Everyone is Stupid

“Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”

-attributed to Albert Einstein

I agree.
My belief is that everyone has a nearly equal net intelligence. (The rest of this post uses this as an axiom.  If you disagree, my argument is null and void and there is little point to you continuing on reading this.) People considered genii are usually high above the average in a specific type of smarts, but by my belief this also means that they are either severely below average in a different ability or slightly below average in many of the rest.  [As unfounded proof: Note the stereotype of the nerds/geeks who have high levels of mental prowess but feeble physical strengths and relatively low social skills, while the stereotype of the jocks with incredible physical self-knowledge but little academic ability (and low social skills; they get popularity from their talent, not social suave).]   Due to the cultural push for specification, it is likely that those who have strengths in certain areas will continue to work and improve in those areas, while their weakness continue to become frail. Thus the true "average" who is perfectly normal in every category is unlikely enough to make Einstein's statement statistically valid.

Also, it makes mine valid.  Everyone is an idiot.

Now that my word choice has hopefully manipulated you into a defensive mode (either in defense of yourself or someone you know), allow me to explain.

The fact that everyone is an idiot is a wonderful thing.  Teaching brings people together, when all are willing to learn.  [A domineering and stubborn instructor is just as useless as an proud student.  Realize that you and everyone around you is an idiot, and be okay with learning more.  You'll enjoy it.  I promise.]  Because everyone is an idiot, everyone can be taught.  Because everyone has approximately equal net intelligence, anyone with more than you in one area has less than you in another.  Thus teaching is always possible and whoever can humble themselves enough to take instruction can continually draw closer to others.

See?  Being unintelligent is a marvelous thing.

Unfortunately, it's harder than it sounds as people have different learning and teaching styles, and trying to fit them together doesn't always work.

Personally, I have a problem with unfocusing.  You can't teach me more than one thing simultaneously, and you can't teach me much at all if I'm doing any task that requires my attention.  In addition: I am not very in tune with my body, so whoever generously attempts to teach me anything physical cannot expect good results if they assume I can do anything "naturally".
This was my problem in dance.  I felt like that fish trying to climb a tree.  Or more like a canary told to learn to dive and instead ending up very depressed and rather dead.  I am slow in remembering steps to begin with, so any more than five and I was lost.  Add on the techniques of shoulders back, arms down, closed hands, up on toes, straight legs, point foot but not sickle, big jumps but ones that land on beat, and keeping feet turned out and I felt so overwhelmed that most of the time my brain just gave up.  I can get one thing at a time.  One.  And I need a lot of time to practice that one thing before it becomes natural enough to do without thinking.  It was luckily a beginning dance class, so I still got a B+, but I was certainly glad when I no longer had to attend it.
This was also my problem today in jiujutsu.  Normally I do quite well, as the moves are taught step by step and we are given time to practice over and over again before we move on.  It still takes a long time before I can remember anything in an actual grapple, and even longer to perform them well in one, but this method of instruction works well for me.  Being slow to learn, I often get into positions where I don't really know what to do from there, so my partner teaches me something.  Unfortunately, the teaching style of one of my opponents didn't work all that well for me.  I assume that he was used to his body and was pretty good at figuring things out, because that's how he would attempt to teach me.  I can't do that.  If I'm in a bad position, my first and only focus is survival.  Don't die yet.  Don't die yet. Keep going.  So surviving AND trying to "figure out" how to change positions is beyond me.  I'm also not really a spacial thinker, so my brain doesn't creatively see positions with any kind of accuracy.  Luckily he gave me hints and pointers each time I floundered for a minute or so.  Which was every time.  I still learned a lot, but his teaching style only served to frustrate me.  Lying on the ground with him sitting on my chest forever as I struggled to keep him from choking me or breaking my arm was not fun and not too informational.  I must admit that practicing survival from the worse side of mount was good, but I still wish he would of taught me things and let me practice instead of waiting for me to fail long enough that it was obvious that I couldn't do anything.

Thinking over this, I realized something.  I probably do this to other people, specifically with math.  My ability to focus works incredibly well with math, as I can attack a problem from many different angles for quite some time without tiring.  I can also plow through pages of work on a single equation and still be going strong.   While I try to recognize that the people that need my help do not have the minds that will figure it out for themselves, I think I can sometimes push people to apply the method I've just shown them before they really understand how it works.

Then again, sometimes people are just lazy and want me to do algebra from them.  Not that I mind really, algebra is fun for me.
Either way, I should probably be a little more sensitive to others' inability to comprehend things at my level, and a little more patient with myself when I don't quite get things at someone else's.

Small Rant

I don't need convincing, I need help.

I consider myself a very analytical person, and I can assure you I've weighed the pros and cons multiple times.  My decisions are rather set once I settle them and arguing will be fruitless unless you happen to have some new information or a point I truly hadn't considered.  [Best of luck in that endeavor.]

