against others will only bring about resentment toward you. Nothing shortens a career quite like being exposed to chronic resentment from your peers.

In the end, the resolution isn't very complex, and according to Occam's Razor, that's a good thing. The simple answers are often the best answers. Work on yourself, go about your business quietly and with positivity, and finally don't involve yourself in the affairs of others. If any of this information seems ambiguous or misleading I'd be glad to address it in the comments section.

Update on Myself, Including Thailand Synopsis.

My thirty day vacation came and went, most of it spent in Thailand although there was a brief two day excursion to Cambodia to see Angkor Wat. Otherwise I spent the majority of my vacation living out of a backpack in Thailand, with a tenuous internet connection and finals looming for sociology. In the end, I:

-Got a suntan

-Got robbed by a monkey

-Got a 94 in Sociology

-Slept overnight in a Buddhist monastery in Chiang Mai

-Lodged with two random Thai families, where I was treated royally

-Experienced the 16 hour train ride from Bangkok to Chiang Mai - never again.

There was more, but these are the highlights. In the end, I was travel-weary and ready to let my guard down back in Iraq (although this seems counter-intuitive) as there was the constant threat of being scammed in Thailand. Being foreign, an obvious traveler, and speaking little Thai will do that. I will certainly go back to Thailand one day, but it will be far, far in the future after I've recharged my batteries from an experience that I won't ever forget.

And now, I have been back in Iraq for nearly a week, attempting to shake the cobwebs loose, do my job well, and get re-acclimated to both the environment and hours. Furthermore, it's been a rude awakening in a sense to get back into the superhero routine in the gym - the barbell exclusive work out which I've tweaked with sprinting and intervals on the bike as well. After an entire month of no barbells I lost 5-10# for rep weight on nearly every exercise. On top of that, the post-workout soreness has decided to linger a bit longer these days - a reminder again of what a month of neglect feels like when re-awakened.

At this point I'd like to interrupt myself and let everyone know I made a new 8tracks playlist: Beats Over Baghdad. Enjoy!

No other noteworthy changes spring to mind. I feel relieved to have three months before me to build momentum in the gym, with work, and academically. I was drawing a great amount of meaning out of these endeavors prior to the vacation and establishing myself within them again has been great. It helps that I work with a lot of great people and for a great company. And for all of the challenges which are thrown my way, I appreciate them all, because they are making me better at what I do.

Some parting thoughts before I bring this entry to a close. First, life is changing rapidly for a lot of my close friends back in the states. I think of you all every day and miss you. Second, buddhism in Thailand is commonly perceived as a theological occurrence, with "the Buddha" being an actual deity that is prayed to for very worldly things such as a gold necklace, shoes, a motorcycle, and so on. There is also a tithing system in place at the larger temples and monasteries which strikes me as odd, though I suppose it should be of no concern to me. Third and finally, don't trust the guys with pet monkeys in Thailand. Those monkeys can and will steal your nice watch and leave you with nothing more than a low quality polaroid picture as a souvenir.

When There Is No Gym.

I haven't had access to a gym since my first three nights in Bangkok nearly two weeks ago. Since that time my arrangement has been tiny rooms with just enough space to shower and sleep. This is all fine by me, except for the vague feeling that only accumulated over time - my body wanting punishment.

I resolved to do a hotel workout. Here's what I've been doing the past three days:
-Run in place, 10 minutes.
-3 sets of planks, 1:15 minute minimum.
-4 sets up pushups, typically 45, 40, 35, 35.
-4 sets of 10 burpees (Is there anyone in existence who actually enjoys these?)
- 4 sets of body-weight squats: 35, 30, 30, 25.
-Run in place, 5 minute cool down.

Imperfect as it may be, it does enough to work up a sweat and feel soreness the next day. I believe tomorrow I'll go for a run in Chiang Mai (it isn't too dangerous compared to trying to run in Bangkok) before I have to hop a jet back to Bangkok. It will be my first run since starting the superhero program June 26th. I'm excited to see how running feels, especially in a place with scenery other than dust and sand!

I hope everyone is well. Namaste.

Thailand: The Red-Eye Preamble; First Day.

The preamble to my arrival in Thailand was a 24 hour marathon of either airports or the economy section of one of three jets it took me to get here. There was a certain amount of dread affixed to this notion of requiring three different jets to get to my destination because I know myself very well, and what I know with regard to jet travel is that I have fitful experiences bereft of any sort of restfulness.

Leaving behind the arid and oven-hot climate of the Middle East I arrive at the airport in Thailand, dim-witted from too many gates, too many negotiations with customer service, and no semblance of rest. I'm immediately struck by visions of Japan as I go through customs - they even have the cartoon customs mascots in Thailand just as they do in Japan at Narita International Airport. Taking my surroundings for face value and with little thought involved, I could provide close analog with my present surroundings and Japan entirely. Of course, it's not that simple, nothing ever is.

I emerge from the airport with a backpack slung over one shoulder. Inside I have enough clothes for four days, toiletries, a computer and a book. The lack of checked baggage and baggage claim has already made this gamble worth it, I think to myself, shouldering the other strap and walking to the Public Transport area of the parking lot. This is when I realize that despite my preparation with lodging, reading about the climate and surrounding areas, and reading about the culture, I did not study one word of Thai language. In what would turn out to be an on-going trend for the remainder of my first day in Thailand - I arrived in Thailand at 8 pm - I stumble through dialogue with the lady at the Public Transport booth. Luckily, this is not her first experience with a self-centered American who did not study any Thai language, and she hails a cab for me.

I slip into the back seat of the cab and clumsily utter the address of my apartment in Bangkok. I'm met by a blank stare from the rearview mirror and so I repeat the address, more finely this time, and with a change in intonation for certain syllables. Still nothing. I heave a sigh of resignation and hand the driver my directions. He nods quickly and tears out of his parking spot. Instinctively reacting to the jarring of the taxi, I reach for a seat belt and don't find one. Despite the chaos that would envelope me for the next seventy minutes of the taxi ride to my apartment, I enjoyed the experience for what it was. And what Thailand driving etiquette is, I can succinctly describe in this way: a matter of self-preservation, with no particular adherence to driving laws, should such things even exist here. There is no gradual braking, no blinkers, no gradual acceleration. Everything has a certain timing to it with regard to traffic, and that timing is frenetic.

