"Your Dream Stinks - I was Talking to Her"

Did you know that the phrase "curiosity killed the cat" comprises only the first half of the complete idea: 

"Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back."

It expresses the idea that the inane pursuit of something curious might consume the pursuer, but if said pursuer can satisfy his curiosity, it was worth his while. I'm sure folks like Marie Curie, Thomas Edison, Ben Franklin, (and more modern examples such as:) Tim Ferriss, Brene Brown, and Mike Rowe can testify in favor of pursuing curiosity.

I have a confession, dear reader. There exists within me a bit of a contradiction in terms. I am fully in favor of the pursuit of curiosity. I am also fully opposed to instructing people to follow their dreams or passions or whathaveyou. Once my mind wrested these statements from the depths of my subconscious biases, I sought to reconcile them. So here we have it:

Three Differences between "Curiosity" and "Dreams" in a Wavering Attempt to Prove that my Opinions are not Simply Semantics

1. A Difference of Kind - a pursuit of curiosity begins with a question, whereas a pursuit of one's dream or passion begins with the answer. 

There are two questions that you should be asking right now, and that I am going to attempt to answer: is that true, and if so, why on earth does it matter?

I think it's true (obviously). Whenever the sensation of "curiosity" occurs within me, it occurs because I have noticed something that I cannot explain, and prompts a question. How does a bird, larger than my cat, weigh only a fraction of her weight ... and why? Curiosity prompts me to investigate and learn that everything about a bird is designed to be light so that it can fly. Most notably, their bones are strengthened by a lattice so that they can be mostly hollow, yet remain strong. 

A dream skips the "why" and the "how" and moves directly to the "what." 

I have dreams like you, no really! Says Flynn Rider,

Just much less touchy-feely.

They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny.

On an island that I own -

Tanned and rested and alone, 

Surrounded by enormous piles of money!

That, my friends, is a dream. He's passionate about warmth, sun, solitude, and money. Some are passionate about music and wish to become musicians. Others are passionate about writing and dream to be come writes. Passion for art, food, politics, medicine, acting cause people to dream about becoming artists, chefs (or critics), politicians, doctors, and actors. All perfectly reasonable professions to aspire to, but an answer and not a question.

The next two points hold the key to why the distinction between question and answer is important.

2. A Difference of Orientation - curiosity turns a person's focus outwards and causes him or her to pay attention to the real world, whereas a dream pulls it inwards; a person's dreams or passions may align with the real world, but they also might not. 

To pursue curiosity means that there is a tangible basis for a person's investigation because something in the real world must have prompted it. Because dreams simply presume an answer, there is no room for a real world check upon the dream. 

Once upon a time, philosophers were a highly sought-after commodity and could earn a living that way. In our time, philosophers usually end up working in another field to pay for their academic loans. There just isn't the demand. 

That says nothing about philosophy itself, by the way. A good friend of mine is a philosophy major at a well respected school, with no intent of going into "philosophy" as a career. He finds it a subject worthy of study because curiosity leads him to ask questions about the world that philosophy can answer. He believes that it teaches him the skills of critical thinking, careful analysis, diplomacy, and discretion that will serve him well in his intended field of practice: law. 

Ultimately I think that it is a good quality in a person when he or she knows what they like and what they want to do with their lives. However, generally those people are also able to evaluate honestly how to achieve those goals, and whether or not they are realistic. The unfortunate aspect of the phrase "follow your dreams" is that it does not take into account whether those dreams are prudent, beneficial, or even attainable. So we find ourselves in the unfortunate situation of the bald guy from Tangled who helped Rapunzel and Flynn Rider escape from the tavern:

Go, live your dream! We say to the talented neurosurgeon.

I will. Replies the aspiring Philosopher.

Your dream stinks. We say. I was talking to her.

Yet even the fact that we really have to cherry-pick carefully with this phrase would be less harmful if not for the third distinction between a curious mind and a dreamer.

