Absolutely Life Changing for Some of Them...

I've been reading some news articles about the people who died or nearly died in a Sweat Lodge ceremony.

The quick version: People paid about $9,000 for a weeklong spiritual retreat promised to "absolutely change your life." They fasted, then ate some breakfast and packed into a sweat lodge for a couple hours.

(Think native american sauna, a place to be spiritually purified, typically a group of a dozen or fewer)

The space was 415 square feet, 53 inches tall at the center and about 30 around the edges. Hot rocks were brought in and water was dumped on them to fill the space with hot steam. Apparently sandalwood incense was included as well. Normally, these are made with all natural materials, and the some of that steam can escape. This one was covered in plastic tarps.

Then 55-65 people spent a couple of hours in it.

So, figure the roof supports were probably fairly straight, giving a cone like roof more than a domed one. To make the math easier, let's average the 53 and 30 inch figures, and get an average roof height of about 3.5 feet. That gets us about 1450 cubic feet. Divide that by just 55 people, and you've got about 26 cubic feet per person. That's not quite a three foot cube per person. And that's without allowing the space above the hot rocks. Presumably nobody was sitting on those. Fully packed at 65 people, you've got just 22 cubic feet each, or about 2x2x5.5, which is probably a little small by coffin standards.

Would you seal yourself in a plastic wrapped coffin in a sauna for two hours?

So after a couple of hours people start collapsing. That's a lot of people competing for oxygen, for one. Two die, others suffer from burns (probably from falling on said hot rocks), dehydration, oh and kidney failure.

These were healthy people. Surfers and yoga enthusiasts. How much does it take to dehydrate someone to the point of kidney damage (let alone failure) in two hours?! Eep.

Now, having spent my weekend at something of a spiritual retreat myself, the subject came up Saturday morning.

People, you don't have to spend big money to change your lives. Heck, my total cost including gas and food was only about $300.

One major topic we covered was when you're working for someone else spiritually you have to seriously consider what kind of vested interests you have in the client, or the work. One of them had at one point had to stop accepting any kind of payment for his work, because the need for money became a vested interest. If you had 65 people paying you $9,000 or more for an experience, do you think you could remain at all dispassionate about trying to give them a $594,000 experience? (And don't you think you could afford better than plastic tarps, but I'm just sayin'...)

I'm sure he's a great guy. I'm sure he's passionate about helping people change their lives. Some of those people will never be the same, that's certainly true. I'm not gonna talk more about him because I honestly know very little about him.

But whenever you are asking someone to help you, with anything, ask yourself what their vested interests might be. Are they in your best interests, or theirs? I think that will tell you a lot.

The Odds Weren't Good to Begin With

I got home from work to find a mouse in the garage. He was breathing, but not moving. Too soundly sleeping to be "just sleeping" after the noise of the garage door.

We grabbed a container and gently scooped him up. I transferred him to a little vivarium (glass lizard cage) from when we had little anoles in the motorhome. At first he nipped at me a little out of fear. Not enough to break skin, but I washed it very thoroughly anyway.

I set up some water and a little dish of seeds, in case we could get him eating.

The odds weren't good to begin with, I knew. But I figured I'd try, in case he could be nursed back to health. Maybe he was just hungry and thirsty.

I did get him to drink a little water from an eye dropper. He did try to eat one of the small seeds. But along the way I noticed blood coming out the back of him. Just a little. But the fact that there was any at all pretty much confirmed it. I kept giving him tiny bits of water, just trying to make him comfortable. He didn't seem in pain, just tired.

Jareth was finishing a bath, and Kayla was upstairs playing when the end came. He started thrashing about a little, and I knew it was time. I scooped him up gently. There was no resistance, no biting. It didn't even seem like pain, just a little last bit of fight left. He coughed up a little bit of blood and then he was still. He stopped his little breaths. I petted his head one last time and set him back down gently.

The kids took it well. They were disappointed. They'd hoped he'd get better and be a pet. But I explained that he was just too hurt. We talked a little bit about how plants die, and I compost them to make dirt to feed the plants in the garden, and that animals die, too. I told them Amy and I would put the mouse outside somewhere nice, and that the mouse would also become dirt and bring life to the flowers in the yard. Then he would be something else. They both suggested that he'd be a mouse again next time around, and they both hoped he would stay away from garages next time.

Amy is still off at the school, learning about what Jareth's days are going to be like as a first grader. The first graders will have a class pet. I wonder if it'll be a mouse. Whatever it is, I wonder if Jareth will end up asking the teacher if maybe it was a mouse once.

The Only Thing We Have to Fear Is... Change?

