What Is Your Profession?

It seems that recently, I am running into more and more people who are tired of the “rat race” that is American life.  More people seem to be getting disillusioned with the idea that for the rest of their lives they are going to have to sell their time for money often doing things that they have little to no interest in.  Some of them are responding by starting their own businesses. Some are responding by taking more time off to be with their loved one and cultivating a que sera sera mindset. And some are spending more time doing creative endeavors in order to cultivate their talents.  The happiest people I know are people who have somehow managed to do all three at once. And the saddest are those people who have already given up and are just burying their heads until they get laid off or die. Then there are people like me who are stumbling their way through this life picking up clues as I go and shifting as necessary. Then of course there are also those people who just love making money for money’s sake.  They’ll be fine no matter what because frankly they aren’t thinking about any of this stuff I am talking about anyway, so there’s no conflict and they will always do whatever they have to do to survive–by hook or by crook.

Click for more images

So, If you watched the video, you know that the point I am trying to make in this post is that we become what we profess. While many of us think of our “profession” as our job, it more accurately has to do with the vows we make in life with our words, work, deeds, and our very being.  Even though most of us Americans seem to define ourselves by our jobs, very few of us give much thought to the fact that often we cease to be people, and rather, become extensions of our jobs. In essence we are slaves. Sure, you could say that we are free, but if we were really free we would know that we have a choice about whether or not or at least how we would like to participate in this people project that is our country.  But really how many of us feel free?  If we were free, we would profess that above other things.  And more of us would allow ourselves to cultivate the God given talents and gifts that each of us have.  But instead, most of us just do what we are advised to do by external sources.  We become such a big part of the production line that even our desires are manufactured.  I’m convinced that most of us don’t even really want the things we think we want or even like the things we say we like.  We have just been professing the status quo so much that we can’t tell what we really feel or desire. Maybe I’m wrong, but if I’m not and you want to shift, what can we do about it?  Well I think it all starts with imagination. Creating a world from within and then professing it without.

Recently I got to learn more about one of the parents from the bus stop where I drop off my daughter in the morning.  She happens to be an artist.  In our brief conversations, I was able to learn a little about the different types of art she does.  Her art is very eclectic and very thought provoking.  What really amazed me was that her work invited me into spaces I had never seen, because she created art that I would have never conceived of like the one above.  When I saw this picture and some of her other work, I felt this sense of relief.  I was just happy to see so many out of the box works.  It reminded me that within each of us is this infinite resource of creativity and imagination.  I look at my daughter and hr friends and remember that it is something that we are all born with and as youths we profess the limitless nature of our being.  But then one day we start professing that we are this or that and then the more we say it the more we become it.  After a while we forget how much more we are.  We profess, “I am a teacher, a parent, a divorcee, a home owner, a vacationer, a Pats Fan… yadda yadda yadda.”  And that’s it.  That’s all we seem to be.  But that’s not all we are. We are so much more.

Because I choose to experience myself as more, I am professing it to others that they are more.  I’m at the point where I don’t even care if anyone is listening. I am just going to profess it because I know that I will become whatever I profess–that is I will become the vows I make through my words, works, deeds, and very being.  I also know that if I hang out with other who are professing that they are more than the work they do or the roles they play, then this awareness will be even more established in me.  Does that make sense?  Well if so, reach out.  With all these forms of communication, there’s no excuse for more people willing to make this profession not connecting.

Choosing to Be Different? (More from the Bronies)

For the past couple of days I have been responding to the comments that I received from my previous post, Loving What You Love.  In doing so, I learned a lot more about the Bronies I wrote about.  People shared their thanks, links to videos, and valuable insights that challenged me.  Through engaging the Bronies, Brony parents, and even a few Brony detractors, I came to see how the fandom culture is much like any other culture that we are aware of.  They have their own music (see below), art, language and of course mythologies and values system.  And like any minority within a larger culture, they have those within the larger culture who tend to not be capable of appreciating what they offer.