3. A Difference of Connotation - the context in which we use these two phrases tends to differ wildly. "Follow your dreams" / "Do what you're passionate about" tends to apply to careers. Meanwhile, "be curious" rarely has anything to do with the profession a person chooses. 

To illustrate the harm that a "passionate" person can do when passion is all that matters, I present The Anecdote of the Painters:

Scene: a painting crew arrives at my house and begins work on several projects in order to prepare the house for sale. 

Actors: My Mother (an incredibly patient woman), the Painter (aggravating in the extreme), and Me. 

My mother is the director of the whole affair. The lead painter on the project, for some reason, insists upon droning on about how customer service is the most important part of any job, while consistently screwing up the job. Then he disregards my mother's attempts to point out where he has messed up. 

All of this, however, takes place in the most passive aggressive manner possible. In our most recent interaction, he took it upon himself to wax eloquent on how "following your passion" is the most important thing in life. Indeed, that's all that really matters! I later informed my mother that listening to that drivel without retort required the most strenuous exercise of self-restraint that I had undergone in more than a year. 

Recall, dear reader, what you have heard mothers always teach their children: if you haven't anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. In the face of that painter, I fulfilled the adage to perfection. In the face of a blog with no accountability, I break it with glee.

The pursuit of passion or of your dreams might have no inherent issues. But left unaccompanied by competency, quality, communication skills, humility, and a healthy respect for the wishes and opinions of other human beings - especially the ones whom you would call customers - will leave your credibility as broken as your lofty, but unfulfilled dreams. 

Because curiosity does not presume the answer, because curiosity must take stock of the world as it exists, and because curiosity does not imply a career choice in modern vernacular, it is a pursuit that requires no "caution" sign. 

I don't wish to disregard passion, because I do believe that it is important to enjoy what you do. I think that passion actually contributes to competency and quality and all those other attributes necessary to create a good product or a good service. 

If you still wish, my dear reader, to follow your dreams, then do so! But I beg you, temper your passion with all the things that accompany curiosity: if you must presume the answer, then also ask the question how am I to get there? Evaluate your destination within the realm of the real world: is there a demand for what your passion would produce? If so, as in medicine, then fantastic! Turn your dream into a career and Godspeed to you. If not, then do as my philosophy-major friend and remove your passion from the context of a career. Instead, use your career to fund your passion. If you recognize that the job that pays well, but may not be your "dream," funds whatever your dream actually is, you may find more fulfillment in your career than you originally thought. 

So, with regards to passion and your dreams, I desire to repeat the under-appreciated, yet ever-esteemed Mike Rowe: don't follow your passion, but always bring it with you.

Best wishes,

Nicole

Midweek Crisis

It's Thursday and I miss church.

I miss worshiping among a group of Christians.

I miss hearing the word of the Lord spoken by one of his ministers, surrounded by people who also hang on His grace.

I miss that environment. Christian fellowship becomes such an important part of growing in the faith, and when I'm not in an environment that prioritizes Him, I miss it. In some sense everyone, even we introverted types ('though we'll never admit it), are all "people" persons. We all to some degree find connection with like-minded individuals (the benefits of healthy debate notwithstanding) edifying.

I'm so grateful that the Author, Renewer, and Finisher of our faith built in such a beautiful component of human life into the process of life as a Christian.

Right now, I'm missing it.

Best wishes,
Nicole

A Lesson from Junior High

Junior high students love to be worthy of pity. I remember, as a 7th grader, having this baffling realization that we all were jostling one another for the highest, unofficial title of "most worthy of pity." I remember wondering why on earth we were doing this. Why am I doing this? The weirdest part was that we weren't seeking actual pity; as soon as someone expressed something like "wow, I'm so sorry this is happening to you. I'm glad I don't have to go through that" it was no longer desirable. In high school, and even college, it became a battle to demonstrate to one another how little we slept, which, as a functional insomniac, I readily engaged in.

