Searching for the meaning of life

I took a life

2010-07-13T05:08:00.000-07:00

I took a life. I watched the energy drain from a living thing until it stopped moving, stopped being and was gone. I am not proud. I don't want to do it again. Before I did it I cried and suggested that we set the creature free, but my boyfriend told me that he was not made of lobster money and that we had to get over our desire to introduce to the wild the lobster that he had chosen from a tank at our local asian market, put him in a pot and steam him for 30 minutes with ginger and baby spring onions.

A chef had suggested that we put the crawling, clawing bottom dweller into a steamer and wait, but we wanted to get it over with quickly, to minimise the pain the creature would feel. The difficulty was that, as we watched our little clawed friend try to lift the stopper on our kitchen sink, I was sorely tempted to give him a name - such a feisty little creature should surely have a name. Only, if you name you dinner, it can be very hard to consume it later. So we decided not to deepen our bond with our crustacean and instead, debated who would put him in the pot.

I must admit that I felt my eyes well up as we discussed how we would cook the lobster, who was then lifting himself up on his claws and scratching around the sink. Eventually, I agreed to be the one to lift our little friend into his last resting place, but when it came to it I couldn't do it and instead held the lid of the pot open, and then closed as the lobster shook in shock when he came in contact with the bubbling water. I had imagined that he would die quickly, but it was a lengthy process. It was awful. Our lobster shook and rattled in the heat and I desperately wanted to free him, only by then it would have been too late, he had already turned the colour of deepest sunburn.

I must admit that our dinner was delicious. Once the lobster was cooked, I had no problems with eating his meat. However, even as we were falling asleep last night, my boyfriend and I expressed our horror at the cruelty of the process.

It is one thing to eat a piece of fish or chicken that is already dead, but the emotional impact of watching it slow and then freeze once the body has been emptied of all life energy is powerful. I'm not sure that I will ever eat lobster again. It's too traumatic to cook a creature that you are tempted to christen and release to the sea.

Sun worship

2010-07-09T06:01:00.000-07:00

We have been sun worshippers since we got here. The Egyptians worshipped the sun and thought that it sailed across the sky on a huge solar barge. Hinduism is choc-packed full of solar dieties. In Chinese mythology, there were originally ten suns in the sky, who were brothers. When they played together in the sky the earth became too hot and so, a hero came and shot down nine of them, leaving just the one sun that we know today. Buddhists recognise a boddhisattva of the sun, who is called Ri Gong Ri Guang. The Aztecs considered the sun god Tonatiuh to be the leader of heaven. They believed that this god represented the fifth cosmic era and that the previous four suns had represented four cosmic eras that had ended. In Indonesia, the sun is sometimes considered to be the 'father' or 'founder' of the tribe. The sun plays an important part in many Indonesian initiation rites.

It is no wonder that we have been so long infatuated by the most dominant star in our skies. The sun's energy is the principal driver of our weather systems and it effects both living and non-living things, in that it feeds the living things and its energies are often stored in non-living things such as peat and coal, to be released later.

Until recently, western society worshipped the sun as a fountain of beauty. Today, many people fear the sun's rays and think of it as a harmful and damaging force. Like almost all things, balance should be the governing force in our relationship with sunshine - too much will not only make us look old and haggard, it might actually make us very sick or even kill us. Likewise, too little sun can result in vitamin D deficiency, which is associated with rickets, auto-immune problems and depression.

From my own point of view I can report that feeling the sun play on my skin improves my mood no end and looking upon a clear skied day never fails to lift my mood. I've traveled across the globe chasing summer from country to country, at considerable cost - every penny of which was worth the expense.

I might scoff at the belief systems of ancient Egyptians and label these to be irrational and ill informed, but the reality is that when it comes to sun worship, I am up there with the best of them. We're creatures of sunlight and we thrive best when dosed liberally and regularly in its kindest rays. Our obsession with the sun is more than an irrational belief system, it's a matter of survival and for that reason, I believe that our relationship with the sun can only become more complex and important as time goes on, rather than less so.

Redirecting my energies

2010-07-06T05:34:00.000-07:00

It's time that I turned my energies to energy, that life effusing driver of existence. Our presence here, although fascinating from a philosophical and moral point of view, is based on fuel. We each operate like furnaces, calling for fuel, burning this up and using the raw energy created to pump our bodies and achieve work.

I used a calorie calculator to find out how many calories I should consume every day. Apparently, I require 1990 calories to fuel my body. I burn this up by walking, talking, thinking and even while I sleep. If I don't eat I feel hungry and eventually I will feel weak. In addition to food, I crave other kinds of energy, including external warmth and sunlight.

One of man's greatest discoveries was the ability to make fire on cue. Still today, many of us feel ourselves drawn towards flickering flames and few homes feel complete without the focus of a warm hearth (rather than a television).

I suspect that we search for meaning only after we have successfully found the energy sources that we require to survive. It is only when we have been well fed and warmed that we can turn inwards and focus on our own personal energies.

We give off energy as well as consuming it. If you touch a person's skin it usually feels warm. If you stand next to someone when they are angry you can feel their 'vibrations'. Likewise, being around someone who is very grounded and calm can be calming in itself. And when we have used up all our energies, we go cold and cannot communicate with others, we literally have nothing more to give.

What follows over the next week, or few weeks (depending on what other random thoughts pique my interest) will be a series of blogs that discuss energy in its many forms. You will have to excuse me if things get a little hippified - I recently returned to yoga classes (another to-do successfully underway) and I'm definitely feeling the chilled out energies of practising this exercise for mind, body and soul.

So onwards, into the realm of fuel for life: food, warmth and social sustenance.

Will we ever be happy enough?

2010-06-29T05:50:00.000-07:00

I've had a very lovely life, I've been very lucky. I've been happier more often I've been unhappy and I've experienced greater joy than misery. But will this bank of happiness see me through? Will I ever get to a point when I have experienced sufficient joy that no matter what happens, my overall life satisfaction will be unaltered?

Personally, I look forward. I think always of the future and I like to plan my future joy, but expect it to come spontaneously when it finally arrives. Much of my happiness is based on my expectation of the future. So, although I can remind myself of plenty of happy times and do not carry around with me a bundle of worries built high by past events, I suspect that I will never be satisfied. It seems that it's not what I've had, but what I might experience in the future that keeps me smiling (or scares me).

Perhaps when I am very old and believe myself to have reached the final stage of the race, a point at which there is no further piece of the puzzle to fit together, maybe then I will turn my mind backwards and all the happy days that I've enjoyed to date will start to stand to me.

For now, I simply try to remember to be grateful and to recognise that I've had an easy ride, which is rare in this fragmented age.

I have been lucky enough to discover some of the things that do make me happy. If you never experience joy, how do you know what fills you with that bubbly, smiling feeling?

Now, if only I could create some co-herant plan to ensure future happiness, I wouldn't have to worry about what's coming and could enjoy the days that's here right now. How fickle we are, even the people who acknowledge that they've been lucky (me), fear that their luck will run out.

Puppy power

2010-06-14T05:34:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is my boyfriend's birthday. He's hoping for a puppy. He is hoping for a puppy in the way that a six year old hopes and yearns and pleads for a puppy. He believes that owning and caring for this pet will complete him.

Research suggests that few events actually change our level of happiness. A systematic study of 22 people who had won the lottery, found that they returned to their baseline levels of happiness over time and wound up experiencing the same level of happiness as 22 ordinary Joes who had never had their numbers called up.

So, money does not buy happiness? It would seem that neither do unfortunate events necessarily lead to unhappiness. A study quoted in the same book as that which discussed our unmoved millionaires, found that within a few years, paraplegics are only just a little less happy than their able-bodies peers.

Will a puppy make my boyfriend any happier? Despite the findings of the studies cited above, I suspect that it might.

In May of this year Coca-Cola announced the results of their global happiness barometer. In this age of Facebook and Twitter, text messages and blogging, Coca-Cola found that the one thing that could be definitively linked to greater happiness was human contact. Let's face it, we're meant for each other. We're suckers for a good hug.

I agree that human contact and animal contact are not quite the same, but the spirit is similar. I suspect that my boyfriend would take joy from the relationship that one man has with his dog. He wants to walk along the strand with his dog, silent but together as they enjoy the fresh air and exercise. He wants to play and jump around with his dog. Most of all, he wants to come home from work to see in the face of his furry friend, the pure, animal excitement that his arrival has induced.

Personal relationships, even when with animals, make us feel valued and valuable. It's great to be valued but it's even better to be valuable.

Several years ago, a British study attempted to increase the happiness quotient of one English town. A key recommendations made by the leaders of the study was that we should all keep plants. Apparently, feeling necessary is one of the key elements in the maintainence of a positive outlook. The logic is that if someone or something needs you (even if this something is a small and dropping fern), your life will be invested with the special shred of meaning that is necessary to warm the heart.

So, if I gave my boyfriend a puppy he might develop a bond with the animal and also, feel that that animal needs him, his care and his love. This would probably make him feel even more satisfied with his lot in life than he currently does.

Sadly, we live in a one-bedroom apartment and I suspect that the puppy's happiness would dive very quickly after realising that the entire area around which he could roam would fit into most people's front hall. Until we have space and time to look after this little creature, I would not feel right risking its wellbeing by keeping it in our cramped home. Next year looks more likely for pet ownership, but tomorrow I'm going to have to deal with a very disappointed man-child.

Thankfully, research suggests that he will quickly get over this and his happiness will soon return to normal levels.

Where does happiness come from?

2010-06-10T05:24:00.000-07:00

Happiness is a complicated beast. The range of this emotion stretches from satisfaction, through pleasure and joy to the outer reaches of maddest euphoria.

The complicated nature of the emotion that makes us smile means that it is difficult to measure and to explain. Despite having enjoyed a lifetime during which I have been happier more often than not, I have more questions than answers about the nature of or source of happiness.

For a start, where does it come from and then, how does our brain distinguish between positive and negative situations - how do we know when to feel happy?

According to the people who know about this kind of thing, serotonin is the chemical that helps to maintain a happy feeling. This chemical helps us to sleep, it calms anxiety and it relieves depression. However, dopamine makes us seem happy because its presence in our brain makes us talkative and excitable.

Have you ever noticed that everyone seems to be in better form during summer time? We feel better during summer months because sun and bright light trigger a response in the brain to a hormone known as melatonin. Research suggests that two hours of morning light is an effective treatment for depression, so get out there and enjoy the early hours.

There is no denying the fact that some people are happier than others. The researcher, David T Lykken, studied the wellbeing of twins and found that happiness depends in a large part, upon one's genes. Only 10-15% of our happiness is determined by life circumstances variables such as socioeconomic status, marital status, health and sex. Researchers believe that the remaining 40% is influenced by a combination of factors and results of actions that a person takes in order to become happier.

This is fantastic news and means that we can determine our own happiness. Knowing how to go about doing this is not an easy task...

Consistently, human relationships comes out as the top factor in human happiness. A 2009 study that was published in the British Medical Journal reported that happiness can actually spread through social networks from person to person. Generally, happiness spreads fastest and best through friends, siblings, spouses and next-door neighbours and it spreads more effectively than unhappiness, which means that if enough of us spread our happiness, we could effect some sort of emotional revolution...

One to do done

2010-06-07T05:51:00.000-07:00

I can finally cross one 'to do' off my 'to do list'. My balcony is awash with colour. My wonderful mother took a trip to the garden centre and came back with pot loads of summer flowers, which she gave to me and that I have planted in window boxes and ceramic posts. As I look outside, through the summer rain, I am made infinitely happy by the sight of my begonias, butterfly lavender and daisies bouncing in the breeze.

Some people don't 'do' gardening and don't see the point. The arrangement of plants together in pretty groups doesn't 'do' anything particular that should make our lives any better, and yet, in my case, I find that it does make my life a happier one. It is not what the plants do, so much as what they are that makes me happy. My plants don't provide me with any sustenance, they won't make me any wealthier and I have sufficient fresh air that their ability to exchange gases is of little concern to me, yet by being pretty and by conjuring images of summer meadows, lazy afternoons and sunshine, they make my life that little brighter. Plus, they need me and it is always satisfying to be required.

In my experience, happiness is not always logical, but illogical joy is often perfectly sensible and a good indication of sanity.

I like to think that what separates us from the animals is our ability to appreciate beauty, but this is probably a romantic notion with little basis in truth. Who am I to say that a gorilla does not appreciate the sight of the morning mist rising from the foothills of a Rwandan mountain?

Whether it is a human characteristic or not, it seems that it is in our nature to take satisfaction from beautiful paintings, well designed buildings and sweeping views across long valleys, amongst other eye-pleasers.

Functionality is all very well, calculated reasoning is vital, but a splash of colour from a bursting window box can warm the heart, and life with a cold heart offers little to live for. It is immensely satisfying to work out a difficult problem and to perform a job that I feel means something, but sometimes all I want to do is sit on a chair on my balcony, surrounded by purple flowers, swatting the bees away with my Sunday paper.

Measuring happiness

2010-05-25T05:37:00.000-07:00

What really makes us happy? The results of the annual Harris Poll Happiness Index, released last week, indicate that 80% of (American) respondents are satisfied with their lot. This despite the fact that 72% of them feel that their views were not heard at the seat of power and that 66% report that they frequently worry about their financial situation.

Interesting data from the Poll includes the findings that women are generally more happy than men (and married women are happier than their singleton friends), people seem to become increasingly happy as they age and the lucky individuals who earn over $75,000 are significantly happier than those who earn under $35,000. Maybe money can buy a certain amount of happiness - or peace of mind - after all.

Comparison of this year's Poll Index with that of the past two years indicates that White Americans are less happy than they were three years ago, while Hispanics and African-Americans have become happier, and the happiness levels of both of these ethnic groups have surged to surpass the contentment levels of White Americans.

In what might seem to some to be a surprising result, disabled people polled as being marginally more happy than those who do not have a disability.

One finding that I find particularly interesting is that, serious talkers, who talk frequently about topics such as politics, education and the economy are much happier than those who talk about 'light topics' frequently. Generally, talking seems either to indicate happiness, or to keep us smiling; the silent types clocked up far less happiness than their chatty counterparts and the index of their happiness came in far lower down the scale than that of the average adult.

So, if you truly want to experience happiness your best bet is to be a well-paid, married, black female in the autumn of your life, who enjoys a regular debate about health care reform, or the state of the nation.

And what about the rest of us?

You can't do much about your age, gender or ethnicity. You can't necessarily alter how much money you make. You can become more engaged in your society and you can get involved in serious discussion about the larger issues.

So, get out there, get informed and get talking!

Happiness at the click of a mouse

2010-05-19T05:36:00.000-07:00

Access to technology can be linked with positive emotions, according to a recent study by BCS, the Chartered Institute for IT. We might like to reminisce about just how happy we felt when we first cradled in our hands our new iPhone, or how devastated we were when our computer crashed while we were performing an important operation, but overall, do we feel happier or more stressed by the gadgets, gizmos and metatags that have become a part of our daily lives? Not one to make idle speculation, before coming to its own conclusions regarding technology and satisfaction, BCS took into account the views of 35,000 people around the world.

It found that women in developing nations and people of both sexes who had low levels of education or low incomes were particularly influenced by their access to technology.

Certainly, technology helps up to connect with friends and family who have spread themselves across great distances and this may be the reason why women, the cogs at the centre of most families, particularly value access to technology.

However, many researchers disagree that technology makes us any happier, including Yair Amichai-Hamburger, director for Internet Psychology at the Sammy Ofer School of Communications in Israel, who argued in an article in New Scientist (December 2009) that technology often acts as a barrier to real-world friendships and blurs the important distinctions between work and leisure time.

Like many things in life, balance appears to be the key to enjoying technology. A little is fantastic, but overindulgence (often manifest in addiction to the Internet) can mean that other areas of our lives suffer.

So is the iPad the answer to eternal happiness? I can't help but think that there is no one universal recipe for happiness, but perhaps a recipe for 'happiness in our times', that many of us could use as a base, upon which to build our own happiness soup.

It seems that as humans, we need to feel connected to one another. We require friendships, personal contact and love to grow in a positive manner. In recent times, western society has become fragmented and technology has stepped into the space created to fill the void with Facebook friends, text messages and blogs. These interactions are better than none at all and the nature of friendships that are supported by technology is such that those friendships can form and grow across great distances and time zones. This means that your Facebook friend might not be able to reach out and give you a hug, but you and they may share interests and ideas, that no one in your local area shares with you.

The argument as to whether technology is friend or foe to our collective happiness must take into account our human desire to be included in our society. Western society is a society that relies upon and revels in its technology and should one not have access to it, exclusion would certainly feel like a loss, if not a social disability. I can't comment on the situation in other cultures, but I would imagine that as technology becomes more pervasive, exclusion from its use becomes a greater issue.

The BCS study suggests that one of the reasons why technology makes people happy is the status that it affords them. Since Adam and Eve first enjoyed a wickedly delicious taste of indulgence, people have derived a certain degree of pride and contentment from displaying status symbols . Whether that status comes from owning the largest herd of cattle; driving the streets in a brand new sports car; or whipping out our brand new gadget to show salivating friends, our enjoyment comes from proving to friends that we are somebody, that we're in the know and that our personal capital is valuable.

All of this said, I don't believe that having access to technology alone will make a life meaningful. Technology is an instrument that allows us to perform certain tasks. What we do with technology and how we do it must be the source of any real meaning.

Learn to be happy and you'll be healthy

2010-05-14T05:22:00.000-07:00

I've been dancing around it for a long time but today I'm going to come out and say it: most of us, when we search for the meaning of life, are really searching for the secret to happiness. I've tried not to fall into this trap and, although I think that an unhappy life is not necessarily a life that is devoid of meaning, my inclination when I research philosophy, history, contemporary news stories and when I make observations about my own life, is to presume that happiness is indicative of successful living.

I'm sure that many immoral and cruel individuals experience a certain degree of happiness and I would hate to suggest that their brand of living is a successful model that the rest of us should follow. This said, in the case of most not-totally-insane individuals, personal happiness is usually a sign of a life well lived and a rosey outlook.

Happiness seems to be the secret to successful living, not only for its own ends, but due to the health benefits that accrue when one feels happy. Quite simple, happiness helps us to thrive, both mentally and physically.

Positive psychology is a branch of psychology that focuses upon the origin and impact of positive emotions. Some positive psychologists argue that happiness is an emotion that leads to better learning and it has been linked, in numerous studies, with reduced incidence of stress and heart disease. Researcher Barbara Fredrickson, in an article called 'The undoing effect of positive emotions' hypothesises that positive emotions help a person to return to their normal physiological levels after a period of intense stress.

In the general sense, positive emotions seem to have numerous benefits for human health. People who believe that they can positively influence situations experience lower stress levels, improved immune systems, reduced pain and are in a better position to overcome addiction and dependency than are those who believe that their suffering is outside of their control.

Based on their research, positive psychologists have developed techniques to improve the life experiences of those with perfect mental health, as well as people suffering with depression and other mental illnesses. Such is the evidence to support positive psychology and optimism that these techniques are used by life coaches, HR professionals, psychologists, therapists and counsellors to help people to thrive.

The eminent psychologist, Martin Seligman teaches what he calls 'learned optimism' and finds that those who have been taught to deal with situations in such a way as to reduce negative emotions, experience less stress and are generally more successful in study and work situations.

Seligman's method of teaching optimism is simple. He asks 'students' to understand how and why they react in certain ways to adversity, to analyse the basis for their assumption and then to dispute it in their own minds. In this manner people learn to react differently when faced with challenges and research has shown that after having learnt optimism, individuals experience less anxiety and less stress.

Given the evidence to support happiness, I've chosen this lovely subject as the focus of the next few of my blogs. I can't think of a single reason why happiness might not be the meaning of life and I challenge anyone to suggest why learning to be happy and tending one's mental health and attitudes might not be as vital as is looking after one's general health.

War torn

2010-05-10T05:25:00.000-07:00

Last night, I watched a movie called Black Hawk Down, with which I am sure that many of you are familiar. It is a harrowing tale of horrors and terrors the like of which I hope that I will never witness and is based on events that occurred in Mogadishu, Somalia when US soldiers found themselves surrounded by militia forces and badly equipped to defend themselves.

I am finding it more and more difficult to watch graphic war movies, I don't know why. Before I could separate what I saw on screen from the reality that soldiers today experience, but these days, when Hollywood takes me on a trip into the battlefields, I can't seem to stop thinking about those men and women who are far flung and daily in danger. When others might cheer the explosions on screen, I find myself on the verge of tears.

Throughout history we have battered and butchered each other in our battles over land, money, women and ultimately, power. Small men with large egos have commanded the weaker and worthier to march into blood baths on a whim. Others have fought for freedom and for the pursuit of their ideals. Whether the ends were petty or vital, the violence and the horror were the same. There is no getting away from it, we are cruel beasts when we get going.

World War II was the deadliest conflict of all time (to date). Over 60 million people were killed during this truly global conflict.

World War I was essentially a European war. Children as young as 14 entered the trenches and fought as men. Initially, many thought of this war in a romantic sense, believing that they would be tested and have the opportunity to show their valour. They died in their thousands, moan down by gunfire, gassed and starved and frozen.

The Vietnam war has been the dominant conflict in the American consciousness for over 40 years. It was a horrific waste of human life that rocked East Asia even more than it did the United States. The number of military deaths between 1959 and 1975 is widely debated and the final figure depends on how the count is made, for example some figures include the South Vietnames forces killed in the final campaign, others do not. In 1995, the Vietnamese government reported that its military forces, inluding NLF, suffered 1.1 million military deaths and 2 million civilian casualties.

