"Dirty Old Dog"

Is it so hard to find something nice to say,
About a dirty old dog, that's had his day?
Now he mopes 'n lopes around the home,
Unwilling to play fetch or chew on a bone.
Barking at nothing, or napping all 'morn,
With fur all matted, needing to be shorn.
Pooping inside and peeing around,
That noisy house, though he can't hear a sound.

But I remember when he was just a pup,
When I taught him to sit and to speak up.
He knew how to "shake" and beg by my chair,
My dinner with him, I would always share.
He was smart as a whip and as fast as a dart,
We're the best of friends and never apart.
So I guess it's not hard to find something nice to say,
About that dirty old dog, that always made my day.

© 2012 The King's Coffee, All Rights Reserved.

A Guide to Making Friends, Pt. 2: Dealing with Rejection

This post is not necessarily meant as a sequel to my first post on developing friendships, but while writing it, I suppose that's what it became. In my long history of friendships, I've learned some incredibly valuable things. One thing is that when I talk about physics, I scare people away. Another thing is that you shouldn't be too eager to evangelize because people are turned off to that kind of thing. And also, that you can't pay people to be your friends (well, if you want them to be real friends that is).

However, I believe that all of my "lessons learned" don't hold a candle to the priceless understanding that I have acquired regarding rejection (specifically, with friendships, but romantic relationships can fit in here as well). No matter who you are, we've all experienced it.

So, you meet someone you really think is alot of fun (guy or girl, it doesn't matter). They seem to enjoy themselves and you think, "Gee, I'm really attracted to this person's fun-loving nature. I think I want to get to know him/her more." You talk for a little bit and if you're smart, you don't take this as a sure-fire sign that they like you already. They might be conversing with you out of politeness, but that's ok, you're not best buds yet.

Fast-forward a week. You want to get a group of people together or maybe you just want to hang out with this person for some one-on-one time. You call this person to see what they're up to and they say they're busy or maybe that they'll keep your invitation in mind as they figure out their evening/weekend plans. Ultimately, they decide to not hang out with you. And that's the same story for the following weekends until you just decide to give up on them.

Why do people do that?? They never get back to you, they never decide to hang out with you, and they may ignore you at all future gatherings. In other words, they're just really flaky and not committed to forming a friendship with you, despite there seeming to be some initial potential. Unfortunately, I still search for the answer to this question, but my gut tells me that it varies by circumstance. But, it doesn't change the way you feel. Repeat the above-described process a couple more times and it'll kill any motivation you ever had to make friends, especially in a new environment. You feel like you've extended your hand to someone and it's been slapped away or, worse, chopped off. Or maybe you feel like you stuck your neck out for someone with a little generosity, only to have the ax swing and rend your head from your shoulders. It's painful, it hurts, and nobody likes to feel that way.

People can be disappointing. Certainly a depressing thought, but despite all the optimistic thoughts about human beings, I've found this one to be fairly consistent. Therefore, I propose the following thought: let not the measure or worth of your friendship efforts be the responsiveness (or lack of responsiveness) on the part of those whose friendship you pursue. Or in other words, change your operational mindset when making friends.

The approach I propose requires concentration on what each of us is doing to facilitate a welcoming atmosphere to those we wish to befriend. We must polish our approach to people to make them feel welcome. We shouldn't go to social events as if we're going out into the wilderness to "headhunt" for friends. This approach is too aggressive and our intentions will quickly become apparent to those we encounter. They will feel "stalked" or "preyed upon" if we aggressively attempt to make their acquaintance. And obviously, this quality is wholly unattractive in another human being.

When we go out to socialize, we must bring the hospitality of our homes with us. Instead of hoping to slay someone with our charm, wit, and laughter, we should have the mindset of inviting people to us, telling them to pull up a chair, and enjoy one another's company. That's the difference. A "headhunting" friendship approach is based on results; a "home entertainer" friendship approach is based on improving our own merits. Instead of going out to win or conquer friends, we develop our personal generosity and then invite others to join us in our exquisite beneficence. If performed genuinely, this can be deeply gratifying for you, the host. And it will encourage others to open their generosity to you as well.

There are a few key pitfalls to this approach that must be avoided. One may interpret this approach as allowing others to "take, take, take" from your well-meaning. You must keep your dignity here because a successful friendship is never a one-sided engagement. Anyone who is interested in who you are for who you are will naturally be willing to return your kindness with their own form of graciousness. Another is that when realizing that someone is not interested in being your friend, we become bitter and self-righteous, claiming that "they were never deserving of my generosity", so "screw them". This must be avoided at all costs because it robs us of our peace and completely disarms this mindset. It is also indicative of a regression into the "headhunter" mentality, which gets frustrated and resentful when results are not achieved. If you do not have peace with this approach, then you're not doing it right.