I didn't notice it so much among my friends at college, but I did read a recent article, written by a college student, that pointed out the pervasiveness of the "busy-ness" competition: "Oh? You think your schedule's bad? Just wait 'til you hear mine."

This trend among youth is just a trickle down effect of a Nietzschean idea that might be called the glorification of a victim. (By the way, when I say Nietzschean, I mean that Nietzsche talked about it, not that he advocated it).

Here's the thesis: Everyone wants to be considered a victim, not because we enjoy suffering, but because it is the easiest way to being considered a hero.

Implicit in the word "victim" is the idea that an individual is suffering, has endured suffering, or died because he or she suffered. The Latin word victima (from which we receive our English derivative) referred to an object used for sacrifice; usually this was an animal, though in some particularly dark circumstances it could be a human being. Generally, we use victim to mean someone who suffers: Victims of serious crimes all the way down to victims of busy schedules have, in some way, been subjected to suffering.

Heroes are a different matter. In classical Greek myth, a hero was term used for a mortal man of great ability with divine parentage--a demigod--and especially one who had benefited mankind. Heracles (also known by his Roman name, Hercules), who notably saved cities from terrible monsters, is a prime example of this. In Homer's era, it became a term used to refer to warriors as a whole (those strong men who protected the city), which we have some remnant of in our cultural term war hero. Nowadays, however, it is best preserved in the ever-popular superhero.

Heroes, like victims, certainly suffer, but they suffer on behalf of someone else (and usually to save that person, or persons, from suffering) not because they find themselves persecuted in particular. It is a different kind of suffering. Still implicit in that definition of even a comic book superhero is the idea of someone suffering so that another might not. A victim endures suffering, a hero saves a victim, or potential victim, from suffering.

These days the status of a victim and the status of a hero have become functionally the same thing. We see this in the way people talk about victims of gun violence, victims of oppression, and victims of discrimination. We talk about them as if they are heroes simply because they suffered.

I do want to clarify that victims and heroes are not mutually exclusive: the mother who lost her child because a drunk driver hit her car, who then works to ensure that the amount of drunk drivers on the road is reduced, certainly is both a victim and a hero. The boy who grew up in poverty because of poor parental choices and lives his life with intelligence, frugality, and wisdom to ensure that his children do not go through the same things is also a victim and a hero. Their suffering makes them victims, their actions to prevent others from suffering the way they did makes them heroes. The two categories are not mutually exclusive, but they are not the same thing.

I'm about to say something rather controversial and potentially offensive, and I want to preface it with this caveat: we need to remember victims; we need to recognize their suffering and deal justice where we can. We have a duty to every victim of true injustice.

Nevertheless, we should not glorify them. Why? Because we need to preserve the difference between a victim and a hero. If every victim automatically becomes a hero, then our culture is encouraging its people to accentuate their own suffering in order to be noticed. Where, then, is the encouragement to act in order to alleviate the sufferings of others? Is that the kind of culture we want to create?

To the Christians: We are told to act like Christ. He certainly suffered, but he did so willingly, and at the hands of those he intended to save. He is the ultimate hero and we are called to act like him. But the culture of glorifying victimhood in the place of heroes is killing that attempt.

So here's the conclusion: we must give justice to the victim. That is the duty of a civil society created for the protection of its citizenry's wellbeing and safety. To the hero we must give honor in order to create a civil society that encourages self-sacrifice and virtue. But we must not confuse the two, or else poor, misled junior high students all over the country will continue to believe themselves heroes simply because they feel like they're suffering.

Best wishes,
Nicole

10 Totally Subjective Facts of Dubious Verity Regarding the New Star Wars

Spoiler free, I promise.