On the other hand, I am surrounded by the ephemera of my Bangkok experience. There is a rush of lights, temples, and greenery, all of which were so starkly absent from my life in the Middle East. Acknowledging the ephemeral nature of past experience, I am attempting to nail it all down with the very words that I type. I may not be much for taking pictures, but I can write. And write, and write, and write. Or type. 

This entry is the first of many chronicling my experiences in Thailand, and I will do my very best not only to bring an accurate portrayal of this country to you, but also flesh out the experience entirely with some sort of meaning: lessons learned, mistakes made, or otherwise. 

The taxi driver and I quibble over the final expense of this ride. The meter says one amount, the driver says another. Finally, we agree on an amount in between and I receive my first lesson in Thai economics: everything can and will be negotiated. My apartment is on the seventh floor of a seven story building, which feels lucky to me for reasons I can't justify. The property manager, whom I shall call Steve, meets me at the complex entrance and shows me to my room. As I recall, Steve took great care to break everything down for me, but it was a fruitless endeavor - I was entirely too exhausted to adequately retain information. He gives me a quick crash course in common Thai phrases, zero of which I remember even after he has left me alone in my apartment. 

My apartment is small, simple, yet chic. The resounding theme is black and white, only interrupted with occasional orange furnishings. The bathroom includes a western toilet but with a hose and nozzle attached to the base of it, presumably to rinse off one's nether regions following the bathroom engagement. The shower is less a stall and more a random designated area on the bathroom wall to mount the shower head, plumbing and controls. In all of my worldliness - or lack thereof, since there is no sarcasm font - I have been in this apartment for three days and still cannot understand how to turn on the water heater, so I enjoy cold showers. And I truly do enjoy them.

Following the cold shower, I eat two hard boiled eggs and wash them down with a small box of green tea I purchased from the 7/11 within the apartment complex. Indeed, the complex has its own 7/11. I floss, I brush my teeth, and I flop onto the bed. The thought occurs to me that with so much in flux the past day and a half, I welcome the certainty of sleep. Though I will experience so many new things and have already, sleep is guaranteed. It seems that once my brain is done considering this, I immediately drift to sleep.

I wake up three hours later, wide-awake. I'm in Thailand.

A Retrospective Look at my First Three Months in Iraq

Tomorrow afternoon I depart from Iraq and will inevitably find myself in Thailand, where I will spend the majority of my one month vacation. What follows is a retrospective evaluation of my time in the Middle East thus far. Perhaps this will be edifying to some.

The very first thing I must make known is this: local Iraqis are some of the genuinely nicest people you may ever find yourself privileged to meet. It is true, they would quite literally give you the shirt off of their back. When I spent time near the Persian Gulf, local Iraqis brought dates to us on base and they were incredibly delicious. It almost seemed as if beneath the skins of these dates was a sort of succulent liquid as opposed to the molasses texture I experienced stateside with medjool dates.

The second thing I will make known: we as Americans, by and large, are spoiled. It is a matter of privilege that we are able to complain about the things we do. When the phrase "first world problems" is uttered, it is succinct. We do suffer from problems, and perceive them as problems, but often they are not true problems. Surveying my Facebook feed, seeing the day to day complaints, I'm not completely capable of embracing these gestures. 

Now I will briefly describe my experience with Kenyans and Nepalese Gurkhas, who provide our security team where I am located. When either of these nationalities are my patients, there is seldom a complaint - even if a painful procedure is being performed. This is in stark contrast to much of what I observed when practicing medicine in the states. Furthermore, there is a basic gratitude expressed by both Kenyans and Nepalese on a daily basis which does well to extract such livelihood out of me. It is indeed infectious. Kenyans especially strike me as so basically innocent in their ways that I find it hard to become impatient or upset with them, even during moments of extreme language barrier.

The temperatures here have reached as high as 126 degrees fahrenheit, primarily when I was near the Persian Gulf. These are doubtless to be perceived as gaudy temperature numbers, however I must inform that the complete lack of air moisture makes these temperatures entirely bearable. Whereas I've found Atlanta's high 90s heat with 70% or higher humidity oppressive, I have few complaints about the weather here. The weather is sneaky, however, in that sweat evaporates off of the body before ever being noticed and thus occult dehydration has been known to take place. 

It has rained once in the three months I have been here, which persisted for all of perhaps five minutes.

Finally, I will say this: though it would seem I've been bearish on Americans and even the developed world abound, I still sympathize with the post-industrial lifestyle. Though the things we complain about have changed, the residual stress has not. It is simply different things which we see as stressors now, but they are nonetheless formidable. Instead, I might say that living here has radically reduced my residual stress. I have very few things which would serve as stressors. In my three months here, I have been consistently happy with every passing day, and cannot recall a single day in which I felt sad or depressed.

All told, the time went by quickly. Following my vacation I will log another ninety days in the Middle East and then depart for another month-long vacation, attending college online all the while. If anything, I can readily perceive that this is a significant foothold in my life, and its direction may forever change following my stint working here.

July 12 Update: It's About Fitness.

Greetings once again everyone. Pardon the intermission, but I've been busy making travel plans, working, doing homework/essays, and working. By the time I have arrived at a juncture in which I could blog, I felt the desire to do so had already left me. Not so tonight.

I acquiesced to strength training recently; particularly, I am employing Steve Kamb's NerdFitness routine: Superhero workout. If you're defiant at this particular moment and refuse to click the link, I'll include my workout here:

Workout A

4 sets of squats, 4-8 reps. I began at 160#, as I am just a puny runner. 

Three weeks in, and I am repping 190#, looking to increase to 200# this weekend.

3 sets of chin-ups, max reps. I began with a line that looked like 8, 6, 6. My most recent "A" workout yielded 12, 10, 8. 