There are many other benefits to this mindset as well. One benefit is that as long as you have purged your intentions of any "headhunting" tendencies, you will be better equipped to deal with rejection better. If someone isn't open to you good will, you can move on because you weren't concerned with "conquering" them to begin with. Instead, you can turn your efforts to other prospects. Secondly, since this approach is focused on our own service and merit offerings, we can seek to make friends and deal with rejection dispassionately. If someone refuses your generosity, look elsewhere for those who can appreciate your hospitality. We can be resistant to bitterness and emboldened against rejection. Also, this emboldenment will necessarily boost our self-esteem and self-image. We can become confident in what we have to offer other people and sure of our own merits.

If you are in a new environment or just looking to make friends, I highly recommend that you give this approach an honest try.

The Human Good

"Aristotle with a bust of Homer" by Rembrandt 

There is no other individual who has had such a profound and lasting impact on my academic development as Aristotle. I chose to center my philosophy major electives on this great thinker of ancient times because of his insight and perception into the nature of human beings. A biologist by discipline, he based his philosophy on generally observed principles, then logically derived a specific conclusion, a process known as deductive reasoning. Though Plato's philosophy reigned supreme for most of the history of the early Catholic Church, St. Thomas Aquinas was responsible for reviving interest in Aristotle's writings.

In my opinion, the most timeless work of Aristotle is his Nicomachean Ethics. I've read this work countless times and each time, I seem to learn something new. But of all the works' contents, the proof and definition of the human good stands alone in depth of insight.

At the beginning of the work, Aristotle claims that our desires all aim to achieve some particular good (for if the didn't, we would have no motivation to obtain goods; desires motivate us to "goods", loosely defined). And as there are a hierarchy of desires, there is a hierarchy of goods, necessarily leaving one good for the sake of which we do everything in life. So there's one thing that everybody wants the most and Aristotle calls this thing eudaimonia. Though eudaimonia was a topic of much debate in the ancient world, Aristotle defines it as "a flourishing, completeness" of a human life. The word "happiness" has often been used as a shortcut to describe eudaimonia, but a modern understanding of "happiness" should be avoided.

So what exactly constitutes eudaimonia (herein referred to as "happiness", for simplicity's sake)? As mentioned above, one could say that is the chief good. Rather, it is the chief good of man (it would be ridiculous to claim the the chief good was the same for every thing). So what is the chief good of man? Aristotle suggests that it lies in determining the function of man: what man is for. For example, we say that for a painter, his function is to paint, and considered as a painter, painting is thought to be his good. Thus, if man is to have a chief good, man must have a function.

To discover what man's function is, Aristotle considers what is unique to man. Each tool in a tool chest is uniquely shaped and formed to perform a certain function (pounding, screwing, prying, etc.), and after careful inspection of the shape of each tool and by noticing unique features, we can determine what each tool is supposed do. Similarly, an investigation into the unique features of man will reveal what his function is. Living/growing/nourishment/reproduction are features of man, but they are also shared with plants, therefore, not unique to man. Locomotion/sensation/perception are features of man, but they are also shared with animals, therefore, also not unique to man.

So what is left is man's simultaneous obedience and possession of reason and the exercising of rational thought. This, Aristotle collectively refers to as rational activity, and it is the human function. And the chief good of man lies in the performance of that function, rational activity.

Furthermore, because we're talking in terms of goods and hierarchy of goods, it's important to take note of degrees of good. If rational activity is man's function, and if man's function points to what the chief good of man might be, then the chief good of man must be the best performance of his function. Returning to the example of the painter, we would say that a painter is a "good painter" if he performs the activity of painting well. And we would say that he is an "excellent painter" if he performed the activity of painting to the highest degree of proficiency ("excellent" referring to a "goodness in the highest degree"). Similarly, we would say a man is a good man if he performs his function, rational activity, well. Speaking further, we would say that a man is an excellent man if he performs rational activity excellently. And the excellent performance of rational activity, Aristotle calls virtue.

Therefore, the chief good of man is the practice of virtue, excellent rational activity.

"Temptation"

Courtesy of www.toeverytribeblog.com

Temptation

Though they say, “the road to Hell is paved with good intentions,”

None were quite as good as mine.

