A Fall & A Swim

We woke up at 7:15 and made our way to the pick up point: Africana Hotel. We got picked up by the "Adrift" bus, a white water rafting company, and departed Kampala for Jinja - the source of the Nile. Yassin was our organizer.

Yassin: So once we get off the bus, you'll get suited up and from there form into groups of 8-9. Remember, you have two options: Mild or Wild... Don't be a sissy.

I glanced at Silvia grinning, we clearly had no intention of being "sissies." As Yassin hyped up the excitement and ferocity of the River - including how at one point you can potentially drop off a 10-foot waterfall, on a Class 5 river rapid - Silvia and I turned to each other. "No need to worry" I told her "we have nothing to fear but fear itself!"

I immediately regretted that.

Pulling into the Adrift camp site, I eyed the devilish structure coming into view: with wooden stairs leading up it, the crane like structure extended out over the cliff face toward the opposite bank. The Nile, at least 100 yards below, passed sleepily under the platform.

Silvia: Oh look, Bungee Jumping! That'd be so much fun, wanna see if we can do it?
Me: ... I don't know if we'll have time.
Silvia: Yeah, you're probably right. Shame though.

We got off the bus and wandered down to get briefed. We we're early. Silvia asked if we'd have time to jump. The [] represent my thoughts:

Coordinator: Shouldn't be a problem, let me see if you can cut to the front. [... wonderful]
(He radioed the man on the bridge.)
Coordinator: Yeah, be quick though.
Silvia: Bryan let's go! ["Please God No!"?]
Me: Um... I dunno if I have enough money [I did]
Silvia: That's okay, I'll pay for you! [Damn you Silvia!]

In the end, I could find no rational reason why I shouldn't jump. But even though my mind was still racing for a reason why to protest, there was one thought that rose above all the others: if I didn't do this, I would regret it for the rest of the day - which I had already payed $125 for.

Me: Let me get my money.

*****************************************************************************

A few minutes later the time had come to destroy the hypocrite. Sitting in a chair, I got my legs bound and secured and then I stood up. I hopped forward, staring directly at Silvia as the bridge extended behind her, and then turned left facing the jump point.

Jump Supervisor: Now, I want you to baby step to the edge and stop when your toes are over the edge. Then place your hands above you and hold onto the roof. When I say let now, drop your hands to your side. From there I'm going to count down from three. When I say jump, I want you to jump as far as you can toward that yellow arrow we've painted for you on top of the restaurant & bar.

Jump Supervisor: "Now"

It was a beautiful panorama. A perfectly sunny day with the Nile flowing causally beneath me and green extending to either side of her. I dropped my hands to my sides.

Jump Supervisor: 3

I tore my gaze away from the scene and looked at the stupid yellow arrow. What a dumb color I thought. I lowered my gaze to the crowd of people gathering to watch everyone who jumps... or chickens out. At least 40 pairs, I calculated. My mind was trying to tell me something when I was rudely interrupted.

Jump Supervisor: 2

My Mind: Bryan, you do realize that this will be the most illogical thing I've ever done for you?
Me: You already know I'm fully aware of that.

Jump Supervisor: 1

I looked down.
It was necessary.
I grasped how far I was allowing gravity to take me.
Everything was peaceful.
Calm.
Silent.
Then not so silent...

Jump Supervisor: Jump!

My mind played for me a recent memory: "no need to worry" I told her "we have nothing to fear but fear itself."

My legs bent, and I pushed off to dangle with fate.

Expectations

On the coast of Sinai, I came to realize something about expectations.

The roots of my revelation began while I was sitting at the Bedouin lounge of the Penguin Resort in Dahab, sharing one last sheesha with two of my friends - Nickoli & Adam - before they left for Luxor later that night. While smoking mango tobacco in front of a relaxing view, we invited over and befriended two Americans and one Australian nearby. The three hour talk that ensured was one of the best talks I've had in my life; full of contemplation, philosophical reflection, and laughter it covered a broad range of subjects from the cosmos and physics to quality snorkeling spots not far away. One of which was Blue Hole, a nearby snorkeling spot we had visited only a day before. Nickoli had actually been there twice, biking the first time and catching a ride with us the next. Her exact words about the bike ride were, "it's not too bad." Eric, Nate and Silvia all agreed they'd save some money and give it a shot tomorrow. Eventually Adam and Nickoli said their farewells and left to catch their bus. A couple of hours later I said goodnight as well. Eric asked me some final logistics about their day trip tomorrow. He asked me how long of a ride it was...

Here I fudged up (an "uh-oh" if you will) for my experience of getting there was not by bike - but by car. I told him 25 minutes...