4 sets of overhead press, 4-8 reps. Again, I'm a puny runner. Started repping 80#, I'm now at 110# with my most recent line being 8, 6, 6.

Workout B

3 sets of deadlifts, 4-8 reps. Began at 140# as I had never done deadlifts in correct form. I'm now repping 190#, recent line: 8, 8, 7.

3 sets of bent over rows, 6-10 reps. Started at 120#, currently at 150#. Line: 10, 10, 8.

4 sets of bench press, 4-8 reps. Began at 140#, currently at 160#. Line: 8, 6, 5.

400m sprints, with 200m walking rest periods. This is less to do with interval training and more to do with maximum exertion running for speed training. I've never really employed sprints in my routine but I'm glad I did.

I enjoy this new routine for many reasons. First, I'm getting strong at a nice pace. Second, my routine takes no longer than 30 minutes typically and works my entire body due to the use of stabilizer muscles in nearly every routine. My plan is to do this routine for three months and then switch over to Crossfit: Endurance.

I will need to be more mindful about wasting muscle this time. I believe I wasted a lot of muscle in my hardcore cardio years and now I'm having to make up lost ground.

Time for some progress pics!

Week 1, June 30.

Week 2, July 5.

Week 3, front profile, July 12.

Week 3, oblique profile, July 12.

All told I've gained about three pounds and the knee pain which had lingered for years has subsided as I anticipated with the strengthening of my quads and posterior chain. With vacation for an entire month upcoming, I am unsure of what sort of access I will have to barbells. If I do have access to a gym with barbells, I'll continue the routine and continue with the updates. 

That's all for now, thanks for stopping by and namaste!

Array of Questionable Literature: 26 June 2012.

Without being fully aware of it, I have been hitting walls for the past three or more years. As I have continued running, and my knees have slowly disintegrated, I've been filled with a certain resentment which I imagine to be common among runners: time is catching up with me. One does not simply run on hard surfaces for fourteen years without one's own body engaging in a sort of reprisal for these misgivings. When the going is good and the running is easy, overlooking the state of your knees is almost a given. When, however, those knees finally scream back for all of the unrequited abuse you have placed upon them and they give back this pain liberally, it is all you can think about.

In a perfect world it would be simple for me. I am Dustin and I like running. So I run. The end.

The human body, in all its majesty, is a more complex system than that. As a paramedic I should abide by this reality, but just like the physician who smokes incessantly, I persisted with high mileage running as if this reality did not apply to me.

As I type this entry, my knees are in much better shape than this time a year ago. In this way, this is a retrospective assessment of the problem I've been having. However, I still find myself hitting walls. Running anything faster than 8 minute 10 second miles over the course of a 5K has been difficult. In all of my wisdom, I had simply assumed the best way to become a faster runner was to run more, and perhaps to some with better genetics, this is true.

Finally, I need to commit more fully to strength training if any of the following are of interest to me: 1) running for a long time.
2) running faster.
3) becoming stronger.

As of this past week I have finally acquiesced to strength training. No isolating machines, no gimmicks. I dove right in to Starting Strength by Mark Rippetoe, and began to implement the lessons I've learned from certain blogs on the internet. Before I post those links, here are my workouts, borrowed from the ensuing linkage:
Exercise A (Superhero "A" workout)
Squats - 4 sets / 4-8 reps
Overhead press - 4 sets / 4-8 reps
Pull-ups - 3 sets / max reps
Sprints - 200 meters / 4 sets

Exercise B (Superhero "B" workout)
Deadlifts - 3 sets / 4-8 reps
Bench press - 4 sets / 4-8 reps
Bent-over rows - 3 sets / 6-10 reps
Plank rows - 3 sets / 10-15 reps per side

I have modified the existing workout to incorporate sprints. Instead of going into lengthy explanation, now is the part where I give credit where it is due.

Questionable Literature
How To Get Big & Strong Like a Superhero - NerdFitness  
Excellent information contained in the above link. I highly recommend subscribing to Steve's site as he has a vast understanding of strength training as well as the underlying anatomy and physiology of the training he proposes. For maligned runners such as myself who are suffering from lingering injuries or hitting performance ceilings which seem to be placed lower than they should be, the information therein is vital.

How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count The Ways: Deadlifts
Freetheanimal is an outstanding resource for paleo diet and strength training interests. The above article really screams for my friend Tony to look at it. It talks about chronic cervical/spinal pain from previous injury and how to overcome it through psychology and strength training. In addition, Freetheanimal is working on a new ebook which will surely have tons of great information.


Anonymous Launches Cyber Attack on Japanese Government
I guess I shouldn't be especially surprised at this. Japan is an industrialized capitalist economy, though the economic disparity is not as profound as in the US and Europe.

Until next time, namaste.

Array of Questionable Literature: 21 June 2012.

Welcome to the inaugural installment of the Array of Questionable Literature: a brief reminder of my existence in Iraq as well as questionable links excavated from some of the most degenerate annals the internet could ever afford. I mine all of this for you, and I do it for free. What a guy!

But first, me. 

Drama, Iraq style.

The back story: high ranking official in camp wants everyone to shut off the AC units in their CHUs during the day, while everyone is presumably at work. If they find our AC units running during the day, they will kill the power to our AC untis, and we'll have to plead to have them turned back on.

Caveat: some people work nights, and therefore sleep during days, and therefore! they require their AC units to be running during the day so they can sleep comfortably. As such, us night shift people have been told we must put a sign on our front door indicating we work nights. Hence my pleasant sign.

Moral of the story: when you're met with a hostile glare, smile back. It confuses them.

Housing chicanery aside, all goes well here in sunny Iraq. As mentioned above, I work night shift in the emergency department of the on-base hospital with gents Jonathan and Micah. To muster the strength to endure an entire shift, we first gaze upon the majesty of turkey dubstep and then, reinvigorated, we roll up our sleeves and get to work.

BATHROOM PUNISHMENT!