Icasualties.org reports the tally of deaths from 2003-2010 amongst the Iraq coalition (US, UK and other) at 4715. For Afghanistan, icasualties.com totals the number of dead at 1759.

Closer to home, between 1969 and 2001, 3,526 people were killed as a result of the Northern Irish troubles, according to the Sutton Index of Deaths.

These are just numbers and these numbers apply only to those who were killed; many more were injured or suffered mental breakdowns in the aftermath of their experiences.

War is everything counter to life's meaning. It destroys life quite literally and by quashing the spirit of otherwise perfectly good men and women.

It frustrates me when I see the leaders of our cruelest conflicts portrayed on screen as being inhuman monsters. Cruelty is part of our make up, it is all we can do to keep it at bay. In terrible circumstances we would probably all surprise ourselves by what we are capable of. Some people are capable of extremes even when they do not need to rely on such methods for survival.

If there is one very simple lesson that we should learn, but don't seem capable of listening to, it must be this: be peaceful.

Love is the drug

2010-04-23T05:17:00.000-07:00

There are many different kinds of love and love is very difficult to define - most of us know it when we feel it, but ask anyone to break love down into its constituent parts and they will likely falter. Romantic love is one of the most exciting manifestations of the love effect.

The anthropologist Helen Fisher and her assistants studied 49 men and women's physical reaction to love and loss. They put each individual into a brain scanner and showed that love is the product of a chemical reaction in the brain. Fisher found that love 'lights up' an area of the brain that is similarly affected when people take cocaine. Certainly, love is one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful emotion that people feel.

In her book, 'Why we love' Fisher discusses the results of her studies of the brains of 17 people who had just fallen in love, 15 people who had just been rejected and 17 people who were still in love after 20 years of marriage. She traces the origin of love and the evolution of love, from the first love poem, which dates from Sumeria over 4,000 years ago, to the present day. Her theory is that romantic love is a primal emotion that exists in order to promote procreation and the survival of the human race.

However, other researchers contend that while sexual relationships have (obviously) happened since complex life existed, romance is a new fangled idea that only came into being in recent centuries. These researchers claim that for a long period, humans did not experience any form of romantic love. Clearly, these researchers have not yet delved into the poetry of ancient Sumeria.

The term 'romance' is certainly not as old as romantic love itself. The term originated from the medieval ideal of chivalry, which was described in romance literature. This literature was based largely upon tales of the adventures of the elite classes and love had little to do with this 'romance' until the late 17th century.

So, today, what do we mean when we seek romance? Candle-light dinners can be lovely, but why does a heart drawn in the sand bring a smile to someone's face? I believe that most of us seek reassurance that our feelings of strong emotion for someone are returned. Grand gestures and thoughtful touches demonstrate clearly that someone cares about us and when we know that someone shares our feelings, we are more confident in demonstrating our own love.

One of the greatest challenges is that of keeping romance alive after the first flutter of sexual attraction has passed. I doubt that there is any full-proof way to keep the embers of romantic love burning, but from what I have observed, I note that the couples who seem happiest after many years together are those who laugh together and work towards common goals, while maintaining a certain independence through their own particular hobbies or interests. My theory is that romance doesn't always come naturally and that you've got to help it along from time to time. Thankfully, the odd weekend away, candlelit dinner and thoughtful gift seem to go a long way towards rekindling the fires. And sometimes the most romantic moments are those that only you and your partner understand, when you share something that means a lot to both of you, but which no one else might appreciate.

Finally, a word of advice from the not particularly wise to those whose fire has almost burnt out: if in doubt, bring flowers (unless your beloved suffers with hay fever that is, in which case arm yourself with anti-hystemines before suggesting any romantic picnics, or long walks in the country. On second thoughts, stick to chocolates and the sea-side and save your loved-one from sneezes and streaming eyes; there's nothing romantic about feeling like a snivelling wreck!).

Down with stress

2010-04-20T05:19:00.000-07:00

Quite some time ago, while discussing philosophy and the meaning of life I wrote that this search would not involve mathematics. There is something else that I would like to exclude from this compendium of all things meaningful and that is stress.

Yesterday, I met with a woman who exuded stress the way some people exude confidence. It coloured her every word and movement to the degree that I began to sniff the air for the stench of it.

Stress is one of the most poisonous by-products of modern existence. With all our labour saving devices and life-extending medical treatments, rarely have so many suffered from such a degree of tension since hunting and gathering times.

We obsess about the consumption of carcinogenic foods and have banished smokers from sight in order to diminish our risk of contracting cancer but we accept without question a degree of stress that causes high blood pressure, cancer, skin disorders, ruined relationships and countless disturbed nights of sleep, or lack thereof.

Here are the things that I do to reduce stress:

- jogging is my number one stress busting activity, a good run along the beach near my house seems to melt away tension and make the world seem like a much more pleasant place than it was when I first put trainer to ground.

- sitting in the sun is another wonderful way to relieve stress. It is amazing how the warm rays of the sun cause my shoulders to drop, my face to relax and my mood to lift considerably.

- cooking tomato sauce has always helped me to blend away the day. Maybe this is a cure that is particular to me, but I have always found it enormously therapeutic to stand over a hot pot of sauce, stirring and watching, with little worry that I will ruin the dinner if I drift off into thought for several minutes while I cook.

- there's nothing quite like the talking cure and women are great at this. We talk ourselves into circles and then out of them again.

- sleeping for 10 hours on the trot has an unbelievable (literally, I did not believe that sleep alone would have the effect that it did - try it, it's wonderful) de-stressing effect. I never feel quite so calm, collected and in control as I do when I sleep for 10 hours. Of course, having the time to sleep for half the day is quite a luxury and one of the reasons why, although being unemployed can be enormously stressful, I felt energised throughout much of the time that I was free of the 9-5.

And now that my lunch break is drawing to a close, I must dash outside to take a few gasps of fresh air before I plough on, full speed ahead towards 5.30 and the light at the end of the stress tunnel.

Ash Friday

2010-04-16T05:19:00.001-07:00

Seemingly pre-historic events have invaded our post-post-modern airspace. Ice chunks tumbled from a volcano beneath Iceland's Eyjafjallajokull (ay-yah-FHAH'-plah-yer-kuh-duhl) glacier on Thursday, as hot gases melted the ice. The ash cloud that formed subsequently has grounded flights across Europe.

We are at the whim of the flow and flux of molten metals and sheets of rock. How strange it seems that in this advanced, technological age our high flying plans can be curtailed by something so basic and unpreventable as the lumbering movements of mother earth's belly.

How easy it is to forget that no matter how many life-enhancing super drugs or super computers we invent, our lives here are unstable at best. We may be the most advanced lifeforms on the planet, but the simple truth is that we're no match for that planet, when it flexes its muscles we crumble and bow down before its might.

Why ever we thought that we could become masters of the universe I cannot understand. Why we abused this planet for so long and celebrated our ability to do so, I cannot even begin to fathom. Human life on earth may eventually be brought to an end by the eruption of a super-volcano, or by a meteor that smashes into the surface of the earth, alternatively we may overheat our planet or starve to death due to man-made environmental degradation. It is humbling to know that there are forces more powerful than armies, nuclear bombs and withering looks. I think that it is also useful to be reminded from time to time that the planet is powerful, the planet will out live us by a long way, we're just passengers here and we should respect this position.

That sunshine feeling

2010-04-12T05:34:00.001-07:00

The sun has certainly had its hat on for the past few days and Dublin has been infused with an atmosphere of celebration. We enjoy so few sunny days in Ireland that when the clouds break for a day or two, most people make a dash into the outdoors in order to soak up all the sunshine that they can.

There's something wonderful about the play of sunshine on the skin and the feeling of light in one's eyes that brings a smile to one's face. This weekend, it felt as if the recession had loosened its grip on the country and people were thrilled to sit in the parks, play on the beaches and exercise outdoors.

I've been thinking about sunshine this morning. This is partly due to the continuing good weather but also due to the fact that I've spent most of my morning writing an article about Vanuatu. Several years ago Vanuatu topped the polls to be named the happiest place on earth. The collective contentment of its citizens is attributed to a variety of characteristics of life on Vanuatu. For one, many people who live on this archipelago of volcanic islands are self sufficient and no-one goes hungry thanks to the fertile soil and abundance of fruit and vegetables. Secondly, life on Vanuatu is about as far removed from a consumer society as one can imagine. The spoils of economic life are not favoured as much stability, family and relaxation. This is not to say that people are lazy, but rather that they take more joy from spending time with family and friends than they do from buying the latest gadget or purchasing expensive clothes or accommodation.

And then there's the sunshine factor...

Vanuatu is located in a sub-tropical region of the south pacific. The sun shines for nine glorious months of every year and no one lives more than a few minutes from a beach.

There can be no denying it, sunshine makes us happy. Maybe it's the vitamin D, possibly it's the fact that sunlight makes the world look clearer and more beautiful but, whatever causes it, when the sun smiles upon us and we enjoy it in small doses, we usually end up smiling too.

This morning I've begun my article by suggesting that Vanuatu is a location where someone could find happiness. I certainly enjoyed my visit there last year but today, in usually grey Dublin, when the skies are blue and the air warm, this seems like as perfect a location as almost any.

If the meaning of life is to find happiness, a good blast of sunshine is likely to bring us closer to finding that meaning. Sometimes the answers are more simple than the questions and in this case it seems to be the case. Looking for the meaning of life? Just step outdoors.

The rules of attraction

2010-04-08T05:34:00.001-07:00

After yesterday's posting about the power of fleeting glances and lingering looks, my mind has turned today to the power of attraction.

What is it that leads us to choose a given mate? Why do we find certain body shapes attractive? Why is it that the girls with the big booties and tiny waists get all the guys? And how is it that the men with symmetrical faces and wide shoulders win the favour of the fairest ladies?

The answer is simple - within just moments of meeting a member of the opposite sex, our subconscious minds make a decisive decision as to whether this individual can provide suitable genetic material for our future children. What our subconscious doesn't seem to realise is that we're not always lining up members of the opposite sex for this purpose. In fact, our subconscious uses the same check list when sizing up a potential one night stand that it does when met with someone who we might actually want to start a family with. And that subconscious check list remains even when we're past the days of baby-making and enjoying a later blooming.

So what are the visual signals that we seek in partners? Surprisingly, the answer is not big boobs and a tight ass.

Symmetry appears to play a significant role. This is explained by the fact that we are formed through a splitting of cells. If this process continues from conception in a successful manner, we will be born with symmetrical faces and bodies. Few individuals are born and continue through life as symmetrical beings. Those whose bodies could theoretically be folded over onto themselves to make a perfect match are often visually arresting, just by virtue of the mirror match effect of their features.

Hip to waist ratio is another attraction factor. Women with waists that are significantly narrower than their hips seem to be most attractive to men. Such a ratio is a visual clue that speaks directly to a man's subconscious and tells him that a woman is strong enough to carry his child. Try explaining that to a guy who chases big bootied women for short lived flings!

Men with straight hips and waist appear to be most attractive to women, but strong shoulders for working hard and bearing weight seem to be more important when it comes to getting the girl.

Face structure plays a factor in attraction. Fine-boned women with prominent eyes are often deemed to be the most attractive, while a man's strong jaw is sure to turn the heads of the ladies. Again, this attraction is due to a subconscious awareness that the narrow jaws of women suggest good reproductive health, while the wider jaws of men indicate a high level of testosterone.

And what about those brother-sister couples, who appear to look weirdly alike? Some put this phenomenon down to vanity on the part of both partners however, there is another explanation. Once again, it all comes down to baby making. For the sake of our children's health and well being, we often seek out mates who have similar but not identical genetic material to our own.

Much is written about pheromones and the power of these secret-super-scents to drive us wild. While one can be drawn to the smell of another person's skin, some researchers argue that humans do not absorb the scent of pheromones, either because pheromones are usually found floating somewhere near our feet, or because we have become genetically predisposed to favour visual signs of attraction, rather than olfactory signals.

Whatever it is that causes us to find someone physically attractive, attraction alone does not appear capable of sustaining long term relationships. Communication, caring and shared interests seem to be the ingredients for lasting success, however a good dose of attraction certainly helps things along in the beginning, even if our subconscious keeps us in the dark as to why it causes us to look twice at the dark eyed beauty we spot across a room.

The eyes have it

2010-04-07T05:16:00.000-07:00

This afternoon I'm going to see an eye specialist for a routine check up. In my typical scatter-gun approach to blogging, this visit prompted me to think about eye-contact.

In my opinion, eye-contact is fascinating. I often feel that we communicate more with a brief look into someone else's eyes than we could by means of a lengthy conversation. When we communicate with our eyes we communicate in a pure sense. It is for this reason that Socrates referred to the eyes as the window to the soul.

Furthermore, when we make eye-contact with someone from a distance away and even across a crowded space, we recognise immediately that they have noticed us and they they are aware that we have noted them. The mutual aspect of eye-contact is truly amazing.

Surprisingly, the term 'eye-contact' was coined in the early to mid 1960s. I had presumed that this term was as old as the recognition that we can communicate without words.

In western society eye-contact is usually understood to be a sign of confidence and a means to communicate socially. However, is some cultures in Asia, prolonged eye-contact is read as a sign of aggression, particularly when a subordinate retains eye-contact with a superior.

While we in the West often assume that if someone cannot make eye-contact with us they are shy, weak or in some way lacking belief in themselves, some researchers suggest that we would be best to refrain from making eye-contact when people ask us demanding questions. These researchers found that maintaining eye-contact is so very mentally challenging that those who look away when they answer a question are more likely to respond correctly.

However, when it comes to close friends and particularly lovers, if someone does not meet your eye when you offer it, it can be disconcerting. How do we know whether someone loves us if we cannot see into the window to their soul?

The will to live

2010-04-06T05:48:00.000-07:00

Often, a collective belief arises in something that we can't see or prove the existence of. Sometimes, we defend our belief on the basis that we have no other adequate explanation for a specific phenomenon, or based on our own observations.

Many of us believe in the will to live. We have no proof that we can will ourselves to heal after illness, or to continue to live when science suggests that we should have given up the ghost. Yet we believe, partly because it seems to make sense that if we really, really want to stay alive, we will do, to a certain point. Perhaps this makes sense to us because we are aware that even when we are very tired, we are capable of forcing ourselves to remain awake for long periods of time - and so life's tiniest challenges convince us to believe in the power of our minds (maybe even our souls) to control aspects of the physical.

Psychologists and philosophers have addressed the phenomenon of the will to live and they concluded with varying opinions as to its nature. Freud understood our most powerful driver to be a will to pleasure; Alfred Adler created an individual psychology based on the will to power; Viktor Frankl, whose work I discussed in a previous post, developed the branch of psychotherapy called logotherapy, which centres upon the will to meaning. 19th century philosopher, Schopenhauer understood man's will as a powerful but negative force. His analysis of man's will led him to believe that emotional, physical and sexual desires led only to pain and suffering. He favoured a lifestyle free of human desires, similar to that promoted by the Stoics, Buddhism and Vedanta.

This morning I read a report by a Massachusetts USA based oncologist. He writes that although the will to live can not be measured accurately, nor understood in a scientific sense, from his surgery he notes that a strong will to live can improve quality of life and may even prolong life. His goes on to say that patients who have a positive attitude are better able to cope with the challenges presented by illness and may respond better to therapy.

He quotes from Coping with Cancer, which says that the most important ingredient in the will to live is hope. Much like in the writing of Viktor Frankl, hope is described as the element that people live on when logic tells them that they have little chance for a happy future, or indeed a future of any kind.

Another study that I found at Psychiatry Online noted that the will to live is often influenced by existential variables such as hopelessness, the feeling of being a burden to others and a loss of dignity.

Essentially, it appears that by believing that we are worthy of happiness and that we have the potential to be happy we may boost our will to live and in so doing, actually improve our chances of a healthy, happy and long life.

So, my message today is think positive - blind hope may save your life one day.

The little big bang and the 'God particle"

2010-03-31T08:17:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, physicists at the European Organisation for Nuclear Research (CERN) achieved high-power collisions of sub-atomic particles. This is the first part of a two year experiment that aims to recreate and study the conditions present when the Big Bang occurred. And the great news is that we are all still here!

Long touted as the experiment that would end the world by creating a black hole somewhere near Geneva, the experiment has succeeded in its initial aim and (bonus!) it has added to the sum of human knowledge without the total obliteration of life on earth.

“It’s a great day to be a particle physicist,” said CERN Director General Rolf Heuer. “A lot of people have waited a long time for this moment, but their patience and dedication is starting to pay dividends.”

“With these record-shattering collision energies, the [Large Hadren Collider] LHC experiments are propelled into a vast region to explore, and the hunt begins for dark matter, new forces, new dimensions and the Higgs boson,” said ATLAS collaboration spokesperson, Fabiola Gianotti.

Ah yes, the infamous Higgs Boson, or as it is commonly known, the God Particle... I am sure that you will not be surprised to know that my little blogging brain has been enchanted by the notion of a God particle and indeed, by the thought that there is a place for a God anything within the scientific world.

This particle has never been observed experimentally and its existence is purely hypothetical at this point. The theory is that the interaction of the Higgs Boson with other particles ensures that the universe contains matter, rather than just energy alone. It is for this reason that the Higgs Boson is known as the God particle. Essentially, if this experiment detects the elusive (and currently only imagined) Higgs Boson, it will help to explain the origin of mass in the universe.

The popular interest in the God particle is one of the reasons why CERN now has over 120,000 followers on Twitter. Another big draw is the fear factor that surrounds the experiment. There has been (and probably still is) a small risk that this experiment will lead to the creation of a black hole that will end life on earth. Not doing much to allay fears that physicists consider the total annihilation of the human race to be collateral damage, last month, CERN issued a paper including the following statement: there is little doubt that black hole production at the [Large Hadron Collider] would be an unacceptable and irresponsible risk."

While this statement does appear to indicate that CERN is NOT in favour of the end of the world, the language is not quite strong enough to help me sleep easy. 'Black hole production' - as if this is an every day occurrence? 'an unacceptable and irresponsible risk' - yeheh and then some.

However, there is a serious side to this experiment (which is far too complicated for my feeble grey matter to understand). As Heuer explains: The LHC has a real chance over the next two years of discovering supersymmetric particles and possibly giving insights into the composition of about a quarter of the universe."

Although yesterday's success is certainly cause for celebration, it marks the very beginning of this experiment. Up to two years of experiments will happen in the LHC at current levels and computer calculations will continue for even longer, despite the fact that these calculations will be undertaken using 'the Grid', a vast network of computers that will process 15m gigabytes of data a year.

Follow developments directly with CERN or on Twitter.

Life on television

2010-03-30T06:21:00.000-07:00

I never thought of myself as much of an animal person but I’m starting to rethink this. In fact, I have been on safari three times, whale watching, diving and to see orangutans in Borneo (all of which required much saving and penny pinching to achieve). I must, on reflection, have quite an interest in our furry, feathered and gilled friends.

Lately, I asked myself – who would I choose to interview, if I had my pick? One of the people who sprung to mind was Sir David Attenborough, who is famous for his natural history programmes and work within the administration of the BBC.

His programmes, including the 'Life' series and 'Planet Earth' feature some of the most spectacular wildlife and landscape photography that I have ever seen and often, the moments that his work captures are so very beautiful as to cause pin prick tears to leap to my eyes.

But it is not just the flickering images of animals, plants, underwater creatures and birds that have me glued to the television set any time that one of Attenborough’s programmes come on. It constantly amazes me how his observations about the lives of other species are applicable to human life, whether these observations are about the role of the family, the drive to survive, or the search for food in landscapes that are altered by environmental damage.

What these series proved to me was that life exists wherever it can. In freezing climes, deep underwater and in the hottest, driest deserts, life goes on. Life finds a way, even in circumstances when the entirety of that life must be invested in staying alive.

Attenborough would surely be an interesting subject, even if we never mentioned the flora and fauna. After all, he has been involved in television for over fifty years, first having been recruited into television when he had seen just one television programme. He has been Controller of BBC Two and also, Director of Programmes across both channels, although he gave up this role to return to making programmes.

His 9-part ‘Life’ series, which began in 1979 with 'Life on Earth' and concluded in 2008 with ‘Life in Cold Blood’ succeeded in completing the mammoth task of documenting all the major terrestrial animals and plants on the planet.

His later work has taken on an overtly environmentalist stance and he is committed to promoting environmental issues.

I would like to ask Attenborough about his views on ecology and how these views changed over time. I would like to ask him where in the world he would most like to return to. What were the moments that took his breath away? How do he and other people who watch individual animals for months at a time remain emotionally detached when that animal gets injured or eaten? What have other living creatures taught him about the human race? And I would like to ask him about patience, which he must have in infinite quantities.

He has been awarded Baftas, an honourary degree from the Open University, a knighthood, the Order of Merit and he’s even had a Mezozoic reptile named after him.

The man who has documented almost the entirety of life on earth has done much with his go on the roundabout. If anyone would be in a position to discuss the meaning of life, with some authority, I suggest that it might just be this man…

Let's celebrate the weekend!

2010-03-26T06:39:00.001-07:00

The weekend is almost upon us and I am delighted. There's nothing like enduring the working week to make Friday seem like a cause for celebration. These days, we believe that a weekend of rest and play is our God given right, but this was not always the case.

The idea of leisure time (yes, that's right, leisure time is an 'idea'. As a member of the generation who believe in career breaks and yearlong round-the-world-trips, I can barely get my head around this) seems to have originated in Victorian England, near the end of the Industrial Revolution. In the early days, weekends were a brief one-day affair and given that factory workers often worked up to 18 hours a day, 6 days a week, my suspicion is that rather than 'going on a mad one' on Saturday and spending Sunday nursing hangovers, playing football and having brunch with friends, this one-day was probably given over to household chores and sleep.