So my friends rented some bikes, and set off for their destination with certain expectations I had helped foster. Only, what they experienced in reality was drastically different from the what they imagined it to be. The bike ride did not take them 25 minutes, it took them 90. The bike ride, on top of that, was undertaken in the worst Egyptian conditions possible: during the hottest part of the day, with one bottle of water, and covering vast rocky and hilly terrain. Eric was also in flip-flops. Needless to say, it was a bike ride from Hell. In Silvia's version of the story, for example, she told me how Eric at one point hissed, "I'm going to kill him. I'm going to fucking kill him." Thankfully, he never did.

Our imaginations are incredibly powerful, maybe more so than we are fully aware. The visions we conjure up in anticipation of an event - especially one we look forward too - of how we desire the situation to unfold can be so vivid (and are often replayed in our minds to the point where they crystallize) that it's no surprise we are almost never satisfied when these fantasies fail to live up to the high standards we expect of reality. Too often have I experienced something which I had expected to be better. My solution is this: limit expectations, and embrace the now.

If we expect less, or lower those standards, we will be pleasantly surprised more. And only when we embrace the fact that only the present exists can we stop ourselves from living in the illusions of our minds and no longer force ourselves to suffer in these situations we originally expected more from.

Now let it be clear, while it may seem so I'm not trying to justify my mistake in misleading my friends into the barren land of the Devil. That was definitely my "b." That said, maybe the next time we find ourselves in those situations where we are disappointed, we can suffer a bit less and even salvage a bit of pleasure in the simple act of acknowledging "the suck" for what it is:

Reality.

Facebook: Extending it's Social Networking Boundaries to the Past

I had an interesting encounter with Facebook the other day. As I left a wall post on a friend's page I saw her quiz results for a random Facebook quiz called, "What Greek Philosopher are you?" She's Socrates, lucky bastard. Who am I, I thought? Could I too be the legendary Socrates?Or am I Plato? Or maybe Aristotle? Naturally, I hoped for one of Ancient Greek philosophy's legendary three musketeers. A sucker for the subject, I gave it a shot. While I found the question & answer survey horribly disappointing (ex: You are LEAST likely to spend time: [A] with anything unproductive [B] with art [C] with work [D] with getting too focused on one thing [E] with video games [F] with religion) the results genuinely surprised me.

I am Epicurus.

Epicurus was a hedonist. He believed in living life in a manner that made you most happy. Pursuing the pleasurable would ultimately push you toward the ultimate goal of aponia, or absence of fear and pain. This absence of pain was most important because when we cease to suffer we are no longer in need of pleasure. He believed in living a life in this middle state of satiation and tranquility that was free of the fear of death.

Agreeing with my Facebook match, I believe that when we die we do not feel the pain of death because we no longer exist and therefore feel nothing: when we exist death is not, and when death exists we are not. All sensation and consciousness ends with death and therefore in death there is neither pleasure nor pain. He also believed that death brought the end to our body and soul (strangely this was the thesis of my last post exactly) but that this should not be the cause of fear, but invigoration. Our days are numbered: use each day to pursue your pleasures but don't fear the repercussions of whatever these actions may be because the gods simply do not and will not reward or punish you for your actions in death. It's important to note, he also warned how overindulgence can bring pain.

Now, you may be asking what about those who may desire a darker pleasure? Adolf Hitler, Siaka Stevens, or Osama Bin Laden for example?

Epicurus statement of the Ethic of Reciprocity as the foundation of ethics is the earliest in Ancient Greece and differed in the traditional sense by Epicurus emphasizing that if we harm ourselves and others less we can further maximize our happiness. It's the golden rule: treat others as you yourself would like to be treated. His school was also the first of the ancient Greek philosophical schools to admit women as a rule rather than an exception. Epic work Epicurus! These perspectives also later inspired thinkers of the French Revolution, including John Locke, who eventually inspired my founding fathers.

Epicurus also insisted that we should believe nothing except that which can be tested through direct observation and logical deduction. I believe seeing is believing and our ability to reason is one of mankind's most essential tools for reaching understanding: that said, some things are still a mystery.

He believed in a self-sufficient way of life surrounded by friends. In addition, he believed that the universe was infinite and eternal and that every event that occurs is ultimately based on the motions and interactions of atoms moving in empty space but which can occasionally exhibit a clinamen, or swerve (Wikipedia does wonders). It's a fancy description that he believed in atomism, but also free will.

What intrigues me most about the Epicurus living inside of me, however, is not any specific views he has been credited with, but rather the philosopher's lack of credit: of Epicurus's 300 written works, only a few fragments and letters remain. To me, this simple fact about Epicurus brews in me a stronger link to the man than any of the views he supposedly held in life. For in this mystery I relate to an uncertainty of never being able to validate my own thoughts with permanent conviction. In the end, I accept I know nothing.

Facebook got it wrong, I'm totally a Socrates.

Do Souls Exist?

Every person's Soul is unique to that individual and differs from one to another. But what is it? To me, souls are the essence of who we are as individuals. But who we are as individuals is based on our own experiences we have with the world. So do humans have souls? The thought has pondered me for some time. I have come to the conclusion that humans do possess souls, but that they cease to exist once we die.