Emphasis mine. Because Micah does loathe having the bladder capacity of a kookaburra suffering from dwarfism, he has decided to punish his own mortal body by doing fifty push-ups for every time he goes potty. As a show of solidarity I have joined Micah in this senseless destruction of skeletal muscle by doing one minute planks, minimum. Three days into this witless undertaking, Micah has tender breasts and my abdomen is burgeoning with surreptitious hernia-a-plenty. We go forth regardless with the bathroom punishment.

Tomorrow is Friday. Casual Friday in the emergency room. Pictures will inevitably accompany.

ARRAY OF QUESTIONABLE LITERATURE:

Japan Probe: Tottori Mystery Animal - Dog? Bear? Tanooki? 

 Japanese woman rescues dog from an avian attack. Nurses dog to health. Realizes dog isn't a dog. Bear? k, bear. Maybe not a bear? Clearly it's Mario in a tanooki suit.

Dedroidify: Us VS Them   

A visual reminder not to hastily engage in partisanship. Keep that mind limber! Things aren't always as they appear.

Free The Animal: Focus on Nutrients - Beef Liver Ideas & Alternatives  

Excellent paleo diet/lifestyle blog. He presents some interesting information about the nutrient density of beef liver. To wit: "A mere 4 ounces of beef liver roughly approximates the total nutrition of 5 pounds of fruit" Interesting stuff!

Peace!

Veiled, Translucently.

There are simply times when I am met by this overarching feeling that life is at once strange and endearing. Endearing, perhaps because of its strangeness. Presently, I am met by this feeling and I largely attribute its occurrence to the fact that sleep has been difficult to come by for the past three days. I would estimate I have amassed six hours of sleep in three days. It's nothing at all to worry over, of course, because sleep debt is always repaid eventually.

I took medicine to help myself sleep this morning. After some time, it finally took effect, and I unknowingly was met by sleep, for a time at least. Finally, however, I awoke far too quickly drenched in sweat. The reason for this was because the power was out, and the air conditioning unit in my room had long since working. Now, in a foggy veil of translucence, I rose from bed, resigned to the fact that I would now spend more time awake. The very first thought I had was that we are not supposed to be awake this often, although I could not explain precisely why that is.

Whether due to this lack of sleep or the lingering effects of the medication I had taken, I approached the mirror. What I gazed upon was obviously me, yet I felt it an alien presentation. Continuing with this thought, I regarded myself as a stranger trapped in my own body. I surveyed my body, my arms and legs. I was content to be in this body. My hair was messy but in a composed sort of way, as if I intended it to be this way. Is this the trend? I have no way of knowing, because I am in Iraq and these things go unnoticed to me. Finally, the stranger within me is contented with its new body. 

I have approached the rest of the day in a similar fog. I do not work today, so I don't feel any pressing need to sleep or be at any particular engagement. I have read over two hundred pages of the current book I'm reading, and will likely read hundreds more as the day goes on. It is a timeless day, the likes of which I haven't experienced in some time. If I were to allot a certain time in my life to liken to this moment, I would reference to summer break when I was in elementary school. No obligations and no pressure to do any one thing.

Furthermore, just as in those times long ago as a kid in the summer with no particular expectations placed upon him, I spend my time in solitude. It never really occurs to me that I am alone, and especially never lonely. I suppose I attribute this to being an only child, and a child who grew up fascinated with books.

When I consider the many chores which must be carried out to survive -- eating, drinking, cleaning oneself, sleeping, to be very basic -- I feel at times that we as human beings are just very high maintenance. Yet, when I consider that it takes not much more than these things to be happy, and to thrive with a sense of meaning in one's life, I cannot help but feel we are very complete creatures. True, we're born into this world with everything we're ever going to need. With hope we all come to this realization at some point in our lives, and all of the extraneous possessions and longings and resentments just gradually subside. That is when we get on with the business of really living well.

As I looked into the mirror at my own image -- and I did this for some time -- I regarded myself as this creature. The creature who was brought into this existence with all the faculties needed to prevail in every moment. On the other hand, I do not always feel this way, because my mind is still very much untrained and I do let my guard down. Yet this is something to celebrate, because with every new moment I am afforded, I am granted hope. Hope is each moment given to us to live true to ourselves, with authenticity.

Perhaps I should forego sleep more often. Perhaps I should be in Iraq, foregoing sleep, staring blankly at my own image, more often. Then again, maybe I should simply be, hm?

Winding My Spring. [How I'm Doing; 2nd Edition]

Pictured above is a wind-up bird, illusory to Haruki Murakami's novel, "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles." To this point I am highly enjoying this novel. Haruki Murakami is very quickly endearing himself into my top three favorite authors. If you enjoy truly good writing -- imbued with a careful craftsmanship that can at times be very difficult to find -- then I suggest reading Haruki Murakami's work. For starters? "Norwegian Wood."

Haruki Murakami is known for creating protagonists who are similar to him, and they live out lives that he himself has lived out. If not precisely, then as an analog, running roughly parallel to his very own life. Though he [Murakami] is secretive about what aspects of his works are adaptations of his own life and what aspects are not, there is a vague sense of this analog that the reader can feel as they navigate through his novels.

One such reference is Murakami's characters "winding their spring," which basically refers to the mannerisms these characters have and the tasks they perform to gain momentum toward a meaningful day. This is a very recent adaptation I have made unto my own life as I spend my days in Iraq. You see, I live encapsulated within concrete walls. This means that every day, the views are the same. Every day there is sand, the intense sun, and there are fifteen foot tall, two feet thick walls of concrete everywhere. 

Existing within this bubble is troubling to many who live here, including myself. My home is a shipping container converted into a room. It is quite literally a cube with no windows. I do have the very great fortune of having two lockers, a night stand, a desk, a bed and a refrigerator. Oh, and a wall AC unit. If this paints a lusterless picture for you, then you are not far off from the reality of my situation.

I cannot change my setting. At least, not for now. Nor do I want to. There is a great amount of enjoyment I derive from living this way. Even prior to coming here, I had intended for this time of my life to act as a sort of sabbatical. The austerity imposed allows no means of escaping oneself. In many ways, that has been an absolute godsend. The residual level of stress here is very low, in stark contrast to the heavily industrialized United States. Though I have every reason to be afraid or even sad, I have few reasons to be stressed.