As the working class gained more power and organised themselves they successfully fought to have the weekend extended to Saturday and Sunday. With the development of railways, workers began to travel during their time off work and to enjoy the sights and sounds of new areas and even (imagine the excitement when it initially became possible) the seaside.

With the development of leisure time, public parks were created for recreation and relaxation. In fact, the growth of leisure time has been one of the most important factors in the development of the society that we experience today and of the most common lifestyle aspirations. Without leisure time there would be no professional sports, the word hobby might only apply to the pursuits of the wealthiest people in society, the time that we would spend with loved ones would be severely limited, spas would be empty, hotels would be few in number and the word brunch would be banished from common usage. And who would we be without time off work? After all, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy and Jill a very dreary little lady.

So, as I set into the first true weekend that I've been in a position to enjoy for quite some time, I will try to remember that far from being short, my weekend will be twice as long as the weekend enjoyed by workers during the Industrial Revolution. However, I'm sure that, on Sunday evening, when I am cursing what Monday brings, I won't care how long (or little) my ancestors partied for, or how much workers rights have improved since then.

The generation game

2010-03-24T06:13:00.000-07:00

I spent last Sunday with my extended family. This consisted of my parents, brothers and sister, grandfather, one uncle, his wife and their three children. Several hours, one turkey, many potatoes and a lot of excitement over a toy zoo got me thinking about family.

These days it's become difficult to define family because it means so many different things to different people. These are the elements that make up most of the definitions that I read online: a social unit living together; a primary social group - parents and children; class/ collection of things sharing a common attribute; people descended from a common ancestor; kin; a taxonomic group containing one of more genera; syndicate; an association of people who share common beliefs or activities.

Strictly speaking, the primary functions of the family are reproduction, orientation and socialization and the formation of an economically productive household. I had considered family life to be a biological fact but this is not necessarily the case. Ethnography, history, law and social statistics suggest that the human family is an institution rather than a biological fact. Family life is a product of evolution, rather than being in existence since time immemorial. Some researchers, including Friedrich Engels contended that economical factors led to the formation of family groups.

The term family, when applied to humans is often used to mean people related by blood lines without specifying that these people actually live together or share their lives in any way. In other cases we describe a group as a family because they are close, rather than because they share the same gene pool.

But what does it mean to be a family? I think that that's one of the questions that each of us will provide different answers to, depending on our experiences of family life. In my case, I grew up in a very traditional family - mother, father, four kids, grandparents, aunts, uncles and multitudes of cousins. We're a motley rabble, but there are few rifts amongst the lot (which, come to think of it, is probably quite unusual) and we are generally very close.

To me family means the people who will love you even when they don't like you and who will support you through whatever life throws at you. The word 'unconditional' floats in the background of any of my thoughts about family. My family members don't necessarily know me inside and out, but they're the people with whom I can act deplorably and come back the next day with my tail between my legs, safe in the knowledge that (eventually) they will forgive me. My family have taught me most of what I know about how to survive in this world, both physically and emotionally.

I've always thought as a family as being a hierarchically structured school system, by which elder generations pass on their skills and knowledge to the younger members. On Sunday as I interacted with my young cousins I couldn't help but think that the channel is open at both ends and that although my uncle and aunt are passing on invaluable life skills, from good hygiene to how to care for another person, they are also learning from their children. Our education never truly ends and certainly, it would appear that rearing children and interacting with grandchildren is a living grind school in self knowledge and self discovery.

Back to work

2010-03-23T09:17:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I started a new job. First days are always daunting. You don’t know where they keep the coffee cups (next to the water cooler), or if anyone will ask you to go to lunch with them (they didn’t). However, I am more daunted by the thought that work will become the meaning of my life.

It is very easy to define ourselves by what we do from nine to five, or more usually, nine til whatever time in the evening one can pry oneself from the desk without risking long stares and reprimand. There are people who truly do give the best days of their best years to their careers and whose entire focus is upon bounding up the career ladder, or increasing their market share. That is a personal choice like any other however, while as a friend or parent you may be irreplaceable, when you leave a position of employment it will be just a matter of days before another young upstart gets a feel for your role, sits at your desk and reads all your old emails. This arrogant creature may even do a better job than you did. And you will have to live with this. In fact, it’s probably a good idea that you make peace with this idea now.

Work might feel like your second home, but it’s always an occupation with an end limit, even when the business is your own. Call me unfocused, but I've always believed in preparing for the time when there is no work to do and nowhere to go from Monday to Friday. I think that the best way to do this is to share my energies across the span of my life, rather than focusing all my attention upon my career.

I’m trying to keep this in mind as I travel south from the city to my place of employment (which, in ironic fashion, is located in the leafy suburbs). I’m also trying to keep in mind that during these tough economic times, a job is a job and it’s best to smile and keep the head up than drown in the mundanities of working life. And this is the other thing that I have been contemplating since I left the office yesterday afternoon: work is work.

While we often become very close to the people we meet there and enjoy all of the office banter that floats above the heads of the assembled worker bees throughout the day, there are many things about working that are unpleasant (getting up early in the morning for one), but they still have to be done. Other aspects of employment fascinate us and require us to invest ourselves both intellectually and emotionally in projects that we work on. There is a danger in becoming too preoccupied by the fascinating aspects of our jobs, or indeed by the fact that our job fails to stimulate us.

When you return to work after a long absence you imagine that working will give you a useful purpose in life and that between open and close of business you will be called upon to give the best of your intellect and to share the greatest depths of your creativity. This is rarely the case and little gets done without some hard slog.

So, to any of you who are out there searching for work (as I have been in recent weeks) or bemoaning the fact that you no longer have a job to go to, for whatever reason, remember this: most of what the average worker does in any day is utterly mind numbing.

And to those of you who might be considered work-aholics: Get a life, because if you don't, one day you'll be unemployed/ retired/ on extended leave and if you've no extra curricular activities on the go now, then it will be overwhelming to involve yourself in sufficient activities to keep yourself occupied and, crucially, fullfilled.

We are who we are, not what our job title describes us as. Wish me luck in keeping sight of this fact.

Logotherapy and the search for meaning

2010-03-22T06:20:00.000-07:00

Viktor E. Frankl’s book, Man’s Search for Meaning is a slim volume, but within its 154 pages it contains concisely presented insights into our human psychology that go a long way to explaining the role of meaning in our lives and the problems that we encounter when we believe that our lives have become meaningless.

The book is divided into two parts. The first section offers an account of the psychological impact of living within concentration camps during World War II. The second section offers a brief introduction to logotherapy, which is considered to be the third school of psychology, after Freud’s psychoanalysis and Adler’s individual psychology.

Having survived three concentration camps, Frankl is in an unusual position to discuss the psychological impact of cruelty, suffering and the role of hope during times of intense challenge. His account of his time in the camps is not a description of the atrocities that occurred there, but rather a description of the effects upon the mind, of life in a concentration camp. Some of the insights that I found to be the most interesting included his description of the deadening of emotions that occurred to prisoners within the camp and how hardened most became to the suffering and death all around them. He is clearly a deep feeling man however, he notes that he himself did not always behave with compassion and that in those circumstances, personal survival and the survival of one’s family took precedence over almost all else, even if that meant that others died.

The role of hope, as a belief in a possible positive future, appears to have been paramount to ensuring the survival of any prisoner and Frankl notes that when a prisoner gave up hope and ate the last bit of bread that he had been saving, or smoked the cigarette that he had buried deep in a pocket for safe-keeping, it was a virtual certainty that that prisoner would be dead within a few days, or even hours. It seems that when man lives on the very knife edge of starvation and exhaustion, hope can sustain him from meal to meal, but without that hope, he will perish before help can come.

The book was first published in 1946 and my edition is an imprint of 1992. On the front cover of the copy that I bought the following line is printed: 9 million copies sold. I wonder how many people have read the book now and I suggest that if you have not read it, you do. I found it to be well worth the few hours that it takes to flick from cover to cover. In his own introduction to this edition, Frankl describes his thoughts when interviewers or TV presenters ask him how he feels about the success of his book. He writes: I react by reporting that in the first place I do not at all see in the bestseller status of my book an achievement and accomplishment on my part, but rather an expression of the misery of our time: if hundreds of thousands of people reach out for a book whose very title promises to deal with the question of a meaning of life, it must be a question that burns under their fingernails.”

In my very humble opinion, the fact that many of us are searching for meaning need not necessarily be read as a negative aspect of our times. In the section on logotherapy Frankl notes that depression in often caused by a lack of meaning and that when people have a purpose, any purpose to their lives, they become more positive about the nature of their existence. He writes that far from meaning being a god-given right with which we are born and that we must only seek in order to discover, we must see our lives as an opportunity to create meaning and to find a purpose for our existence.

Frankl thought that it was unfortunate that many of those who read his book had not yet found meaning in their lives. I think that it is positive that so many people are out there seeking that meaning, searching for a way to infuse their lives with purpose and reading the wise words of Viktor E. Frankl in order to help them along their way.

When the streets were paved with gold

2010-03-05T09:34:00.000-08:00

Over the past few days I've been thinking about the meaning of life as sought by people living in western societies over the past few years. I can't seem to get away from one word: consumerism.

It is the obvious conclusion to make, but over the past few years, many of us who live in open, western societies went mad for... well, just about anything that had a label on it. In Ireland, this period of collective mental illness will always be referred to as the Celtic Tiger era. It's left 35,000 people in arrears on their mortgages and even more people living with negative equity on their homes.

During the boom times, the Irish yen for a bit of land went nuts and as a result, we moved in our droves into tiny battery-hen style apartments, complete with designer bathroom fittings. But it didn't stop there, we wanted the whole celluloid package and with it we hoped to prove that we were just as cosmopolitan and fashionable and successful as anyone in any city anywhere in the world. Paddy was all growed up and ready to party, with champagne and a gambling problem. While the economic festivities lasted, the restaurants were packed out, the bars spilled over and large numbers of previously sane individuals redecorated their chicken coops with the turning of the season.

This malady appears to have affected people, to a certain extent, throughout the developed world. We all went 'stuff' mad. Or did we? Was it all about the haul, or was it about the status and the power?

Much of what people bought during the good times they bought with cheap cash lent to them by the same banks who now wouldn't lend you a halfpenny if you promised them a penny next week for it. Few of the blingest people actually owned much of the wealth that they surrounded themselves with. Many of the less bling but certainly shiny people didn't even own their own living room sofa. It was all a great and glistening make-believe.

Now, from the vantage point of a post-credit crunch world, one has to ask, why did we think that we could fill the deep void inside us with trinkets from IKEA, designer shoes and second homes? Did we honestly believe that our American dreams had come home to roost and that, with our pockets clinking with the keys to over-inflated property, we could then sit back and live happily ever after? And come to think of it, what is happily ever after anyway? Did we expect to achieve a sustainable contentment by sitting back and admiring our shopping? Something tells me that that's one brand of happiness that goes stale very quickly.

My suspicion is that rather than believing that a new Bugatti coffee machine would set us free, we were all engaged in an ill-fated arms race of the keeping up with the Joneses variety. Mr or Ms Jones had the latest 'it' laptop, lipstick, mobile phone, car or job and so we wanted it too, not because we felt that it would change our lives, but to prove that we were doing just as well as they were and that we too were au fait with the latest in Italian marble kitchen tiling.

What happened to us? When did we begin to believe that the only means available to us to demonstrate our worth was through the display of our collective possessions (which very quickly became junk - does anything define the past ten years like the growth of the rented storage space market)? We were peacocks who bought their feathers on credit.

Why did we crave the power and the status of having it all? Why did the good times turn us into despicable people who couldn't recognise our own true value? And why, during a period when we had more than ever, did we settle for so little in terms of the homes that we were willing to purchase? It's beyond me. The only explanation is that the property developers, in collusion with the government, put something in the water.

Thankfully, those crazy days are over. I must admit that a bit of indulgence was great craic while the good times rolled, but I for one have felt an enormous pressure lift since the Joneses stopped eating out three times a week and have decided to content themselves with just the one foreign holiday this year. Everyone is making do with what they have and although this has led to much stress for the many who have less than they require, for some of us, it's a relief to get serious again and not to feel the need to find every 'it' club, or cafe, or lamp before everyone else has chewed it up and spit it out again.

There will always be people who lust for power and who will want to demonstrate to others that they are the main man or woman on the island/continent/planet. However, now that the money's all gone and the rivers of credit have run dry, they'll have to demonstrate their power in more creative ways than overpriced furnishings - perhaps even by being shrewd operators who amass a following due to their business acumen, or wise ways. Either that or the economy will pick up and we'll all be back hating ourselves as we queue for the designer handbags that we believe will change our lives (if only for the flicker of an instant that we show it off to friends and colleagues, while basking in the glow of its astounding price tag).

Let's hope that before the good times roll once more we gain a little more confidence and a new perspective on our value within society - it seems to me that when it comes to the worth of a human individual nothing is relative and we'd do well to remember that whenever the Joneses get a fresh sniff of cash.

It's good to have a giggle

2010-03-04T07:06:00.000-08:00

Monty Python's Meaning of Life is a string of ridiculous sketches that might be said to illustrate, in a surreal fashion, typical moments that occur between birth and death (if having your leg bitter off by a tiger - in Africa - can be described as typical). In other words, it's a comedy movie about birth, sex, love, war, death and anything and everything in between.

The Pythons claim that when they set out to make the movie they wanted to offend just about everyone and with musical numbers such as 'Every sperm is sacred', which makes a laughing stock of the Catholic church's ban on contraception and negative predisposition towards masturbation, they certainly offended many.

In fact, upon its release, Ireland banned the movie, although they later allowed it to be released for home viewing. There's something quite wonderful about a movie the subject matter of which is the meaning of life, that firstly, makes us laugh (often at ourselves) and secondly, that laughs at just about everyone's way of life or assumptions. After all, life is a bit of a muddle and sometimes the only way to make sense of it all is to read it as a comedy (even when it's starting to look more like a tragedy). As long as you're laughing at yourself, it's not so very offensive to laugh at everyone else too.

I am thoroughly amused by the fact that the movie was banned in my home country; it seems so petty and finger-wagging in a fusty old spinster aunt sort of a way (although more rightly the image should be one of a far too powerful priest in full garb). Now I am amused by this censorship, at the time I would have been (I was too young to have much of an opinion when the film was originally released) appalled that my government had put in place laws to prevent me from seeing what is, in essence, a feature length comedy sketch show. I think it is appalling that any government should censor any form of culture that people can choose for themselves not to experience or to enjoy in their own time.

These days we like to think of ourselves as being very PC but the reality is that we're far more willing to accept cultural media that may offend some, than people were willing to accept in the past. If we held the same views that the Irish establishment took when they banned Monty Python, we'd probably never see an episode of The Simpsons.

This is a good thing. It does mean that comedy can sometimes step over the line and say and do things that the general public does not approve of, but as long as that public has a right to voice their opinions, it's surely better to have a media that might sometimes push the boundaries than one that is forced permanently to sit on the proverbial fence.

Monty Python's Meaning of Life has been criticised for being disjointed and for failing to provide a single narrative throughout the movie. However, it is a movie that is adored by legions of fans, including many who were not even born when it was originally released and it has a following too large and diverse to be described as cult-like. This just goes to show that although the archaic attitudes that led to it being banned may have died out, an appreciation for a good old laugh lives on. We change our attitudes and our tastes but the fundamentals remain - one of the most important of these is that it has always been and always will be good to have a giggle.

To give you a laugh this afternoon, here are a few snippets of the movie:

Every sperm is sacred

What makes someone jewish and j-dating online

2010-03-02T06:14:00.000-08:00

Lately, my blog has focused on religion. Rather than trying to make an in-depth survey of world religions, I've jumped from topic to topic and tasted a little of this and a finger-full of that. I've learnt a lot but I probably don't understand much more about what it means to follow any single world religion than I did when I started out. I'm now itching to move on to other subjects, but before I do I feel that I should dip that toe once more and write something (does it seem to you that that word could be replaced by 'anything'?) about Judaism.

Enter the word Judaism into your Google search bar and you'll most likely come up with a surprising entry at the top of the organic results - Judaism 101 at www.jewfaq.com. Yes folks, the Jewish community knew that I was coming, complete with an empty mind and a willingness to focus upon tiny details of their faith. Fantastic stuff - in my opinion, when communicating any basic information it's always best to begin with an assumption that although other people may not know anything about what you know, this does not make them stupid.

I start with a simple question - what do Jews believe? As seems to be the case with most religions, the answer to this question is not at all simplistic. According to jewfaq.com, there is no definitive and formal set of beliefs and generally, actions are considered to be more important than beliefs. The basic principles of the religion are contained in Rambam's thirteen principles, which include the following items: God exists; God is eternal; The Messiah will come; God will reward the good and punish the bad.

Pretty standard stuff, aside from the mention of the coming of the Messiah, which some might dispute.

It constantly amazes me how similar world religions are when we compare their basic principles. It's when you get into the nitty-gritty of interpretation, expression and law that the contrasts between them become obvious.

However, Judaism does have one feature that differentiates it from other major world religions and this is its relationship with Israel. Other religions have their holy places or seats of power but, to my knowledge, no other religion has the same connection with a geographical location that Judaism has with the land of Israel.

Israel is often referred to by members of the Jewish community as the 'promised land'. This is a delicate subject so, rather than making any comment of my own, I'll quote directly from Judaism 101: The land of Israel is central to Judaism. A substantial portion of Jewish law is tied to the land of Israel, and can only be performed there. Some rabbis have declared that it is a mitzvah (commandment) to take possession of Israel and to live in it (relying on Num. 33:53). The Talmud indicates that the land itself is so holy that merely walking in it can gain you a place in the World to Come. Prayers for a return to Israel and Jerusalem are included in daily prayers as well as many holiday observances and special events.

Living outside of Israel is viewed as an unnatural state for a Jew. The world outside of Israel is often referred to as "galut," which is usually translated as "diaspora" (dispersion), but a more literal translation would be "exile" or "captivity." When we live outside of Israel, we are living in exile from our land."

So, aside from a belief in the coming of the Messiah and a close tie to a specific area of the Middle East, what makes a Jew a Jew? Jews often describe themselves as the children of Israel, which refers to the fact that they are the descendants of Jacob, who was also known as Israel. Although being a descendant of Jacob is an important part of being Jewish, belonging or 'Jewishness' is passed by matrilineal descent. This means that if you're mother is a Jew you are necessarily born a Jew too, but that if your mother is not Jewish, even if your father is, you will not necessarily be Jewish.

Conversion is an option for enthusiasts who were not born to Jewish parents. However, converts are not sought and conversion is not encouraged.

But what does it really mean to be Jewish and what does a person gain from being part of this community? Obviously, it is something extremely important to those who adhere to this faith, even if they rarely practice.

I became particularly aware of just how important membership of this faith is to some Jewish people when a friend of mine was dating an American Jew. He was an intelligent, articulate, seemingly emotionally mature and not obviously religious individual. However, during the time that they were involved (and it was quite serious) he often expressed concern that she was Catholic. My friend was upset by the fact that her religion might be considered a deal-breaker and began to research the subject of mixed-religion relationships. One day, while reading an article about this subject, she discovered JDate. JDate is an online dating service with one significant prerequisite to sign-up: to find a date you've got to be Jewish.

This is how JDate describes it's mission: JDate's mission is to strengthen the Jewish community and ensure that Jewish traditions are sustained for generations to come. To accomplish this mission, we provide a global network where Jewish singles can meet to find friendship, romance and life-long partners within the Jewish faith.

Here at JDate we are proud of our Jewish traditions and values and are therefore not only deeply committed to our support for Israel and Jewish cultural programs throughout the world, but also supportive of charitable non-profit organizations of all faiths.

Since 1997, JDate has been growing the Jewish community one success story at a time, forming countless relationships and ultimately, creating Jewish families.

After reading about the website, my friend asked her man if he'd ever heard of the service. He expressed great enthusiasm when informing her that several of his male friends had met girlfriends through the website. Her suspicions thus set to high alert, my friend decided to check whether he'd signed up for the online dating service. Masquerading as a young and single Jewish woman, my friend went online and to her horror she discovered that not only had her boyfriend signed up to the service, but that he'd been communicating with other women through it!

Her man was a cheat and he justified it by saying that he felt he had to at least try to meet a Jewish girl. He's now married and guess what... she's Jewish. I might be biased, but I don't think that his wife is as good looking as my friend, she's certainly not as successful and my friend is one of the funniest, kindest and most intelligent people I know. So why couldn't they make it work? My friend is not a child of Israel.

Clearly, being Jewish is extremely important to many of those who are born into this faith. I must admit that I don't understand it, but there is much about religious belief that baffles me. In the past, many of those people who grew up Catholic in Ireland would have been horrified had one of their offspring hooked up with a Protestant, but thankfully, those views have now largely died out. Blame this on the empty churches, the Celtic tiger or general cynicism, but I must admit that I think that it's a good thing that we are rarely asked, by in-laws or anyone else, what religion we belong to.

One thing is certain, you'll never find me on any religious specific dating service - for a start, I'm very happy with my atheist boyfriend, but I wouldn't care if he were Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist or Catholic - the important thing is that he makes me smile. Within some cultures, that's not the primary characteristic that one looks for in a partner... but more about the rules of attraction in a later posting.

I'm sure that I'll return to discussing aspects of religious belief in future postings, but with these first few snippets written, I feel that it's high time that we get sacrilegious. In my next posting I'll be discussing the 'meaning of life' in popular culture - I feel a re-run of a certain Monty Python movie coming on... someone put the popcorn on.