Furthermore, WE ARE IN AGREEMENT.
So please: cut the speech; listen to me; help me out here.
I know what needs to be done, I just need a few extra hands to help me get there.

Can you love mine?

Set Your Sights

I'm of the opinion that the mind is an incredibly powerful thing, and that it can do nearly anything.  I also believe that one's basis of agency stems completely from the mind.

As the task we have in this life is to use our agency correctly, we must then learn how to hone our minds to do the right thing.  Coming up with the perfect answer to this is nigh impossible, but from my current experience focus has quite a lot to do with it.

One's actions do come from the mind, but not just immediate thoughts.  A mind it something like an amoeba of ideas.  It can move and branch out, but it can't get too far from the center, and the center doesn't move too quickly.  Some people really cannot comprehend things, because it is simply too far from their current "center" to reach it.  Can they get there eventually? Certainly.  Will it take work?  Yes.

Our minds are light-attracted amoebas.  Within this context, light does not refer to goodness; it refers to happiness.  Any ounce of joy within our reach we'll grab at, whether it's the sunlight of peace or the fluorescence of pleasure.  In addition, we don't really like to move.

In summary - we'll naturally shift towards whatever light is near us, and naturally focus on whatever is easily happy for us.

Our brains need light, but the wrong kind can kill them.   The plethora of numbing lights can be nice, but also devastating.  Not only are we surrounded by a multitude of easy distractions, our own minds can create complex imaginings that can take us from this world and keep us cozy inside our own heads.  This relief from life can be a very good stress reliever when used correctly, but all too often our amoebas bathe in the light and come out weary and lethargic, only to return again.  In our further slowed state we are even more reluctant to move and less likely to head towards the more distant sunlight.

Pulse lights are also devastating.  The bright flash is stimulating and incites emotional functioning like no other, but fades all too quickly.  After the bright light the world seems darker, and the amoeba franticly searches for another pulse nearby. One can get caught in the endless cycle, forever getting more extreme in the need for bright light and the despair of following darkness until it simply becomes too much.

True sunlight is marvelous, but it moves.  One cannot simply sit in the same place and expect to bathe in the glow all day.  The effort it takes to follow the sun is weighed against the feel of the light, and one chooses to either move with it or let it leave.
Unfortunately, with all of the pulse lights and numbing glows around, choosing to follow the best light is a difficult decision.


Now for some specifics:
The reason I'm making this extended metaphor is because I've been finding myself to be a rather unintelligent amoeba lately.  I've got both a numbing light and a pulse and neither of them are doing me any real good.

The numbing light is my mental fantasy realm.  Away from everything, it promises boundless possibilities and harbors no fears.  Everything goes exactly as planned.  People are no worry.  Anything I want to do is doable.  Everything is perfect, except for one thing:  it's not real.
In my hole of imagination I hide away from the world that isn't perfect, and reality looks scarier every day.   It is unfortunate that this has been my coping mechanism my entire life, because my amoeba is so used to living here that moving away at all is a great struggle.  Yet it must happen.   The downward spiral of escapism only to return and find the world scarier than I remembered and subsequently flee back to make-believe has unfortunately become unstable.  Reality has become so frightening that I'm oblivious to nearly everything, and when I look for a reason to live life I don't have one.  My usual plan to fix this?  Stop thinking about it and head back to dreaming.  My life used to be scary.  It may not have been scary objectively, but for me it was frightening.  That is no longer the case.  The world around me is actually rather marvelous, but I have been so conditioned to disappear that it's all I can do right now.   I can't live by surviving the bouts of reality and hiding from them whenever possible, and I most certainly cannot progress that way.  Thus:  I'm trying to tone down the intensity of my imagination and live here a little bit more.  No promises though, this is a difficult process.

I am embarrassed to admit, but the pulse is the promise of love.  Yes, I feel stereotypical, corny, and all around pathetic, but as a normal human being, this happens.  In addition, our culture is infused with references to love.  There are endless songs, billions of books, and nearly infinite images of people in love.  While a large part of this is romantic love, and romantic love seems to be one of if not the most cathartic form, there are others that are also potent.  Familial love is strong, and by many accounts a necessity for normal functioning.  While most people, including me, probably have more love than they think they have, the stories of perfect families entice us to wish for more.  So many people I've talked to have wished they had an extra sibling.  Or one less.  Or a different one.  Or a different parent.  Or a different family altogether.  As much as some families might seem, no family is perfect.  In addition no family, no matter how amazing, is going to fulfill your desire for that strong feeling of love all the time. No person will for that matter.
That brings me to the heavier half of love: one-on-one relationships.  I'm grouping romantic relationships and best-friendships together because if your significant other is not your best friend, that's a different kind of pulse light altogether.  Living in a singles ward, this desire is rampant.  Not everyone is frantically searching for someone, but many are.  In my opinion, the supplements don't really help.  Love that will sustain a family is not the infatuation that will remove a person's faults.  Love that will last and continue to sustain the poor amoeba is the kind that comes when you really learn the inside of someone, and more importantly, let them inside you.  So the Jane Austen marathons don't do much except scratch that itch to have that someone and increase the threat of loneliness.  The momentary happiness is enjoyable, but the lasting hole hurts.  If it gets too out of hand, one's desperation can lead one to choose to take whatever they can.  This usually leads to dropping it when it gets stale.  This leads me to where I am in this mess:  due to my aforementioned lack of reality, I'm too scared of other people and too scared of being a terrible best friend to really be considered looking.  I still allow myself to watch the movies, read the books, and listen to the songs, but I'm aware I'm nowhere close to finding anyone.  The resolution with this one is to try to lessen the ache of longing, but if this one falls through, I'm not too worried.