For over a decade now I have been been consciously dedicated to mastering the ability to articulate the language of difference. It was when I was working at the NSA, that I first came across the Office of Diversity and Inclusion.  I was shocked that such an office existed. I began spending my breaks in the office reading magazines and books on the theories of the benefits of capitalizing on a diverse workforce.  The theories suggested that a more diverse workforce makes the workplace better, that there was more innovation, yadda yadda, yadda.  I totally bought into it.  This awareness seemed like an answer to my prayers.  After so many years of struggling to communicate cross-culturally, I was thrilled to know that there was actually a discipline that took this societal need seriously.  I was so excited that I enrolled in a Diversity training program and even tried to get a temporary transfer into the Office of Diversity with the hope that I could make a career change that would allow me to focus on helping people learn to appreciate difference.  When I finally got into recruiting several years ago I even worked on “Diversity Projects” with clients.  It was then that I discovered that for many people “Diversity and Inclusion” are just buzz words.

Maybe I am a little gungho when it comes to that idea, but what I found was that there are few people who can embrace difference.  Even when the difference or the change, is in their best interest or in the best interest of the planet, most people can’t do it because they are too afraid–we are too afraid.  I’ve watched people who cry inclusion be just as exclusive as anyone.  I know people who know what is like to be oppressed jump in line to oppress others.  And I’ve seen bleeding heart liberals marginalize the very people they say they stand up for. Now am I saying that truly open minded people have to accept everything indiscriminately?  No.  Of course not.  Am I saying that everyone should like each other and go around skipping and holding hands.  No. But what I am saying is that when we are shut down by fear then we don’t even have the chance to embrace anything–not even a better life or a better world.  One of the Bronies shared with me a secret to overcoming that fear.  He said that to embrace being different, all you have to is just find something that you value more than you value your own security.  I think that is awesome and goes perfectly with something the author of the book, The Four Agreements, don Miguel Ruiz said.  He teaches that “Death is not the biggest fear we have; our biggest fear is taking the risk to be alive – the risk to be alive and express what we really are.”

I think the thing I respect the most about the Bronies is that they are choosing to be different.  One of the commenters on the last post wrote, “Alot of my friends have asked me, why have I chosen to be a Brony? Why would I want to open myself up to the possible ridicule that comes with being apart of this fandom.” I think the answer is above.  She found something she valued more than her security and is willing to be alive and express what she really is.  How many of us wish we could do that in some other area of our lives, but are too afraid to step up.  I’m raising my hand.  But not for long.  I am not saying all of this because I am not afraid, but rather because in light of seeing others be unafraid, I realize that I have let myself become afraid.  After being different for so long, I got tired and started feeling like it would be easier to try fitting in.  But the truth is that it is great to be different.  We all are anyway.  When we choose to be different ultimately we are just making the choice to be who we are.  And as the Bronies have shown me, we give others the opportunity to be who they are as well.

I recommend really listening to the song below.  The lyrics are spot on and I think that if we look deep enough, we will find that we all wish we had the strength to live into the awareness the song calls up.

Loving What You Love (Lessons from the Bronies)

As I mentioned in the above video, I learned a thing or two from seeing adults, who were not accompanying children, at the showing of the My Little Pony: Equestria Girls movie at one of our local theaters.  When I saw how disappointed some of the people were when the tickets were sold out, I was perplexed at first.  I thought, “Isn’t this a kid’s show.  Doesn’t passage require a child? Why are these people on the verge of tears and some actually crying about not seeing this movie.”   Being a curious person when it comes to the phenomena of human relatibility, I wondered what drew these adults to MLP.  As we sat in the theater and watched the movie,  I understood a little more about this incredibly diverse subculture.

The older I get, the more I understand how hard it can be to be a human sometimes.  When I was child I was bullied a lot for being different.  Because I was of mixed heritage, short, and had an unusually long and difficult to pronounce name for my region of the country, I stood out.  I was also into books, which deemed me a nerd.  To top it all off I was into Jesus.  Add to that the dress clothes and briefcase I had as public school attire, and my very presence screamed, “Hey bullies punch me.” So I know what it is like to be different and to feel like no one can relate to you.  Sometimes I got sad, but for the most part I decided that it was awesome that I was who I was and I loved what I loved and that I didn’t need the group’s approval.  I almost preferred being alone.  Then one day some bullies were picking on one of my few friends–a kid named Ching.  Ching was from China and had lost a leg due to cancer.  Seeing them pick on him really pissed me off and I actually went a little nuts on a few kids and tried to hit them with one of Ching’s crutches.  It wasn’t my best day. But, after that incident, Ching and I got really cool.  It didn’t matter that he didn’t really speak English.  Besides both of us getting joked, we had one other thing in common–Transformers.  When we hung out Transformers were the thing that really united us.  It didn’t matter that we were different on the surface or that I had no clue what he was saying, we were just really cool together.  We bonded over a cartoon and a toy and it was across that bridge that we learned more about each other.  We related over what we love.