Let's get physical

2010-03-01T08:06:00.000-08:00

Over the weekend two of the girls who I went to school with and who I am still close friends with, turned thirty. They held a birthday extravaganza in London, complete with numerous cocktails and dancing until the night turned into morning. Sadly, due to my current state of poverty, I spent the weekend in Dublin. I did receive a number of texts from them, telling me that they were having a great time but that I was missed. It might seem ridiculous, but these few lines of text-speak made all the difference to my mood.

These days we're constantly connected and it means that we never have to miss a thing, in terms of world news or updates from our friends or connections. It's a world in which you can tell someone half way around the globe that you were thinking of them - milliseconds ago - and in which you can send pictures, music and multi-layered experiences in invisible, instant messages.

Recently, I watched a television documentary about Internet addiction. Although I'm quite the fan of the world wide web, I think that I've got my usage under control, however, I am very worried that I will soon have to take my boyfriend to see a psychologist to treat his addiction to all things digital. I'm sure that there are millions out there like him!

Modern communications (is texting still considered modern? We've been texting for a decade, surely by now it's practically old hat!) link us to one and other in networks that previously we were too busy and too lazy to maintain. With the click of a mouse or tap of a dexterous thumb we can send words and love to the next continent, or to the boy next door. This is wonderful and even now, when a lesser invention might have turned stale, the potential of the connected world has the power to take my breath away.

However, we shouldn't exist on a diet of digital alone. Physical contact is the first language that we learn and throughout our lives our senses remain the primary means by which we absorb information about the world around us. I recently read an article in The New York Times, which quoted Matthew Herstein, a psychologist, who had undertaken a study to research our ability to communicate through touch. His study found that through touch alone participants could communicate 8 distinct emotions, with about 70% accuracy. The same article quoted James A Coan, also a psychologist, who suggested that we build relationships to distribute problem solving across our brains and that we communicate signals of support through touch.

However, an article at CNN.com warns of the perils of inappropriate touching. The article is focused on the work environment, but could be applied to other situations. The author notes that people have differing tolerance levels for physical contact and that we should be careful when touching others, even when we believe our touching to be appropriate - put simply, one man's supportive pat on the back, is another man's bullying smack between the shoulder blades.

It's a minefield out there until you establish what's what with the next person's personal space. One thing is for certain, wherever we get it from, to remain sane we need the odd slight of hand, pressure of arm and warm embrace. In The Age I read an article about two people who craved the tiniest physical contacts. One woman who lived alone shopped daily in order to experience the slight physical contact that this entailed. A man who had lost his wife started to attend mass, not for the spiritual relief but for the tactile element of the experience.

Life online is a fantastic supplement to life off line, but when the online world becomes the real world, the line can sometimes go cold. Much can be communicated through text, type, image and video, but so much more is communicated from one person to the next when they are in close proximity. Sometimes what is communicated when two people meet is that one person is uncomfortable or that the other is nervous, but whether the experience is good or terrible, if we could see the streams of communication emanating across the divide, I am sure that what we would be looking at would be an incredibly complex web of information.

This weekend I was very happy to receive texts from my friends and I am always delighted to read emails from those who are far flung and others who I might see weekly, but who I catch up with in byte size portions throughout each day. Some people are worried that we'll one day get lost in the digital world. I'm not worried. We'll always crave something that the coded environment can't give us and that something is human contact; what goes on in the space between two pairs of eyes and the kind of communication that happens when one person shakes hands with another, or when two people sit with their bodies touching.

Give me Facebook, Flickr, Twitter and Blogger every day, but there's nothing quite like being there. You can't taste the cocktails in a photograph.

Sufism and learning by closing the book (or laptop)

2010-02-26T07:22:00.000-08:00

This morning I read an article from yesterday's New York Times that inspired me to extend my search in a direction that I had not considered previously. The article described festivities that the author witnessed in Lahore, Pakistan and that were held to pay tribute to and mark the death of the saint, Ali bin Usman al-Hajveri, an 11th century mystic who is sometimes known as the giver of treasures. What struck me about the article was the picture that it painted of fun, festivities, music and dancing and the fact that this image was not of the Pakistan that I had imagined.

With my interest thus piqued, I set about to learn more about what seemed to be a jovial branch of Islam - Sufism.

What I discovered, firstly, is that Sufism is not a sect of Islam, but rather the mystic aspect within this religion. Secondly, many of the sources that I read highlighted the role of the teacher within Sufism. The principle aim of the Sufi is to draw closer to Allah by replacing the worldly aspects of the ego with purer characteristics. They do this by learning from teachers who pass on an oral history that is said to trace its lineage right back to the Prophet.

It also quickly became evident that becoming a Sufi is not all drumming and dancing. Once one has found his or her teacher, learning the sacred knowledge from this individual can be arduous. Sufi's pray five times a day, they give to charity, regularly fast and their understanding of what it is to be Muslim adheres to strict guidelines, however, unlike other branches of the Islamic faith, whose adherents believe that one will only become close to God after death, Sufis believe that it is possible to become close to Allah while still alive. (I was sure that there would be some pay back for all that praying and sacred dieting).

What I find attractive about this form of belief is the personal element - the fact that one person teaches the next and that the spiritual journey of any adherent is an individual one. Plus, I like the Sufi's stance on book learning, which is that reading alone will not lead to spiritual closeness with Allah. I am all for reading and spend most of any average day with my eyes trained over lines of wonderful words, but there is no sunshine between the covers, no human contact or interaction - these can only be found when one turns one's gaze beyond.

I'm starting to notice that in my minor explorations of world religions I am most interested in how the practice of a religion or faith impacts upon the individual. I am always wondering how religious belief effects someone psychologically and what exactly they gain from it. My heart warms when I suspect that someone is nurtured by their faith and that it leads them to be more open to and more accepting of others (no matter what they believe in).

However, as I poke my nose where it is not necessarily wanted, I am also aware that religions are complicated beasts and that I am only getting the slightest sense of any aspect of any of them. I suspect that like the Sufis, I will have to take my nose out of the books (or in this case, laptop) and talk to individuals about their faith, their experiences and what they believe to be the meaning of their life before I will gain any real insights into the purpose of our existence.

If you'd like to poke your nose into Sufism, here are some good sources to get your started:

International Association of Sufism

The New York Times article mentioned

BBC's introduction to Sufism

Wikipedia on Sufism

Angels in Islam

2010-02-25T09:18:00.000-08:00

Before I start into the more serious matter of discussing Islam, a note on my personal progress: in an earlier posting I swore blind that I would begin the following morning with an early yoga session, this never occurred however, I did drag out the yoga mat that evening and spent half an hour stretching and breathing deeply. So far, this has not been repeated but, as they say, tomorrow is another day... watch this space folks, I think I might just be growing!

And now to Islam. One element of the Islamic faith that has surprised me (and please understand this surprise in the context of me knowing little to nothing about the Islamic faith) is the importance of belief in angels. In fact, I have discovered that believing in angels is one of the six articles of faith in Islam, without which Muslims believe that there is no faith.

The six articles of faith are: belief in God, belief in his books, belief in his messengers, belief in the Last Day, belief in predestination (good and bad) and belief in God's angels.

I had thought of angels as being a Christian, if not Catholic, creation and yet here I am writing about angels in Islam. Islamic angels differ somewhat from the cherubic creatures that populate Christian frescoes in that they should not to be prayed to. Rather, they are servants of God. Unlike the Christian understanding of the angelic calling, Islamic angels are not divine or semi-divine and they do not run districts or offices within heaven. Within the Islamic faith, there are no fallen, or evil angels and Satan is not a fallen angel.

Islamic angels were made out of light prior to the creation of man and like us, when the world ends, they will die. Although Islamic angels do sometimes take on human form, they are often hidden from human senses.

The Islamic angels have duties assigned to them by God. Examples of these include: Michael, who is responsible for rain; Malik, who is the leader of the ninteen guards of hell; Munkar and Nakeer, who question the dead when they are in their graves; the two Kiraman Katibin, one of whom writes down all of our good deeds and one of whom jots down our less fine moments; Azrael who is the angel of death and Gabriel, who is generally assumed to be the leader of the angels.

As I wrote in my previous post, my impression is that in recent years, no religious group has garnered as many column inches as has the Muslim community, yet I never knew that Muslims beleived in angels and, yesterday, had you told me that a belief in angels was central to the Islamic faith I probably wouldn't have believed you.

As this search for meaning progresses I am constantly astounded by my own ignorance. Today's 'findings' have forced me to face once more that the deeper I go into this search, the more I come to realise that I know little about anything.

No yoga and muslims in the media

2010-02-23T06:53:00.000-08:00

A little slack is all I ask you for. Yesterday, I was smugness personified when I vowed to be up in the early hours to practice yoga. (Head hangs in shame) I am sorry to say that the yoga mat continues to sit dejected in the corner of my bedroom and that I have not even come close to taking exercise today. BUT, in my defense - it's been snowing and thus, I hope you'll agree, it is far too cold to strip off into the clothes necessary to stretch!! Plus, I spent the first hour that I was awake filling out an online application to take my not-so-friendly-local-electrical-retailer to the small claims court - oh yes, I want cold milk on my muesli and I'm willing to go legal on their asses to get it!

But enough of this waffle, I must return to the task at hand - uncovering the true purpose of our existence, that is.

Lately, I've been attempting to give a little thought to faith and to the rainbow spectrum of religious belief that we, as a species, embrace. I've touched on Catholicism, tiptoed around Hinduism and made mention of Buddhism (although apparently Buddhism isn't actually a religion). It's come time to speak of Islam.

Here's the problem with that: I am ignorant when it comes to Islam. Since September 2001, Muslims have been discussed more widely and more often than any other religious community. The undercurrent of these discussions is often terrorism or violence. Aside from such news stories, I have read and viewed little about this community.

Recently, I met a friend for coffee and we tumbled into a conversation about the portrayal of Muslims in the media. Without citing specific examples, we agreed that the media tends to discuss groups of people associated by a shared religion without focusing on individual stories and that, in so doing, it communicates (albeit inadvertently) that the entire community can be painted with a single brush.

A news story may not claim that Muslims generally hold extremist views, however when the only stories that are told about people identified as Muslims are stories about people with extreme tendencies, negative dispositions will form.

Ireland is a predominately Christian country and although I am aware of a large mosque that is situated not far from my home, in my daily life I have little contact with people I know to be Muslim. Neither do I have much contact with people that I know to be Jewish or Hindu or Sikh. This is not a choice, it's just the way that things are.

At this juncture, I'd like to make an aside and to tell you a story that I think most Irish people will identify with. When I was eleven years old, my school took my entire class on a trip to England. After a fun-filled and educational few days in and around Chester we began our return journey with positive views of the United Kingdom. However, when boarding the ferry home, security guards asked several students (please remember that these were polite and probably pig-tailed 11 year old girls) if they had bombs in their rucksacks. I'm sure that this was meant as a joke but it was also highly prejudiced and unprofessional. In the twenty years previous to my school trip, the United Kingdom had witnessed many vicious attacks at the hands of the IRA, who claimed to be fighting for a united Ireland. However, the IRA did not represent all, or even a majority of, Irish people and I had never met anyone who supported their campaign of violence. That I or my friends were associated with the murder of innocent people, any people, disgusted and shocked us.

I imagine that the same thing has happened to children from various faiths and in countries all over the world and that it happens today. The simple fact is that we're often suspicious of what we don't know or understand and especially when that something is a community of people who believe that they have something powerful in common.

When you meet people as individuals the labels don't matter and the preconceptions don't apply. In most cases, when I've met people who follow the Islamic faith I've quickly forgotten what religion they were and I remember instead that they are the owners of a hotel that I stayed in, or that they are great conversationalists, or that they wore fashionable running shoes that I was jealous of.

It's notable that before I began to learn anything about Islam I felt it relevant to first write this posting. I haven't felt the same need to discuss prejudice or the media portrayal of a community before discussing aspects of other religions. However, this is the world we live in today; it's a world that is smaller and more connected than ever before but one that is as divided, if not more so, than ever.

I don't know much about Islam but I've heard plenty about Muslims over the past few years. Little of what I've heard or read has taught me anything about this major world religion or the practices of people who follow it.

To do

2010-02-22T06:30:00.000-08:00

I haven't got very far with my 'to do' list and I blame this on a) the weather and b) the fact that my fridge is broken. a) and b) seem to be perfectly legitimate reasons (excuses) for my failure to make more soup and my lack of any attempt to become a green-fingered balcony-beautifying gardening goddess. However, yoga is something that I can practice in doors, by myself and at no cost and due to these simple facts, I am feeling a nasty niggle of guilt that I have not yet become one of those lean, rosey cheeked and elastic yogis that you see float around organic stores.

To give myself some credit (because if I don't, you're unlikely to) I have got out the yoga mat and stretched into down dog on several occasions since I added the practice of yoga to my 'to do' list. I have not blogged about these instances because my down dog days have been few and far between and taken together would hardly constitute a 'practice'.

I tell myself that when spring comes I will be up with the earliest birdies and stretching as the sun rises over the nearby sports stadium (not as picturesque as the sun rising above the sea, but you've got to work with what you've got). I delight in this image of myself, limber, refreshed, full of peace and at the same time energetic. In my daydream, I finish my practice with a smile and proceed to eat a healthy breakfast of muesli and fruit, washed down with a little green tea. I am wearing a very tasteful get up and my entire apartment is spotless.

It's a wonderful hope however, here's the thing, unless I actively do something about achieving this pretty picture and drag myself from bed on the chillier mornings before Ireland's excuse for a summer begins, I may be too stiff and too set in my lazy ways to hop out from beneath the covers when those warmer, clearer, brighter mornings roll around. (In order to achieve the imaginary tidy apartment I may have to employ someone).

I'm a great believer in dreaming wishful daydreams to get us through the days when we're not too thrilled with ourselves or our lives. Does anyone out there agree that, when it comes to getting and staying happy, hope is as important as love? I think so.

However, hope is merely a daydream if we do not take the actions available to us to bring about our dreamed up versions of reality.

Many things are out of our control, but starting to practice yoga is something that I can do for myself so, in order to show that I do respect the 'list', I will be up with those birdies (although maybe with the later sleeping crows, until I can get with the early bird program and rise when the alarm sounds) tomorrow morning and saluting the sun, downing the old dog and namaste-ing my way to that image of myself that I like to imagine.

With regard to the 'urban garden' - I get far too emotionally attached to my plants to subject any fresh young shoots to the snow and ice that persist this month. Once the chill is gone from the air my balcony will be ready for its makeover.

And as to the soup, excuses, excuses but until I get a new fridge, I fear for my life and the life of my boyfriend too much to store fresh cream or any dairy products in my home. I could make my favourite soup, pappa, with bread, tomatoes and handfuls of basil leaves but don't hold your breaths. When the new fridge arrives we can re-negotiate.

Until then, I will amend my lazy ways with a first small step. One down, oh so many more to go... but I feel better now that I've made a plan of action, even if it is a paltry plan.

Life offline

2010-02-18T01:07:00.000-08:00

I feel that I must explain my lack of postings for this week. I am in the south of France, which is terribly nice for me, but I am staying in the hills where there is no internet connection and until this morning I was unable to get online.

My nerves are in tatters - anything might have happened and I would not have known. Would a few hours or days of not knowing that this thing had happened change how I would have felt about whatever this thing could have been? and if something momentuos had happened and I had been unaware, what would this have meant for me - would I have felt a tremour deep in my soul? It is unlikely that I would have felt anything other than I did.

Modern communications are wonderful, but when one begins to feel that they are necessary for peaceful living they give no peace at all. When staying connected becomes such a part of one's life that not being able to get online leads to mild panic, modern conveniences can become anything but convenient, and dependence upon them, unhealthy.

It is always good to get away from one's ordinary life, if only so that one appreciates it when one returns. In the case of this week away, I am delighted to wake every morning and to see out my window a scene that is quite different from the apartment block that I look into from my home in Dublin. Yes, I may be missing important events in the lives of the neighbours that I overlook (they too appear to be unemployed and I am sure that they have now witnessed as many happy times, evenings in front of the TV and arguments that have happened in my apartment as I have watched occur in theirs') but apart from that, I expect little to have changed when I return home tomorrow. However, even after spending just a few days in a different house, in a different country, my little apartment will feel different when I slouch into the couch tomorrow night and curl up next to my boyfriend - because I will be that little bit altered, that little bit changed.

My mother suggests that we should always embrace small changes and encourages us to swop places at the table rather than to establish fixed territories where we each eat when we eat together. I agree that change is a vital aspect of successful living. Not only do small changes keep us alive by ensuring that we do not loose completely the capacity to adapt that we have in childhood, also, by embracing small changes we may discover things that we enjoy that we may never otherwise have discovered.

Holidays are good opportunities to taste change because they allow us to immerse ourselves in a new place, full of different ways and mores, and then to jump right back out of that lifestyle, sometimes taking with us a flavour of this different land or different version of ourselves.

Being out of communication is one change that can at first seem difficult, or even stressful, but once we recognise that the world goes on without us and us without news from it, our lives are often more rich and our appreciation of what happens day to day around us, more real. At least, this is how I often feel after an extended break from the New York Times online and Guardian Unlimited, not to mention my beloved email.

Next week I'll be back to my daily blog (still searching for a way to return to the daily slog) but I will do so with the influence of a week away, a week that is sadly rain-soaked, but wonderfully relaxing, if only because for a few days I gave up the stresses of my 'normal' life and took on new ones!

My battery is about to die and as I am sitting in a busy area, using the free wifi in the supermarket, I will go and return to the hills, where I cannot get online and I am much the better for it - briefly.

Definitions of the undefinable

2010-02-12T08:10:00.000-08:00

Recently, this quest to find the meaning of life has led me to read and write about religion. I've gone about both tasks in a haphazard way and today I'd like, in typical fashion, to loop back to where I should have begun. I'd like to find out what is meant by 'religion'.

Much like irony, most of us know a religion when we see one, but defining exactly what makes a religion a religion proves difficult.

Defining religion seems to be a task that has defeated many others apart from myself and the web is littered with articles that discuss the difficulties that arise when one attempts to formulate a precise meaning for this commonly understood word.

I began my own search for the meaning of religion with the Oxford English Dictionary. AskOxford.com provides the following definition:

religion - noun 1. the belief in and worship of a superhuman controlling power, especially a personal God or gods.

2. a particular system of faith and worship

3. a pursuit or interest followed with devotion.

I find this definition lacking. 'The belief in and worship of a superhuman controlling power' could describe how some people might feel about a charismatic dictator. Plus, explanations numbers 2 and 3 would equally apply to fervent support of a favourite football team.

I continued my search with reference to my very old and indispensible copy of Roget's Thesaurus (yes Mum, I did steal your copy when I moved out). My mum's thesaurus provides the following suggestions for synonyms: religious instinct, religious bias, religious feeling.

Well, if you don't know what 'religious' means these are most unhelpful. A quick glance to the entry for religious turns up such words as: holy; sacred; spiritual; sacramental; yogic; mystic and devout.

After that first foray, I am no closer to finding any definition of the term.

I then opened my copy of Wordgloss by Jim O'Donnell, a surprisingly entertaining book that I can wholeheartedly recommend to anyone who is interested in the origin of words. O'Donnell provides the following explanation of the word's etymology:

from the Latin religio, religionis, was related by Cicero to relegere 'to go over again in thought' and by other Roman writers to religare 'to bind'. In both etymologies it denoted man's response to an awareness of the bonds that bound men to the gods. Religare derives from the prefix re 'again' and ligare 'to bind', which also gives us ligature (either the act of binding or a bond itself) and ligament (the bands of tough fibrous tissue that connect bones or support muscles).

Hmmmm, in my opinion, it is a good thing to know where a word came from, but I can't help but feel that this is merely an explanation of a word as a thing and that it goes little way to help me to understand what actually renders a religion religious.

Feeling technical, I then turned to the Harvard Human Rights Journal and to an article entitled 'The complexity of religion and the definition of 'religion' in international law'. This article makes two excellent points about the problem of defining religion.

The first of these states that to define religion you must first decide what is being defined and then, what type of definition you're aiming to draw up.

The second point, which I found to be particularly interesting, is that any attempt to define religion will be influenced by how the person or persons defining it understand religion. Some people believe that religion is something metaphysical, others that it is a psychological experience and still others that religion is a cultural or social force. In other words, if you are religious your definition of religion may be quite different from that that would be provided by someone who does not believe in any God or gods. Equally, people who worship in different ways may understand religion very differently, even if they all share a belief in a god.

Feeling even more confused than I had felt when I began today's posting, I turned to Wikipedia for a basic, collectively created, definition. Wikipedia offered the following explanation:

A religion is a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature and purpose of the universe, especially when considered as the creation of a supernatural agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances and often containing a moral code governing the conduit of human life.

This explanation would suggest that religions should answer for us the two most fundamental questions pertaining to life on earth: why are we here? how should we behave while we're here? For some people, religion does provide this very function however, here's another big BUT - many people believe in religion, but few of us can answer these questions.

Plus, if I were to believe that we were created by giant aliens to amuse them in a similar manner to how we might amuse ourselves by playing Monopoly or better, Risk, and did I worship icons of these beings and live my life in accordance with a set of rules that I believed had been sent down to me by the little green men, would this constitute a religion? If others began to believe similarly, would our belief system then constitute a religion? At what point would beliefs be recognized as such?

I've come to the conclusion that I can't define religion absolutely. I THINK that a religion has the following elements: a creation story or explanation for why or how we got here; a practice that involves worship of a God or gods.

