Perception is personal (and consequently, not negotiable)

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The last few days are pockmarked with examples proving without a doubt that perception is personal. Some of them affecting me personally, some not. All jarring, nonetheless.

Time and again a perception disconnect has played out. Involving situations of multiple points of views of such stark contrast, delivered with such absolute conviction, it tugs at my belief the Universe wants to make damned sure I've learned this lesson: individual opinion is personal, based on the whole of a life time of experiences and current thinking processes.

I am greatly influenced by and quite aware of this disconnect. This is that place in conversations and relationships where differing strongly-held opinions are so utterly contrasting that both parties are left scratching their heads in wonder. Questions like How could anyone possibly look at the evidence and see it any other way? and Who in their right minds, after all that has been said and done, could believe otherwise? populate thoughts.

I find exploring the answer to these questions powerful writing fodder. But that's prose, what I make up. In real life, I find disconnected perceptions a terrible burden. They make my heart race and my hackles raise. Realizing I'm not on the same page as another person, sometimes not even the same book written in a language I comprehend, is a nightmare.

I would prefer it if petty conflict was passe and bitter smallness was a curable disease, but it's not. I imagine I would be much more open to letting naturally insensitive creatures into my life if I could assure at least the resemblance of decorum, but I cannot.

What I can do, however, is limit the amount of petty conflict, bitter smallness and insensitive creatures in my life. And yes, I can write about it. I can work through the shifting intricacies of disconnected personal perceptions in my stories. I can refuse to take part in "going there" when pressed repeatedly to explain the reasoning behind my convictions, maybe in the hopes that I'll change my mind. And I can remind myself that an opposing view has just as much a right to exist as mine, even if I am undoubtedly sure mine is the "right" view.

In the construction of the storyline running through my current project, I find I am always thinking of this conflict. It almost feels I've manifested these recent real-life examples of personal perception disconnects to help me write the pieces that go in it, to help give me insight into the complexities of the relationships between people, to help me be a better writer and person. But it sucks, really sucks, when these complexities and disconnects threaten my world despite my best efforts.

So to the Universe I say this: it is my contention that this disconnect, this illusion of what is truth and what is fiction, is already a central theme in my life. I am quite aware of it, I study it, I live it. Therefore, I recommend the Universe drop the shovel, and step away from the hole. I'd like to move on to other life lessons, please. Perhaps in the way of learning to feel peaceful for long periods of time. I could use some of that.

Let's go steady!

Not scared? Then you're doing it wrong

"If it isn't frightening, it's not worth doing."

I was ruminating with Ed Borasky (@znmeb) about that old adage yesterday at Beer and Blog. We sat at the bar together, I drank the lovely dark stout @pdxflaneur bought me, Ed ate his aromatic clam chowder, and we discussed how the things we choose to do in life, the things that influence pivotal changes and pregnant possibilities, are often the scariest experiences in life.

Ed is a superincrediblytalented math guy who specializes in open source performance testing software. He likes to optimize things for efficiency and discuss the future of semantic Web, and his real first name is Maurice. (He's also available for hire, so if you're looking for a superincrediblytalented math guy you should go check him out).

Talking to Ed makes me feel smart-ish, because I can work in smart-ish phrases when I talk to him: "Profiling Ruby is soooo 21st Century" and "Done with that paper on algorithmic composition and synthesis of music yet?" for instance.

Quite honestly I'm not sure what he's getting out of our chats, but he's very nice to indulge me when the topic is the art of being human.

The byword If it isn't frightening, it's not worth doing is similar to other, familiar Life in a Nutshell versions I live by. That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger and If it's hard it must be good for you are themes I know well, as a writer and a human. I weave them into my stories, and I live and breathe them. I'm betting you do, too.

And I try to do scary things, every single day. I stretch my personal boundaries and talk to strangers, acting like that's no big deal. I blindly trust in my capabilities and capacity for being the best, most awesome me I can be. I am also working on the biggest, most personal media project of my life. The kind that solicits reactions from friends and strangers praising my bravery and questioning my sanity.

It's not bravery. It may be insanity. But always It is frightening, and therefore worth doing.

No matter how loud my instinctive personality kicks and screams, of course preferring I NOT do these frightening things, I still do it. My instinct tells me it's necessary to plunder through. Even though I am not a risk-taker by any means. Even if I am not a fan of surprises, and need mental preparation for spontaneous acts of "winging it" (which isn't really winging it, FINE). I do it anyway.

But still, I want to live a life of rewarding personal fulfillment, not have life be what happens when I'm busy doing other stuff.

What kind of "life" is that?

If you're not taking chances once in a while -- really going for it, scaring yourself with the fierce desire to follow through -- then you're doing it wrong. Life deserves better from you.

Go, start, now. You'll be so glad you did. I know I am already, no matter what happens.

Let's go steady!