Yet I am not afraid, sad or stressed. I am nearly two months in, and I have found a way to thrive. Every day I rise from bed and I wind my spring. There is a great certainty in what I will survey when I step outside of my cube in the morning to walk to work, but that has absolutely no bearing over how I must interpret it. I wind my spring very tight to that I can give a day's long effort at work, and even late into the night find meaningful ways to spend my time. Reading, breathing, walking. Very simple ways in which I wind my spring.

A sabbatical I intended it to be, and thus far, a sabbatical it has been. A modified sort of sabbatical. One in which I do not yearn for what I don't have; rather, I embrace what is already ever-present. I have the air I breathe, I have the ability to engage and to change my reality, and I have a debt to nearly ten books that I can't wait to read. Beyond that, I have a vast expanse of paper to write on and plenty of ink to do so with. Though the scenery never changes, I have never felt so compelled to write about it.

There are times when memory tries to win me over. I find myself closing my eyes and slipping into a decadent vision of lush green grass, rivers, karaoke and beaches. Going deeper into these memories, I see the faces of people I love: friends and family that I am withheld from seeing and spending time with. As quickly as I engage in these memories, I am brought back to the surface of reality. How accurate is a memory and how worthwhile is a memory? I find that the accuracy of memories is invisibly swayed by the emotions I tether to each of them. 

There is little value in longing for a memory or acquiescing to forlorn thought. There is great value in enjoying this present moment for what it is. There is infinite hope in rooting oneself in the present moment and experiencing everything for what it is, instead of being absent from the present moment and later recalling that moment for what I thought it was.

Before I allow this tangent to spiral out of control, I will return to the origin of this post. I am well. I am well on a consistent basis because I wind my spring every day. I realize the inherent challenge in making every day meaningful in a setting that is not incredibly conducive to meaningful living. It is the acknowledgement of this challenge that allows me to triumph as often as I have over it. 

Even as I attempt to grasp each and every moment, time surreptitiously moves along. Closer to 30 than 20, closer to 29 than 28. These are just numbers. In the end I will identify this as time well spent.

I Claim Switzerland.

While staying in Cape Canaveral, during inevitable times of dispute, my friend Erik would often state "Hey, I'm Switzerland" as a way of voicing his neutrality or ambivalence at whatever subject was at hand. A great deal of the time, I found myself wanting to claim Switzerland as well. It isn't that I can't be bothered to care strongly about any given debate, it is simply a matter of entertaining opposing notions in my mind simultaneously. I have mulled over this trait of mine considerably and have yet to assess whether it is a good or bad thing - some more neutrality.

This is simply the way of things for me. I find that when I survey someone beating their drum loudly and with vehement judgment about a topic which they have not bothered to research much, I feel a sort of disdain. At times I feel like the reckless fanatics, zealous and less-than-studious of their subject matter, simply compel me to withdraw from the social engagement entirely. Instead I assume the role of a passive observer, and only as a matter of invitation from someone else would I interject with my thoughts. Thoughts are so fickle, and I don't always enjoy playing to the whim of judgment, because historically my judgment has been amorphous.

There is a bumper sticker that a co-worker of mine had in the past. It stated: "If you don't stand for something, you will fall for anything." The imperative that I have gathered from this bumper sticker is that I should race out and declare my values forthright and stick with them arbitrarily despite the fluid nature of reality. The reason you cannot nail down values and keep them in one place is because life is less like a stop and go traffic jam and more like a flowing river. Life flows, it doesn't fall into slots, move forward at a predetermined speed, stop, and proceed again. It snakes surreptitiously around bends, down falls, it ripples and then sometimes is placid. Why should I want to immobilize my mind by making affirmations about the various values in life?

There is a necessity in certain circumstances to stand by your beliefs, of course. I would not suggest that we stand for nothing, but rather that we play the role of a limber mediator, capable of truly opening a dialogue with someone and all the while, being open to change as logic permits. It may do us all a great service to one another to be more diligent and deliberate in forming opinions. Innumerable times I have reconsidered my stance on various topics, and surely as I age I will continue to go back and forth.

Switzerland is a beautiful and happy country, and I don't mind claiming it. I find that a baseline disposition of neutrality makes the presence of strong opinions/debate seem less inflammatory. Nothing really bothers me any longer. You have your thoughts and feelings just as I have mine. Sometimes we agree and sometimes we disagree, and life goes on all the same.

The Lost Art of Longing.

There are sources of energy abound within and without us. Inspiration, deep thought, locomotion, postulation, curiosity, creativity. What these all have in common is an ability to generate energy within us. Though they all create energy in their own way, how we regard that energy and the means of getting there varies greatly. Even still, we have never arrived at an absolute regard for any one energy-maker. There are times when deep thought is good energy, and times when deep thought is bad energy.

Today I will ruminate about longing, and to what regard I presently place upon the act of longing. Longing, in its own fashion, manufactures energy within us. Many times in my life, longing has compelled me to write, to muse, to draw, to think. Occasionally it has led to sadness for what I don't have, or fondness for what I once had (and perhaps, may have again, given enough determination and the right circumstance). Longing is a reminder, a gut-punch of a memory. "You loved her once, and wasn't that a very good time in your life?" I might say to myself, in a state of forlorn longing. Or, to wit "These we very good times you had with her; thinking of her makes you happy, even though she is not yours presently." And I reassure myself that as long as I am alive, breathing and with pulses intact, she could be mine again.

This is longing energy. Throughout every day I am compelled by energies from myriad origin. Some energies make me want to write to the object of my longing beautifully. On the other hand, some energies leave me cursing previous objects of my longing under my breath. The most surprising aspect of longing, is that this object of longing can be at one time endearing, and a week removed, reviled. Having been alive long enough to experience recurrent longings of the same object or person, I have become circumspect in allowing this longing energy to move me at all.

