Tag: compassion

One Moment, Four Eyes

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There is a saying out there in the ether that goes along the lines of ‘no two people experience a moment the same way’. At about ten o’clock this morning I scribbled down ‘narrative confirming events & narratives to mould events’. Unfortunately the precise meaning of that seems to have slipped my mind in the time between but it was undoubtedly wise in one way or another. At this time I had just finished delivering bread having got up to do so about seven hours earlier and after three hours sleep having finished making pizzas late the night before. When people sleep this little, and what appears to be quite regularly these days, they have a habit of being a little grumpy and irrational. This morning was one of those days.

I can’t remember exactly what I meant but I think it had something to do with one of the people I was delivering to asking the annoying “Have you done this?” Have you done that?” despite the fact I always do this and that, and haven’t not once. I gave a pretty straight “Yes, no and I will” but really I wanted to let her know I didn’t appreciate her accusing me of not knowing how to do my relatively easy and straightforward job. Had I not been so tired and grumpy I suspect I wouldn’t have even noticed it as an issue but the mind can play tricks on you when it’s stretched.

This then was one version of an experience. Later as I drove away I mumbled to myself how she was rude and probably an idiot. This is most likely unfair and I suspect this is the case because I attempted to look at it from another perspective. Namely, hers. I remember when I was attempting to make a little sense of the world in my twenties I discovered the concept of compassion. To be able to experience compassion, one technique is to put yourself in the other persons position and view the event through their eyes. Maybe this is giving her an excuse and she was just being rude but perhaps there was a reason she was being so specific and direct with these questions. It is possible the other drivers haven’t always done these things requested but there is every chance she has been told by her boss to make sure of this and that, and she is stressing them to me because she knows she’ll get grief if they’re not done. Whether this is simply me giving her an excuse and letting her off I will never know. Also, she may have not even been that rude and I was just overreacting in my mind. Really though I don’t need to know because it doesn’t matter. The moment I thought that this may be a reason for her attitude my own anger towards her dissipated and I felt what can only be described as compassion. I had let go and the chain of negative emotions had been broken.

This was one moment and those were two ways to experience it. How narratives come into it is arguably less clear but most likely had something to do with allowing the idea that everyone and everything was out to annoy me. This shaped how I felt the situation unfolded and how I viewed it. It could be a good idea to write down a few notes alongside the main note for understanding purposes but one step at a time. I’ve been writing this blog so long and I can count the amount of times I’ve written notes like that on one hand. Still, there was something in there worth writing about I’m sure. I’ll keep my eyes peeled and try to spot a more suitable example for next time.

How To Be Human In The Zombie Apocalypse

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Coronavirus panic seems to have ramped up to zombie apocalypse levels. I have not been able to resist keeping an eye on the latest news updates online and we seem to just be seeing photo’s of empty shelves and pandemonium everywhere. Apparently everyone is being selfish and one Tweet from some politician told of some guy buying the last of the pasta and refusing to share even one with some old lady. This would seem to prove the existence of widespread selfish behaviour, or at least prove examples of it exist and therefore the selfish narrative if you’re attempting to push one. I of course wasn’t there and haven’t been to a big supermarket in about ten days when I went to buy some goats milk butter, I’m so middle class, because they don’t have it in my local shop. Unsurprisingly there had not been a rush on it although I can confirm there wasn’t a great deal of toilet paper left, it does appear people think they can eat it. Seriously though of all the things to rush to buy, the one thing people think they can’t survive without is loo roll? In times of emergency I reckon you’ll get used to Indian style pretty quickly.

But back to this arsehole hoarding the pasta. If true I would love to know the bigger picture. Did he finally give her some? Did someone step in and persuade him to share? Or even force him to share? There are videos online of people fighting over toilet roll, imagine how it’ll be when it’s over the last tin of baked beans. I wonder what I would do in that situation, would I be a coward or would I stand up for the old lady, and would I give up or persevere. I doubt people really know beyond the fantasy of their imagination but I’m sure we all hope we would one way or another have managed to get the old lady her pasta.

Other updates in the ensuing apocalypse are that a raft of rather disagreeable world leaders seem to be getting tested. It’s a tricky one and I wonder how our public sentiments on these issues vary from our inner thoughts. Scumbags like Australian Home Affairs Minister Peter Dutton have tested positive, do we respond joyfully, neutrally or compassionately for him as a human being (supposedly). The Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro tested negative, do we admit to a little disappointment? And then there’s the big one, The Donald has taken his test and will find out in a day or two. We are only human, are we at sainthood levels when we can react equally to everyone in the public eye getting tested? At what point do we just admit our response to hearing Tom Hanks and his wife tested positive was not the same as when we heard Donald Trump is being tested. Does that make us bad? They are still humans, they are still someones mother or father despite how disconnected from any concept of an emotional bond we imagine they have. But we’re also human so we’re fallible. That also means if we want to be excused for our own fallibility we may just have to try understand and excuse theirs. Or just continue being fallible, and proving how human we are.