And I'm not even sure if that's correct!

Finally, because defining this seemingly simple term has stumped me, I will leave you with some other people's definitions, which I found at a Canadian website about religious tolerance (and the kind of website that I never thought I would find myself perusing of a Friday afternoon - does this mean I am growing as a person or that I have way too much free time?)

Religion -

William James: "the belief that there is an unseen order, and that our supreme good lies in harmoniously adjusting ourselves thereto."

Alfred North Whitehead: "what the individual does with his own solitariness."

Robert Bellah: "a set of symbolic forms and acts that relate man to the ultimate conditions of his existence."

Karl Marx: "Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people."

Paul Connelly: "Religion originates in an attempt to represent and order beliefs, feelings, imaginings and actions that arise in response to direct experience of the sacred and the spiritual. As this attempt expands in its formulation and elaboration, it becomes a process that creates meaning for itself on a sustaining basis, in terms of both its originating experiences and its own continuing responses."

Inside the stationery cupboard

2010-02-10T08:27:00.000-08:00

I'm going to take a day away from discussing religion, or anything to do with god or gods because I've been very busy today dealing with household issues and writing copy for a website aimed at over 55s - SilverCircle.ie.

In between these tasks I met my younger sister for lunch. At the moment my sister is working in a solicitor's office (or attorney's, if you're visiting from a land across the water) and is thoroughly enjoying it.

Until she took on this internship (in a state of panic as it was compulsory and she had not come to any arrangement with a company until days before she was due to submit the final details to her supervisor) she had no interest in entering the legal profession. Today she is considering beginning the study that would set her along the road to become a solicitor.

Do not be fooled, this new interest is not inspired by a love of the law.

I have rarely laughed as much as I did listening to my younger sister describe how she spends her days filing papers, submitting documents in the courts and completing whatever other menial secretarial odds and ends are required of her.

I myself would jump at the chance to work right now, if only to have somewhere to go everyday and a steady pay packet (however meager) at the end of the month, however, my sister enjoys staying at home or meeting her friends and she isn't being paid for this current internship. But she adores it.

I had always assumed that the most interesting or amusing stories about working in any branch of the legal profession would derive from scandalous or complex cases or points of law. My sister cares little about the intricacies of such matters and instead takes joy in the little things. By this I mean the little things like paperclips and staplers that the rest of us take for granted or despise.

She described the office photocopier, which processes many different pages at once as 'the Jesus of machines' and could barely contain herself when explaining how a machine works that absorbs documents, places a legal seal upon them and then spits them out the other end. She actually gasped when describing the thrill of using an impressive stapler and expressed extreme disappointment (with much slow head shaking) when referring to another, which did not live up to her expectations.

I have never known anyone to be quite so very enthralled by stationery goods. Unlike many of us (I had thought all of us) she is attracted to the prospect of working in a profession that would provide her with a steady supply of documents to file and order and carefully place in just the right place so that she will be able to find them again when this is necessary. When I asked her whether she would like to be a legal eagle she mused, "well, the courts stuff can be really boring, but I do love the paperwork."

If we did not share as many physical characteristics as we do I might be forced to disown her and declare her a fake. I have always been strangely proud of the disorder with which I conduct my affairs - I think of myself as being somewhat organic, natural and pure because none of my drawers are in order. Tidiness, because it is not my talent, has always seemed alien to me and I have had to persevere to even pretend to resemble a neat freak when friends call around.

So, what have I learnt from my highlighter toting, photocopier-loving little sister? Firstly, those who take joy in organisation (oh you know the types - in school they used three different coloured pens to complete their homework and by the time that they got to college they filed the study notes for different subjects into folders that were colour-coded by course) are not all bad and may even resemble those who think it is very impressive just to be able to find a pen on cue and who loose everything that they are told to take care of and not to misplace.

Secondly, we truly do come in all sorts. Each to their own is one of the most useful phrases ever coined and we would each do well to learn to live by it and recognise that we do not know how the next person thinks.

Finally, talk of photocopying, when described by someone who discusses it with the same relish that some people take when passing on juicy gossip, can be hilarious - who'd have though it.

It's a strange world and you just never know what's going on in the stationery cupboard, someone might even be in there appreciating the stationery.

The meaning according to the Dalai Lama

2010-02-08T07:36:00.001-08:00

I found it, I found it! A definitive explanation of the meaning of life from a trusted source. It seems quite incredible that I have managed to discover the purpose of existence in just a few short weeks and from my apartment, but thanks to the world wide web, such wonders are now possible.

In this case, my trusted source is his holiness the Dalai Lama, who along with Nelson Mandela and Ghandi, is one of the most trusted sources that one could go to to petition for wise words (although to speak to Ghandi the not uncomplicated business of time travel would also have to be negotiated).

Thankfully, in this modern age, even the most luminous of luminaries have official web pages and that of the Dalai Lama includes information about his schedule, recent press releases, photos of the Dalai Lama (usually smiling, laughing or waving joyfully) and his answer to the age old question: what is the meaning of life?

I'd like to include a quotation from his answer, because I cannot paraphrase his words in any way that will make his messages more meaningful or concise and because there is nothing like wisdom straight from the holiness's mouth.

I believe that the purpose of life is to be happy. From the moment of birth, every human being wants happiness and does not want suffering. Neither social conditioning nor education nor ideology affect this. From the very core of our being, we simply desire contentment. I don't know whether the universe, with its countless galaxies, stars and planets, has a deeper meaning or not, but at the very least, it is clear that we humans who live on this earth face the task of making a happy life for ourselves. Therefore, it is important to discover what will bring about the greatest degree of happiness.

How to achieve happiness
For a start, it is possible to divide every kind of happiness and suffering into two main categories: mental and physical. Of the two, it is the mind that exerts the greatest influence on most of us. Unless we are either gravely ill or deprived of basic necessities, our physical condition plays a secondary role in life. If the body is content, we virtually ignore it. The mind, however, registers every event, no matter how small. Hence we should devote our most serious efforts to bringing about mental peace.

From my own limited experience I have found that the greatest degree of inner tranquility comes from the development of love and compassion.

The more we care for the happiness of others, the greater our own sense of well-being becomes. Cultivating a close, warm-hearted feeling for others automatically puts the mind at ease. This helps remove whatever fears or insecurities we may have and gives us the strength to cope with any obstacles we encounter. It is the ultimate source of success in life.

As long as we live in this world we are bound to encounter problems. If, at such times, we lose hope and become discouraged, we diminish our ability to face difficulties. If, on the other hand, we remember that it is not just ourselves but every one who has to undergo suffering, this more realistic perspective will increase our determination and capacity to overcome troubles. Indeed, with this attitude, each new obstacle can be seen as yet another valuable opportunity to improve our mind!

Thus we can strive gradually to become more compassionate, that is we can develop both genuine sympathy for others' suffering and the will to help remove their pain. As a result, our own serenity and inner strength will increase.

Our need for love
Ultimately, the reason why love and compassion bring the greatest happiness is simply that our nature cherishes them above all else. The need for love lies at the very foundation of human existence. It results from the profound interdependence we all share with one another. However capable and skillful an individual may be, left alone, he or she will not survive. However vigorous and independent one may feel during the most prosperous periods of life, when one is sick or very young or very old, one must depend on the support of others.

Inter-dependence, of course, is a fundamental law of nature. Not only higher forms of life but also many of the smallest insects are social beings who, without any religion, law or education, survive by mutual cooperation based on an innate recognition of their interconnectedness. The most subtle level of material phenomena is also governed by interdependence. All phenomena from the planet we inhabit to the oceans, clouds, forests and flowers that surround us, arise in dependence upon subtle patterns of energy. Without their proper interaction, they dissolve and decay.

It is because our own human existence is so dependent on the help of others that our need for love lies at the very foundation of our existence. Therefore we need a genuine sense of responsibility and a sincere concern for the welfare of others.

We have to consider what we human beings really are. We are not like machine-made objects. If we are merely mechanical entities, then machines themselves could alleviate all of our sufferings and fulfill our needs.

However, since we are not solely material creatures, it is a mistake to place all our hopes for happiness on external development alone. Instead, we should consider our origins and nature to discover what we require.

I'm going to interject here purely because I recognise that you are busy people who are not necessarily at luxury to spend all day reading blogs about the meaning of life. Although what I am about to do is probably sacreligious on numerous levels, in the interest of saving you time, I'm going to paraphrase (ie. butcher) the remainder of this message from the Dalai Lama (hanging head in shame. You can read the full text here).

Leaving aside the complex question of creation and evolution we can agree that we're a product of our parents. When a couple decides to have a child, the child's very conception is founded in love.

When we are born we are defenceless and it is through love that our parents care for us. As we grow older we require affection and love to ensure that our brains will mature properly. Love is the most important nourishment that a child receives.

In all areas of life, affection and respect from and of others are vital for our happiness.

No-one is born free from the need for love and thus, human beings cannot be defined as being solely physical.

Some people believe that anger and hatred are dominant of love and compassion, but I do not believe this to be the case. However, we do have an innate self centredness that inhibits love for others.

True happiness can only be brought about by a calm mind and this requires a compassionate attitude.

We must make a concerted effort to develop compassion. When you recognize that all beings are equal in their desire for and right to happiness, you feel empathy with them, which leads to a wish to help them to overcome their problems and this wish applies to all. It is within your power to develop this kind of compassion.

We can begin by removing anger and hatred. Through reason and patience we can develop a controlled energy to help us to handle difficult situations. Compassion is peaceful and gentle but it is also powerful.

Thinking that compassion and reason and patience are good will not be sufficient to develop them. We must practice. For this reason, our enemies are our best teachers.

Anger and hatred will always be harmful unless we train our minds and work to reduce their negative force.

It is natural and right that we all want friends. When we have money it often seems that we have many friends, but these are friends of our money and our power. We must prepare for times when we do not have money or power and make genuine friends who will help us when the need arises.

In conclusion, I would like to expand this point to state that individual happiness can contribute in a profound and effective way to the overall improvement of our entire human community.

We all share an identical need for love and in whatever circumstances we meet, we are brothers and sisters.

I believe that at every level, the key to a happier, more successful world is the growth of compassion. We do not need to become religious, nor do we need to believe in an ideology. All that is necessary is for each of us to develop our good human qualities.

I try to treat whoever I meet as an old friend. This gives me a genuine feeling of happiness. It is the practice of compassion.

The life of a living goddess

2010-02-05T06:14:00.000-08:00

Can you imagine being a god on earth? Sounds like fun, doesn't it? You could flit around the globe from beautiful destination to beautiful destination, being fanned by young, lithe fan-bearers and eating strawberries and sushi while sipping ice cold champagne. Or maybe that's just my fantasy... sushi is not for everyone.

In Hindu and Buddhist traditions, the appointment of living goddesses is perfectly normal. Yes, that's right folks, you too could become a living deity! If you are a prepubescent female, with a suitable horoscope and perfect teeth that is.

The only living deity that I have ever knowingly been in proximity to (what a ridiculous phrase that must sound to those who were until now, unaware that god has been made woman many times over) is the Kumari Devi of Kathmandu, Nepal. I didn't actually see this living goddess, but I visited her home (or at least, I admired the outside of it).

The Kumari Devi is a prepubescent girl who lives in a building known as the Kumari Ghar, near Kathmandu's Durbar Square. It is said that this young girl is a source of supreme power who brings prosperity to Nepal. The living goddess is chosen from amongst the young girls (under seven years old) of the Sakya tribe. Preliminary tests must confirm that she has an auspicious horoscope and that her physical characteristics correspond with 'the 32 attributes of perfection', which include the colour of her eyes, the shape of her teeth and the sound of her voice.

The girls who make it over this first hurdle are then placed inside a darkened room where the infants are confronted with buffalo heads, demonic masked dancers and other tricks that are designed to scare them. According to tradition, the true Kumari Devi will not be perturbed by this madness and will remain calm in the face of extremely odd and ugly icons and contortions. Finally, the placid infant faces a test similar to that that confirms the identity of the Dalai Lama, during which she is asked to select items of clothing and decoration that belonged to her predecessor.

Once chosen, the living goddess takes up residence in the ornate Kumari Ghar. Traditionally, she appears on a regular basis at an ornately carved window where tourists can see her and ask questions, to which she will apparently respond by making particular facial expressions. However, in 2003, the living goddess 'Preeti' stopped appearing at the window where visitors could see her. Preeti's guardians told BBC reporters that they were dissatisfied that the Kathmandu municipality earned money in the name of the Kumari Devi, while the guardians did not receive a share of the spoils to maintain the rituals associated with the living goddess. Eleven months later, a deal was struck and she began once more, to show her perfectly formed face behind her window.

Once a year the Kumari Devi makes a rare appearance outside of her home. On Indra Jatra, in September, the Living Goddess is borne in a three tiered chariot around the older parts of Kathmandu. This festival is the focus of worship for the Kumari Devi and traditionally, during this festival she blesses the King of Nepal.

For most living goddesses, the days of being the object of worship by many come to an end just as those difficult teenage years begin. A Kumari Devi remains goddess in residence until either, her first menstrual period, or a loss of a substantial amount of blood due to a cut or similar event. When blood-loss has occurred the goddess falls back to earth and becomes a human adolescent, just like her peers.

Unlike her peers, the once-god-now-human will have lived a life of luxurious isolation. While fulfilling the role of Kumari Devi, she rarely will have left her intricately carved home and will have been permitted few playmates. Furthermore, it is deemed unlucky to marry an ex-living goddess and few of the previous Kumari Devis who are still alive have been able to convince potential suitors that their attractions merit throwing karmic caution to the winds.

The bad luck associated with marrying an ex-goddess may stem from the assumption that a little girl who gives her blessing to the king and is worshipped by Nepali people far and wide is probably going to grow up to be a very spoilt little lady - but this is merely an assumption suggested by my own experiences with one too many a daddy's princess.

Personally, I feel sorry for Kathmandu's living goddess. Firstly, she can't fly and has no super powers... but seriously, the child is essentially sequestered for between six and ten years of her childhood and then becomes a regular mortal, with little training to equip her for the process of coming back down to earth. It sounds like a very lonely existence and one that would ill prepare a young woman to cope with the rigours of modern life in Nepal, where poverty and unemployment are common and where women are expected to marry and produce children in order to fulfill their role in society.

Being worshipped as a god on earth may sound like a great deal in theory, but the reality is most likely disappointing. Many people find meaning worshipping gods, but being one doesn't sound like a very meaningful experience. Plus, in my research for this posting I didn't come across one mention of sushi, or for that matter, champagne - this goddess business is clearly not all it's cracked up to be!

330 million gods or none at all

2010-02-04T09:40:00.000-08:00

I've made a (somewhat feeble) attempt to learn something about Hinduism. I'm totally confused. From what I can gather, it is a luminous patchwork of a religious tradition but one with so many different patchwork pieces that, as an outsider looking in, it's hard to gain any clear understanding of what the whole actually stands for.

Here's what I have so far (and please stop me if I err, particularly if you, unlike me, actually know what you are talking about):

Hinduism grew organically and spread throughout a wide area of what is now India, Nepal and surrounding territories. Today, there are approximately one billion Hindus, 905 million of whom live in India, Nepal or Bangladesh.

The religion encompasses a wide variety of traditions, including schools to which millions belong and also many small groups made up of just a few hundred adherents, or often fewer.

Hinduism is often defined in terms of its belief in the law of karma and the belief in reincarnation, although these belief systems are common also to Buddhism and Jainism.

The concept of God differs depending on which tradition and philosophy one subscribes to.

Some Hindus believe that the meaning of life is to realize that one's true self is identical to Brahman, the supreme spirit, and in so doing, to achieve liberation (every religion and philosophy that I have 'studied' in this search talks about achieving some sort of liberation. Am I the only one doesn't feel horribly constrained by the physical experience of life? Perhaps, if through this search I ever become smarter or wiser, I will find my human condition to be more of a burden).

Dualistic Hindu schools also understand Brahman as the supreme being, but in their case they think of him as having a personality that they worship as Vishnu, Brahma, Shiva or Shakti.

Some people call God Ishvara, sometimes identified as Vishnu, or as being Krishna. (It is a mark of my ignorance about this major world religion that, even at this point, I am beginning to feel as if I am reading a Russian novel).

The 330 million devas (oh yes, you read that correctly - 330 MILLION) are heavenly beings or gods about whom mythological stories are told and of whom icons are often made. These devas are sometimes thought to be quite different from Ishvara, but some people worship Ishvara as a favourite deva, or heavenly being.

Which deva you are particularly attached to depends normally upon your background and will often be dictated by which deva your family, caste or people in your local area worship. Certain devas are associated with particular needs or times of life. (So far, while I am confused, I can, to a point, make sense of this by remembering pictures that I have seen of some of the various devas. That said, imagining 330 million of anything is beyond my capacity.)

(Here's where it takes a turn into territory that I was not expecting to trod in this, my introduction to Hinduism) Many Hindus are atheists (does this come as as much of a shock to you as it did to me, or am I particularly ignorant?). Yes, within a religion that seems to be jam-packed with gods, many practitioners do not believe in the existence of any creator god or gods. Unlike your commoner-gardner atheists, who tend to believe (again, I must specify, that I mean this in my extremely limited and predominantly Christian personal experience) that if we are godless, we are also soulless, many Hindu atheists contend that the spirit is strong and exists in tandem with nature, only that within this system there is no supreme God.

It all seems so desperately confusing - how does one decide what one believes or who one believes in, or not? I mean, it's just so multifarious! Yet I wonder if it is as much a matter of choosing a stream of faith as it is of being born into one? Belief is rarely logical, I think that if anything, to make a leap of faith is to believe in the absence of logical reason to do so. I can imagine that few people have the opportunity to weigh up the various attractions of competing traditions or devas, before their belief has been shaped by what they learn from those around them.

How complicated the territory must become for someone who grows up in a world where faith comes second to fashion (or more usually further down the pecking order) but where their parents worship one deva or other, and have a complete understanding of the nature of their faith, absorbed, as if by osmosis, by being and living in a society where that faith was the centre of the world.

While many younger Hindus living in western society may find it difficult to balance their faith with modern existence (as do most people who live in the west and who practice any religion) it is reassuring to think that for many of the one billion Hindus, there is an answer to the question: what is the meaning of life? From my own point of view, the search must continue. It has become my practice to dip a toe here, make a few snatched observations there and I'm not always sure that I am doing more good than bad, but the searching, at least, is very interesting and I am satisfied even just to have learnt today that many of the most devout Hindus do not believe in God - what a wonderful contradiction of everything I had previously assumed that I knew about the major world religions. Holy is not always godly.

It is sometimes wonderful to discover that one has been wrong, if only because it gives one cause to realise that one is most definitely not always right.

Sunrise, Namibia

2010-02-03T08:19:00.000-08:00

After yesterday's posting about my lack of enlightenment at Varanasi, India, I wanted to share a few images and words about a place that did inspire me. Above, are some images that I took at Dune 45, near Sesriem, Namibia.

This is a dawn that I will never forget. I woke in a tent, pitched under a large acacia tree in a dusty bushcamp at Sesriem. When I dragged myself out of my tent it was still pitch dark. I ate a quick breakfast (I can always eat) and then clambered into the truck that I had traveled there inside, to race across the desert, from the gate of the camp to this, Dune 45 - the highest of the local dunes and the 45th dune to be named by whoever does the dune naming in these parts. I remember watching the first, sharp rays of white-yellow-almost-blue sunlight rising like molten metal, on the horizon line as the truck rattled over the sands.

When we stopped, myself and my fellow travelers shivered as we made our way towards the foot of the dune and, conscious of the onset of dawn and the speed with which the sun was sure to rise, we began to plod quickly up the thick and cold side of sheer dune. Despite the fact that with each step, my feet sank deep and safe into the sand, a bolt of fear ran down my spine as I climbed higher and higher along the dune's rim, staring down the steep, smooth sides that fell away in either direction.

Finally, I reached the top and sat into the soft, orange sand to watch the first lights of the day chase over the desert. Far and wide, the sands rippled with fresh colour as the rays of morning danced over the surface of the dry earth below. The dunes were black against the brightness of sunlight; ripples of cool silk in the soon to be white-fire-bright morning.

This moment, this place, I 'got'. There was no confusion, no million deities, no secret vatican archive of bureaucratic letters. This was a moment of pure spirituality; a moment of such beauty that it took the breath away and one that could have happened at any time since time began. It was universal and, in my still short life, without compare.

In the minutes that I sat atop the dune, watching in silence as the desert became flooded with colours of rust, rose and bruise, I understood, in the purest sense, what is the meaning of life. It was a sensation, something that I could not annunciate, or touch with my fingers or taste with my tongue, but that I could feel with some other sense, a deeper sense that is somewhere inside.

If I could explain that meaning I would do, but the sun rose, the moment passed and now I continue searching, for a way to gain that sense once more and to sustain it, in a meaningful manner, that I can apply to more than one sunrise, so far away and long ago.

Lost in translation: India

2010-02-02T06:07:00.000-08:00

This is Varanasi, or as it is also known, Benares or Kashi. It is one of the oldest inhabited cities in the world, something that one does not find hard to believe while wandering its labyrinthine streets, flanked by crumbling edifices.

It is also one of the holiest cities and most sacred sites for Hindus, Jains and Buddhists. Pilgrims flock to the city and particularly to the waters of the reportedly septic Ganga (Ganges). Hindus believe that when one bathes here in the River Ganges sins are remitted, while to die at Varanasi is to be released from the cycle of transmigration that we know as reincarnation.

