The Process
It has been suggested to me by a friend, that every one of us has a lesson to learn in life. To be sure, there are many lessons to learn in life, but this person being a Buddhist, was referring to some sort of karmic lesson as an over all theme for each of our lives. Knowing me reasonably well, my friend believes that my lesson is to learn in this life is that everything is a process. Although I’m not sure that I completely buy in to the whole re-incarnation theory (nor do I disbelieve in it entirely) I do agree that we learn about life along the way, and there are certain lessons each of us may need to learn more desperately than others. Perhaps some lives are spent searching for what those lessons are. Sadly, all to many lives are spent ignoring the lessons completely. In so far as my friend’s analysis of my own lesson plan may only be speculative, I have considered it to be a fairly reasonable synopsis, but perhaps not exactly accurate or completely descriptive.
I think that a more accurate title for my lesson plan would be “How to accept the implications and situations which arise from the knowledge that everything is a process”.
Certainly one can intellectualize that most everything is in some way or another indeed a process. Observations do support this. That’s the easy part. But once you have established that, a lengthy series of questions can obviously be asked. What is the process? Where does it begin? How does it work? What are the steps in this process? How many steps are there? What preparation do they require? What materials? How long will it take? What will be the result (if any)? Where am I in this process? What do I do NOW?
Each question may have numerous or even innumerous answers, each leading to more questions in and endless branching tree of possibilities, the complexity of which will result in consequences for the individual that span a broad range of human responses, from excitement and exhilaration to frustration and despair. At first glance the process can be seen as a grand challenge, an opportunity for growth, or a vehicle for some form of personal advancement. For a while this may appear to be a good thing. Each small success leads to a slightly larger challenge, as the complexity of the process becomes more evident. With each successive challenge also comes more risk; more invested, more at stake. Somewhere along the way the returns for each effort in the process become inversely proportional, risking more and more for less and less gained. Each step in the process develops a level of complexity that requires it to have it’s own “process”. Now the process is no longer a joyful opportunity but has become a chore. There are wheels spinning within wheels, and some of the small imperfections, which may have been overlooked, or let slide, begin to throw the process off balance, leading to backtracking, and seemingly endless revisions, or even total failure. At best this will be frustrating or discouraging, and could even lead to complete abandonment of the process.
At this point continued determination requires so much concentrated effort that objectivity becomes impossible. Eventually the complexity becomes so great that is it barely discernable from total chaos. Random or even irrational choices are made and rationalized in a desperate effort just to get the damn thing done.
Then, at last, it is done. And it’s good, or at least good enough. Stepping back those imperfections and random choices are no longer problems but features, even charming ones. And the minutia of the process has long since faded from memory. But still, it could be better, couldn’t it? Wouldn’t it be better if there had been a plan?
But there is no plan. There is no beginning. There is no system to make it work. There are no steps. If there were you wouldn’t be ready to take them anyway. It will take as long as it takes for you to get there. Get where? Right back where you started!
All this loquacious process just to arrive at the simple conclusion:
Where you are going is how you get there.
I think that a more accurate title for my lesson plan would be “How to accept the implications and situations which arise from the knowledge that everything is a process”.
Certainly one can intellectualize that most everything is in some way or another indeed a process. Observations do support this. That’s the easy part. But once you have established that, a lengthy series of questions can obviously be asked. What is the process? Where does it begin? How does it work? What are the steps in this process? How many steps are there? What preparation do they require? What materials? How long will it take? What will be the result (if any)? Where am I in this process? What do I do NOW?
Each question may have numerous or even innumerous answers, each leading to more questions in and endless branching tree of possibilities, the complexity of which will result in consequences for the individual that span a broad range of human responses, from excitement and exhilaration to frustration and despair. At first glance the process can be seen as a grand challenge, an opportunity for growth, or a vehicle for some form of personal advancement. For a while this may appear to be a good thing. Each small success leads to a slightly larger challenge, as the complexity of the process becomes more evident. With each successive challenge also comes more risk; more invested, more at stake. Somewhere along the way the returns for each effort in the process become inversely proportional, risking more and more for less and less gained. Each step in the process develops a level of complexity that requires it to have it’s own “process”. Now the process is no longer a joyful opportunity but has become a chore. There are wheels spinning within wheels, and some of the small imperfections, which may have been overlooked, or let slide, begin to throw the process off balance, leading to backtracking, and seemingly endless revisions, or even total failure. At best this will be frustrating or discouraging, and could even lead to complete abandonment of the process.
At this point continued determination requires so much concentrated effort that objectivity becomes impossible. Eventually the complexity becomes so great that is it barely discernable from total chaos. Random or even irrational choices are made and rationalized in a desperate effort just to get the damn thing done.
Then, at last, it is done. And it’s good, or at least good enough. Stepping back those imperfections and random choices are no longer problems but features, even charming ones. And the minutia of the process has long since faded from memory. But still, it could be better, couldn’t it? Wouldn’t it be better if there had been a plan?
But there is no plan. There is no beginning. There is no system to make it work. There are no steps. If there were you wouldn’t be ready to take them anyway. It will take as long as it takes for you to get there. Get where? Right back where you started!
All this loquacious process just to arrive at the simple conclusion:
Where you are going is how you get there.
posted by Umour Ritual Specialists at 2:55 AM
4 Comments:
WOW, U.R.S....excellent post.
In my own life engagement in "the process" came down to the almost pure animal desire to break out of repeated patterns that were causing me pain and misery again and again and again.
And as I looked around, I found that, despite all the chaos and craziness and reasons-to-be-cynical, there was at the core of all this a quiet almost logic to it all, and that if I simply surrendered to this logic in trust and faith, then I might find my way past these issues.
Whether that's 'objectively' true or not I can't say, but I think in a worst-case situation that logic is indeed "there", but it may actually be a reflection of some part deep within myself that I need to keep focused on, and that will eventually impart a retroactive logic to the external chaos.
In other words, being true to the process causes the process to become intelligent.
Ah forget all that...toss me a beer!
One word, Em: "PROST!"
WHAT THE HECK IS 'PROST'?!!
And yes, I have heard it, dammit, and that clarifies nothing!
In an effort to clarify Em’s query for our readers: I sent Em an MP3 of a track I recorded during my work as the house recording engineer at a studio in Dallas, TX many years ago. The title of the track is “Ein Prosit!” which is a traditional German toast, which loosely translates to “Here’s mud in your eye!”
Any readers interested in hearing the track are welcome to write in a request.
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