People fear change. Okay, nothing new or newsworthy there. But why do we fear change?

There is so much debate about national healthcare these days. Or maybe not enough debate, depending on who you ask. There's the camp that's afraid of the status quo, and the camp that's afraid of change. Maybe an oversimplification, but bear with me.

I don't think I need to argue too much that something has to change. Clearly the status quo isn't working. But what about all the fear of change?

The insurance companies are afraid their going to lose their monopoly-driven huge profits. Okay, that one's probably valid. I hope it is.

Some people are afraid they'll end up losing their current coverage. I can see that market forces might take some of those plans off the market. My hunch is that the ones that go away are the ones that don't actually work that well anyway.

Some survey has been quoted claiming something like 90% of people are happy with their current plans. I don't believe that. Now, if 90% of people said their current plan was "better than no plan at all"...that I'd accept. If I told you you could have the same benefits at half the cost, would you keep your current plan?

The more I start thinking about the fear of change I wonder, what is it we're really afraid of?

I think the fear of change thing is a little backward from what people probably think at first. Sure, there is always going to be some uncertainty about what's coming. But I don't think that's "it."

Any time you exchange something for something newer, you might get something newer or better, but you probably have to get rid of the old. And we build attachments to things. I have a basement and a garage that testifies to that. We don't let go of things easily. So changing jobs, for example, becomes scary. Not because we don't know what to expect of the new job, but rather because we're used to the old one, and changing jobs means walking away from the old, familiar one. Even if it sucks, it's familiar, and it means letting it go. We're attached.

So, you get sick. You have insurance, and the doctor helps you get better. Not that he spends enough time to make sure everything is taken care of. Not that he follows up afterwards to see if the treatment worked. Not that he remembers a month later that you were sick (not without checking your chart first, anyway). But, the end result was you got better. Good thing you had insurance, you tell yourself. Now your brain is a sneaky little thing built to survive. It's got some outdated habits for that. Your brain decides you got better because you had insurance. If you lose your insurance, you'll get sick and die. Can't let that happen! So you think about changing insurance plans. Now your brain jumps in. "Hey, you can't do that. If you lose your current insurance plan you'll get sick and die." Since your brain controls other stuff, it triggers some chemicals. (It'll do whatever it takes to win, so chemical warfare certainly isn't out of the question.) You feel fear. Your heart races. You decide to keep your coverage as it is, and the fear subsides. You've survived. Think about changing again and your brain will remind you what happened last time. You don't want to die, after all, right?

Your brain doesn't get that the new plan will be better. Trading a car, switching houses, throwing out that old comfortable sweater that doesn't fit anymore... they're all hard because their about letting go of something we're attached to.

Basically, everything in our lives either raises our energy and adds to our life...or weighs us down. Not just the things we own. Not just the boxes of knicknacks we never unpack. Ideas. Beliefs. Habits. Jobs. Even insurance plans.

A new shiny car can give us enjoyment on a long commute. But sometimes it's just a stressor. You have to insure it. You have to take care of it. The more attached you get to it the more you find yourself fearing hailstorms, and the dents and dings of parking lots. If you're someone who lives in a crowded downtown area, dents and scratches and such might be a fact of life. If you spend more time worrying about those things than enjoying the car then it isn't an uplifting ride anymore, is it? Suddenly, letting go of the expensive car (and its payments) and having a simpler car you don't have to stress about might make sense. If you can get past the attachment.

How about fear of job interviews? Is that something that adds anything positive to my life? No. It's an obstacle. One I should get rid of.

Do your religious beliefs help you, or stress you out and hold you down? Your habits? Video game time--does it enhance your life, or is it just escapism? For some Facebook is a boon, for others it's not. Everything in your life can be evaluated in that simple way. Does it add to your energy, or lower it? Every physical, mental, or emotional possession. Every friendship.

You can't move forward much if you're dragging along a lot of deadweight and anchors. Cast off the ones that hold you back! What are you getting out of a fear of dancing, for example? What benefits come from not pursuing a new career path? Maybe there are some. Maybe not. But you don't know until you start looking. Dig deep. Introspect a little. It might be scary at first. Your brain might resist. "Oh, we can't possibly let go of that!" You might find freedom and peace. What could be so bad about that?

Post Every Couple of Months, Whether There's Something to Say or Not...

I feel like a bad blogger. No, I guess that's not quite true. I don't really think of myself as a blogger. I don't dedicate time to updating it.

Maybe I should. Maybe as a writer I should be keeping it current. Hell, I don't even keep my Facebook page current.

