The power of repetition

In the months between finishing my postgrad and coming to London I found myself repeating words I didn't believe. I found myself omitting information I couldn't bring myself to share. I found myself laying a foundation I didn't know I was laying.

I wrote very few blog posts in that time, but I just read one about positive thinking. At the time, I wasn't prepared to divulge how broken I was. This was in part because I didn't want to upset the person who broke me and partly because I didn't want to show weakness.

The interesting thing about weakness is, once you've overcome it, you don't mind people knowing it was once a cross you carried. Of course, I can't speak for everyone, but that's how it has worked in my situation.

Photo by MrsMinifig

But my vague attempts to pretend I was fine and thinking positive in fact led to a newfound positive attitude. Things that I said in that blog post - and that I found (still find) myself repeating to people around me - became part of my being. They sunk into the depths of my conscious and pitched up.

'Nothing is ever as bad as it seems,' is but an example. Telling people that positive energy breeds positivity seemed to ignite a positivity I didn't know I possessed, but pretended to flaunt.

'There are two types of people in this world, those who say they're going to do something and those who do it.' - But another example of a line I repeated, up until the point I became the latter type of person.

Since my return from Hell (also known as sunny Swindon), I've been on many an adventure, spoken to many different types of people, made many new friends and read many new books, as I begin to discover my path. A path I may not have known I was looking for if everything didn't go to shit.

One of my favourite quotes of late is from a Paulo Coelho book: 'Sometimes, certain blessings arrive by shattering all the windows.'

Photo by Ed Schipul

I think that's true.

I think if I can go from wanting to vanish off the face of the Earth, to a balanced contentment so sharply, anybody can. So for anyone body reading this who is feeling down or hating the world or things just aren't going right for you, try a little experiment. What's it going to hurt?

Spend the next month saying:

'Nothing's ever as bad as it seems,' and 'I'm so lucky.'

On repeat. Repetition is key. Say it to yourself and say it to other people. And while you're at it start saying 'yes' more.

Danny Wallace may have played an important role in changing my life =p Maybe you should also read Yes Man, while you're at it.

Goodbye Safety Net; Hello World

I have one month left; one. That's a month of exams that I am underprepared for and terrified of sitting. That's one month of living off a student loan and being an unemployed student. That's one month to determine where my world goes next.

Needless to say, I'm somewhat scared about having to take on the role of 'grown up'. Life is just a series of playing different parts; taking on new personas. We're all on some sort of journey in the process and I guess everyone takes their own, but I feel like mine is about finding out who I am and what it means to be. Not what it is to be me, but to be. Period.

Everyone has goals in mind for what they want their lives to be - or what they think it should be. Theres the capitalist ideology of getting a big house, full of nice things and all the bling to let everyone know you made it. But this has most people falling into debt to try to secure. There's the got-to-have-a-family ideology, where people end up settling too soon. There are people trying to find love or God or excitement. Everyone has something they are after. There's a link to most of them though; happiness. 

People think happiness is the goal. They're trying to achieve things they think will make them happy. The only problem is, most of the time as soon as we hit our target we soon discover it wasn't good enough; we need to aim higher. We're a greedy species really. Though maybe that's not completely true. Some people find contentment despite the pressures of their surrounding societies. That's what I'm after; contentment. Fuck knows where you find it though.

So here I stand, approaching the end of university and now I have some decisions to make. I need to work out what is 'best' for me. Which direction it is I 'need' to take. Which goals I need to aim for. But how can I possibly know what it is I need to do to understand life? All I want is some sort of understanding; some wisdom. And I know that as it stands I don't know anything. The more I understand, the more I realise I don't know a thing. This understanding is depressing. But even so, I'd rather know than be blissfully unaware, as I once was. As much as I hate the nausea I still feel as though I'm better for having got this far. 

Part of me wants to just believe something, even if it's the wrong 'something'. It's the part of me that thinks I wont ever really know anything but so long as I believe something, I'll find a contentment in my discovery. Only the rest of me thinks believing the wrong thing is worse than not believing in anything and I should put up with the nausea until it can be properly over come. 

So I'm at a loss. 

But I will read. And explore. And hopefully understand a little more everyday - both about myself but also about everyone else. About being and existence and life and death and maybe on this journey I'll just discover that I've been wasting my time looking for the wrong thing, but at least I'd have been looking. 

I started reading a book today. I was stood at the train station with a half hour wait until my train arrives plus a two and a half hour journey back home so stood in front of the books in Smiths scanning. Out of the corner of my eye was a bright blue one with clouds on it. At this moment I decided that would be the book. Before knowing anything about it - before even reading the title. Maybe that's a stupid way to pick books, but heck it worked out well. 

It's called Hector and the Search For Happiness. It's written like a kids book but it's a grown up theme. It's definitely a PennieBook. It even starts 'Once upon a time...' 

I'm just over half way through by the time I get home and I'm loving it. I'll share whatever I learn with you when I finish it. 

The internet where I am has been rubbish - so by the time I've posted this it's technically tomorrow... 