Saying all of this, it won’t matter anyway soon. We’re all going to be deep in a zombie apocalypse as people prove the fragility of society. Proving they have no sense at all of the so called community they think they’re fighting for with guns or the ballot box. It’s depressing when you realise just how shit people not are but can be. I really hope that old lady got her pasta and whoever reported the moment didn’t just stand there and take a video of it on their phone. To miss the point of ones very own judgemental reporting. Ah to be human.

Change

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This time next week I’ll most likely be standing in a polling booth. We have our general election next Thursday and it is not too unacceptable to be liberal with the superlatives when describing how massive it is and how it has the potential to shape the future in so many different ways. It is probably also an opportune moment to mention I’ll be putting my theoretical belief in anarchism aside, theoretical because I don’t do enough in life to allow it to become practical, and participate in what is probably a momentary denial of the pointlessness of this whole charade.

This election is massive because we are are standing at a t-junction. Neo-liberalism has done it’s proponents well these last forty years as big business and the wealthy have cemented their authority and wealth but theres not much left to ring out of everyone else who has been left behind. We are faced with the choice between turning right at the junction and electing the Conservatives who wish remove us from the European Union, an organisation I’m not necessarily fond of as it represents the tyranny of centrism, but moves us closer to being a tax haven bent over a table with an American dick up our arse. Turning left and following Labour as together we take a step back to a time before a neoliberal agenda sold everything but which probably should be left in the annuls of a grey and failing 1970s. It does however represent an inclusive compassionate agenda which does actually seem to give a shit about the people of the country and not just as tools to retain power and maybe I am being unfair with the 1970s comment as I agree with many of the policies but perhaps it’s time to look forward, readdress our relationship to capital and left wing notions of full employment and actually revolutionise how we live our lives and exist of a daily basis. We need something radical now more than ever. Something is very wrong, we can all see and feel it and it’s one of the reasons people are going and doing extremes like voting for populists and Brexit. People are rightly pissed off and it’s just unfortunate they don’t realise all they’re doing is voting for the wolf that has already bitten off their legs while convincing them it must have been that racist anti-racist sheep who couldn’t possibly be trusted with his own wool and refuses to give up the self-determining shears as he eyes up your starved withering free arm. The choice of continuing the nightmare that has happened or the fear of one that may happen.

That is why this is such a massive election. Much can and will change because centrism doesn’t work, it just makes everything pretty and people have had enough. However, is that enough and are people really ready and willing for the change in themselves that will be required for anything worthwhile to genuinely actualise. It is unfortunate that people have seemingly lost their sense of direction at this most crucial of moments. It is also debatable whether they ever had it in the first place.

Death

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Last night I awoke at about four and was unable to sleep again. Today I’m a bit of a grumpy bastard. I just watched a video of a koala that was badly burnt in the bushfires that are still raging in Australia. It had burns all over it’s body and was screaming in pain, blood on the towel, no fur left. I feel like crying. I’m not normally someone who cries and I don’t say that in a proud way as it would probably be good for me if I did. They had to put the little fella down today because his burns were too bad. This is heartbreaking. Think with all the fires this year that raged through the Amazon, Africa, Siberia and currently Australia how many millions of animals have died. In a way this one little koala is more upsetting because we can relate to it. We can see his pain, we can hear his cries. The rest are nothing more than a number, and numbers don’t really mean anything.

Is it an issue of compassion or empathy. As a species do we lack this ability to connect with animals, and that includes humans by the way. There are numerous arguments that we have become desensitised to suffering and death but I’m not sure how true that is. Computer games and films do display graphic scenes but they’re not real and there is no great clamour to watch actual execution or snuff videos. There is no way to know how people dealt with death in the past but it was more common then, for humans at least. That made it a very real part of peoples lives, and this is something we don’t have anymore, not in the west anyway. I still continue to eat meat but less and it’s starting to feel more and more like a weird thing to do. I love my dog, I raised her from a two month old puppy and feel a connection to her in a way that I don’t have with any other creature, not more or less but it’s unique. When I see the koala suffering, I think of her and it’s that relating which is what connects us. Have you ever tried looking properly into someones eyes, they’re the gateway to their consciousness, nobody can tell me other animals don’t have that. We can put ourselves compassionately in the shoes of another human but with an animal whose consciousness we can’t comprehend we need to find other ways to relate.

When I carve a roast chicken sometimes I think it looks like my dog. I ignore the thoughts but it freaks me out none the less. I don’t want to eat chicken anymore. Many people the world over have pets and as I’ve never expressed this reaction to chicken before I’m unsure if others have it too. How do they disconnect and detach themselves from the fact they’re carving an animal when they have another one sitting curled up sleeping in the corner that they love so much. Is it hypocritical, more behaving unconsciously I imagine. Perhaps people just don’t think like that, they just carve the chicken and see it for the chicken, not what it represents. It does represent something though, it represents existence. Until we start to understand this all it does is put in jeopardy all existence, ourselves included.