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Ideas Above Our Station
new collection of shorts, one of which was written by me,
http://www.route-online.com/routev7/page.asp?idno=292

Nine Stop Trip
even newer collection of shorts, all of which were written by me,
http://chipmunkapublishing.co.uk/shop/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=65

Still off work, still feeling shitty, but the fever's broken and I'm feeling strong enough to be irritated by my lack of energy.

Been thinking recently about a big assumption on which we've chosen to base our society, namely that things are always getting better.

The present is always better than the past and the future will be better than the present.

This is of course closely tied to the development of technology as shown by our blind faith that more, newer technology is always better and can solve everything for us.

Before our obsession with contemporary technology however this same assumption reared its head in other ways.

Most of the big organised religions have at their heart, albeit twisted almost beyond recognition to their own ends, the story of how a funny walking ape became a human.

Whether it's the Judeo-Christian story of Adam & Eve taking the apple or the Buddhist story of the monkey stealing the peach, somehow we as a race passed the story of our birth on verbally until written language appeared and it could be recorded.

Most of the power structure religions also interpret this tale in a similar way, namely that our new thinking aspect is utterly superior, (or holy as they'd like to call it,) to the ignorant beast aspect of before.

Newer is always better than old therefore considered thought should always override primal instinct.

Now before you poor polarised peeps out there start getting all hot under the collar let's just establish that I'm not then suggesting that the opposite must be true.

What I am increasingly coming to think, is that there just shouldn't be a hierarchy, that both these aspects have great strengths and weaknesses and that if we want to make the most of them we have to choose when to rely on each.

So here're three examples of such a conflict:

Firstly, a few weeks back I was talking to a guy at work who served in the first gulf war(1) and he told me that when they thought they might be in danger from chemical weapons they had to sleep in protective suits complete with gasmasks etc.

A guy then had to sit in each tent all night with one job: to grab hold of people and sit on them if they woke up.

Why? Because the first reaction, even of highly trained, disciplined and accomplished soldiers, when waking up in a gas mask is to rip it off and take a lung full of 'fresh air'.

Now clearly, under such circumstances, this instinct could get you killed. I thought I knew vaguely how that might feel from my own experience of scuba diving.

The first dive I did was fantastic but did feature about a second and a half of abject panic. Just as I got to the bottom I looked up and saw the ten meters of ocean sat on top of me.

Just for a moment everything in me was screaming to rip the gear off and get to the surface as quick as I could. Of course considered thought then took over and instead of drowning I had a really good time.

Secondly, depression. Really been kicking my arse of late, and to be brutally honest it's only an abject lack of energy that's kept me from doing something 'stupid'.(2)

My favourite metaphor for this kind of situation involves holding your hand over a lit match.

Considered thought tells you that the match will quickly burn out and so the pain will stop, or at least lessen significantly, very soon.

Beastly instinct however, screams at you to remove your hand and will even do it for you if you're not careful.

(Just to spell things out, in this instance, removing the hand from the flame = removing yourself from the world, ie. suicide.)

The big D has a wide selection of hooks to get in you, like a perpetual loop about how you girlfriend couldn't care less whether you lived or died, or a relentless, infinite cringing over some past faux pa or even the absolute conviction that you have a serious illness.

The 'trick' if you like, is to recognise them as irrational, as symptoms of the depression and not make decisions based on them.

Instead you have to trust in considered thought that if you grit your teeth and ride out the agony the match will burn out.

Again, forcing yourself to go against your beastly instinct keeps you alive.

It's worth noting that the irrationality of those thoughts doesn't necessarily mean they're not accurate, (I do believe the first of the three examples I gave to be true,) their irrational nature can simply blow them out of proportion.

Finally, this all seems to be going one way doesn't it? Well here's some counterbalance.

Had my big job interview on Monday, got the call yesterday, didn't get it, big shock.

I coughed and spluttered through the interview, kept forgetting what I was saying, the whole thing was a phlegmy mess basically.

Turns out however that it came down to a photo finish between myself and one other candidate. My written test was the best but they did better in the interview.

If I'd been on form I'd have pissed all over it.

What's this go to do with anything? Well besides me just being a bit pissed off about it the point is that impressing people at job interviews is all about enthusiasm, convincing them not only that you can do the job but, more importantly, that you want to.

Clearly I managed to do this, the thing I don't want a job, not that one, not any one.

(I don't consider writing to be a job, it's just something I am regularly compelled to do to release the pressure in my brain.)

How many of us do things every day that make us miserable? We follow considered thought and ignore beastly instinct to chase the things we don't want and neglect those we do.

The assumption is that it's always best to follow new considered thought because beastly instinct is outdated and ignorant, useless to us in today's modern world.

Beastly instinct however, if we can hold our noses and have a good look, got us a hell of a long way before considered thought came on the scene.

Fair enough in our first example we're right not to listen, though it does give us an essential reminder as to the risks we're taking.

The second example is, I feel, actually a halfway state. Fine, maybe the solutions my gut suggests, disappearing or dying, are not the most constructive, but it's telling me that things are not ok, that something needs to change or I will eventually break.

The third example is pretty much the same thing I guess, only in a much more insidious, calmer, everyday way.

Considered thought is an incredibly powerful tool but one that, if not understood and used with care, can blind the user into accepting a life of pain and disappointment that beastly instinct would never have allowed for a moment.

So are you a brain or a beast?

I'm sure we're both but can't deny it's damn hard line to walk.

footnote

(1) although that's a useful term to communicate where and when I'm talking about it does rather suggest that we stopped being at war with the Iraqi people before 2003 which, sickened to say, just isn't true, we've been killing them and their kids in one way or another ever since,

(2) the definition of 'stupid' in this context is entirely relative I assure you, ie. you think it is, I don't,