Basically, I believe our souls develop within our lifetime from our exposure to the world. To break it down further, we develop our "essence" through our sensory interactions in life. What makes souls so distinct from one another correlates to the fact that every human lives a life unlike any other human. We all have unique experiences and perceive them in our own way. Thus as no two humans can have the same life, no two humans can have the same soul.

Aristotle disagreed with Plato's notion that we are born with innate ideas. He argued against Plato's Theory of Ideas by posing the following dilemma: how could anyone know what the "idea" (or perfect) chicken looks like if they have never seen a chicken before? Aristotle believed that we form these "idea" chickens, or so forth, only after we have been introduced to them. So how could we be born with an innate idea of a Soul if we don't know what a Soul is until someone else has introduced us to the concept? We can't. Therefore our notions of a Soul must be formed during our lifetimes, not before them.

Now, imagine a cow is standing right next to you as you read this blog post. You can see it has brown fur with white spots, for example, and in addition does not smell pleasant. Just to be sure you reach out. You can feel its bristly fur. It is a real cow. Now, this cow's existence can be broken down into two categories. Form and substance. The cow's "form" is the specific characteristics of the creature we use to classify it as a cow. One characteristic, for example, would be that cows are mammals. After all, they produce milk and give birth to live offspring. Humans are also mammals. The cow's "substance" on the other hand is what the creature is physically composed of, or its body. Now keeping that specific cow in mind, imagine that all of sudden it kneels over and dies. The cow's body is there but it can no longer move. It can no longer produce milk or give birth; it is no longer a mammal, but simply a corpse. While its substance still exists, the cow's form does not. Without a form, is there any meaning left in substance aside from the memory invoked by those who witness its familiar features? This is why I believe our Souls can only prevail when both our form and substance coincide together.

Nothing lives forever, neither cows nor humans can escape this inevitable fate. When we die, just like any other species, we will loose our form. We will no longer be a mammals, we will no longer be able to produce milk or procreate. We will also no longer have a Soul. This theory - however - does not take away from humanity, but rather bestows more value to each human life. Take limited edition Legos for example. Each limited edition Lego set could be described as having two different types of building blocks. The first are the universal pieces; the basic building blocks necessary to form the foundations of the box's potential structures (see figure 1). The second type of building blocks, however, are distinctly different. These are the pieces unique to your particular limited edition set. Without them the box would be void of any individuality. Such as the battlement on top of a castle tower (see figure 2), or a friggin' sweet futuristic-looking window. These pieces dazzle the imagination with a fresh and creative look that you take delight in knowing... are all yours. But as we all know, limited editions don't last forever.

So while our days with our Souls are numbered, we should embrace their "limited edition" life-span and make the most of our essence while we still have 'em. For as I'm sure everyone agrees, its one of the saddest things in the world when Legos disappear.


Figure 1: The standard four hump, one row Lego block.

[ o o o o ]


Figure 2: The not-so-standard battlement of a Lego tower.
_ _ _ _
II_II_II_II
\ ______ /

Potential

Like most of life's deep discussions, they arise out of the most unexpected of places. In this case, it was a glass of Hawaiian punch & Bacardi Razz. Petro and I sat on the couch of the Nassfarm's front porch and enjoyed our spacious view of the Plastic Factory with an occasional breeze making it's way up the brown and white steps. Chillin' aint easy. It's hard to trace how our talk began because of the numerous tangents our conversation held. Unfortunately, most were lost to memory - but you know what they say - survival of the fittest. And I think I got a keeper. After two hours of chaotic wisdomizing, Petro and I came to the following theory:

1) Potential is unlimited

It's simple. Nothing extraordinary. But a radical revelation in my quest for understanding. Before today, I had never contemplated "potential" in such a manner. I had heard a lot of thing about potential, but never questioned it myself. It reminded me, strangely, of the elementary school epoch: hearing and timidly accepting the rumors about Poe as true while never daring to confront him directly. Luckily I'm now a freshmen in college, and have finally puckered up enough courage to confront Poe directly.


He told me some strive for perfection, but the reality is that that perfection will never be reached. He told me to tell you, however, that this doesn't mean it shouldn't be striven for. Don't worry, I had the same reaction:

"But Poe, if we can never reach our true potential as humans, why should I even bother trying?

The man (You should see Poe now, he looks drastically different!) gave me the following response. He told me the reason why "I should bother" is because if we do strive to reach our potential, while it may not be obtainable in the literal sense, we ultimately push ourselves harder to exceed those limits and in the process can reach further than we thought possible. I learned a lot from Poe and Petro. They taught me a valuable lesson: while we can become better, we can't become "the best," simply because there will always be room for improvement.

But the realization has sparked in me grave contemplation, for what other truths about my childhood friends have I blindly accepted? Aiy, how the world is so much easier to understand when you're in the fourth grade.