But there is little harm in the art of longing coercing me into writing, for all writing is good writing to me. At this point I am not mandated to write, so it is all leisurely; truthfully, it is all artwork, until it is demanded  of me.

Victor Frankl, a Jewish man who survived placement in a concentration camp during WWII, spoke both warmly and despondently of longing. There were times, naked and shivering in bitter cold, when Victor Frankl would be digging ditches for plumbing infrastructure, and the only thought which sustained his efforts was a longing for his wife, of whom he was not certain was even still alive. But the mere act of longing sustained him, allowed him to deny the fate of succumbing to unforgiving cold or bitter prognosis in general. Throughout his inhumane incarceration in various camps, the art of longing sustained him just as much as it sent him into a deep state of melancholy, reaching for that which he could not have, or may never have again.

I cannot liken my stay in Iraq to the experiences of Victor Frankl, but I can relate to the energies loaned to me as a result of longing - both positive and negative energies, depending on how I regarded that particular moment of longing.

For now, I am longing, and for what, I will not say. Just know that the art of longing compelled me to write this entry, and in the future will be the impetus for writing several more. But for now, I wish to write no longer, and instead enjoy this warm longing for what it is.

Tear Down the Hull.

We all seek something different. Something compels us, every morning, to get out of bed and go forth. Away from the warmth, security and certainty of the bed and into a vast and colder unknown. There is an innate hunger within is us all, something which may be satiated in a moment but never quite conquered. For me, that hunger is for what dwells deep within all of us.

I want to meet new people, and talk with them, until we tear down the hull of their exterior and expose what is raw, beating and vulnerable within. When the hull is gone, the real conversation begins. What is it that makes your heart beat? What makes you persist in perpetual effort in this life? These are the things I am hungry to know. I am a sponge for these things; ready to soak them up at a moment's notice.

On more than one occasion, people have expressed pleasure in talking with me. We could talk about the weather, or your child's photos, or the latest Ford coupe, but there's something more, and we'd much rather talk about that. The good stuff. It's the stuff that makes us think, read and write. It is the depth to our very existence. This is what I constantly yearn for. Discussion of passion, humanity, belief and spirituality. We are all different in this way, with a universe existing within, ready to get out. If only someone was there to tear down the hull, disarm the destroyer.

I am seeking what is real. I am the person who prefers the ugly truth to the beautiful lie. Give me the gruesome content over the beautiful empty substance. When I speak to you, I want to know you -- the real you. So we can talk about the weather, and animals, and whatever perfunctory subject matter seems comfortable. But know it won't last. Know that I am always pushing in the direction of depth; the content within us.

One Month Veteran.

I've been here for a month. If I don't write much about my experiences, it's because this job is much like the fire department job before it: prolonged period of boredom and monotony punctuated intermittently by moments of surprise/terror. Not so much terror. Nope, never been terrified. Ok, mainly monotony.

Every day I wake up, I go for a run or a walk, read/meditate, eat breakfast, go to work (where I find myself reading or watching TED talks), go to lunch, close the clinic, go to the gym, shower, eat dinner, and unwind - much like I am doing right now. Now multiply this day by six and you have my work week. Sundays I am off, so that just leaves more time for the gym, the MWR, books or movies. Luckily online college courses start soon, which is a great reminder that this year spent in Iraq isn't for naught. There is no way I would have been able to manage attending college in the states, where I worked two jobs and had little time for much else.

One month down and two more to go until I go on leave. I'm going to explore some centuries-old Buddhist temples and ruins in southeastern Asia. Pretty exciting! I'll take as many pictures as I can remember to, though admittedly I am the world's worst at doing so.

Next week there is a 5k run on base, and I'm running in it. It's a good thing to break the monotony and spread kinship. Nothing else new to report of significance, so I'll sling some ephemera:

-Right knee never hurts now, even as I increase running mileage.
-So much chlorine in the water on base. I put lotion on 5-6 times a day and my hands/knuckles still feel like sandpaper. Anyone need me to sand a car before they prime/paint it? I'd be of great service for that the moment.
-Incidentally I've learned a good deal of central British slang recently thanks to the British security guards. Gleaming.

I probably didn't use 'gleaming' correctly just now. Over and out.

It's All About Momentum.

Man has labored mentally to a great extent on what makes us happy, what makes us sad, and how these ends of the spectrum are sustained. I have only ever lived as myself, but in observing my life I would say a life of happiness or sadness is very much dependent on momentum.

Going into this, it must be acknowledged that I try not to let external factors sway me. External factors are going to happen regardless of my efforts, so I put emphasis on the things I can control, such as how I interpret reality, deliberating greatly before passing judgment, and adherence to personal ethics. If my car breaks down or my cat becomes ill or my girlfriend cheats on me, I will employ as much emotional intelligence as I possess to handle the situation. As I have established in entries prior, I am the gatekeeper to my own emotions. Nothing and no one can upset me except me.

Back to momentum: I have observed in my adult life that my mood is effortless when it is tethered to good habits. The habits which I consider good are: reading, writing, running, stretching, and meditation. If I find the time to commit to all of these things in one day, I do not ever recall being in a bad mood. My bad mood tends to stem for adoption of poor habits: drinking in excess, being negative, disregard for my good habits, eating poorly. The main contributor is when I neglect to fulfill good habits. 

When you commit to good habits and repeat this for days, weeks, months, you build a certain momentum and these acts become part of your character. I become known as the guy who likes to run and read. Regardless of what you decide upon, I would make a list of your good, meaningful habits and perhaps create a schedule that you rigidly stick to so that you may experience a perpetual good mood as well. If you encounter a slump, a good slump-buster is to learn something new, or engage in a new hobby. For me, a new book always does the trick.

In conclusion, it is very simple to live well and reside with happiness. Observe the small and nuanced charms that life affords you. This site right here is especially good at reminding us about the small pleasantries in our existence we should be grateful for. Do not interpret reality as inherently bad, because that will lead to negative momentum, and it is all too easy to become a negative person. Interpret with positivity, as it yields an abundance of energy, a zest for living.

How I'm Doing.

