Yesterday, driving home from work, I had the opportunity to 
take an often-considered side route. There's a ferry 
crossing the Willamette river, whose signage has tempted 
me for several months. My usual commute winds through 
agricultural fields with almost zero traffic.This time of 
year it is especially beautiful. I lament the lack of 
pull-over opportunities for pictures - there are no 
shoulders on these roads.

Yesterday was a short work day, a sunny day, and I knew 
it was time to float my car over a river. 

The road to the ferry was new to me, too, and yielded 
another treat, a view of the many acres of hops just 
starting to grow up the thin strands of the frames that 
suspend them. Hops pickers will mount ladders when it's 
harvest time. legend has it they can sometimes fall asleep 
on the ladders, due to the soporific effect of the hops.

The hops fields seemed to go on for miles. I spotted one 
sign that marked those hops as destined for Full Sail beers, 
just one of numerous local breweries I am quite familiar 
with.

The approach to the ferry itself is of course a short slope 
downwards. Only two cars ahead of me, and only two dollars' 
cost for the crossing. This ferry is the fifth incarnation 
since 1850, each one named for the man who started the 
service.

Now, this river crossing is far from monumental. The span 
of water is only 580 feet! But the unique sensation of 
driving onto a steel deck and floating across a moving 
river was significant to me. Sure, it would have been 
much more exciting if men still poled it across, and the 
ferry was made of locally felled trees. I did not at all 
mind the diesel motor, and the overhead and underwater 
cables that guided the small craft (a maximum of nine cars 
at once). I'd guess the float across was accomplished in 
less than three minutes. I was to the right and a little 
behind the car next to me, and all I could see of the older 
woman seated on the passenger side was her right hand, with 
a firm grip on the handle built into the dash. She seemed 
to be challenging her comfort zone more than I was.

After the crossing I was quickly reunited with the rest of 
my usual commute. That modest diversion was important to 
me, as are all opportunities to try new and different 
things. I have had many fine experiences because I just 
had to follow one or two or five more turns on a forest 
trail, or drive a beautiful rural road just because it's 
there. It is one of the ways I maintain a wonderous regard 
for life in this world.

You can think about something that evokes no emotional response, if you want--but you don't do it, do you?  Not unless you have to.  "I don't care" is the quickest way to nip a conversation in the bud.  And why is your job disappointing?  Because you spend all of these precious hours doing something that you just don't care about.

Human beings care about stuff.  It's where we start.  We may later use our rational part to look more closely at something, but the caring comes first.  By the time our analytical brain turns on, we're generally already emotionally invested in...whatever it is.  We're well downstream from the our original point of departure, and we have little desire to backtrack--to go back upstream and start the trip again with both the gut and the rational mind on board.  So we start reasoning, analyzing, discussing from just where we are. 

The people whose boats are floating near us become our tribe.  The ones floating way over there are not, and they include the evil, the misguided and the stupid--the fleet of deplorables.  By the time we engage with others on a subject, we have pretty much figured out our position.  Our logic is internally consistent and our answer the right one.  That means we can spend our time passionately defending that answer and pretty much ignoring the babble of others...unless those others agree with us. 

And if this Us and Them dichotomy is emotionally satisfying, then you can go for it.  If you actually want the world to become a better place, though, this isn't going to help.  To have a discussion that might actually lead to something, somebody (hopefully everybody) needs to return to at least a semi-open mind.  They also need to agree on the meaning of the terms that they use and on what can they can take as common ground.  There will be some common ground, although at the outset, nobody may know what it is.

Let me try to make my points by talking about something that most people don't--and shouldn't--care about.

There is an "IQ" math quiz going around on Facebook, which I reproduced below.  Over 3000 people have "solved" it and then gone on to debate the answers.  We have the "Answer is 96" team and the "Answer is 40" team, and so on.  And each team is absolutely sure their answer is unassailable.  They're passionate about it.  You can figure out why--and I bet it isn't a love of math.

Looking over the posts, it seems that virtually everyone makes these two assumptions:

1.  There is only one correct solution, and in it, all of the equations have to be true.  If all of your equations are true, you have proved that your answer is the right one.

2.  "+" isn't really "+" .  On the other hand, all other symbols are being used in their normal way. 

The first assumption is common enough in its form; it echoes "There is only one true God" among others, and it includes the always-popular confirmation bias:  paying attention only to data that supports your conclusion.  I'm letting that go today.  I want to take the second assumption as a poster child--an emotionally neutral poster child--for the problem of and importance of terminology.

Assumption #2 is perplexing, in its way.  Why would people "know" that all of the other symbols mean exactly what they've always meant, but that the odd one out is the plus sign?  Why not assume that "=" means "less than or equal to", and give any value of 19 or more as the answer?  It may be what is called a "Schelling point" in game theory.  In a cooperative game, a Schelling point is a good one to choose simply because, for some reason, most people figure it would be chosen.  So I'll accept the idea that the "+" is the odd one out as common ground. 

