inertia

Another too late night with too little work done, or so it seems, and I wonder if I have the fortitude to break my bad habits. I see them so clearly but I continue to do them and I can't really explain why I do them except that it's easier to continue to do what I normally do than to do something new. Behavioral inertia. Psychological inertia. When I say "bad habits," I mean just habits that are keeping me from doing things that would bring me deeper fulfillment. Keeping me from doing things that I supposedly highly value.

But I wonder: if one really highly values something, then wouldn't she be moved to act on it? I might say I value social justice, or teaching about religion, or guiding people in their processes of meaning making and worldview formation (and I would say I value all of these things), but if I valued them deeply, wouldn't I want to spend more time working to alleviate injustice, working to develop innovative and effective teaching methods with religion, and working to understand the process of meaning making? Why is it so difficult to focus on the things that I deeply value?

I think the answer is (at least partially) that these are such abstract things to value that there's no single concrete thing I can do to "work on them." There are little things I could do that would be part of working towards them, but I think it's difficult to be motivated when it's hard to connect what you're doing directly to your goal. Oh, so if I read this 500-page book then I'll be able to write more effectively about some small aspect of meaning making? I have a tendency not to want to do things that are "small." But, of course, the kind of goals I have, the kind of projects that I think will bring me lasting fulfillment throughout my life, are huge. I will never fully achieve them. I will always be working towards them.

Inertia works both ways though--harder to start, but it's also harder to stop.

And then there's friendship. I was reading some class notes tonight discussing Nietzsche and Bergmann, and they included the point that to be self-perfected (or self-enacted), you have to have a supportive social environment. That culture and society matter greatly in supporting the achievement of a free self. Part of this is having supportive friends. But the notes said that some people don't choose their friends very well, largely because they have a misguided notion of friendship. Differing notions of friendship are things I don't know much about, but I've always been interested in finding out more, especially because of the connection of friendship to love, which has always intrigued me personally--how the hell can we understand how the different kinds of love work? What are we actually talking about when we talk about love? Are there ways to foster truly loving relationships--is it not as mysterious as we sometimes make it out to be? The best friendships are, I think, a form of love--not an "in love," really--but love nonetheless.

But what are ideal friendships? Does this differ from person to person? For me, the best friendships I have are characterized by a sort of ease, a free flow. Things just work. And they work in part because of a certain level of safety in the relationship. By this, I mean that, with my best friends, I know that they're going to stay my friends no matter what I do (within reason). And this gives me a sort of license to be myself, to act freely, without having to monitor what I say or do through their perspectives. This isn't to say that I don't think about their perspectives, but just that I don't have to watch what I'm saying or watch what I'm doing. I can be myself. This means that, around my closest friends, I act pretty much the same way. I'll act similarly with my best friends in Tampa as I will with my best friends here as I will with my best friends from college, etc. But I will sometimes act differently with people who are only acquiantances or more superficial friends--there's a level of diplomacy or censoring with these people that I don't have with my best friends. There's also often a level of politeness there that isn't there with my best friends. Because with that safety in the relationship comes the security to challenge. I can "call my friends out" (and they can call me out) in a way that I would not be comfortable doing with an acquaintance. This might seem odd, because you have less to lose with an acquaintance than with a friend (you barely know the acquaintance and they're not as important to you); but in fact you have far more to lose with an acquaintance, because there's no safety in the relationship (such as it is with an acquaintance). With your best friends, there's not much to lose at all, since you know you can challenge them and the friendship will sustain.

How do I pick my friends? I have absolutely no idea. When I survey my friends, I can see few obvious connections between them. There's no "type" here. But maybe there is, actually. Because I think what characterizes those with whom I'm the closest is a passionate vitality. A drive to do something extraordinary. To live extraordinarily. This is probably key for me. But I know some people who are trying to do extraordinary things with whom I'm not best friends. So it must be more than that. Sense of humor is important. Thoughtfulness helps. But of course these traits describe plenty of people, too. And it's not as if all my friends have exactly the same combination of characteristics. So it gets mysterious. And I think to figure out how I pick my friends would be difficult enough; but then imagine also having to figure out how my friends pick me. Friendships are two-way streets, after all, so you've got to be drawn to them and they've got to be drawn to you.

I'm leaning more tonight towards going to Harvard. Some conversations with people tonight pushed me in that direction, though earlier today I would've said I was leaning towards Chicago. The fact is that I want to go to Chicago for social reasons and I want to go to Boston for academic/career reasons. So I've got a viable set of reasons for going to each place. Do I have to choose what's most important to me? Friends or career? Of course, it's not as harsh as this. Because my friends would be here when I got back from Boston; it's not as if going away for 4 months will bring the end of my most important friendships here. It's not even as if it will stunt those friendships, because some of my best friendships have developed greatly when I wasn't in the same place as my friends. Plus, my friends could visit me; I could visit here; and I'd have the chance to develop stronger friendships with people I know in the Northeast (friends in New York, for instance, from whom I wouldn't be that far) and perhaps even make some new friends. If I go to Boston, there's a pretty clear plan: work with the program at Harvard, sit in on classes, meet with the students in the program, etc. I'd also have a special status and a direct connection (with the director of the program) who could furnish me with a letter of recommendation at some point. I don't have a plan for Chicago right now, and I'm afraid I'd be a bit aimless if I went there (though I probably need to do some more looking into what the options there would be).

My right eyelid has been twitching a little lately. I wonder if anyone's noticing. And I wonder why it's happening. Quitting smoking? Too much caffeine? Not enough caffeine? The beginning of a massive facial tic?

I think inertia is a fact of life, but I want to establish it with some habits that will fulfill me, and this means fighting it for now--slowing my habits, stopping--before I can get moving again.