Hello again to my modest viewership. To those who frequent my blog, this is going to be the best place to keep up with how I'm doing and what I'm doing.

Today began as most days do: very hot and with no relief by means of clouds or a breeze. As the afternoon has set in, amicable clouds rolled over camp and we received brief but welcome showers and a drop in the temperature. The extremely sparse plant life on base seems happy for the reprieve from oppressive heat; as am I.

On my wrist I wear a Casio G-Shock digital watch, given to me by my best friend Tony Messer perhaps two years ago. I can't help but consider all of the places it has already seen, and how incredibly durable it has been throughout these experiences; much like the friendship Tony and I possess. Everyone deserves at least one friend that understands them on a deeply spiritual level, so as to bring meaning to all of the experiences life affords us, and for me, Tony is that friend.

Also on my left wrist is the easily recognizable Livestrong bracelet, yellow in color. This was given to me by my new co-worker, Cindy Pruschki, who is the embodiment of living strong. She is closer to 60 than 50 and lives with so much vigor. She's an enduring spirit and works hard every day. She is showing me positive affirmation that we can live with intensity well into life. 

I began wearing the Livestrong bracelet Monday of last week, which is also when I vowed to integrate running into my life not as a habit, but a deep integration to the point where it is as natural as drinking water or getting plenty of rest. This past week I ran six days in a row, with today as my recovery day. I logged 18 miles which is modest, but a good start after considerable hiatus. My right knee has yet to scowl at me for reintroducing it to running. I'm going to attribute this to a rigid adherence to knee rehabilitation consisting of cycling extensively, quad strenghtening through weight training, and performing quad sets all throughout the day -- essentially any time I am standing I do them.

On my right wrist is a set of rosewood mala beads I acquired at Kamakura, Japan near Buddhist temples which I explored with former girlfriend and lifelong friend, Kimlee Davis. For a year and half this bracelet endured sweat, dirt, and showers while maintaining their rosewood smell. It has since languished in the olfactory department but is nonetheless a meaningful possession to me. I wear it daily and covet it as a reminder to return to the present moment and recount my great fortune in this charming life.

Though I am limited in what I can do here in Iraq, I find myself content to not do very much. As I have learned in the past, keeping good habits sustains happiness. Right action and right intention beget a true sense of joy which has staying power. For me it is not all that complicated; if I can read, write and run, I feel great. I have not been incredibly social since arrival to coastal Iraq, but I embrace my introversion and consider it a necessary asset to an aspiring writer.

I finished reading "The Art if Living" by Epictetus and would recommend this book to anyone who seeks meaning in their life and wants to enrich their character. It is a short and fairly noncommittal read, chunked into short, sometimes paragraph-long lessons which serve as sub-chapters. The translation by Sharon Lebell is succinct and without heady concepts. Easily digestible.

Moving on from Epictetus, I began reading a familiar author, one of my favorites. Haruki Murakami's "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running" is a bit of a running memoir. One third of the way through this book, it is an easy and endearing read because of just how well Haruki Murakami writes. His style is honest and inviting, as if you feel at ease processing his most intimate thoughts. I first appreciated Haruki Murakami when I read his iconic work "Norwegian Wood" which became so incredibly viral in Japan and world-wide that he had to flee Japan for several decades to escape the hysteria. Murakami is an introvert as well and the attention he received brought on a certain amount of anxiety. In advance I would recommend this book on running if you have or ever had a passion for it. He vocalizes some thoughts which surely many runners have had.

The food here is better than expected, but unfortunately it is highly processed and repetitive at this small base. As a rule I tend to shy away from the meat as there have been several instances of upset stomach on base already in just my first week here. I adhere to a diet plentiful in fruits and vegetables, eating legumes and seeds when available. So far this works well in tandem with my approach to running. I feel very good most of the time, and have noticed this pseudo-vegetarian diet does not induce the same sort of post-lunch lull that I would experience after a heavier lunch.

Facebook has been a contentious subject for me in the past because I have believed that it can bring out the worst in people. People often say things to others on Facebook which they may not say in person. I have since removed many people from my friend list and edited account settings to purge most of the negativity and cattiness. Ever since I have arrived in Iraq, Facebook has become a valuable commodity for staying in touch with people back home. Some good friends have been sending me music suggestions and I'm very happy with what I've been listening to so far. I'd be more than happy to share these newfound musical artists with anyone.

In summation, how I'm doing is good to great. This is silly to say though, because in one day we all experience to many emotions. But the most abundant emotion for me is happiness, thankfulness that I have the opportunity to live such an eventful life. I've met many Iraqi, Nepalese and Ugandan people and they are a joy to talk to. Their appreciation for very basic things is infectious, I must say.

I hope all is well stateside for my friends and family. One thing I have found in being here is that there is not much stress on a daily basis. There is simply nothing here to stress over. In the states we are embattled all the time with stressors from various sources, and it can be hard to manage. I hope to learn a lesson on how to reduce unnecessary stressors with my new setting. Perhaps this is something I can bring back home with me when I am done here.

Namaste.

American Aging & Mortality.

The first thing you should know about this entry is that I am 28 years old, and as such I will be writing from the perspective of a 28 year old American male. 

Of the numerous concepts which do not make sense to me, perhaps chief among them is the Western aversion to death and aging. What do death and aging have in common? The answer is: they are both inevitable. At this juncture in our evolution, we have not found a means of staving off the effects of aging up to and including death. We have made heroic leaps in the prevention of illnesses which were once the kiss of death such as diabetes, the plague, and even influenza. 

Heroics aside, we have not found the magic bullet that would terminate the possibility of death. What's more, one school of thought isn't in any real hurry to find a means of it. (to lump one side of the world grossly: Eastern philosophy) Yet we find in Western culture this generalized revile of aging and death, when in reality these can be perceived as truly beneficial components of being alive.