Of course, the puzzle could have said, "? is a binary operation and 1 ? 4 = 5, 2 ? 5 = 12", and so on...and then asked how ? worked.  But instead we have "+", which we now assume isn't really "+", but is pretty much like "+"--which should be good enough if you're not being a pedantic prig.

But it's not.  Virtually everyone assumed that this new "+" was a binary operation (although they may not have ever heard that phrase), that it took the two given numbers and always returned a number as the answer.  You know, just like the usual "+".

Except--and here's where the debates started--with regular addition, A + B  and B + A are the same.  With regular addition, you can figure out A + B for any two numbers.  Do these properties have to hold for this new "+"?  A + B uses arithmetical operators--just one, in fact.  Does the new A + B have to do this?  Because if not, A + B might mean "the entry in row A, column B of this here table".  And if you're upset that you could fill that table in an infinite number of ways...well, sorry, but it's not hard to prove that you can come up with an infinite number of different arithmetical formulas that all "work" for the data given.  As two examples, you can get A + B = A(B+1) or A + B = 1/4((A + B + 1)^2 - 16).  The first of these has A + B different from B + A; the second has them being equal.  Both of them agree on the answer to the puzzle...and on almost nothing else.

I kinda hope you skimmed that last paragraph.  Who cares what the right answer is?  My bet is, almost no one.  But they care about their answer being right.  And almost no one is interested in seeing if the other answers offered are right, too.  And this is in a case where it's trivial to check to see if the other answers work!

And matters are only made worse because the problem used a "+" sign, a common and universally understood symbol, but deliberately used it in a way that refers to something that wasn't addition, but was "like it in important ways".

Trivia?  Absolutely.  But we see the same thing in discussions about meaningful and important things, and then we don't need to muddy the water by using terminology that means whatever we want it to mean at the moment, leaving it to others to sort out.  This is especially true if you're trying to find common cause with the people in those boats on the other parts of the river.  They're not all a fleet of deplorables, and we need to keep track of the differences.

If you don't mean "all Republicans" or "all men" or "all police officers" when you speak of Republicans or men or police officers, then please take a couple of syllables to say so.  "Many Republicans", "too many men", "most police officers", or whatever.  This does not turn the conversation away from your point.  It keeps the conversation on your point by getting rid of an objection to something you didn't mean anyway.  It also keeps you honest with yourself, forcing you to remember that the statements you are making are not universal truths, regardless of how important certain cases are, and how largely they loom in your thoughts and heart.

Words easily become confused with truths.  If you get in the habit of making sweeping or hyperbolic statements because they sound strong and definite, will you be able to remember what you actually meant?  Will others?

Geriatric cat needed to go to the vet. He's having issues eating. It does not seem to be appetite, but something else. He, and the other two as well, are also due for an annual exam, possibly shots, whatever. Vet appointments are part of my division of household labor--we usually both go (carrying three carriers is a bit much) but the scheduling and prescription re-upping &c is my domain.

But I had not done it because every time I looked at my calendar, it was one thing too much (there was also the fear what the vet might tell us). So Spouse did it one morning when I apologized, again, for not having done it yet.

By choice, Spouse only looks at my primary calendar in his calendar view. This means he sees the events and appointment and engagements that I am 100% committed to. He does not see the Invite calendar with things I plan to do but may not if I can't swing it. And he does not see my work calendar. He also does not see the "Work calendar of things that affect when I'm home or at the office or WHEN I'm NOT AVAILABLE TO GO TO THE VET" (which, yes, is a separately maintained calendar).

So he scheduled the vet appointment for a usual work-from-home day that was disrupted by a conference he did not know about. Though I am slightly embarassed to admit it, I had a full-on toddler melt down when he IM'd me about it. Not because he'd done anything wrong but because I just cannot cope with my calendar.

Below is a facsimile of what May looks like--or, rather what it looked like the day this happened. May was, at that time, a relatively unscheduled month (it's changed a bit since the screenshot). A couple major events (plumbing repair at the rental condo, grantmaking for the board I'm on, a party we're throwing) but not much beyond the usual and some social engagements. A few things not on the calendar as "reminders to schedule" that need to get scheduled soon or won't happen. Like the vet.

And I was very much thrown off-balance when Spouse picked the one usual work from home day I would not be working from home to schedule a thing I had been neglecting because of stress, anxiety, as well as general feeling of not enough time.

It made me start thinking about calendar bankruptcy. Can I? Dare I? What happens if I just delete ALL THE THINGS in my calendar and start over? How about if I just find the first week with nothing (except possibly one of those "repeats on this day" events) and mark all times as busy?

Will that finally allow me to schedule a trip to Cleveland to see some friends we've been trying to visit for a year? Will that get me back in the habit of the three yoga classes a week I used to go to? Will that let me find the right time to start rock climbing lessons again? or finally get into a Spanish class? Or. Or. Or.

As my friends and I say to each other, at least once a month, Calendars Are Hard.

