meus intuitus

Archive for January 2013

ah yes, facebook

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I minimize thee.  Nobody will be allowed to post on my wall.  I will post no more things for people to comment on.  Why?  Because I do not like what Facebook does to me.  Some people may be able to handle the beast with more grace than I, but I am finding that Facebook turns me into a whore of self-promotion.  It’s like a drug—chasing these “likes.”  Fond are my Facebook memories of having over two dozen “likes” on a given post.  Often I say to myself, and I quote, “this is going to be an awesome profile picture, I am so happy.”  Indeed—so happy that I now have something “spectacular” to showcase to the world about how awesome my life, no, how awesome I am.  Look at me and all my artsy and thoughtful pictures.

Beyond what it does to me, I dislike what it does to us.  Old friends?  I don’t talk to them ever.  I “like” their crap, they “like” mine, and we subconsciously call that maintenance of our friendship.  Certainly, I am blessed to have friends legitimate enough that even without frequent catch-ups, we un-arduously “pick up where we left off” even after months without contact.  However, I am sick of the illusion of connection that Facebook sells.  I would rather have fewer “likes” and more phone calls, emails, even just messages on Facebook; I won’t dream of written letters though—a tad archaic, quite unwieldily, and possibly awkward.

I will not quit Facebook.  It has its uses and it is indeed a marvel of modern technology.  Magnificent for networking and connecting the previously easily disconnected.  It’s a fantastic medium for the sea of acquaintances in my (any) life.  Thus, I will keep it in a minimized form—one that enables me to remain connected to a degree, but one such that I no longer feel accountable to it.  I eagerly await any isolation that may come—for it will be impetus to call those I consider important to me instead of settling for dried husks of human interaction.

No offense intended—I consider none on here shallow by any means.  In all likelihood, my friends carry the mixed blessing of the Book of Faces better than I.  Only for I, for now, it has been too much of a curse.

On this day, Day 1, I feel good.  I feel a sense of… freedom.  I feel as though I am living less for the sake of some collective approval and more for the sake of my authentic self.

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January 29, 2013 at 7:07 pm

fathers and facebook

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I just called my dad.  We haven’t always had the greatest relationship—toxic during my childhood, really.  However, I am older and more understanding now; and he is older and more temperate.  We talked about the family, how people are doing, I told him about my recent dating life, he made awkward offers about subsidizing my housing so I can be more desirable to women.  Later, upon saying goodbye, I said “I love you.”  He said, “I love you more.  I’m really glad you called.”  I love you more… I had not heard those words in perhaps a decade.  “More” revealed to me an affectionate appreciation that had not been warranted in many years.  Through the divorce, through undergraduate, through a decade and a half of misunderstanding and hurt—from bickerings about visitation, to my having to endure hundreds of recountings of the divorce resentments, to his banishment from my university graduation because it would offend my mother—we have emerged.  “I love you more” was something said in my childhood years in those cherishable moments—moments where my childhood affection came free, untainted by years of emotional toxicity.  I have not been a good son.  Chiefly, I never call.  However, tonight, he felt appreciated, he felt acknowledged, he felt like my father.

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January 29, 2013 at 6:43 pm

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a ledge

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Well, it seems I have clawed my way back a bit from existential despair.  My anxiety is subdued, but I still harbor a a significant amount of misanthropy.  Such hate is of little value—more costly than valuable, in actuality.  I need to continue to cultivate appreciation for the people I encounter in life.  This time, my joy will not be out of unfulfillable idealization, but out of full complete acceptance—warts, interests even as they conflict with my deepest perspectives, and all.

Bitterness and cynicism are hardly marks of enlightened minds.  For all my ponderings, I am really not so unique a person after all.  Thus my return journey continues.

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January 24, 2013 at 9:04 am

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Initiative

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After getting some feedback, it seems that I have a bit to work on—I need to be more pro-active in the hospital.  I need to actively stay updated on patients, update my residents on patients, jump at the opportunity to see patients, go see patients anyway.  More “I’ll go do this…” instead of, “what can I do now?”  Overall I just need to try harder and stay more engaged instead of studying for my shelf exams.  Fair enough.

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January 18, 2013 at 2:27 pm

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a return

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I have spent four years of my life pondering, studying, meditating to free myself from illusion.  In doing so, my concerns and aspirations became ever less material and ever more fantastical—to reject anything and everything conceivable as a socially learned desire, to shun society in its entirety and wander the world, to make something of a social martyr of myself.  A calm suburban life?  Cocktails in the city?  Sports?  Interests of the ignorant, I spat.  I ceased meditating even.  It made me happy.  Happiness is the emotion of imbeciles.  Yet.  In devaluing all the things my brothers and sisters in this life value, I was left facing void, and my legs buckled before its dead and eternal stare.

Then I felt in myself…  Hate…  for everything; and misery.  Such is not the way.  Such is not Dao.

Now begins a new leg of my spiritual journey.  Now, I turn around—un-turning my back from the illusions.  Now, my journey will not be one of hate, rejection, and contempt, but of love, acceptance, and appreciation.  A single step back.  Thus I begin.

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January 5, 2013 at 2:56 pm

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good sushi

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Had some good sushi today.  I’ve decided.  My favorite fish is red snapper.

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January 3, 2013 at 6:13 pm

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darkest before the dawn

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For the past few weeks, I have struggled with an existential depression.  Upon beginning winter break, losing the constant distraction of medical training, I found myself contemplating the absurdity of existence.  With spending leisure time in the hectic city of NYC and subsequently the decadent prison of a Cancun resort, I found myself deep within a dark night of the soul.  Purpose.  Illusion.  Meaning.  I felt as though I was bearing the entirety of humanity’s ignorance and life’s emptiness.

Yet turmoil is a sign of progress—or perhaps a catalyst for it.  In the last few days, when I could scarcely bear the lunacy of existence any longer, I found some wisdom:  Acceptance.  I must learn to accept everything—even the illusions.  I must accept that there will be moments where the pendulum of awakening swings from bliss to despair.  However, I can take comfort in the fact that just beyond the seemingly impregnable wall of despair…  is peace.  I live in a world of illusions and questionable meanings.  I live in a world of great darkness, exploitation, and pain.  I live in a world of imperfection.  Human interaction is imperfect, the meanings we ascribe to life are imperfect, any work we can do will be imperfect (psychiatry, while beneficial to many, can not help everyone and will certainly hurt others).  Even the earthly manifestation of our saving grace, Love, is imperfect.  However, the Love is real.

In extrapolation, while greater compatibilities make the task easier, life is not about finding those and doing what I love.  Life is about finding the love in whatever people and work I have.

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January 1, 2013 at 8:27 pm

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