1. I enjoyed watching the movie, but probably won't watch it again.
2. The plot is totally recycled from all the other movies.
3. There are no plot twists.
4. People who tell you there are plot twists lied, or have never seen the other movies.
5. LENSE FLARES. OH MY WORD JJ ABRAMS. GET A NEW EFFECT.
6. Light sabers are still cool, and still completely ridiculous weapons against blasters. Seriously; ever heard the phrase "don't bring a knife to a gun fight"? This is basically the space-age version of that saying.
7. My automatic reaction to "May the Force be with you" is still "and with thy spirit"
8. I would say something like the books were better, but there aren't really any books so... 
9. Gollum.
10. The droids are still the best part.

Confessions of a Web Designer

The brain loves immediate cause-and-effect processes. To act with a specific purpose, and immediately see that purposed result creates an almost addictive reward. Web design, I think, is in certain instances the most satisfying version of this instantaneous reward process, and in others is the most frustrating.

For example, in my web design efforts, I've updated a page on the back end of the site and within seconds, see my changes on the refreshed page.

I've also totally and irrevocably broken a website by a seemingly innocent line of code.

So I undo my changes.

And it's still broken.

I grit my teeth and try something new. Which doesn't work.

So I try a different thing.

Still nothing.

Again and again and again for hours I try things, none of which restore my lost site.

Finally, I redo the initial (and most logical) fix that I'd tried when I had first discovered the break. And sometimes it works.

Sometimes I end up doing the same thing over and over again and then, randomly, it'll work.

There was a specific instance where my employer wanted a simple change to a piece of media on the site. Now, media tends to be a bit more complicated, because there are generally three connections that need to be made in order for the correct image to be displayed, but it's still usually pretty simple. But not in this case! I removed the original image, uploaded the new one, and linked it to the page and the whole site crashed. To this day I don't know what I did. All I know is that I had a couple mini heart attacks and several massive panic attacks on my friend's dorm room floor. It took me four hours to rebuild the crashed site; I didn't lose everything, but a good deal of the structure went down.

To be entirely fair, it was almost certainly 100% user error. I'm not trained in computer science and much of what I know is self-taught using the "sink or swim" method (maybe in this case, it's "sync or swim" ... no? Not funny? Okay... I'll stop). It was still frustrating beyond belief.

One of my favorite things about being a web designer is that I know how much effort goes into certain pages. I have a particular page on my website that took me hours. It's really simple, unassuming, and non-abrasive, but I know how much work that took me. Looking at it still brings me a sense of satisfaction.

Then there are those moments when you're trying to use your site as a user, for once, and not as a developer.

I work for my school's marketing department, and part of that means that I manage certain school-affiliated websites. One of these hosts student summaries of great books written throughout history. Usually, I test the site for functionality; I haven't really looked at adding certain (perhaps obvious) features. Well, not until recently.

I was talking over coffee with a friend about a book she had received as an early Christmas present. Neither of us had read it, but I recognized it from this site, so I pulled it up and looked for the entry about this book. At this point, I realized that the website didn't have a search function. I repeat: an archival website doesn't have a search bar. What kind of IDIOT designed that?!

Oh.

Right.

That would be me.

Oops.

Tomorrow morning, guess what's first on the agenda? Yep: I'm adding a search bar.

To sum up: This web designer has a great job and an incredible lack of common sense! Hurray!