While I travelled around India last summer (yes it was hot, very, very hot and at the end wet, very, very wet) I met multitudes of sweaty travelers who raved about the marvels of this city and who described it as being 'amazing'. Few could explain why they found the city to be moving, few even attempted to explain what they found to be so amazing about Varanasi.

In Darjeeling I met two young english men who had (like myself) just arrived on a train from Varanasi, they used the a-word as glibly as did most other travelers, but when I told them that I hadn't been enamoured with this ancient pilgrimage site they turned away and ended the conversation, rather than explaining to me what I had missed.

A girl who I met at a childrens' home told me that she found Varanasi to be amazing and 'such a special place', but when I asked her to go on she simply screwed up her face.

On a bus across Nepal, from Pokhara to Kathmandu I met an Irish man from County Clare who we will call Bob (not to hide his identity but because I genuinely cannot remember his name). Bob had lived in the city that he called Benares during the 1970s. Bob at least made some attempt to explain his fascination with Benares/Varanasi by describing how he had been seduced by the colourful nature of Hinduism. He even took a Hindu name (much to the disgust of his Catholic mammy back home in County Clare), learnt to speak and write Hindi and took up tabla. While living in Varanasi, he and his then girlfriend had owned a boat and used to travel up and down the River Ganges, relaxing and watching the world go by, or up in smoke, between tabla lessons or prayers.

Few travelers that I met showed Bob's commitment to learning and few had decided to make a life in India, as he had. Most, like myself, were just visiting, hoping for some sort of enlightenment if it was to be found without enormous personal effort and wasting time somewhere warm (ha ha, anyone who has visited India during the hot season will understand what an understatement this is), colourful and different from where they were from.

I found Varanasi to be smelly and dangerous. Twice, while walking in the streets and while wearing long skirts, long sleeves and a long scarf across my body (I definitely was not looking for it) I had my ass grabbed. There were cows and buffalo everywhere, which I don't mind, but the smell of their excrement can sometimes be overpowering. Bodies were carried down narrow streets on narrower stretchers and on the riverside-ghats those bodies burned.

Every evening, colourful candlelit ceremonies took place on the ghats and these would have been quite spectacular to watch had I been able to sit still for a moment without people coming to take my picture, squeeze themselves where there was little space between myself and my boyfriend, or pull at my arm to show me the postcards or fans that they were selling.

There were wonderful moments, like sitting talking to a young boy who was studying at the english school nearby and who told us that he wanted to be a computer programmer - his enthusiasm for life and for opportunity was infectious and seemed to be representative of the new fortunes of India. I loved to watch people play cricket in the most unsuitable of spots - down tiny alleyways and right alongside the water - sometimes with a crowd of onlookers and commentary over loudspeaker.

In my opinion, Varanasi was interesting and photogenic in a dirty, crumbled, dusty way. But in my experience, amazing it was not.

I am utterly confused by world religions and specifically by hinduism, which appears to me to be a very open, very colourful religion that is interpreted by different people in different ways. Furthermore, I am confused by the fact that so many people with so many (millions of) deities can have anything in common. They experience something that they believe to be shared and that commonality is important to them.

I find this amazing. But not the place where it happens to happen.

I just wish that whatever is special about this place could be explained to me by one of the people who think that they 'got it', whatever someone who is not hindu, not buddhist, not jain (and I would venture, in the case of many of the people that I chanced to come into contact with, probably knows little more than I do about these major world religions) could 'get' from the coming together of so many different peoples in joyous worship, in a town where I sweated myself skinny, had my body groped by strangers and feared for the sickness that floated in the ashen air. Am I the only person who thinks that there is a contradiction in the fact that Varanasi is a place of worship and yet a place that often disgusts as a result of the sheer volume of people attracted there?

I genuinely wish that someone could explain. Many people clearly do find meaning here but I came away very ill with food poisoning and no less the wiser. If you can share any insight please do, because I would be very grateful if someone could shed a little light on what is becoming a dusty memory that I still don't understand.

A visual interlude

2010-01-28T06:56:00.001-08:00

My recent postings have all been very (adopt dreary tone) serious and (continue in the same tone) depressing. So, in an effort to intersperse this journey with a few sun-soaked stop-overs, I've decided to make today's post a little more visual and hopefully, a lot more inspiring. These photos were taken on various trips that I made last year and I hope that they brighten up your winter afternoon as much as they do mine.

For those who might be planning a holiday, or just looking for a good book about pulling rabbits from hats, here's where I took each image:

In the top spot is a photo that always makes me smile, it was taken in Sydney Aquarium - I've been twice and if it was not for the distance between me and it and the crowds that throng to this fish-filled kaleidoscope of colour, I'd be there right now.

I captured the next mountain-scape from the balcony of one of the worst hotel rooms that I've ever had the displeasure to stay in. It was an awful room but it very almost made up for that by offering this fantastic view of the Himalayas, as seen from Darjeeling, India. (Did I mention that both myself and my boyfriend had food poisoning while we were trapped in this dark and damp room - at least we had this view to wake up to - thank you Brian for waking me up to see it).

Next in line is a frog in the wishing well in Pokhara, Nepal.

The following two are also taken in Pokhara, Nepal, both by the lakeside.

Then it's the turn of lovely, lazy Laos (oh and yes, those are my feet), where one goes to chill out or to float down the river in an inner tube, as these novice monks have been doing.

The next is of 'confused faces' at the tourist market in Luang Prabang, Laos - they look more like happy faces to me.

This is followed by a picture that I sneaked while perusing a second hand book shop in Wellington, New Zealand. Nowhere else have I seen a section within a book shop dedicated to magic and circuses and it always makes me grin to imagine suited-up ring masters and limber acrobats running their fingers over the spines of the books and murmuring to themselves as they choose between the titles.

From there we go on an African adventure - spying on elephants from the window of a very tiny light aircraft over the Okavango Delta and then poling through the reeds of the Delta.

The elephants below strutted their stuff on the banks of the Chobe River, also in Botswana.

This posting doesn't really fit within the 'search for meaning of life' genre, but it's a dark day here and I've just found out that my fridge is broken and needs to be replaced (at great expense) so I'm feeling in need of a boost. It seems to me that someone out there may also be in need of a little lift. Thus, this reminder of exotic places and warmer weather is dedicated to anyone who is made blue by grey skies and/or shoddy kitchen appliances.

Holocaust Memorial Day

2010-01-27T07:46:00.000-08:00

Today is the 65th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau killing camp. It is also holocaust memorial day, which marks the loss of life due to genocide in World War II, Cambodia, Bosnia, Rwanda and Darfur.

It is shocking that despite public knowledge of the atrocities that occurred in Nazi Germany, Pol Pot's Cambodia and in Bosnia and Rwanda, we have cause to mark the loss of life in one part of the world where such troubles, such tragedies, are ongoing: Darfur.

Will we ever learn? Unfortunately I think not. It is such very tragedies that breed the menace required to bring about fresh pain.

In an attempt to shed a little positive light upon what could be a day of dark memories, Holocaust Memorial Trust has made its theme for 2010: The Legacy of Hope. This theme aims to bring to the fore the positive contributions to society of survivors. It is a theme that gives us cause to wonder how strong a person must be to have any sort of sense of normality after having lived through what could only be hell.

Today I am going to try to remember that we have a choice.

Of course, it's much easier to choose to be 'good' when you've had positive experiences of life. I know that I have what could only be described as a charmed life and yet I make mistakes all the time. How difficult it must be for those who have witnessed intense cruelty, pain and suffering and who are asked to make the choice to be kind to others, to be fair and honest and sometimes to be selfless. But many people who have suffered greatly do just that.

I am in awe of people who have been personally acquainted with genocide and who put one foot in front of the next and continue, even when there is no longer anything more to run from. I just wish that the survivors who attempt to piece back together their shattered lives could forget the most terrifying moments and those who may perpetrate future crimes would not forget that they can choose and that they can stop the hurt.

I firmly believe that every person has the capacity for great goodness and great harm and that the experiences and people we come into contact with during our lifetime will swing the balance towards one or the other.

It would be a near-perfect world if everybody had a fighting chance from the start, but sadly many set off from damaged beginnings. It takes someone very special to break the cycle and they are the true legacy of hope.

The 'Secret' Vatican Archives

2010-01-26T08:04:00.000-08:00

In my efforts to explore the world of religion I decided to send my browser first to Rome and to the website of the Vatican. Imagine my delight when on the home page I discovered a link to the Vatican Secret Archives. Of course, I was immediately alerted to the fact that these archives probably aren't all that secret, given that I could read all about them by clicking on a link on the Vatican home page. This was obvious, but yet for a sliver of a moment I was genuinely disappointed to discover that this was not a misplaced link that would lead me on a Dan Browne-esque adventure of deception and treachery.

Then, I assumed that these archives may have been secret until very recently and that perhaps soon I would be wrapped up in a world of long-robed ghosts, medieval murders and all manner of usurping (a word that screams costume drama). Sadly (for someone who was hoping to gain entry to rarely seen files demonstrating the links between masonry and papal rule) it would appear that the word 'secret' is used in this case not to denote something hidden or known of only by a few individuals, but rather to mean private or close to a prince, in this case the Pope.

The words 'secretum' and 'secretus' were used to denote something private, confidential or personal. The Secret Archives are privately controlled by the Pope, but about 1500 scholars are given access to the archives, its reading rooms and computer labs, every year, according to the Vatican website.

I am sure that amongst the 85 linear kilometres of bookshelves that this immense collection of papal archives encompasses there are many 'secrets' of which I am unaware, but unless one is a scholar of catholic history, I presume that they would be difficult to locate. In an archive this size I would imagine that it is difficult to find anything, even if you do know what you are looking for and where to start looking for it.

The history of the collections the archives contain is interesting in itself. The archive contains documents that go back to the 10th century but the number of documents that were placed in the archive increased significantly from the 15th century onwards.

The collection was on the move for several centuries, finding its first home at Castel S. Angelo, then moving to three rooms next to the (equally enticingly named) Secret Library, then in 1810, by order of Naploean, the archives of the Holy See were taken to Paris. Just six years later the precious papers were on the road again and found their way back to Rome, but in 1870, any archives that were located outside the walls of the Vatican were confiscated and became part of the State Archives of Rome. Such swings and roundabouts!

I am sure that the constituent parts of the Archive are themselves fascinating to those in the know, but unless someone comes up with a very abridged version, or some wonderfully comic cliff notes I do not expect, in this lifetime, to ever attempt to study any part of them.

Don't get me wrong, history offers many a great yarn and I am a fan of everything from tales from renaissance Florence to reports of Soviet era skulduggery, however this blog is about finding meaning and I am amused that the history of the religion within which I was raised is housed in kilometre, after kilometre, after further kilometres of bookshelves - what eager bureaucrats our religious leaders have been! I might find amusement in reading the popular rendition of events that surrounded the great schism or the Council of Trent, but these are stories from history rather than food for the soul.

Perhaps today's blog, instead of inspiring any new faith has made clear another reason why I am suspicious of religions - there is just too much paperwork surrounding what, in my opinion should simply be said as: be nice to each other, respect life in whatever form it takes and try not to fuck up.

Habits of a lifetime

2010-01-25T02:57:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I traveled across Ireland to the wild and, at least over the weekend, mist-covered western coast of the island, to celebrate the life of my friend's mother, who passed away during the week. It was a moving day that was remarkable for the elegance with which her family conducted themselves throughout the day and for the heartfelt remarks made by anyone who knew my friend's mother.

On the journey home, myself and my traveling companions discussed funeral ceremonies and specifically, the fact that it must be much easier to give a eulogy for someone who is universally liked (or almost universally, surely no-one is liked by absolutely everyone that they come in contact with?) than someone who is loved but not liked by many. My friend's mother was clearly very well liked and very much loved, as are the rest of her family.

In the circumstances that someone is well-liked it is not difficult to say 'a few kind words' that will connect to many of those who have come to say goodbye. However, in the case that a person may not have been the most popular, it is still necessary to take the opportunity to celebrate who that person was and their best features. It is not only the person who has gone who we disrespect if we do not, but also our own relationship with them and our experience of their dying.

Our relationships with one another are often extremely complicated and the emotions that we feel about a person are not always clear cut. I can't help but think that the ceremonies that we create around the passing of another person help us to find our way through what are often labyrinthine emotional circumstances.

It is sometimes difficult to know how to feel when we are angry but also sad, perhaps sorry that we did not make peace with someone before they were gone, but still unforgiving. By taking part in the ceremonies that we practice after someone is gone we find a way to say goodbye and to show respect, even if we cannot still, forgive or forget their actions or ours.

Even in the best of situations, where a person is beloved and dies old and happy, it can be comforting to go through the motions of celebrating their life and marking their death. Religion has created ceremonies that punctuate our lives and that form rites of passage that can help us to navigate our way across the oceans of noise that surround us as we travel this journey.

As I said, I am not a religious person but I can see the value in the Catholic ceremonies, in the practice of habits around the most joyful and the most tragic moments. I am of the belief that there are stages of grief and if in the first few days after we loose someone we are forced to put on a brave face, greet friends and concerned strangers and listen to the same prayers said for someone we love that we have previously heard said for those we were not so very close to, maybe this helps us not only to come to terms with the reality of what has happened but also to accept that we must continue on, surrounded by people who care about us but for whom we must sometimes smile when we don't feel up to it, until we want to smile again.

And again, yesterday, I was reminded of the community aspect of religion. There is great support in the coming together of a group of people, each of whom says: 'this is OUR way to say goodbye and thank you for this person we love'. This is not to exclude anyone else who does not share out traditions, but to find collective expression at a time when many people feel similar feelings (of varying severity) about one person and the loss of them.

In conclusion, religion is 'not my thing', but I am glad that I can fall back upon the habits that were ingrained in childhood and the ceremonies that help in times when otherwise we might not know what to do or how to move forward.

My friend's mother was laid to rest in an idyllic location, looking over water and in the shadow of mist-covered Irish hills. Yesterday it was mystical in the cold, damp weather and I imagined it in summer time, blue and green and fresh and peaceful. I am sure that anyone would be happy there, but particularly someone who feels that this is where they belong.

A first word (no wincing) on religion and meaning

2010-01-21T06:34:00.001-08:00

I've come to the realisation that it is time to take a peak into what religion can tell me about the meaning of life. This thought leaves a strange, sour and cynical taste in my mouth.

I am not a person without faith, I have faith in bucket loads however, I'm not exactly sure what it is that I have faith in. Certainly, I do not have faith in the Catholic church, and Catholicism being the religion within which I was raised, this has led to a natural suspicion of all organised religions.

Religion is, in my mind, not far removed from politics, but at least politics is open about the influence of political motivation upon those who operate within the scope of its influence (wait, in a democracy shouldn't that apply to all of us?). Most of my problems with the Catholic church (aside from the abuse of children that occurred at the hands of members of this organisation) stem from its operation as an organisation that resembles both a business and a pressure group.

However, I am a great believer in a good yarn and I think of religion as being the story within which we frame our faith. I'm interested in marketing and media, as well as writing off the top of my head and am always fascinated by the creation of narratives to communicate ideas. People love a story that they can sink their teeth into and religions, of whatever flavour you partake of, provide just that - a tale complete with characters, plot, beginnings, middles and ends.

Best of all, religions provide us with a role in the very centre of the fray - they explain our position within this narrative and how we interact with the central characters. Who wouldn't love a story that they star in? However, this is one bed-time story that comes with a rule book. Oh I am all for freedom, free thinking and free markets, but let's face it, we do like a bit of structure. Like newborn babies, most of us crave a little routine, a few guidelines to tell us how to live our lives in accordance with best practice. Religions provide this playbook and in most cases, they also provide for the human contact and community that most (non-nut-type-forest-hermits: see yesterdays post) of us crave. And they give us hope - the true secret of life?

As I said, I have faith and I do believe that it is entirely possible that Jesus walked the earth and even that he may have been a messenger from God, I also believe that aspects of other religious tales may have some basis in truth. It doesn't seem to matter who we believe in or where we believe we are going when we leave this planet, what matters is to have a story, to find a way to interpret what we see, touch and feel around us and, more importantly, where we fit into it all.

I've studied quite a lot about the early modern period, when people read the world as a complex sign system and did not believe that anything was as it was, but rather that it was a representation or symbol of something else that was deeper and closer to God. I don't believe that this is an accurate understanding of our world and I'm all for seeing a table as a table, a bird as a bird, a milkshake as a dense and sugar-filled drink, but if I lived in a world where food was limited, sanitation pretty much non-existant and where, if I gave birth or cut my leg badly I would probably die, I might also find solace in believing that THIS was not IT.

In my opinion, religion is a means of understanding our own place in time and space and for investing meaning and hope into a life that can sometimes seem so difficult that we don't know how to go on without believing that there is something more and better beyond, and a life that can sometimes be so spectacularly beautiful that we cannot fully enjoy it without finding someone and some way to say thank you.

As I take a first peak at some of the religions of the world I will attempt to keep this in mind and to try to be respectful, because I will be dealing in other peoples' language of life and of hope.

Even Mowgli made friends

2010-01-20T04:52:00.001-08:00

My inclination is to try to accept the possibility that any form of existence can be worthwhile. However, this morning (don't ask me why) my mind turned to Rudyard Kipling's Mowgli, the boy who was separated from his parents when they were attacked by a tiger and who was then raised by wolves.

It's all very well to suggest that anybody can forge a meaningful life in any circumstances and, as I have previously written, I'd like to believe that a life can be meaningful even if one does not have the faculty to be aware of its purpose, BUT I for one would loose my mind after just a few weeks without human contact and I don't think that this is an unusual symptom of isolation.

According to secular humanists, we are social creatures who find meaning in personal relations. I agree with this. When I hear that someone is actually attempting to discover the nature of existence by sitting alone in the middle of a forest, I generally consider them to be crazy. The major reason why I think that anyone who does choose to live in isolation is a bit of a nut is because I assume that prolonged loneliness will send even the most sane individual around the bend.

You could tell me until you were blue in the face that to find the meaning of life I must venture into the forest/desert/middle of the sea and remain still and silent until the true nature of my inner self is revealed to me. I'll never believe you. For a start, it sounds to me like this true nature that I would discover might be a hallucination and given that previous hallucinations I have had have taken the form of antelopes and cartoon characters, I'm not sure that I would be any the wiser if I listened to what this 'true self' told me.

Secondly, and more importantly, we are animals who need community, conversation and physical contact. Although Maslow's theories regarding the hierarchy of human needs suggest that those who achieve self-actualisation require less contact with others, in my opinion this detachment seems cold.

And herein lies one of the challenges that I imagine must be faced by great geniuses - if a person chooses to find meaning in one sliver of the realm of experience and to become truly dedicated to this very specialised search for meaning, other aspect of life must often be chopped off at the root and discarded, in order that the flow of energies be directed entirely into whatever the person has made the pet-project of his or her existence. Those who choose to focus their energies in this way are often responsible for the great leaps forward that society can thank for movements in art, masterful music and cures for common diseases.

However, the sacrifice that these people make is immense and in some way I wonder whether those who cannot achieve balance between their work and the softer aspects of human life, sacrifice too much, given that they only get one chance to dance, so to speak.

I'm conscious that it sounds as if I am belittling the contribution of people with focused minds, which I don't want to do. What I do want to draw attention to is this: I believe that the measure of a life may be made in a variety of ways. Some people make one spectacular contribution that positively influences the lives of many. Others quietly go about their quiet lives, supporting the people around them through lifetimes. Some people create meaning from their own actions but other people stand at the intersection of many positive networks of friends and family and support an entire tree and branch system of good feeling. There is no way to attribute a greater value to one, over the other.

Plus, while not all of us enjoy loud mouthed debate or sharing gossip over coffee, every one of us must benefit enormously from tiny interactions with others, which we might not even recall afterwards. Even Mowgli made friends with the animals that Kipling portrayed as having human characteristics. Solemn contemplation is all very good in small doses but there's nothing like a good laugh with great friends, or even strangers. Interactions give meaning that is shared and even if they distract me from considering my true, free, essence of self, I'm pretty sure that I'll be better for them.

And with that I am going to turn off the computer and go out.

Finding meaning in ketchup and air travel

2010-01-19T03:53:00.000-08:00

A good friend's mother is unwell and save for a miracle, it is unlikely that she will get any better. I don't know what to say. 'I'm sorry' doesn't seem to be very helpful and I can't imagine that I have any great insights to pass on that will make the situation any more bearable for my friend.

It may be difficult to ascertain why we are here but it is harder to explain the meaning of death than that of life, save that death is the finish line of this crazy race. In a manner, it makes sense to think of the one who breaks through the finishing ribbon as the winner because it is the people who are left behind, still running, who loose the most.

In ordinary circumstances, even when we flag with exhaustion, there is an exhilaration to be found in sprinting onwards, the wind in our hair, legs pumping, heart beating, passing through an ever-changing landscape. But when someone we love turns that final bend and opens up for the finish line there can seem little joy in continuing on with our own race.

So far, this search for meaning has inspired many (quite random) musings, but one message that is prominent amongst the thoughts that it has drawn up is this: be grateful for the life you have and enjoy it.

To be grateful is easier said than done because we fast forget to be thankful for what we accept as the norm. Today I'm going to write a few words about the things that I am grateful for. Of course, I am grateful to have a wonderful family and friends, I'm grateful for my education, that I have a roof over my head and for the great fortune that I had to be born somewhere that has a reasonable standard of sanitation and where I do not (yet, anyway) have to walk 6 km every day to fetch a pail of water. These things are always somewhere in my mind, but today I'd like to say thank you for fifteen other things that I take for granted, in the hope that this will go some way to expressing my gratitude to the universe, God, whatever or whoever it is that I should be thanking for this great gift of life. And so...