Though I assured Father I would offend and lapse no more,

I lie, famished, with the swine.

Though my heart, in trials, yearns for your intervention,

To my grim fate, I resign.

Though I lift my eyes to your glory to gladly adore,

I descend to acts, malign.

But though I walk in the dark forest of my own blunders,

In shade, does Your mercy shine.

But though the hounds and vultures of the Netherworld surround,

You lift me to visions divine.

But though hosts of fiends seek to rend my spirit asunder,

My soul is for hands of Thine.

But though every power, terror, horror of Hell, around,

I stay a branch, You the Vine.

Through failure, defect, and fault,

You, My God, my soul exalts.

© 2012 The King's Coffee, All Rights Reserved.

Finding Nemo and the Wonder of Discovery

Finding Nemo

My favorite Pixar movie is "Finding Nemo". I know, everyone from my generation would probably beat me senseless over such blasphemy because my favorite Pixar film should be "Toy Story". (actually, I might like "Toy Story 2" better than the first one; double blasphemy!) It might be because it's been years since I've seen either of the two first Toy Story films, but nonetheless, "Finding Nemo" finds itself at the top of the list. And why not? It's a visually beautiful film, Thomas Newman's score is soothingly serene, and where else would you learn that clown fish aren't really that funny?

But I like it for a different reason. Yes, I'm typically attracted to visually appealing films and pretty soundtracks, but this film had re-awoken something in me that few other films have touched upon: my inner boyhood.

No sooner had the film finished than I was on YouTube, clicking through National Geographic videos of marine life (especially whales), reigniting my boyish curiosity and wonder. The diversity of the multitudinous marine species was astounding to me, even now.

The instructional drawing book my
mother gave me in 1st grade.

As a boy, I was a science nerd. Anything I could get my hands on, I'd just eat up whatever knowledge I could. Ocean wildlife, though one of many topics, was definitely one of my favorites. I dreamed of becoming a marine biologist and working with undersea creatures.

This got me to thinking. Throughout my liberal arts education, I've become painfully aware of the havoc wrought by the modern era. To be fair, there have been some excellent technological advances in the modern age, but to also be fair, there have been some fatal errors in thought that have brought about many modern-day horrors (the Holocaust, moral-relativism, communism, etc.) The one that quickly came to mind was the scientific method.

The scientific method is based on the notion of inductive reasoning, which takes individual observations, makes a general statement (hypothesis) about them, then creates an experiment to test the statement. If properly used, inductive reasoning is a powerful tool for science. This is primarily what is meant by the Scientific Revolution of the Renaissance. It is true that human innovation and technology have advanced more in the past 500 years than in any given 500 years in recorded human history. And it may be true that the power of inductive reasoning is to be given credit for this. However, with the expansion of man's ability to innovate has also come the expansion of man's insatiable desire for material things.

It's not wonder that technological engineering has become the religion of the world. Material gods such as the iPhone, the personal computer, the Blu-Ray, the social network, the feeding of the world's hungry, and even the cure for cancer have driven science to fulfill our material needs. I do not despise the iPhone/computer/Blu-Ray/social network (I possess all four) or ending world hunger/curing cancer. These are not evils in themselves, but they certainly are what we make of them. (and yes, I believe that even the search for a cure for cancer can be corrupted by our desire to cheat death) At the end of the day, the modern world asks of science, "Does it make life easier?"

When was the last time we did something just because we wanted to satisfy our wonder and curiosity? Inductive reasoning tends to rob us of our natural wonder and awe because we hope for results we've already predicted in a hypothesis. We've forgotten that part of ourselves that is always seeking answers; the inquisitive little boy or girl in all of us.

Maybe it isn't science that you're curious or inquisitive about. Maybe you grew up wanting to be a famous artist, and now you're a marketing major or working for a graphic design firm. Or maybe you loved learning about history and ancient cultures, and now you're a politician or a lawyer. Or maybe you are like me, growing up as an inquisitive junior scientist and mathematician, but now you're an engineer or a doctor. If we allow it, we can lose our curiosity.

And is life worth living if we ignore our questions? Yes, our curiosity is insatiable and that's one of the things that makes us human, but feeding that desire fills the soul with wonder. It enables us to see past ourselves and our wants/needs and draws our focus to see the world as it really is: filled to the brim and overflowing with spectacles and amazement unparalleled by any other. Whether it's the depth of space or the ocean, the thick rain forests of South America or the grassy savanna of the African plains, the changes in the weather or the changes in the nucleus of the atom in a nuclear reaction, the world is full of natural wonders to be marveled at.