Perceptual Experiences

So today I sat through the exact same Epistemology lecture I sat through last year on Sense Datum Theories. Part of me felt like just leaving when I realised I'd heard it all before, but let's be honest here, doing it again isn't going to hurt. So in accepting being given this second chance to understand I will take to discussing it with you lot. 

Personally I feel like epistemology shouldn't have it's own class but should just be discussed in relation to everything else. But maybe that's just because I am not a fan - 

So I'll give you the two claims we are (apparently) committed to before I discuss. If you are a non philosopher and absolutely horrified by my sharing this with you I do apologise and hope it doesn't lead to you never returning. But at the same time I did warn you all of this probably happening and as I have been sat in the library for a couple of hours and found myself not really doing much of anything I may as well do this. Let's call it Education Through Procrastination. 

In fact, I quite like that. I will be keeping it, somehow. 

1) Typically, the direct objects of perceptual experience are external, mind independent objects

2) Typically, perceptual experiences are relations to their direct objects. 

'Right, so what does that all mean' I hear you ask! Well, I don't hear much other than the clicking and the tapping I'm causing myself nor could I adequately answer such a question (I'm assuming) but by-golly I plan to try (...something). 

Now, according to number 2 those perceptual experiences are relational just like my laptop is sat in front of me is relational. If I were sat somewhere else that whole 'in front of me' placement would not hold. So according to that, a perceptual experience needs to have a relation going on, if there is no one around to relate to then the experience can't be happening. 

Ok, so that makes sense enough. 

'But wait!' I hear you cry. Does it make sense if we think about illusory experiences or hallucinations? 

Well, if you are a Sense-Datum Theorist the answer would be to abandon claim 1 and keep hold of number 2. So there is still the 'relation to the object' thing going on, but it doesn't necessarily have to be some external object. Only thing, if it's not an external object, what the hell is it? If I can see the laptop, doesn't the laptop have to be there? 

Well, the Sense Datum guys would say that those perceptual experiences are mind dependent 'sense-data' that are actually these internal things inside our minds. 

This is the point I start going - wait, what!?

So (from what I've gathered at least,) our perceptual experiences, i.e. things I can see, touch etc. are relations to the 'sense-data'. 

This sounds like they are saying that those perceptual experiences I'm having are all in my head, which I can almost go for... almost. Yeah ok, so I'll agree that what we're perceiving isn't necessarily what's out there. It's not like we could ever know, my experiences are all subjective. So on a low low scale, maybe when I see blue you can see green - that's not to say we're going to sit and argue about the blue object we're both looking it, but rather we see different things that are called the same thing through that relational language stuff. I learn to call this thing I see blue and so do you, even though we don't see the same thing. 

Sure, fine. This is ok. But now we're getting more into the 'what?' 

So how is it that you and I can both see a table if this is all some internal mental sense data relation? There has to be something making me perceive a table, right? 

Well I think so. But then you have those idealists that just make my head hurt who I think say no. Now, maybe I'm just misinterpreting the whole thing, but I think the idealists would say that everything I perceive and experience is just some representation or illusion or something and not what's really there. But then you have to wonder what really is there... 

It almost feels like they either don't have an answer or they're just going to make stuff up and hope it flies. 

I'm not really sure about all this idealism - It makes my head hurt. 

But please, enter into discussion (especially any philosophers!) and let's work all this out together! 

Super Me

Today, I got a new tattoo. It is very exciting and I've wanted it done for a while. It's a stick man with a cape whispering into my ear! Yes, it's SuperPennie!

I started this hours ago and now I should really be saying yesterday in talking about it... But you can just deal with my time issues.

It may seem as though I have just branded myself and I'm not exactly sure what that shows. Perhaps my commitment to the SuperPennie brand, maybe it's more like my attempts to snapshot this part of my being. Maybe it's both.

I like tattoos. It's as if my body is the scrapbook of my life, and of course it is! We have scars to remind us of our scrapes and adventures, we have wrinkles to remind us of our smiles. Why not have drawings to remind us of our loves? People often tell me I'll regret them when I'm older or that I'll never get a job. And to those people, I tell them they just don't see what I see. This isn't my young impressionable self making mistakes or trying to be cool, this is me keeping hold of everything that is.

I started a diary when I was 10 years old and a scrap book around the same time. When I was a teenager my walls were full of memories I held dear (most of which now live in a massive blue pirate box). When I was a fresher my dorm walls did the same thing (until they were retired into a big pink fairy box). I keep hold of everything. I want to remember the good times and the bad times, to remember my opinions and beliefs long after I don't hold them anymore. I want to see how I've changed and understand where I've come from.

And on the job front... well I want to be a superhero.

I'm not convinced my appearance matters at all as a writer. The words that fall out of my fingertips will no doubt come from the same braincells regardless of the ink or dye that seeps within me. And any employer refusing to have me on their team simply based on my appearance does not sound like the sort of employer who deserves me on their side.

Sure, maybe when I'm 60 and have to explain my stickman with a cape to my tea buddies I may seem a little silly, but the stories I tell will be of adventures I had in my youth. Of the times I followed my dreams and took those leaps towards the stars. And anyone who feels the need to judge my happiness is clearly wasting their lives away rather than being happy for themselves. And to you, I am sorry.