First I will address aging. In the beginning I wrote that I am 28 years old. To this point I have been an avid runner, I have spent many years a vegetarian - and many not - but by and large I have tried to live well. Given my exposure to plentiful Eastern philosophy readings, I can tell you that I've decided to live well, not to prolong the occurrence of death, but to simply make my time alive more enjoyable. To age better, perhaps. I acquiesce to aging and death, as we all should (for it is inevitable), but I do not acquiesce to being torn apart by the rigors of time. Some aches and pains are doubtless inevitable, but this is by no means a rigid rule. I have found many examples of aging well in my time so far.

To expand upon the premise of aging well, I also speak of aging well mentally and spiritually. To make this lesson absurdly simple, I would say less time should be spent watching TV and more time should be spent reading meaningful books. I do not want to seem condescending in recommending this, it is just that I have found life easier to understand through reading various books (especially philosophical efforts). I am beginning to realize that the torment of my early 20s has given rise to a feeling of peace and understanding in my later 20s. It used to be that when I learned new, perception-altering lessons through reading, I would despair that the rest of the world simply did not understand. Now, I know it is incumbent upon me to try my very best to bring out the best in those around me and bring meaning to every day life. And at the end of the day, if my efforts have failed, well, I offer a quote from General Patton: "If man has given his best effort, what else is there?"

Second, dying. We must all die. Does that seem grim to read? In Buddhist writings there is a certain peace accompanying death, because it terminates the cycle of suffering. We have an allotted amount of time to be alive (how much time is hard to say), and in that time we should derive as much meaning and virtue from life as we can. Within the parentheses of being alive, may you eventually find that money and status are only filler and do not give worth to what is within the parenthetical context of this life. As I liken birth to the open parenthesis, I liken death to the closed parenthesis. Here is why: without death, it is very hard to put value into a life lived, just as it would be difficult to interpret a parenthetical statement which has no ending parenthesis. Organically we know this to be true, and that is why a person's death summons family and friends to the graveside where we all process the worth of the individual as applied to each of our individual lives.

Death is part of what gives this beautiful life meaning. If we were to carry on living, we would have difficulty realizing the preciousness of simply breathing, of smiling, of being alive! So you see (or perhaps you still fear death and you don't see) how death is actually very beautiful. When I die, I would hope that my body is so tired from all its meaningful use that death will simply be welcome, that the closed parenthesis will allocate some sense of worth and meaning to these efforts I have exerted over the course of my life.

If you have never read books containing Eastern philosophy, I would recommend it. There is little sense living in paranoia of death, which is a certainty for all of us.

I finish this post as a 28 year old male, who is trying to age as well as he can, so that I may live meaningfully for myself and for others. There is still so much I don't know and so many aches and pains I have surely never experienced, but I do know that I don't fear death, and I embrace my inevitable aging.

Stone Lasso.

Preface to this blog: Google has decided not to translate my blogger page from Arabic to English, so this may end up being a great big mess.

Update: it just translated, yay technology!

Since I arrived at Umm Qasr I have collected a smooth stone from the gravel walkways all around base for each day I am here. If all goes according to plan, I will have 30 stones in my possession, each with a date affixed to them by my green sharpie. In addition I write a word or two on each stone which chronicles a significant event of each day spent here. 

I do this for two, nay, three reasons.

1) With a memory affixed to each stone, it will make my time spent here easier to recall one day down the road, should I be able to tolerate lugging around a bag filled with stones. Who knows when this will end?  Perhaps I am setting myself up for turmoil and I simply won't be able to part with these memory stones. Perhaps I will. Non-attachment exercise.

2) The stone for the current day is placed in my pocket for the entirety of the day. The stone is large, and takes up enough pocket real estate that I am always aware of its presence in my pocket. When I am aware of the stone in my pocket, it acts as a lasso to corral my mind back to the present moment, instead of fretting wildly about the array of things which may or may not happen to me.

3) What else am I going to do? I have nothing but time over here, so I may as well do something, even if it is just collecting, washing, and scribing upon stones.

One day I'm going to have a lot of stones to contend with. I have a weight limit to stay under when I am transported via helicopter from base to base, so this ultimately poses an issue to me. 

But hey, that's Buddhism. There are challenges down the road, and I will address them properly when they get here. But for now, I have stones.

A Spot of Bother.

Let's take a step away from the every day to consider a couple of thoughts. Perhaps you are aware of these lessons already, but theory and implementation are two entirely different beasts.

The first lesson: events which occur throughout the day do not inherently harm us. It is our perception and consideration of these events which harms us. We, then, are the gatekeepers of our own joys and pains, highs and lows. The world does not exist as a vexation machine here to beat you down. The world could care less how you regard it. It is your reality to perceive, and if you perceive reality as threatening, then you will live angry and afraid.

The next time someone raises their voice at you, makes a threatening gesture, or is disingenuous to you, remind yourself that you are the gate keeper to your feelings. You are not powerless in these situations; just the opposite. You have every bit of power to remain calm, stoic, in the face of confrontation with reality.

Once this lesson has been learned and implemented, you can take it a step further.

The second lesson: as mentioned above, when you think someone is irritating you, it is up to you to construct a response to this irritation. No one can, in and of themselves, irritate you. Only your response to someone's actions can irritate you. Therefore, only you can irritate you. I hope you follow this, because it helps in understanding the point of the second lesson.

When you understand that only you can bother yourself, and no one else, you realize that blaming the world around you or the people in it for your misfortunes is entirely infantile. It is no one's fault but your own when you are winning, losing or stagnating. To cast blame is to display your own weakness, your lack of ability to absorb reality as it really is. It is your inability to be the gatekeeper of your own responses to the stimuli of the world around you.

In summation, lesson one: only you can bother you - no one else can. Lesson two: knowing that only you can bother you, realize that blaming external factors such as the world or people in it is entirely childish.

To understand these concepts is fairly easy, but implementing them requires a lifetime of commitment. And what for? Why, to be a better human being to those around you. If you do not like the world in its present state, with its rampant greed, consumerism, and its deceptiveness in politics, then it is up to us on an individual level to educate. We must make each other better so that the whole may become better. You as a single person are remarkable and endowed with the ability to leave a positive mark on those around you. Wisdom is communicable, so let it be.