My Little Brony

Now mind it we were kids, but really when it comes down to it, what is the difference?  In this world of division where we find so many reasons not to relate to each other, I think it is worth honoring anything that brings people together–even if it is a cartoon that was intended for little girls.  These adult MLP fans–Bronies, as they are called–have found something that speaks to them and connects them to others.  I can’t hate on that.  I have to love it.  Besides, when you sit down and watch the show, you find that what they teach about friendship is actually pretty awesome.  I wish some of the kids in my neighborhood watched My Little Pony. And, I bet a lot of these Bronies feel the same way. I imagine that deep in these people’s hearts they know what friendship is supposed to be and then they see how people tend to treat each other in the world and they know that a kid’s cartoon is closer to the reality of what friendship can be than what most of us experience in our daily lives.

Everyday that I go through life I look for reasons to love when the world gives more attention to hating.  I look for unity when so many of us focus on separation.  I try to pour myself out even when fear says hold myself back.  I’m not going to lie, as much as I tried to stay open to people, I know that a few years ago I may have assumed that something was off with the Bronies.  But now I am thinking that there is nothing off about people looking for something that allows them to relate to others and express themselves.  What’s off is when we get convinced that there’s no place for us in this world. I mean, deep down isn’t that what we are all looking for–somewhere we belong and a place where we can love what we love?

To  be continued in my follow up post, Choosing to Be Different (More from the Bronies)

Check out the trailer for the documentary Bronies: The Extremely Unexpected Fans of My Little Pony

Finding the Fun in DysFUNction

The older I get the more I realize how many subconscious triggers are dwelling within me.  For the longest time I felt that because I consciously made certain decisions about how I responded to situations that that meant all of my actions were conscious, but I am beginning to suspect that isn’t so.  A good example is the one I used in a previous blog when I said that I taught myself to not have too many expectations after I felt severe disappointment when I mistook a vacuum cleaner salesman for my dad.  All in all I’d say that not holding people responsible for our expectations and stories is good advice, but I am beginning to think that something like not having expectations can be taken too far.  And if that is the case, I can honestly say that I don’t know what to do about it yet.  I actually enjoy my ability to drop my expectations of people.  But I find that some people want you to have expectations of them. And if you don’t, it can be interpreted as a lack of caring.  So what is a brick wall to do?  Well, the only thing I can think of is to do my best to add a little fun to my dysfunction–perhaps play hide and seek with my neurosis.  I don’t know.  But here are a few things that have come to my mind.

In reference to a mutual acquaintance, my good friend once said, “That girl doesn’t have issues.  She has subscriptions.”  I cracked up laughing when I heard it, but would I think it was just as funny if someone said the same thing about me?  Well, that’s the goal and I think I can pull it off.  I remember when I was in Basic Military Training and we were all doing push ups.  I was laughing my derriere off when some of my fellow airman fell down in piles after exhausting themselves on this exercise course.  We were ending with some push ups and these guys were on the ground pushing with all of their might.  But no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t get up.  They just lied there on the ground  squirming.  I got yelled at for laughing, but still I had this big grin on my face.  No wonder my nickname was Smiley.  Anyway, somebody called me a name and said I wouldn’t think it was so funny when it was my turn.  But it turned out they were wrong.  I thought it was just as funny for me to be a squirmy lump on the ground as it was to watch them.  It may have even been funnier, because I was flat out laughing as I was trying to lift my head and failing like I was a two week old baby.  It was a ridiculous scene.  My TI didn’t know what to do with me.

All that to say that if I could laugh at myself then, I can laugh at myself now.  I have a few things going for me, but clearly I don’t have it all figured out.  And who does?  As I like to point out to people who fall for that idea that we are all supposed to put on a fake perfect face to the world, “Uhh even Jesus had scars, so get over it”.  I mean no disrespect to Jesus at all.  I’m just stating what the Bible says.  If people can believe he was healed from the dead and yet still came back with the scars and wounds that proved he was who he said he was, why can’t we be healed or be in the process of healing while simultaneously being a little beat up?  Good question right?