And return to that innocent inquisitiveness is possible. We can learn things, solely for the sake of knowing and satisfying that curious little boy or girl inside. Just begin by asking yourself: how old are sea turtles?

Opinion: Rudy and Notre Dame

For most people, the University of Notre Dame, my alma mater, is typically associated with football, merchandise, and the film "Rudy" (or how the administration invited Barack Obama to speak at commencement; oh, I've not forgotten).

I'm watching the film right now, actually. Fall is around the corner and I want to go back, so I'm getting the beautiful cinematography of campus. I was lucky to have my dad take me and my brother up to campus for a few football games when I was little (he earned his bachelors and law degrees from ND). I didn't really care as much for the football, but the campus was gorgeous and it was alot of fun to be there. There was something about the place that I never could forget. I, like Rudy, also transferred into Notre Dame; I was not accepted out of senior year of high school. My first year there was my sophomore year, so I had three years there. The summer weekend that I was on campus to look for an apartment for sophomore year, My dad, my little brother and I watched "Rudy" on my laptop in St. Ed's, which had been converted into an "alumni hotel" for visitors during the summer vacation months. I remember being excited to finally be here and getting ready for the experience of a life time. I wouldn't say I loved the film, but it was exciting to see the campus and now to be there for real.

And then I saw it again as a senior. It was the night before my first LSAT, so I had essentially quarantined myself from everyone to make sure that I got a relaxing evening before the big test. I had decided to close the LSAT study book, grabbed a light snack and went through my film collection to pick one that would be relaxing and inspirational, and "Rudy" seemed to fit that bill. I didn't do so great the next day on the test. I blame Rudy.

If my time at Notre Dame taught me anything, it was to dislike Fighting Irish football. I remember loving it as a young-un (my first words, in order, were "mommy/daddy", "no", and "cheer, cheer for ol' Notre Dame"), watching it on TV with my family. It was a really awesome tradition. But as a student, I swiftly realized that it brought the worst out of people. It might be true that the university wouldn't be as prolific as it is today if it weren't for the revenue generated by football, but I often found myself wondering if it hasn't become an end in itself. Fighting Irish football had become such a materialistic commodity and the center of everyone's attention that it's gigantic presence in everyone's mind had suffocated the aspects of Notre Dame that really are special, such as spiritual formation. The administration was so focused on squeezing every last dime out of fans (and students) and bombarding students' consciousness with every update on the football team.

So, back to "Rudy". The last time I saw this film (senior year), I was struck at how much I hadn't paid attention to the things Rudy was telling people about how he was going to play football for Notre Dame and the facial reactions of those people at this thought. Talk about delusions of grandeur! The character looks crazy! Everyone looked at him as if he had lost his mind. I think maybe he did, at some point. So he's at his best friend's funeral (the one who died in the factory accident) and he leaves the service early to sob in the foyer with his gf trying to console him. The first thing he says when he composes himself is how much he misses his friend now that he's gone... oh, wait, actually he says that he's decided to go to South Bend to try to get into Notre Dame. Oops, never mind. Then, pretty much everyone he tells, he says that he's going to play football for Notre Dame.

So, ok, I don't like the fact that Rudy is obsessed with football. There comes a point where his mentor tells Rudy that even if he never gets to dress for a game, he'll be graduating with a degree from the University of Notre Dame (and I wish he would have added that he will have received the valuable spiritual formation in those critical college years, but it wouldn't be Hollywood if it was expected to get everything right). And that is something. That's truly a staggering something. And he will have had an experience of a lifetime.

Contrary to most inspirational sports films, I think this film could have been my favorite film of all time if the protagonist had not achieved some measure of success in the sport. It really would have been a happily-ever-after if the dream of playing football had motivated him to discover the bigger things in life: learning, friendships, and most importantly, faith. In this alternate version of the story, he would have been so consumed with going to Notre Dame to play football that along the way, he discovered how much he loved to learn, how Notre Dame is a place to meet really great people, and how he learned to love Christ and His Mother, Mary, after whom the university is named. And this is what makes his dreams come true. And when he doesn't make the cut for the football team or he doesn't get to dress in uniform for a game, he realizes how little that matters to him now. He's found what he was searching for, and it wasn't what he set out to find.

And besides, the fact that Notre Dame ever cooperated with the production of a film about a hobbit playing football is completely beyond me.