Green Oasis

[This is a continuation of my experiment in gratitude.]

1. I am grateful for my parents and the things that they taught me. My own experiences as a parent have taught me that parents can only do their best and hope that their children can improve on their upbringing. Though at first appearance I have rejected their most cherished teachings, the truth is that I follow pretty closely in my parents’ footsteps, and I’m happy with where I’m going.
2. I have not always made the most of my opportunities for education, but I am grateful nonetheless for the investment that my community has made in me. I love learning. It’s one of my favorite pastimes. It is gratifying to contemplate how different my life could have been.
3. I am thankful for cloudy days. Unremitting sunshine can be oppressive. Clouds turn me inward in a brooding, nostalgic meditation. In moderation, it’s good for my soul.
4. I am grateful for the view out of my window. I work in a cubicle, but if I ever feel disconnected from the world around me, I can turn my head 90° to the left and daydream out 12 foot windows with a view on greenery and campus wildlife.
5. I am thankful to be human. My greatest pleasures would be impossible if I weren’t human. I am sure that I would have other desires if I weren’t human, but I wouldn’t be me either. I enjoy my place in the universe.

I read Yoshikawa’s Musashi when I was younger. The tale of the brash young samurai seeking to perfect his skill and himself influenced a lot of my thought. Am I a human or an animal? The movie Musashi Miyamoto reminded me of the book. I liked it.

Even though the idea of an ethnic homeland has caused untold suffering, I connect with Matisyahu’s song Jerusalem. Jerusalem represents for me the promised land of human destiny, the ideal human community for which I hope. May I never forget that goal, or may my right hand forget what it’s supposed to do.

Here’s more proof that being rich ≠ happiness. It seems like human beings are not being human unless they’ve found some reason to be miserable at least some of the time. We’re not cut out to be perpetually happy.

(via kottke.org)

Atul Gawande wrote a fascinating article for the New Yorker. It’s premise is that most of our perceptions come not from direct experience of the world but from memory. In other words, very little information is coming to us from the world outside our skull. Our minds are fudging the rest based on past experience. Using case studies of amputees who still perceive sensations in their missing limb and a woman who itched so persistently that she scratched… well I won’t spoil the story.

(via kottke.org)

Update: Dr. Ramachandran explains some of these same phenomena.