Anyway, in my efforts to not let anything hold me down too long,  I am playing this new game with myself called “Pin the Tail on the Psychosis”.  I spin in circles and then run around blind trying to find out what’s up with me.  It’s really fun and I can’t lose.  No matter where I stick the pin I always land on something.  “Why don’t I like the color teal you ask?” Because I once liked this girl and tried to impress her with my teal and purple shirt that I picked out myself from the Goodwill.  Unfortunately the shirt collar had the initials of another kid in school who pointed out that it was once his shirt so the girl avoided me like I had the cooties.  See it’s easy.  Wanna play?  I can show you how.  And if for some reason you’re having trouble figuring out what’s wrong with you, don’t worry.  There’s another version of the game called “Project the Tail on the Psychosis”.  All you need is one other person who feels close enough to you to share their feelings with you.  In no time, they will be able to tell you everything that is wrong with you.  Hey, you can’t hog all of the fun. To get the most out of dysfunction you need to enlist a team.  You might even want a fantasy team made up of all of the people in the tabloids.  I got dibs on the Kardashians. OK OK OK.  Maybe I’m taking this a little far.  I doubt any of our issues or subscriptions are as important as famous people’s.  Our problem is that we don’t have their lives.  But they have to live with the fear that if they don’t stay relevant they may end up with our lives.  Talk about scary.  That’s enough to drive anyone crazy.

So what’s the point to this rant?  Well, I don’t need one.  The blog is called Seriously Tripping.  But if you need a point, it is this: “Don’t take yourself too seriously.”  I almost forgot that recently.  But by the grace of God, a good friend helped me remember me.  And me is a child of infinite creativity undefinable by any moment and always capable to take the raw materials of life to create any experience I choose.  I made the mistake of reading too much and started feeling trapped by some definitions I encountered.  I took a way at looking at a situation as “the Way” at looking at it.  But the fact is how we see things is a choice–even our so called dysfunctions.  So, the next time you catch yourself accepting a limiting story of who you are realize that if you do so, it is a choice.  And if you can’t talk yourself out of it find someone or pay someone who can.

Peace.

Speaking Off the Top of My Head

Where all the thinking happens.

This morning I was thinking about how I haven’t posted anything up here for a while, when my daughter came up and asked, “Dad, where is my unicorn?”  I responded, “Off the top of my head, I don’t know where it is.”  She then came back with, “I never said it was on top of your head.  It is somewhere in the house and I don’t know where it is.”  I immediately started laughing and then unsuccessfully tried to explain to her what the saying “Off the top of my head” means.  At five, these silly sayings adults have just didn’t make sense.  The only way I could think of explaining it was by using other words and sayings that make no sense to her.  So eventually I just gave up.

Even though we stopped talking about it, I kept thinking about how these sayings get into our personal lexicons in the first place. I mean, I don’t ever remember actually being taught what “off the top of my head” meant.  Somehow it just snuck into how I talk and now I know how to use it, but trying to explain it to my kid, I realized how ridiculous it could sound to someone who never heard it before.  That made me think about a lot of the other things that we say and the opinions we have that we take for granted as common knowledge.  Even when we speak the same language, like my daughter and I do, we don’t use the language the same way.  That being the case, think about all of the people who might use English as a second language.  They might be able to speak English, but they may very well think in a completely different language.  I say this from experience.  I have had the unique and strange opportunity to be around three different languages long enough to think in and dream in those languages and that doesn’t even include the street vernacular from my neighborhoods growing up.  I can tell you that each time I left those other environments, it took some work to get back to trying to express myself to someone who spoke only spoke “American” (joke).

With each deep exposure to the other languages and cultures, I almost started feeling like a completely different person than English speaking Pedro, because in every instance there was some uniqueness to the way the different cultures used language, that just could not be expressed in English.  And if you take into account the cultural meta-messages, then we are just expanding the variety exponentially.  The fact is that the greater percentage of our messages are generally expressed by what we don’t say.  That’s why when we say something that doesn’t make sense to the other person or people we are trying to communicate with like “off the top of my head”, there are infinite ways that they can get confused by what we mean–like what happened with my daughter.

All this to say that the fact that any of us ever know what another person is talking about is actually a miracle that we should not take for granted.  And more importantly when we realize that–besides being grateful when we do get what each other are trying to say–those of us who are interested in being a part of a community or world where we all get along better, should get that if there are miscommunications we shouldn’t take it personally, but rather should take responsibility for the world we want to be a part of and start trying to listen to others from their point of view–even if it makes us feel a little crazy at first.