A Flipped View of Problems

A Flipped View of Problems

Sometimes, when you move far enough away from an issue, you can see it differently.  One time this happened was when I worked in aerospace, and I was on a flight home from a business trip.  Flying at 35,000 feet at night I felt “removed” from everything.  I wrote in my journal, and an idea emerged.

It seems that many (and perhaps all) problems contain the seeds of their own solution.  If you look deep enough into a problem, you will find clues.  At least these will tell you what not to do.  Knowing a problem well insures that you will not solve the wrong problem.  A really good problem will contain more than just some clues.  It literally contains a solution.  This problem will speak to the problem-solver and announce, “You can do this!”

Thus, there can develop between the problem and the problem-solver a relationship.  There are times that this relationship can be quite intimate.  In fact that is the key to the flipped view.

In the flipped view, the universe is populated by entities we call “problems”.  These entities are just floating around the universe, waiting to be solved.  What does a problem need in order for it to progress to solution?  It needs an “intelligent entity” to which it may attach itself.  When this attachment happens, then the problem has a chance to be solved.

So, you could ask, “Who is the agent behind a problem’s solution?”  In the flipped view, it is the “problem” that is riding the “intelligent entity”, much as a cowboy might ride a horse.

In the flipped view, I picture a kind of marriage happening between problem and solver.  Lucky is the problem that hitches itself to a capable solver.  That solver has intelligence and skills.  That solver is dedicated to solving a problem.  And, in a somewhat poetic sense, that solver loves his or her problem.

All this time while we humans self-aggrandize ourselves as God’s greatest creation, God is smiling at God’s best tool for moving a universe packed with problems into an ever more transformed state.  God is smiling because solved problems are satisfied on completing their eons long journeys.

Instrumental Directives

Bob Fiske

Instrumental Directives

Here is a little background, just to let you know how I arrived at this.  I was reading Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now for the second time.  I got up to the same chapter where I had stopped the first time—and I quit again.  It was driving me crazy!

Several days later, while visiting my parents, I went for a morning walk.  I needed to settle my brain, which was whirling around and around.  The brain, the intellect, does not submit easily to spiritual awakenings.  I walked, I grumbled, I asked, I moaned.  Why?  Why?  How does Tolle’s spiritual awakening help the world?  Why does this matter so much to me?  Why do I feel so alone?

Finally, a thought came that lent me some stability: What do you know?  I started to think about my writing and my journaling.  A picture was forming.  The picture was formed of words.  Not just any words, though.  Verbs!  Verbs flooded into my consciousness.

Verbs are important.  They represent action.  Moreover, a verb can stand for an entire sentence.  The shortest sentence is the imperative, the directive.  Run!  Jump!  Buy, buy, buy!

In fact, a well-chosen verb can stand for more than a sentence; it can stand for an idea.  Plant it, water it, explain it, and it starts to grow.  Yes, a verb can become an entire treatise, telling others why you chose it and what it means to you.

So, yes, these verbs began to paint a picture in my head.  It started with my deepest yearnings for humanity.  As I thought about it, I realized that my yearnings for humanity were not shared by most people.  At different stages of our adult lives, we choose where to focus our energies, what to call important.  So, I began to put myself into other people’s shoes.  The verbs began to arrange themselves into three “islands”.

The last island popped into my head, literally, as I stepped up to my parent’s front door.  No kidding!  I’m reaching into my pocket for the house key, and Bam!  The picture felt complete.  In the kitchen, I immediately grabbed some paper and sketched my work as a diagram.

Between then and now, I have thought about it and have “refined” it.  The three islands now have names and represent three levels of awareness and action.  Also, I polished some of the words.  The urge to look clean, I suppose.  For instance, the verb “conserve” was originally “use less”.  And, “replenish” was “give back”.  Maybe I should have left them alone, should not have tinkered with perfection.  Hah!

So here it is.  First the overview:

And now, the verb-y version:

Possibly, I am the only one to whom this is meaningful.  I guarantee you, that would not be the first time.  However, if you grasp this immediately—especially the earth directives—I would very much like to make your acquaintance.

With love,

Bob

Art Cries

(NOTE: This is a raw journal entry.  Some stones are unpolished.)

I brought chard to The Growing Experience (my CSA) and met J-Dream-Worker who says he will read my blog.  His schooling was in theater, and he’s starting to return toward his artistic self.  So, he’s hungry for all kinds of input.

I’ve started owning my thinking and my writing as my art, and I’m starting to own myself as an artist.  When you’re an artist you create because you have to.  There’s not much choice involved.  The pressure builds and stuff pours out.

Bangkok-Girl said something about my being an outside artist, kind of like the guy who built Watts Towers.  He worked in isolation and didn’t have the reward of public acclaim while he did his work.  She said this in response to my complaint that I’m getting tired of being insane: the feeling that I’m the only one who understands or cares about what I create.

I’ve been feeling very disconsolate lately.  Like, why bother?  I mean, I even asked her if she read myDawkins vs. Collins essay, and she admitted she read only a third of it, and then it seemed like a bunch of Matrix talk, so she skipped to the end.

Fuck it. I’m surrounded by idiots.  And they’re all so busy embracing the technology that is dumbing them down.  Assholes.

All this Facebook dreck where people post a picture and think they’ve made a meaningful statement.  They don’t know what it means to craft a personal thought.

A picture is not worth a thousand words.  A picture is the loss of a thousand words because someone plucked it off the shelf instead of growing it in the soil of her/his mind.  Where’s the effort?  The creativity?  The risk?  And, social networking tools perpetuate all this bullshit—pouring somebody else’s work into your info-stream.

So, I’m a lonely outside artist.  I guess I still have a responsibility to bring my art to the world.  That’s what it means to be in the world and do your work.  Once you come to know and accept your responsibility, then you’ve passed the point of no return.  There is no choice any more, no opportunity to agonize over should I or shouldn’t I.

You just know your work and do it.  Damn it.  God, are you laughing again?  I thought so.

 = = = = = = = =

I had a thought a couple of days ago.  It’s a little hard to recapture.  “You don’t yet know who you are.”  As if to say that I am tip-toeing around my purpose and my power and my use and my instrumentality.

And it makes me sad.  I feel so far away from the home I knew and the home I’m to make for myself.  Sad about all this work on my path, and seeing that I’ve barely begun.  I ask you, God, how many times must I walk this way before I get it right?  How many times must I live this life before I understand?  How many times around the track for my pitiful self to run into the conscious awareness of what I’m actually doing here?

These are the questions every grain of sand asks.