In summary:  Be wary of what you focus on; dwell too long and addiction might set in.
I've got plans to improve.

Novelty

So.  Much.  Stuffs.

My dear followers, I regret to inform you that this is less of a philosophical/emotional rant than a simple update of all that's been going on.  Somewhat uncharacteristic of me, but oh well.

Here goes:

Housing - I HAVE A HOUSE!!! [Okay, not really a house.  But still, somewhere to live!]  Being homeless was draining, but my wonderful extended family let me stay with them for a couple days.  Even so I was so excited to be moving in.  I like the new place and my roommates seem to be jolly good people.
As for Brookview, I've attempted to contact them by phone and email, but they haven't contacted me back...  In addition they have yet to contact me about the fact that I haven't paid them anything nor have I moved in.  Could I possibly just be lucky enough that they decided to leave me alone?

Work - Being at the desk by myself?  Stupendous.  No, I don't have someone else to entertain my or to help me when I don't know something, but I'm an independent worker anyways, so managing the desk on my own gives me the opportunity to manage as I please.  I have a little less hours than before, but with my free time in only taking two classes, I can take on more guest services shifts.

Classes - I get to start into my microbiology major!  Woohoo!  Infection and immunology should be incredibly interesting, and I'm excited to delve into the material.  That being said, it is for sure going to be very difficult.  I'm glad I don't have to worry about more than cell bio and inf&imm because just the two of them are going to be quite a strain on my brain.
In other news I got an A in physics.  CRAZY!

People - James is gone.  Nefi is gone.  Crystal is gone.  Austin has been gone.  Natalie has been gone.  I don't have all that many friends.  I certainly enjoy not having too many people to worry about talking too, but not having any isn't fun either.
BUT!  Tahlia is still here, and my room-roommate (Sam) seems very personable.
Plus Trace Stay is in my inf&imm class.  So I'll be good methinks.


That concludes my update.  Hope you enjoyed it.  Or at least enjoyed wasting time.

Cataclysm

Sometimes it seems like everything is crashing down at once.
To be truthful though, there's always something that isn't falling on your head.
The neat thing about things falling is that there's only so far they can fall.  The resounding crash is horrendous, but the following silence is nice.
Wade it out, and things will get better.
Or at least you will.

Special. Normal.

It's interesting to note that people often flip between wanting to be special and wanting to be normal.
Usually this comes in resistance to being more special/normal than you want to be.

Personal example (rare for me, isn't it?):

I had a talent show to practice for, and my hula-hoop routine requires a lot of space.  Unfortunately, space cannot be found without people in it, so I had to practice outside.   Small guy.  Big hula hoop.  Dancing.
Not exactly the most common occurrence.  Thus I attracted the stares of the passerby coming and going.  I got a couple waves from people I knew, but I had headphones in and was able to justify ignoring them.
My only thought was, "GO AWAY!"  I'm lucky to be nearsighted so I didn't see if the stares were in amazement or derision, but I didn't like the attention nonetheless.  My drive to do well at the show beat out my social paranoia, but even so I still felt the desire to just be normal.  Don't stare at me.  Don't leave me.  I'm understandable.  I'm relatable.  I'm normal, I promise!

On the other hand, this post was sparked by a statistic I fit.   As one thing leads to another x% of people who do la-di-dah do ho-di-ho.   Great.   I'm in the x%.  Just like anyone else in my position.   The threat of being too normal is arguably scarier than the threat of being too special.  If you are too normal, then you are replaceable.  Worth little.  Common.  One could even say that as a cookie cutter human being you lack any innovative ability.  You are simply a product of your environment.


Extremes are nearly always detrimental, and this case is no different.
We don't always get to choose how "special" or "normal" other people feel we are, but maybe in this case it's okay to bite into the sickeningly sweet repetitions drilled into our heads by pastel colors and geese in hats: We get to choose how special or normal we think we are, and that's enough.