I have thrown a couple little things on here. Like the note at the top that comments are broken. I also added a link on the side to Sara King's web site. I recently read her in-develpment Outer Bounds manuscript. I loved it. Good stuff. It seems she's written quite a bit else, too. I'll have to check that out. Maybe that'll help me stay focused on getting something done of my own.

I need to ask my wife to help me switch this blog from MovableType to WordPress. I can admit I'm not up to trying it myself. She's done it once or twice already. But she has other, more important things she should be spending her time on. On top of that, I'll probably end up with a much more basic template for the blog, without the top banner. That's actually delayed me changing anything, because I really like that top banner.

I have recently written a short story. It's about 2700 words. About five pages single-spaced. It needs polishing yet, but I need to let it sit a couple days before I can really start plowing through it making sure each word is carrying its weight and bringing the right impact. Maybe I'll post it when it's done. We'll see. If you want to read it and give me your thoughts, let me know. There's an email link on the left.

It's Not a Vice... It's a Versa. My Observations if not Quite a Review

With my car in the shop, I've taken advantage of a free five-day rental car. So today is day four of driving a black Nissan Versa sedan owned by Enterprise.

The Versa is a highly practical car. "Practical" was pretty much my first impression, and still sums the car up well.

But it was not long at all on day one that I made the realization that this car has no soul. This was a car designed with a fair amount of thought, but without any passion. Nothing about the car feels inspired or inspiring.

There are a bunch of little details, although several of them just barely miss the mark. The seats are very comfortable, but not lull-you-to-sleep, lazy buy comfy. They're just right for driving in, but too narrow to feel at home in. The seat recline lever is on the right of the seat bottom, because the seat is too close to the door for you to reach the left side. The gas fill is on the wrong side, too.

There are cupholders for everyone, but the front ones are in front of the shift lever and down most of the way to the floor. You have to lean forward and reach down to reach even a tall mug in them. But they have notches in them to accomodate a mug with handles. (One handle would have to face forward and one rear if you had too, they're in a spot to narrow for them to actually sit side-by-side, so they're staggered.)

Acceleration is fairly smooth, but not by any means aggressive. The suspension keeps things nice on bumpy roads, but there's a vibration in the wheel above 65 on the tollway. There isn't quite as much lean as it feels like at first in corners. The car's center of gravity is lower than yours, so you'll lean a little more than the car.

There's a little window in the front pillar ahead of the side mirrors. There are even defroster slots for those little windows. Not that you can really see anything useful through them anyway.

The seat position is nice and high in the car without pushing you into the roof. Visibility is great in every direction. The hood and trunk are both positioned so that they can't block visibility. The only thing you see outside is... outside. The irritating downside to that is that there is absolutely no visual reference for where the car ends. It's somewhere past the windows, but you can't tell where. It makes everything else feel closer to you than it probably is. Or maybe further away than it really is. Flip a coin and cross your fingers when you park.

The stereo is easy to use and in just the right spot. The radio reception isn't what it should be, and the speakers are crisp and clean until you get to a song you like and turn it up. Then they're underwhelming and disappointing.

Fuel economy is supposed to be about 30mpg, but I haven't been able to test that. It's range is clearly shorter than my Celica's. It probably has a smaller tank, and I'm averaging about 35mpg in the Celica.

The car is pretty quiet, even at highway speed. Until you have to accelerate hard, when it gives you that little "do I have to?" whine from a 4-cylinder engine that could use another 25 HP.

The car was probably very popular with the focus groups that must have played a part in its creation. Then again, the focus group participants probably only got to drive a couple of miles in it. So the Versa is a car that admits you can't please everyone, but does a good job of not offending anyone. It's inexpensive without seeming chinsy. Although the dashboard is clearly hard plastic that's supposed to look nicer than it is. It's practical, there's no denying that. The Versa could be a great first car, that reliable car that gets you through getting to college and back and lasts with you.

You can fall in love with the practicality of the car...but you won't fall in love with the car.

Determination

Writing is such a different thing than the other things I've done professionally.

Okay, to be fair, I can hardly call my writing anything resembling professional. But that's the point.

Most of my working career has been very task-oriented. Come in to work at a set time, and there's a pile of to-do list. Take a task, finish it, put it somewhere else, and grab the next one.

Recently, as an analyst, there are some reports I run that are still tasks. But there are now longer-arcing projects. Those are the things that can't get done in one afternoon. Some of them can be divided into steps, which become little tasks of their own. But it isn't like I work on it 'til it's done and then just cross it off a list.

And then there's writing.