(By the way, geriatric cat is losing weight because of a thyroid issue, although he does appear to have a bad tooth and the pain medication appears to have solved the issue of him howling for food and then not eating it. Luckily, the thyroid medication can be applied to and absorbed through the ear. Once that's under control, we'll do the dental. He's got a bit of a heart murmur, which had me afraid of anesthesia for him, but the vet thinks that getting the thyroid under control will help mitigate some of that risk which she thinks I'm a little over-anxious about)

In the eighth year of every decade since I reached adulthood, I find myself at a transition point. I look at the things that have been influencing my life decisions, the signs of success in whatever world I've found myself in, and I realize that maybe they aren't quite as important as I felt they were even a year ago.

When I look back at my life, I can see that there's a trap I've gotten caught in several times. The cycle goes like this:

Find something I truly enjoy doing -> Get caught up in someone else's idea of what "success" means -> Take "career advancement" steps that move me away from what I love -> End up doing nothing I love and lots of things I actively hate

It's the eighth year of this decade and time for me to think about what I want to do next. I still feel this strange external pressure to take a next step that isn't the right next step for me, because it is the thing that people in a certain small segment of my already small industry would point to and say, "Wow, that's a huge leap forward!" And I think back over my life, and think of how many times I've felt a pressure to take a certain step because I felt the world expected it of me. Only it wasn't the world. It was a teeny, tiny group of people in one industry or subculture. That next step might have seemed like success to them, but the larger world was indifferent. The larger world doesn't know or care what the signs of success are to that little group.

I'm reminded of a story I heard once about Studio 54. At first, being able to get past the incredibly selective door at Studio 54 was a sign of success. But when people got in, they discovered that there was a VIP area. You might be in, but if you weren't in the VIP area you weren't really "in." Then those select people acheived the VIP area, a dank and drippy basement with plastic chairs and a pinball machine. But it turns out, that wasn't the most exclusive space. There was another area, a VVIP area. Legend has it that there were several of these spaces, each more exclusive and unattractive than the last. But people labored to achieve the next level, to reach an epic level of VIP-ness. And...if you were incredibly successful...you would reach the most exclusive VIP room of all, the inner sanctum that almost no one was allowed to enter.

And if you did...you'd find yourself with Andy Warhol and Liza Minelli, the only two people fabulous enough to have exclusive access to the greasy, smelly, dank, tiny boiler room (yes, a literal boiler room) that was the ultra-VIP spot. The ultimate sign of success at Studio 54 was the opportunity to hang out in a space that was objectively horrible.

Our jobs are just a fraction of who we are, and yet it's very easy to get into a headspace where our entire lives are controlled by the need to be the person sitting in that dingy, stinky boiler room. Many of us will never have the opportunity to get beyond that. But if we have the privilege to get the chance to do so, to think about what we want most out of life and how work can fit into that, we can then make a plan to build a life where the end goal is something more delightful and open than that boiler room.

Right this moment, I have the time to focus on a few questions. What are the things I find fulfilling? What are the situations I can put myself in where I'm challenged to learn new things? What is the work I can do that will give me the kind of discomfort that is the sign of stretching to a new level of growth, rather than the discomfort of shrinking oneself down to fit into someone else's confining box of expectations?

I'm starting to come up with some answers, but there's no clearly defined roadmap here. I fully expect that I might take a few detours, hit a few dead ends, wind up taking a couple of missteps onto The Road of Someone Else's Expectations. But this time, if that happens, I'm determined to quickly get myself back on the path that is the right one for me.

I'll bite: 

I DAAAARE CM Adams post about the story of the Wallingford House.  I gotta know.  

(Many apologies and thanks to Anne Mollo ​​​​. :-D  )

Ted and I were sorting a bedroom. I found a fancy box of fancy drawer liners.

ME: Oh, Jesus, why?

TED: What is it?

ME: Drawer liners.

TED: What are drawer liners?

ME: they're big pieces of paper that you put in your drawers to keep your clothes clean. 

TED: Define... "drawers." 

Of course, I pulled out the waistband of my pants and shoved the whole box in. 

Yeah, I like how much this reminds me of LJ. Maybe that's part of the point. I love the smell of a beta site. So full of potential.

I write this maiden post at a time of significant transition in my life. Not sure I'm inclined to detail that much right now, but I _am_ sure that my tendency to run my mouth beyond the point of discretion will take over soon enough. Suffice to say that my self-care is improving, and there is just a lot more interesting content in my life then there has been in quite a while.

I look forward to seeing what you guys decide to share here. I would love to see this take off, and perhaps add more features like interests lists and groups to facilitate networking.

Hello, everyone who I just invited to OPW! I want to wish you a warm welcome. There's lots of people posting smart stuff on here. I'm not one of them. I encourage you to go out and look at the other people on this platform who are way more brilliant than I could ever be.

...so in response to my request for more invites they have given everyone 50. I guess can everyone verify.

"As in, cancelling it so you can reuse it? I think I could do something simple like making sure you get the invite back if it is not used after n days. Of course that would limit your friend's ability to be lazy-but-still-interested. I gave everybody 50 invites yesterday, hopefully that will help. (:

-- 

Tom Boutell"

By request (!), everybody here now has a metric crapton of invites.