Merry Christmas, my friends.
Best wishes,
Nicole

13 Totally Subjective but Definitely True Facts about the Lord of the Rings Soundtrack

1. Howard Shore composed the whole thing for both the Lord of the Rings proper and the Hobbit movies.
2. Howard Shore is a freaking boss.
3. The soundtrack is the only good thing about the Hobbit movies (well, that and the scene between Bilbo and Gollum. BUT THAT'S IT)
4. "The Bridge of Khazad-Dum" is an excellent track for running because it makes you feel like you're being chased by a Balrog.
5. Don't EVER set "A Knife in the Dark" as your alarm unless you want to wake up with a scare approximately equivalent to chugging a gallon of energy drinks.
6. "Breaking of the Fellowship" is the easiest way to make an LoTR fan cry.
7. Yes, you can read the books to this soundtrack and it might actually make them better.
8. HOWARD FREAKING SHORE.
9. Don't study to these. Or do study to them. I don't know. Sometimes they're great and motivating, and sometimes I get caught up in the beauty of it all and ten minutes later I realize I've been staring at the same page, reading the same paragraph, digesting none of it.
10. When my boss wanted background music (a last minute request) for one of his business presentations during the audience participation bit, I may or may not have played a couple of the lesser known LoTR songs.
11. "Concerning Hobbits" really is the most fun to play on the violin.
12. When the orchestra stops suddenly and the lone violin floats over the top in the middle of "A Storm is Coming" I get goosebumps every time.
13. This completes the perfect trifecta: Lord of the Rings is my favorite book series. Lord of the Rings (EXCLUDING THE HOBBIT) is my favorite movie series. Lord of the Rings is my favorite music.

Best wishes,
Nicole Pendragon

The Beauty of Susan

For a long time, I read very little else other than Narnia.

When I was young and first experiencing Narnia, Lucy and I explored it together. Through her, I learned to love Tumnus and the Beavers and Aslan and Peter.

As I grew older, I saw more and more of myself in Edmund, and his redemption brings me so much relief, even as the cost of it scares me more than I'm willing to admit.

The beautiful Susan I never understood. How could she not enter Narnia with excitement? And how could she abandon it?! I was sad and confused and felt her loss as her siblings did, but the joy of Aslan's Country eclipsed those feelings. 

Gradually, I myself moved on to other books, some by Lewis, some not. I read Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, I read Burke's Reflections on the Revolution in France, I read biographies, essays, short stories, and anything else I could get my hands on. Narnia remained a beloved memory and an encapsulation of my childhood. Susan remained an enigma.

But then...

One day I needed Narnia again. A week before my 18th birthday, I decided I was going to reread the whole series, one book per day. I was going to go back to Narnia as a child one last time. I know that the "18 years old equals adulthood" is an arbitrary convention of our culture, but it still seemed significant and as I read the series again, it really did feel as though I was saying goodbye to my childhood.

Because suddenly, I understood Susan. I related to the fretful way she behaved, the way she took care of her siblings with almost too much attention, and I felt her need to be respected by adults and to act like a grownup, even in a world that catered decidedly toward a childlike attitude. I recognized the way she responded to the magic of Narnia, but lost it so quickly back in her own world. 

I hadn't seen that before. And that understanding made her character so much more important to my perspective on the outcome of Narnia. C.S. Lewis didn't write a "happily ever after" so much as a truly realistic allegory for the real world. Narnia certainly isn't a tragedy--good defeats evil, and all is as it should be--except for Susan. Through the second-eldest Pevensie, Lewis revealed how there are tragic figures even in a happy ending. 

When I finished the story for the umpteenth time, I needed reconciliation for Susan's character. I needed her back in Narnia! Lewis never gave her that redemption, nor did he close her story. The reader presumes that Susan lived on after the crash that killed her siblings and her parents. Perhaps she had to identify the bodies. Perhaps she became successful in Our World, recalling Narnia only as often as she remembered her siblings, who never fully reached adulthood. 

However, for the audience, the rest of Susan's story remains shrouded in the "perhaps" and we'll never know what became of her. And yet, even as her tragedy cautions readers against deserting the faith of childhood, her ambiguity delivers us hope. Because perhaps she did remember Narnia later in life. Perhaps she remembered Aslan's words; that the children were pulled into Narnia so that, in the real world, they would come to know him better under another name. 

That ambiguity is the true beauty of Susan. The tiniest speck hope is there, despite her tragic arc; it is buried in the "perhaps" that finishes her story in the minds of Lewis' readers.

Part of me still needs Susan's redemption.

Best wishes,

Nicole Pendragon