I am grateful for ketchup, which has made many a bland meal taste better
I am thankful that I have the use of all my limbs, without which I would not be able to do the hokey cokey, amongst other things.
I am thankful for sellotape, because my step-granny used to stick my and my cousin's birthday presents with sticky plasters and we thought this was weird.
I am thankful that I enjoy writing, my own version of Freud's talking cure.
I am grateful for green tea, which wakes me up without making me feel like a drug-crazed insomniac, as coffee does.
I am grateful to Apple for making computing pleasant.
I am grateful for apples, which often successfully fill a gap between lunch and dinner.
I am grateful for strawberries because they taste of sunshine and happiness.
I am thankful for doorbells, because knocking hurts my knuckles.
I am thankful for The Simpsons, which has probably taught me as much about life and relationships as did my formal education.
I am grateful for shoes.
I am thankful that someone invented the mattress and that I don't have to sleep on a hard board.
I am grateful for toasters, which make bread taste so much more delicious (and warm on a cold day).
I am grateful that my boyfriend doesn't snore as often or as loudly as he used to.
I am thankful for air travel, which is bad for the environment but often leads to experiences that are good for the soul.

It's a start.

Every leopard can change its spots

2010-01-18T07:27:00.000-08:00

In the spirit of writing about a single subject each day I am considering today whether it is ridiculous to search for a meaning of life, or ridiculous not to.

Albert Camus said that the absurdity of the human condition is that people search for external values and meanings in a world that has none and is indifferent to them. (Way to put a damper on the spirits Al.)

What I find absurd is the idea that searching for meaning is ridiculous, when it has been found that the people who live the longest are very often those who believe that their life has some essential purpose, however small that may be.

Camus was not so hot in finding meaning in the every day. Rather he said to hell with the external world, what we think about where we are and who we are is mostly irrational and bizarre. In fact, he probably would have considered that this attempt to infuse my life with meaning by searching for it in the tangible world was a waste of time.

Asked who we are most of us will respond with a name, a nationality and perhaps an occupation, (or previous occupation) however, Camus pointed out that we would not be any less ourself if we had a different name, or occupation and that the true essence of self is separate from our worldy ties. According to this existential thinker, to focus on the physical understanding of ourselves is to elude ourselves from discovering who we truly are.

To a point I agree that one can become caught up in trying to seek a recognisable, communicable sense of identity. Although we might not like others to label us, it is often easier to be able to label ourselves - I am a mother, a father, a lawyer, a train driver, a football fan, an activist, a cross-country runner, a vegetarian, a person who does not break the law. But what sort of person am I, what is in my soul?

Well that's terribly deep stuff and quite frankly, I am not sure that I feel it necessary to go messing about in the dark down there with my very essence of self - who knows what I might turn up, or whether I would like what I found.

It can be argued that if we judge ourself on who we are in the deepest sense that there is no standard against which we should measure our behaviour. The beauty of self-assessment should be that there are no absolutes that we must live up to. However, I am clearly not as detached as Mr. Camus would have advised that I become; my moral compass has been set since childhood, with few adjustments and I am very disappointed in myself when I fail to follow the course that I see fit, even when little actual harm is done.

I cannot help but think that we are creatures who like to receive gold stars and to know where we lie on the league table. We crave limitations as much as we rebel against them and most of us, no matter who we think we are, or where we came from, have some sense of how we believe we fare on the barometer of 'giving life a shot'.

However, often where we believe that we have fallen down we accept this and chalk up this mistake as a flaw or weakness in our character, a class in which we will never achieve a grade higher than a D+.

If I am to learn any lesson from Camus perhaps it should be that when it comes to the inner self, there is no score card or permanent record and that there is no point living in the shadow of some self-registered failure. Any sense of failure is all in the mind and if I can move on and leave it behind, it may be possible to reestablish a new sense of who I am and what I am worth.

So you want to be that strong, brave, self-assured, kind of spirit and generous person? It sounds to me like Camus is saying that any of us can wake up and be that person. If it's all in the head, surely any leopard can change their spots? Which means that life can mean whatever you want it to mean. There's no greater freedom than that.

Who knew freedom would seem so easy but yet be so tremendously difficult to achieve? And here was I slithering out from under the duvet every morning and thinking it was enough just to be up and myself, even if that was a sometimes pissed off, often confused individual. And now I find out that I can't even blame my culture or my upbringing for who I am? This meaning of life thing gets tougher and tougher the closer it gets to home and no less ridiculous.

Still, I'm convinced that to keep looking is something in itself and even if it is just another label, to search for a purpose is purpose enough for today. So, I'm a blogger, a person who questions why she is here, a messy eater, a lover of literature, a pale-face in the winter time and a person who is always late. It's a good start to know that I can change (the constant tardiness) and probably not a bad thing that I wouldn't change quite everything (I'll keep my literature and my blogging for now thank you).

On remembering and forgetting Haiti

2010-01-15T03:27:00.000-08:00

It's Friday and I have yet to make any mention of the devastation that has occurred in the wake of Tuesday's earthquake in Haiti. I've been shopping and job-hunting and getting along with my usual, mundane life.

Tens of thousands are feared dead in the aftermath of this horrifying seismic event. Still further thousands remain buried under the rubble of buildings. Reports state that where moans and groans were once heard, silence now reigns. The New York Times website includes a feature that allows you to slide a rule across an aerial view of Port-au-Prince, watching a view of the city before the earthquake hit become grey, flattened and peopled by many ant-like bodies as the destruction of Tuesday's terrible events are revealed. It is a scene from the worst war zone.

The images that I found to be the most emotionally devastating are those of the car park outside the central morgue where bodies lie tangled, limb over and under limb, heads rolled into necks, bodies heavy and still.

Reports of the all-pervading stench of death are ubiquitous.

There is too much death to identify any single tragedy until one is presented with the images of the traumatised survivors. Again in The New York Times, I found an image by Damian Winter, of Lionel Michaud after having discovered his ten-month old daughter among the bodies. His wife was also killed.

On Guardian.co.uk today stories about the following subjects all rank higher in terms of reader numbers than do reports from or about Haiti: the South Africa V England cricket game; the death of Zimbabwean tourist, Lloyd Skinner who was attacked by a 'dinosaur huge' shark just 100m off a beach in Cape Town, South Africa; the 20 best moments in 20 years of the Simpsons; Rafael Benitez's prospects at Liverpool football club.

It is a sad fact that we quickly forget, sad but also a matter of psychological survival. It is a pity that in a few weeks we may not have cause to remember that Lionel Michaud is grieving the loss of his child and his wife and spurred on by this memory, either give something of ourselves to help another person, or simply feel more thankful than we normally might for any health or happiness that we enjoy.

There is a reason that we are made this way and that is that if we did not have the power to push to the back of our minds the suffering of others, we would not continue. If we did not have this power to forget we would be overcome by everyday tragedy and it is not our business to let life's most horrendous incidents bring us to our knees, one weight around our necks, by one weight of tragedy around our necks.

Devastation hits without rhyme, reason and often without warning. To accept that, to prepare for it, or to do something to prevent it all seem sensible, but to try to understand it is impossible.

Why me? and, Why not me? are as difficult questions as is Why are we here? Thank God and all the lucky stars for the people who find meaning in saying: I'll help, this is what I'm here for. I admire their dedication and the spirit of selflessness that keeps them going when their job involves experiencing the devastation first hand and living through its aftermath day after day. To all those suffering in Haiti, and elsewhere, my heart goes out.

While life goes on, on it goes and if it is good all we can do is be grateful and enjoy it. Yesterday's post about shopping seems frivolous in comparison with the subject of today's posting, but I think that, essentially, that is what life is made of - patchwork pieces of fluff and frivolity and laughter, plus shards of moments so awful that they take the breath from your body.

Shopping philosophy (one for the girls)

2010-01-14T11:30:00.001-08:00

I haven't had the opportunity to write until this evening as I have (oh joy of joys) been shopping. As is the case for most women, my understanding of the verb 'to shop' encompasses not only the purchase of items (preferably dresses and shoes, but I am open to persuasion) but also the act of nosing around the shops, trying for size pretty bits of expensive nothingness that I have no intentions of buying and pretending, for a few hours, that I have a lifestyle quite different to that which I currently 'enjoy'.

I am a great believer in shopping. I agree that blatant consumerism and greed have been at the root of much of the trouble that the global economy now faces and yet, still, I am not unconvinced that the perfect dress will change my life. And this hope sustains me, even when I am perfectly satisfied with the life that I live.

The perfect dress may only be perfect for one glittering, wonderful moment and then, the elation will pass and life will continue as it was before. BUT for that one moment I will feel confident and beautiful and elegant and pleased to be myself. And by God that is one helluva high, a high that, from the moment it passes, I will thirst to enjoy again. Thus, the shopping addiction is manifest.

Safe in the knowledge that the moment passes and that the starlight magic of a dress's fifteen minutes lasts just that (or sometimes a few hours), and knowing that funds are currently not as healthy as one might hope, today I thoroughly enjoyed tasting the wares without feeling under pressure to give them a home for life.

And it's still wonderful to escape for those moments and pretend to be all sorts of elegant people with elegant lives. The power of imagination with which we as creatures of nature have been gifted is immense and it is this power that lights the darkest moments or simply keeps us company when we need it (I suspect that it is also that power that fills us with a wonderful glow of excitement when we wear what we believe to be 'the perfect dress').

Today my imagination went window shopping, tomorrow it might put bread on the table - who knows. The imagination is mystical and gives us reasons to laugh about things and events that don't even exist. Who's to say that what is real is the matter, the tangible things and surfaces that we can see and touch? It is as much the fleeting ideas and the daydreams that pass through our minds as we peruse the sale rails, it is the ridiculous conversations that we have with close friends and the private jokes we share. It is also forgetting to buy the milk and only realising after you've made a cup of tea and it is washing a navy sock with the whites wash.

Today the meaning of life was shopping and when it's all a great pretense and an act of creativity (in this case, one that never leaves the fitting room), what harm, what fun, what a way to pass a happy day. As long as it is not every day, in which case it would become a chore and with that, a bore.

Thank the lord and all the lucky stars for 70% off sale rails is what I say. Why not? What doesn't break us, or make us broke, will make us, if not stronger, then full of fun and laughs and maybe even a little more fashionable to boot.

Philosophy 101, part III - down with maths

2010-01-13T05:56:00.000-08:00

Based on the experiences that I have gleaned from my long (one week + one day) career in blogging, I have come to the conclusion that the long posts in which I attempt to convey many ideas (other peoples' ideas at that) often fail to captivate.

Thus, today I sought one single idea from which I might gain a little inspiration.

I couldn't resist 'the greatest happiness principle', which 19th century philosopher Jeremy Bentham believed explained the meaning of our existence. I imagined that this greatest happiness principle would have something to do with strawberries, champagne, sunshine and many, many Oscar de la Renta dresses. Sadly it does not.

Very much unhappily, the greatest happiness principle or, felicus calculus is (in true post-enlightenment style) an algorithm for calculating just how much joy would result from any specific action.

In my book, the use of an algorithm to do any calculation is a sure fire way to pass an afternoon with very little joy of any kind. When I began this search I thought that I might be capable of being sufficiently open minded to accept differing spiritual views of life's meaning. Asking me to perform mathematical calculations is going a step further than I had hoped I would be asked to venture.

To measure pure, heartfelt, uninhibited, soulful, natural, face-stretching-grin, belly-sore-from-laughing joy, Bentham instructed us to ask 6 questions:

1. how strong is the joy?

2. how long will it last?

3. how likely is it that the pleasure will occur?

4. how soon will this happiness occur?

5. how likely is it that the action will be followed by sensations of the same kind?

6. what is the probability that it will not be followed by sensations of the opposite kind?

and John Stuart Mill made the addition of a 7th question:

7. how many people will be affected?

Following mathematical manipulation, the answers to these questions would supposed tell us just how moral was the act that we were considering.

Something tells me that if 19th century women had asked themselves these supposedly rational questions before deciding to chance a roll in the hay, few of us would be here today to question our existence.

Thankfully, obviously not too many a milking maid stopped in the throws of passion to make a quick back-of-an-envelope calculation to ascertain whether it would all be worth the fuss of getting undressed, and the human race lived to fight another day.

I am all in favour of looking before I leap and of trying to remember to consider the impact of my actions upon others, but I'll be damned if the meaning of my life will be calculated to be 42.

If I will make one rule for this search it will be this: the meaning of life may be messy and possibly undefined, but it will not be found through an utterly unpoetic mathematical calculation.

The happiness of different people is impossible to quantify. We are not beads on an abacus but complex, mystifying, flawed, beautiful possibilities.

If you wish to seek the meaning of life by means of long division I encourage you to do so, but you won't find that here.

Philosophy 101, part II - Kitchen philosophy

2010-01-12T06:21:00.000-08:00

Kitchen philosophy is a branch of philosophy that is, as its name would suggest, often practiced in the kitchen. It is an invention of my mother's, not that I think she and her offspring are the only people who follow this line of thought, but we may be the only people who call it this.

To engage in kitchen philosophy you don't have to actually involve yourself in any cooking, or indeed, eat and I think that you could probably kitchen-philosophise in other rooms of the house or even outdoors, but it is ordinarily undertaken in the kitchen because the kitchen is the heart of the house.

In essence, kitchen philosophy is the philosophy of your family, or your friends and is a group of thoughts and discussions by means of which you form your central views and positions on life.

In our house we talked about what was important to us, love or money? love, much more love, but if it's going, enough money that you don't go mad or end up fighting with the one you love; logical thinking or fuzzy thinking? fuzzy thinking often takes into account the context and any solution is illogical if conceived out of context; take what's coming to you or fight back? our family motto - on my maternal side - is 'with endurance we shall conquer', we're big into staying strong and making the best life (ie. one with lots of love and as little stress as possible) rather than accepting a bad deal; 'successful' career or creative career? whatever makes you happy, but if you have a strong desire to be creative you probably won't be happy until you satisfy this, this does not necessarily have to be satisfied by your career, which may simply pay for your creative practice, nor necessarily must a career be essentially uncreative because you work with numbers or for a company that uses the word 'corporation' in its official title. Oh and words have colours - some people get this and to others it seems illogical and beyond stupid, but I defy anyone to tell me that the word 'scooter' is anything other than red.

Central to our brand of kitchen philosophy is the idea of living and let live - but this rarely applies to each other. We can agree that we believe in being kind and of always trying to put ourselves in other people's shoes before we jump to conclusions about them or their lifestyles, but we do not always succeed in this. On most things we disagree on some level with each other. Specifically we do not succeed in agreeing, or even empathising with each other because we refuse to concede that in our mother or brother or sister's shoes we would conclude what they do. We each think that we're smarter than that.

Kitchen philosophy is very simply, talking about ideas and I believe that it has been enormously beneficial to my development as a person. Due to the fact that my family and I disagree about almost everything, while sharing similar fundamental ideals, I am perfectly content with the idea that not everyone will agree with me all of the time and I still won't stop harping on about whatever it is that I believe in (on second thoughts this may actually be a major flaw of mine, in fact I'm pretty sure it is but yet I'm strangely proud of this flaw - with endurance and all that). Plus, I enjoy a good, serious, fairly fought argument, it is enormously stimulating, but after all views have been presented I prefer to forget all about any disagreement, make another cup of tea and move on to discussion of something else, often something entirely mundane.

More importantly, kitchen philosophy has convinced me that conversation and sometimes silent togetherness are some of the most important elements of life. The moments of greatest meaning to me have not been those moments when I received degrees or promotions at work, they've been small moments sitting around a kitchen table, or a restaurant table, or sometimes standing or walking, when someone has shared ideas with me and I shared my ideas with them and what we made in the middle meant something and moved one or both of us. Sometimes it was not the words that mattered, it was something else. I suspect that sometimes, there are no words to describe the 'meaning of life' just a feeling, a sense of belonging and being and learning from someone else and being happy that you're where you are and they're there with you.

Tomorrow I'll get back to the 'book-learning' version of philosophy and find out what else there is to be learned outside of the kitchen.

Philosophy 101

2010-01-11T08:19:00.000-08:00

Dipping a first toe into the deep, dark pool of philosophical thought leads me to believe that the meaning of life according to many a philosopher might be able to be summed up as - commit yourself to a life of goodness and of studying to be good and eventually you will become one with the goodness and no longer be a slave to your emotions or human appetites, thus attaining freedom from suffering. Only it seems that they couldn't agree as to the actual meaning or definition of this 'good'.

Plato and his followers taught that the meaning of life was to be found in attainment of the highest form of knowledge, or good, this higher good being the source of all things worthy and of value. Furthermore, they argued that this 'good' could not be found unless the seeker involved themselves in philosophical reasoning.

Aristotle was a man of action and favoured practice in addition to study, as a path to 'goodness'. In other words, Plato said that if you went to the library every day and studied your 'good' books you would be qualified to fill a well paying job in that area. Aristotle on the other hand took a more modern approach and would have suggested that you spend your final semester working in an office down town where you would make the tea, collect the post, arrange couriers to bring packages to low-level clients and correct the spelling of your superior's email correspondence, prior to graduating to a path of virtuosity.

But Aristotle argued that each and every one of these actions must have a goal with good as its object (subtract 'support of the brand' or 'increase in overall revenues' for good and one will note the similarity between Aristotle's thinking and the teachings of latter-day marketing consultants). The problem is that if each action must have a goal, then that goal too must have a goal and so on and so forth and where does that leave us? ie. if one consistently places the company logo in the same position on each and every communication from the company to clients and the public, those people know where to find the company logo and will not be confused, the company logo tells them something about the company's brand, that brand communicates what the company stands for...

Aristotle's answer to this eternal question was summon bonum, or the highest good. This highest good was thought to be the most important and ultimate aim of human existence and was considered to be an end that explained our existence.

This idea of a highest good is present in both western and eastern traditions. In the west, Christian tradition associated the idea of highest good with a righteous life, lived in accordance with the teachings of God. In this tradition, happiness and virtue are often presented as being mutually exclusive, but it is understood that happiness is found in the knowledge that one is working for the higher good.

In eastern traditions the idea of highest good is expressed in a variety of ways and understood by means of varied interpretations. For example, dharma is the idea of one's own virtuous duty or path, by which one should live to achieve the state of bliss. Tao, which translates as 'way' or 'path' is considered to be the source of the universe, while also being in every physical manifestation of that universe. In taoism it is believed that one cannot control the tao, but that one should be good and true in order to follow the tao. Moksha or mukti refers to the liberation from the cycle of reincarnation (the cycle of life, death and re-birth known as samsara) after the atman (soul or true self, other than how we understand it through its physical manifestation) becomes one with parataman (the supreme spirit). Moksha has a similar meaning to nirvana, which is a state of freedom achieved by quenching all greed, hatred and delusion.

Self-realization is understood as liberation from samsara but is also an important idea within western psychology, specifically within psychosynthesis. Psychosynthesis is a branch of psychology that diverged from Freud's focus upon the ego and our fantasies about having sex with our parents and encompassed the idea of transpersonal development. Transpersonal development is similar to self-actualisation and its importance within psychosynthesis means that this branch of psychology focuses on allowing us to develop into not just functioning human beings, but good old self-realised souls who follow whatever calling we feel we have and live up to our greatest potential.

I have not even begun to discuss the cynics who taught that we should all be self sufficient and become happy by living a natural life (yes more of that you-will-find-peace-in-the-trees-my-son philosophy, but this time from some people who've clearly given it a lot of thought). Or to get into Cyrenaicism, which was all about indulgence and abandoning oneself to the joys of immediate gratification and short-term pleasures.

As it turns out, much to our detriment, we lived the hedonistic life all through the naughty nouties and have found out the hard way that short term pleasures often cost more in the longer term and lead to unemployment, disenchantment and large mortgages.

Epicurus had an answer to this, which was that stalwart of successful dieting - moderation. He taught that we would attain happiness by enjoyment of modest pleasure, friendship and virtuous living. According to him, the meaning of life was to take joy in the little things and not to allow stressful and negative thoughts to overcome the soul. Good for Epicurus.

Stoics were all about accepting one's lot, living a rational, reasonable life and achieving 'goodness' by living in harmony with the divine order of the universe. They suggested that one should seek meaning through rational contemplation and diligently practiced logic.

Essentially, although they cannot agree upon the essence of goodness, most philosophers suggest that to achieve it, and happiness, much study and concentrated effort are required and this, I fear, is why we are often tempted the way of cyrenaicism and hedonism.

If you're young, commitment to the study of virtue may seem like an enormous risk - forgo all the fun and games that abound, on the off chance that the ramblings of some old guy/lady with a beard will lead to eternal happiness? What if he/she is wrong and we only realise this after many years of goodness and study? By that point we may no longer have the will or the energy to enjoy whatever fun times are to be had. Thus, it can seem much more sensible to have our fun now and study virtue later. Only sometimes, as we recently learnt, the fun takes all the good out of it and we're left with an awfully big mess to clean up. In such cases some of us may be so bored by our joblessness and the fact that we can no longer afford to have much fun that we might even turn to seeking the meaning of life to get us through, end up reading about philosophy and, damn... those philosophers and their diligent-pursuit-of-knowledge thing will get you in the end, whether you like it or not.

Cream of chicken is not the only soup or, is the idea that life has a meaning a hoax?

2010-01-08T08:51:00.000-08:00

It's the end of the week and although I don't have a job, I'm tired so this will probably be either a short post or a long, rambling and nonsensical entry. I will try to keep it short.

