Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Best Laid Plans of Mice & Men

The plans of the heart belong to man,
But the answer of the tongue is from the Lord
I've been thinking about this saying lately. Actually, I've been thinking of a conversation I had with a mentor friend of mine a long, long time ago when I asked him "Of whose tongue is the saying speaking?"

We ended up in a discussion about initiative verses success, and some of the many arenas where we're highly dependent on others: Education, jobs, friendship, romance, etc.

I can answer a test, but grading rest in the professor's hands.
I can hunt for a job, but hiring is not my decision.
I can ask my boss for a raise, but he controls the purse strings.
I can invite others to be my friend, but friendship requires their acceptance.
I can ask for a woman's heart, but the relationship is based on her reply.

I'm sobered to think about how much of my daily life is dependent, in part or totally, on the replies of others. We strive so hard to make our lives independent - automated banking, twenty-four hour grocery stores, fast-food, and online shopping. But most major decisions - and many minor ones, are still heavily dependent on other's will: My social life, home purchasing and living arrangements leap to mind.

I'm not sure I like this scheme where God answers my plans through others. I'm not sure at all.

Saturday, June 24, 2006

Quality Roots




So I finally re-potted my big plant (right) yesterday. And I tried to make it reproduce (baby plant, left). The big plant was in the white plastic pot that the baby plant was in. The root to soil ratio was probably 4:1, suggesting that it was long overdue for a re-potting. I'm not quite sure it will survive as I wrecked it's root system to untangle them from a tight ball, although my mom should be proud of me for remembering to break up the roots.

Then baby plant was the tiny offshoot from big plant which I broke off and stuck in some moist soil. I'm not quite sure it will survive other. I'm a bit rusty on my plant biology, but I vaguely recall no roots is very bad for plants. On the other hand, my friends assure me that spider plants are indestructible. So maybe this is a "What happens when the unstoppable force of my ability to kill plants meets the immovable force of spider plants?" question.

Now above is a genuine Yucca plant. These live in the forsaken deserts of New Mexico. They are basically a growing half-sphere of spikes. Unfortunately, the non-sphere portion is the against the ground, which tends to be comprised of granite or other rock. Since spikes are generally considered undesirable in one's lawn, I spent a fair amount of time growing up to rid the lawn of these nuisances.

The simple approach was to take a pick mattock, place a well aimed blow at the point where the Yucca and the ground connected, and sever the spikes from the root. Unfortunately, this approach doesn't work so well because the Yucca has an amazing tap root which goes deep into the ground and will simply regrow. So shortly one simply has a smaller, harder to see protruding ball of spikes. The proper approach was to first sever the ball, then dig/hack/smash about six inches into the rock and take out about six inches of the tap root.

Re-potting my plants has gotten me thinking about the Yucca, and what it means to be deeply rooted. I don't work much with plants, and I tend to forget how tenacious and intertwining root systems are, even interfering with drain pipes.

Friday, June 16, 2006

Spirals: Inward, Downward, Onward

I've recently created a hypothesis: Life is a set of spirals, or at least, self-fulfilling prophecies. Or, in physics terms, an object in motion will continue in motion unless acted upon by another force.

School/Jobs: There's a self-momentum to education. Good grades in high school makes good grades in college easier, which makes good jobs easier.

Friendships: Friendships are rarely static. They tend continue moving closer, moving rapidly apart, or reinforcing the distance that exists. Yes, momentum can shift (and periodically does), but the past is a remarkably good predictor of the future.

Group Efforts: Getting a new group going is an amazingly challenging task. But once the group gets going, it tends to have a culture which is incredibly difficult to change. Eventually the momentum will shift toward decline.

Hurricanes: And tornados. Enough said.

Maybe I'm confusing spirals with entropy: Everything moves toward decay unless energy is put into the system. Or maybe life isn't about spirals. Maybe it is circles.