Now, I have this long-standing tradition of starting these big, ambitious projects. All too often, Generally, I'll get to the really complicated part and then a new project/idea comes along, and I launch into that one. I leave a trail of partial-project carnage in my wake.

Naturally, therefore, I have a stack of book ideas, some with more progress than others. Some are just a file folder with a few pages of notes. Some include partial chapters and disks of note files. One has about 2/3rds or so of a first draft.

And then there's the current book. I wrote an entire first draft for it. Then a reasonably serious flaw got pointed out, and I set it aside, temporarily daunted.

But I'm back to it now. Sure, I could pick an easier one to come back to. That 2/3rds first draft is one or two main point-of-view perspectives. I think I have a reasonably complete outline for it. I understand the characters, the motives, the conflicts that drive the plot.

But no, not yet. Maybe that'll be next. I have...three or so that I'm looking forward to starting next.

The current one gets intimidating at times. In the current revision process it has grown from three point-of-view characters to six (one of which I'm already thinking might get removed in the next round of revisions). That makes the whole thing more complicated. Before, there was one character arc that didn't get a complete ending. Now I have to add in two more endings and fit them into the same overall story.

I've been taking the revisions one character at a time, for the most part. I've started with the characters added in. They get smaller shares of page space than some of the others. I'm nearly done with the third and final addition. Just a few chapters to go.

The main two characters I might have to re-write together some. They're a bit interwined, and they're also going face some large changes. It's a lot to keep track of.

The next step, then will be to put the chapters back into book sequence so I can read it straight through. Then I'll go through it again, in sequence this time. I'll have to make sure chapters transition nicely. I'll have to check pacing. I'll re-evaluate each character arc to make sure they achieve what they need to.

Only after that will I start the real polishing and proofreading. All that for a book that a lot of people would suggest I not try as the first one to publish. But even if it doesn't end up the first one I send out to agents/publishers, I can't afford to set it aside half done. That's a cycle I can't afford to leave unbroken.

So that's where things are at. Long way to go. I'll never finish it if I don't keep making progress. Find/make time. Avoid distractions. Focus. Take it in manageable steps. But at the end I'll have something I can be hugely satisfied with. Then I'll start over again with a new book. There is one idea for a long series that is far more ambitious. Yeah, I'm not starting that one next...

No Child Left Behind--But Where Are They Going?

I got into one of those dangerous-at-work conversations: Education. Okay, sure, it isn't generally lumped in with the Big Three topics, but still. It's something I feel very strongly about. That's all the red flag you need at work. Mind you, I stayed civil and vague and caught myself before ranting. (So I might as well do it here, eh?)

He wants his kids to go to public schools. It's not about cost. It's not about wanting to avoid anything religious. It's not even really about the prestige of the school. He wants them to excel at standardized tests.

He doesn't want his child Left Behind. But it's more than just that.

Here's some of his reasoning:

College admissions are heavily influenced by test scores. The people he recently went to college with (Masters Degree in Information Systems) seemed to succeed or fail based on whether they had mastered multiple choice questions. During his college years, he has witnessed a virtual disappearance of essay questions--replaced by multiple choice, standardized tests. ((I did hold back my suggestion that maybe he encountered a lot of idiots at college because the college admissions staff were just looking for students with high test scores...)

He recently had to re-take his driver's license test. He failed it the first time. There were no questions about turning into a skid, for example, but rote memorization questions like, "How much is the fine for parking in a handicapped space?" He seemed pretty sure that was the one question he failed the test by.

He feels strongly that in today's world, in order to succeed and get ahead, you have to know how to memorize, repeat, and score well on standardized tests.

(Maybe on our tax forms we'll just have to fill in the circles? Wouldn't that be so much simpler?)

He has even had trouble getting jobs because of his degree. Master's Degree, less experience and in today's job market? "Overqualified." He took the degree off his resume and suddenly started getting interviews.

All this paints a picture for him of the world his children are growing up in. He wants to prepare them for it. Can't blame him for that.

So I hid my horror. At least I think I did. I hope I did. But it was there, as real and cold and unavoidable as the omnipresent overcast gray sky outside.

And just as horrifying, I could understand how he could see the world like that. I couldn't argue that the world of today looks any different than that.

And yet (at least I really hope), that isn't the world my children will live in. Today is just now. It's the world of ten to twenty years from now that the children of today need to be ready for. I'm pretty sure it will be a very different world than the one we have today.

I'm pretty sure that world will need innovators, problem-solvers, creative thinkers, and articulate expressors--people who can have a unique new vision and be able to manifest it, people who can collaborate in a team and genuinely lead, not just manage people. I don't think that rote learning and standardized test skills will have a lot to do with that...