Before I launch into the area of philosophy and what it has to say about the meaning of life (quite a lot I would imagine), I'd like to diverge today onto the subject of soup. Yesterday, I read a posting at Thoroughly Modern Medusa entitled just this: soup. The posting began: You know what's better than chicken soup on a bitterly cold day? Matzo Ball Soup. (And if you'd like to read a recipe for Matzo Ball Soup please click on this link.)

This got me thinking (as I've hinted before, if you have a job, you'd be amazed by how the unemployed mind works). There are some days when there is nothing in the world that one would want more than a big bowl of steaming soup and if asked, one might request, for example, cream of chicken. However, if cream of chicken was not available and instead we had to make do with our second favourite soup flavour, for arguments sake let's just say that that is tomato and basil, tomato and basil would probably do just as well. While I agree that tomato and basil has none of the particular poultry goodness of cream of chicken it is a tasty, nutritious and warm dish that might successfully be accompanied by bread and although initially we might have been put out to have been forced to choose what we consider second best, two hours later we'd probably feel just as good and healthy as if we'd eaten cream of chicken.

Add this to the fact that my favourite soup is pappa al pomodoro, which is a traditional Tuscan tomato and bread soup, but that I would rarely choose to eat this heavy dish during the summer months and the nugget of an idea starts to form. What I am getting at is that there is no one perfect soup. One particular soup might seem to be perfect in a given situation, or if we think about its choice and become involved in the act of choosing, but the simple fact is that if you like soup you probably enjoy eating more than one type of soup.

I'm starting to suspect that the meaning of life may be somewhat similar. Perhaps there is no single meaning of life, no template or playbook. The idea that we might search for meaning and conclude with one definitive answer is, let's face it, a big, fat, philosophical hoax.

Instead, I suspect that it might be more useful to think of meaningful life as being the genus, to which a variety of different, varied meanings belong. In other words, you may think that your life would be meaningful if you gave more to charity; met the man/woman of your dreams; became more spiritual; or worked as a doctor in A&E and saved car crash victims from an early grave. However, you may never achieve what it is that you think will infuse your life with meaning and yet that life may be purposeful and satisfying and good.

Which brings me neatly onto the subject of philosophy, which has attempted through varied cultural understandings to explore the meaning of life. It may take me quite some time to get a handle on what philosophy has to say about the meaning of life because human kind has attempted to provide an answer to the question: why are we here? since we were advanced enough to have that luxury, and we've chosen to discuss this from very different points of view throughout time and within diverse cultures.

I'm beginning to think that there is no meaning of life, only meanings, in the same way that there is not only cream of chicken soup, but many different flavours and consistencies of soup to be relished. It is with this in mind that I will venture onwards.

What Wikipedia tells us about what science tells us about the meaning of life

2010-01-07T06:58:00.000-08:00

I've never thought of myself as being much of a devotee of science. When met with the larger of life's questions I tend to search for answers in philosophy, art, or creative writing before I will turn to the theories provided by white-coated people in labs. However, discussion of subjects like 'the meaning of life' can become a little dreamy and the answers insubstantial unless one starts with a good, solid footing and for this, science is your only man.

Let us be clear though, when I write 'science' I mean POPULAR science. I'm not going to even attempt to delve into the world of real science, which might require me to know something about test tubes, the periodic table of the elements and patience.

And so to Wikipedia, the lazy girl's library. A quick aside on Wikipedia - I know it's sometimes incorrect and that people who think they are awfully clever have gotten away with inserting false entries, which went undetected for months, but when you have neither the vocabulary nor the mental framework necessary to begin researching a new subject, in my opinion, Wikipedia is a fantastic place to start.

I've been finding it hard to separate in my mind the idea of searching for the purpose of existence and that of searching for the secret to happiness. Wikipedia confirms that I am not alone in having difficulties with this by beginning the science section within the meaning of life, with a discussion of the work of positive psychologists and humanist psychologists. Both groups have studied the behaviours that lead to life satisfaction.

It is certainly tempting to assume that a happy life is a meaningful life and perhaps this is the case, but is it not also possible that one could lead a miserable, disgruntled, thoroughly unsatisfactory but ultimately meaningful life? And I know that this probably isn't very 'science' of me, but who declares a life meaningful? Do you have to be aware of your life's 'meaningfulness' yourself, or is the purpose evident in the impact of your life upon others?

A guy who goes and sits under a tree for seven years contemplating the meaning of existence may have climbed to the top of Maslow's hierarchy, but what about a woman who is grumpy when she has PMS, spends far too much money on shoes, doesn't make much effort to make friends within her local community but paints a masterpiece that brings joy and previously undreamt of enlightenment to following generations? Or who sends money to an orphanage and puts six kids through college who would otherwise not have had this opportunity? Or who brings up two children of her own? Surely her efforts count for something, even if she is a nasty piece of work when someone else gets the last pair of Bertie strappy sandals that are on sale.

However, there is something to be learnt from the idea that engaging in activities, utilizing our strengths or investing in something larger than ourselves may give us a greater sense of satisfaction with our lives. Our lives may be very meaningful to someone else and we might never know, but if we only get one shot at this thing called life, doesn't it make sense that we should enjoy ourselves and feel good about ourselves while we're here? I think so, and if making certain changes might help that along I don't see anything wrong with going about making those changes in an active, deliberate fashion.

Let's now get down to some more sciencey science: neuroscience gives us an incredible insight into how our behaviours may be influenced by the pursuit of pleasure. Neuroscientists have taught us that if life is all about the search for rewards, our actions can be predicted quite accurately. We might each think that we know our own minds but those minds react very similarly to certain stimuli in particular situations. Is that all it's about? Are we here to look for the next chocolate biscuit and sunshine holiday? I'd like to think that we're more complex beings than that.

The problem of consciousness has stumped scientists for generations. Some neuroscientists believe that consciousness can be explained by studying the neurons within the brain. Other researchers have suggested that consciousness is a more difficult problem than this. Andrei Linde has suggested that consciousness may have its own intrinsic degrees of freedom, which would mean that our perceptions may be as real as (or even more real than) our microwave. (There is no spoon?)

Biologists focus on the need of humans to procreate in order to guarantee the survival of our genes. Certainly, the drive to have sex is strong and its impact upon many of the decisions that we make throughout our lives cannot be underestimated BUT (there's always a but) flaws on genes are passed on to the next generation along with all the best characteristics and some people are created in such a way that they cannot procreate, ie. there's got to be more to this one shot at existence than the popping of sprogs.

The biological explanation is one see-saw that has swung acutely in favour of nature over nurture. I'm more willing to accept that our primary function may be to pass on our genes and/or skills and knowledge. Progress is a product of collective knowledge and collective understanding rather than evolution alone. Unless useful skills are passed on (including the ability to socialise and care for one and other) life may continue, but in what form?

I am somewhat suprised to discover by means of this Wikipedia entry that defining life remains a challenge. This seems like something so basic that we should all know it, but I did not know that the essence of life remains undefined. There is something wonderful in knowing that science cannot come to agreement in defining even this most basic understanding of being - who's to say what life is?

It is next the turn of the physicists, who still can't agree how it all began. Despite all the experiments that threatened to open a black hole under Geneva, they can only describe the universe from 10-43 after the big bang. Thinking about the big bang has always made me feel a bit nauseous when I begin to consider this: there was a big bang and since then all matter has been expanding outwards - but what is it expanding into? I try to visualise this, taking into account that what I think of as 'nothing' is in fact 'something' and then, oww my head hurts! And the pain only intensifies when I read that it has been suggested that we are living in just one portion of a multiverse. And I've only just got over the idea that Pluto is no longer considered a planet.

I will leave you today with a quote from Wikipedia that made me realise that although they may be very meaningful and wonderful, our short lives are tiny pin prick holes on a giant map of eternity, and that makes me want to speak in a deep and booming voice alla the intro to Star Wars, or Star Trek (or was it Space Balls?): biological life will eventually become unsustainable, be it through a Big Freeze, Big Rip, or Big Crunch. It would seem that the only way to survive indefinitely would be by directing the flow of energy on a cosmic scale and altering the fate of the universe.

(Wow, altering the fate of the universe, that sounds great. I want to do that.)

The luxury to question existence

2010-01-06T08:20:00.001-08:00

I had planned that today's post would be entitled 'What Wikipedia tells us about what science tells us about the meaning of life' but this morning, as I was walking through the snow to my parents' house, I started to think about Maslow's hierarchy of needs (you would be amazed what pops into one's head when one is unemployed, childless and petless).

According to Maslow's theory, our behaviours and potential for self actualization are dictated by a hierarchically structured series of needs, from the most basic needs for human life such as food, water, breathing and sex, to more complex social needs including the support of family, friendships and feeling that one belongs to a group. Often this is represented as a triangle, with the most basic of needs at the widest point at the base and the highest needs associated with self actualization at the narrowest point of the top.

What I thought, as I plodded up and down the slippery roads, clutching my beloved laptop to my chest and holding my head low to keep the hailstones that were falling from falling into my eyes was: if someone asked me right now if I was interested to learn the meaning of life I'd say, sure, absolutely, but later, right now I just want to get warm.

It is an enormous luxury to be in a position to question one's existence and, although any existential crisis may be trying, the fact that I don't have to spend my every waking moment scouring the plains for passing weak zebra, or fighting for survival on the gritty streets of the grittiest cities on this planet is cause for celebration. That I have time, energy and the wherewithal to question what the hell this is all about and why I should get out of bed at all is evidence that the most fundamental of my human needs, the elements of life that must be in place before a life can become meaningful, must be satisfied. Surely this is a very good start.

However, lately my own personal triangle has been destabilized. On the first rung I'm doing OK, apart from a slight snivel I'm feeling healthy, I have food in my fridge, a roof over the fridge and a wonderful boyfriend who provides for other base necessities. As I climb higher on my triangle of needs things start to look ropey. The second level represents safety and this includes security of body (check) and the safety provided by having a loving family (also check) it also includes employment and job security (not so check). We're at a time when many people are finding the same blanks in their safety wall and according to Maslow, this may make our progression to higher levels more difficult, if not impossible.

That said, the next level up from safety is love and belonging and here I score well. I have a great family and close friends. So how did I achieve this without completing all the prerequisites of level two? Firstly, I did once have a job (although it feels like quite some time ago now) and I did also have a certain degree of job security. Previous to this my parents had jobs and I felt pretty secure of their job security, which, I suppose, is a psychologically similar situation. This would suggest that given that I once ticked all the boxes I was in a position to look for the next thing that was missing from my life (yep, we always want more).

Beyond this stage we seek esteem, both self-esteem and the esteem of others and if this can be achieved, self actualization, through creativity, problem solving, acceptance of our own nature and a sense of morality that favours the greater good over our own short-term gains.

So, can a person who is unemployed and who doesn't know where the next pay cheque will come from (or when) become self actualized? I would like to think that anyone, from any walk of life can become a fully formed person living up to the heights of their potential BUT it has got to be easier if you've ticked all the boxes along the way.

I can't help thinking that when your triangle becomes destabilized it's easier to become distracted from being creative, or thinking of others, or whatever it is that self actualized people do, because instead you've got to think about putting food on the table or finding a community in a new location or rebuilding your self esteem after a few hard knocks.

And so it's time to go back out into the cold and I can assure you that while I am out there battling the crueler elements I will not be thinking about the purpose of existence. I will be thinking: don't slip on the ice; I don't want to fall and break my arm; need to get warm; need to get warm; need to get warm, until I get home. And when I do get home I'll probably cook and eat dinner, chat to my boyfriend and maybe even watch some TV before I'll have any further interest in my pursuit of meaning.

Good luck on the ice and if you feel yourself falling, take my mother's advice and try to break your fall with your hands. After all, it's better to break an arm than an ass.

The meaning of life according to Google

2010-01-05T02:40:00.000-08:00

The meaning of life is a complex philosophical question that has been considered by the brightest and wisest since time immemorial. I begin my search for the purpose of existence in the same way that most modern searches get started - by consulting the twin titans of the search world: Google and Wikipedia.

A quick search by Google using the phrase 'the meaning of life' returns 89,900,000 results. This may take longer than I had initially thought. The first result directs me to the Wikipedia entry for the meaning of life, which, due to its length and the scope of detail that it contains, I will return to tomorrow. The second result is another Wikipedia entry, this time for Monty Python's Meaning of Life. The following entry also refers to Monty Python's irreverent take on our life's work and I have to say that I find it heartening that, from the outset, comedy should play such an important role in this search for meaning.

From there on in I begin to turn up what I was afraid of finding - distinctly Yoda-esque discussions of the spiritual nature of existence. It is not that I disagree with the idea that the quest to discover the purpose of our being is a spiritual one, instead it is the 'deep' language that is used throughout that sends a shiver down my spine.

A quick scan of the first page of Google's results reveals questions such as: why are we here? Is there a God or isn't there? What is our destination? On the following page I find: Love gives meaning to our lives - as do friendship, or art, or faith in God. (Hmmm, another mention of God, I may have to get used to this). And then this gem from the New York Times: Cutting calories makes a monkey miserable. Ha ha. What???? Brilliant.

Getting back to my 'God' issue. If I am going to continue this search for the meaning of life I believe that I may have to accept that there will inevitably be much discussion of God, faith and spirituality. If I am to delve much deeper into the research that others have conducted on this subject I will have to be open to considering these issues.

I plough on and seeing an entry for the meaning of life in the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy I decide that sinking my teeth into this little beut can be a prize for dipping my toes into entries that just wreak of spirituality and Yoda-speak...

And so http://aristotle.net/~diogenes/meaning1.htm. It doesn't seem quite as airy fairy as I feared and asks the surfer why they want to know the meaning of life, sending them to various other pages if they're (for example) depressed; keen to prove their intellectual prowess by disagreeing with whatever answers the site provides; or if they don't actually care about the meaning of life but were surfing the web and ended up there. For those who do not fall into any of these categories and are interested in exploring the meaning of existence four chapters follow.

The first chapter says that when we ask what life means we are really saying that we want to know what it's for. What purpose does it serve? I couldn't agree more - what the hell's it all about anyway?

It then uses two words that I had certainly not expected to find on such a page: scientific research. Indeed it says that scientific research provides much information about the link between consciousness and the brain but that it still cannot explain what consciousness is. (This is actually very interesting).

And then all of a sudden the discussion shifts onto what I consider less solid territory and claims that consciousness is a universal property of matter and that matter is a property of consciousness (I'm not too sure about this). In fact, it claims, matter sprang from consciousness and the big bang was caused by a word pinging around in some sort of mind and then exploding into the creation story. (Oh God, does this mean that myself and the entirety of my existence are the product of another being's or non-being's imagination - has my life been the daydream of a deity? Does he or she find this amusing?).

Onto chapter two, which can be summarized as: the first consciousness had lots of thoughts, each of these thoughts had more thoughts and so on and so forth. In order to allow all of the thoughts to have as many thoughts as they wanted to, the first guy created earth and all that we know as life - are you still with me?

Now it gets a bit hairy: 'We are still in contact with the original mind because we are made of it, we sprang from it, and because time has no meaning outside the physical universe, our past, present, and future exist together as an infinite vanity of possibilities within that larger moment'. Phew.

I must admit that I've always been a bit of a sucker for any discussion of the nature of time, I find it fascinating that time keeps ticking on, that we grow, change, age and that we accept that (if not the wrinkles and middle age spread) as a given. Not that I am suggesting that time can be halted, but perhaps the idea that time is a comic book through which we move, becoming conscious of one frame at a time does make some sense.

The essence of the third chapter is that we choose our own version of reality. The idea that we are in control of how we are each effected by what life throws up is something that I've been trying to get to grips with for some time. I am a great believer in the power of the mind, that said, I'm also very much conscious of the frailty of our mental health and I can't help thinking that madness is the greatest defense against the hardest of life's experiences. This begs the question - if you're not conscious of experiencing life or if you've allowed your brain to loose its grip on reality, can your life still have meaning? I would like to think that all lives are meaningful and have a purpose, even if we're never aware of having fulfilled this. Nevertheless, developing control of our mental faculties is certainly something to give greater thought to.

Finally, chapter four, which is entitled So What? This chapter states that life is a school that we should all learn from before we pass into larger realities and that the mistakes that we make here will not be held against us forever. It concludes by saying that developments in technology have resulted in alienation from ourselves and from each other and that we must each seek the truth within ourselves.

Oh dear, it's all gone very you-will-find-peace-in-the-trees-my-son-seek-the-truth. But I must open my mind a little... certainly, many of us have lost touch with nature and many others feel very isolated without the support of local communities, but we are also more free now to express ourselves in whatever way we wish than were past generations. Furthermore, technology has enabled us to communicate with new communities across far flung distances and to search for the meaning of life without getting out of bed. I would like to think that the developed world, while flawed, is not all bad and that you've got to work with what you're given.

The next search result provided by Google is themeaningoflife.org and because this is already a rather long post I will summarize very briefly the contents of this site. themeaningoflife.org claims to help us to understand the meaning of life by providing a 'generic template for the significant experiences that make each life unique'. This involves 44 aspects of human experience, from working to survive to finding mates, expelling waste (literally and metaphorically), failing, loving, losing, breaking rules, changing states of consciousness and opening to new depths. What I got from it more than anything else was a sense that life is a crazy mish-mosh of experiences, some good, some bad, that we can choose to learn from before we die and people remember who we were or what we left behind.

According to the site's creator, each week around 1500 people are attracted to the site, most of whom bounce off after reading the first few of the 44 aspects. About 100 people every week read all 44 entries. Clearly I'm not the only one searching for the meaning of life from my living room.

So, what have I learned so far?

a) if I'm going to get anywhere with this search I'm going to have to accept that this is a spiritual as much as a philosophical journey. This may involve reading spiritual texts or even discussing God or gods without wincing.

b) gaining control of one's mental faculties and developing the power of the mind to overcome adversity and gain greater enjoyment from life is positive and may lead to a more meaningful existence. To further this end I will begin once more to practice yoga, something that I had to give up several years ago due to injury and I might even (I'm not sure that I want to say this aloud, or even whisper it. I'm wincing again and this really has to stop) look into some form of meditation. (There I said it. Yikes.)

c) getting closer to nature may lead to a greater appreciation of life. I live in an apartment in the city so my efforts to involve myself with nature will have to begin by growing plants on my balcony, which I did do and enjoyed until they all drowned and I ran out of money to replace them - money can be found or cuttings made.

d) lots of similar stuff happens to most of us but each of us have different experiences. As this blog progresses I may have to go 'into the field' to speak to others about their own interpretations of the meaning of life and about what they think about the ramblings of others, which will be discussed in future posts.

e) cutting calories makes a monkey miserable.

The search begins

2010-01-04T01:37:00.000-08:00

This is a blog about the search for the meaning of life, how others through history have looked for that purpose and how I myself will attempt to find it.

I would like to begin by offering a little background about myself and the situation that I find myself in that has caused me to begin this search for meaning.

Like countless others I am not in a rush to get to the office this morning. Unlike many others I am partly responsible for the fact that I have no office to hurry to. In October 2008 I left my job to travel the world. This was not the first time that I had set off on a lengthy voyage of discovery and I hope that it will not be the last.

My decision to abandon what now seems like a perfectly good job, even after Lehman Brothers had collapsed and at a time when most of us knew that we would be subjected to many hard months ahead in economic terms, was motivated by a desire to live in the moment. What I mean by this is not that I wanted to abandon myself to a whirlwind of life threatening activities but rather that I wished to appreciate where I was in life and for a few months to stop striving to be allowed access to the next rung on the ladder of life.

Society has set us off on a crazy race, a bizarre chase from one goal to the next, education, onto the first rungs of the career ladder, into the maze of consumption that is western existence, rent, mortgages, marriage, babies, more education and on and on, as if we're dashing at full tilt towards some finish line at which point we will achieve that elusive goal: happiness. But if there is a finish line it is the only true inevitable - death.

Surely contentment must be found in the living, in the doing, because I don't believe for one moment that there is a magic formulation of achievements and experiences that, when taken together, will allow us to laze back on our laurels, gaze upon our works and be forever insulated from future worry or strife.

The tidal wave of life and time just keeps on rolling in, through us and past us, going and going until we're gone. If it is all a mad dash for the sake of dashing then what is the point? Why do we keep sprinting onwards?

It is ironic that my wish to call time led me to plan an eight month journey, much of which would be spent getting from one place to the next or planning how to get there, but at the time it seemed to make a lot of sense. And so I took off to flit about the globe from Namibia to New Zealand, Vanuatu to Vietnam, Hong Kong to India and when I returned I found myself unemployed and rather broke. Don't get me wrong, it was wonderful to fill my greedy eyes with new sight upon glorious new sight and to enjoy the feeling of sunshine on my skin and the freedom to go anywhere or stay anywhere that I landed (within the limits of visa regulations and my bank balance) but now that I have returned these experiences are not sufficient to sustain me and I am still searching.

Once the pressures to live within the confines of society's expectations seemed to be killing my appreciation of the joys of life, now not having the means to enjoy all that that society offers is having a very negative impact upon my mood.

Thus, I have decided to seek the elusive, subjective, perhaps impossible to find, meaning of life. I expect that this search will lead me to conclude one of several hypotheses.

1. The Beatles had it right and that 'All you need is love'.

2. The journey is the destination, or the search itself gives meaning.

3. There is no purpose, we are but collections of cells with the unfortunate ability to ponder our existence and the future masters of the earth will be simpler creatures born without this affliction.

4. Someone will eventually employ me and I will be sufficiently distracted to conclude that contributing to society infuses life with meaning, or at least I will write that I have concluded this as I no longer have the time and energy to continue searching for the meaning of my existence.

The search begins...