Saturday, June 10, 2006

X-men, Magicians, Someone

So lately I've been watching reruns of the X-Men cartoons (which, yes, I used to watch in my childhood), as well as having caught the third movie. Fundamentally, I decided recently, the X-men are really sorcerers. There's a thin "genetic" explanation for their mutant powers which might work for a few such as Wolverine or, say, Xavier. But for most mutants, science can't begin to fathom a genetic explanation:

Cyclops: Solar energy is converted into a concentrated laser beam. Now we're pretty good at our energy science, and last I checked, energy is conserved. Remember those solar lamps which if you are lucky and live in a sunny state can absorb energy during the day and power a garden lamp at night? Cyclops' energy intake to expenditure ratio is, well, energy creative.

Iceman: Ice is another one of those very well understood sciences. To make ice, one needs water...and low temperature. Cooling happens to be another very well understood science. And the suggestion that with a little genetic alteration, the human body can act as a Zamboni machine...is well, magic.

Pyro: Manipulating fire is a cool talent. Unfortunately, fire requires fuel (wood, gas, oil) as well as oxygen. So for Pyro to be manipulating fire, he basically needs to be fueling by materializing an unknown fuel to feed the fire. By the time we're at matter creation, we're either at magic or godhood.

Colossus: Do I even want to start with the ability to generate a metal skin from...um...no where?

I'm fascinated, though, by how much the control of the supernatural captivates us. One friend once observed that he thought we have an almost intuitive understanding that there ought be a way to shape reality other than physically - it's almost like we're reaching for a lost ability. Here's a few other thoughts I have:

- We want to be someone chosen. Magicians and mutants are called - often self-called - to a greater purpose, whether for good or evil. They live above the humdrums of every day lives, pursuing deeper, fuller meanings of life that effect everyone around them.

- We want to be special. We don't want just to be chosen randomly, but we want to be someone who is truly one in a billion. We resent the "Remember, you're unique...just like everyone else" sentiment. Magic is reserved for the few, the chosen, the handful.

- We identify with the theme of being outcast because of our specialness. It's not very flattering to have been ostracized because one was a jerk, or just happened to be the weak kid. But to be downtrodden because I am one of the chosen, someone truly unique, with special gifts - to be a martyr of sorts - resonates with us.

I know if those inclinations are all bad. But I do think our tendency to view specialness and chosenness based upon our abilities and position is a psychological minefield for both us and those around us.

Monday, June 05, 2006

Blog? Blog?

So I've been very, very bad about blogging recently. Probably because I've either been stressed and/or dealing with stuff that doesn't blog well. I've also been thinking about 1st Samuel (Bible book) recently, but will restrain myself from actually blogging on it for a few more days.

I was reading a book on money this weekend and it was talking about the idea that our financial decisions fall into two categories: Short-term (taxes, debt payments, giving, life style, and savings), and long-term (investment, major life purchases, charity, children's education, etc.) The author was talking about the idea that the longer term our perspective was, the better our financial decisions were likely to be.

It wasn't terribly revolutionary for me, but the short/long-term breakdown was very helpful. I tend to feel pressured to make too much happen too fast, and it was helpful to see goals broken down into short and long-term. I think I've also been a bit too influenced by the "If you were to die in a year, how would you spend your money/time/life?" questions.

The reality is that if I knew that I'd die in a year, I could afford to do things that I couldn't do if I knew I'd live twenty. I could probably deprive myself of sleep and vacation for a year. For twenty...not such a good idea. I'm realizing that I see the "If you were..." questions are really cool for emphasizing reflection priorities, but not so helpful for actually formulating a plan. It's the same thing with "What if Jesus was coming back next week?"

I also don't like an entirely long-term strategy such as "I'm going to invest my money and when I die, give it and all its interest to my church instead of giving regularly now". I'm not sure that my church could pay it's bills via this stratgy.)

Another point that the book made was about people: Financial planning and wisdom is a means to an end. Financial displine and wisdom is not unique to Christians. What makes Christians unique is the ends toward which they spend their money. Well, what ought to make Christians unique. Statistics are a little frightening about both the ends and means of how Christians actually spend their money.

Sigh. Now I'm thinking of some financial habits I should really change. Time to quit musing deep insights and go apply them.