“The world itself is pregnant with failure, is the perfect manifestation of imperfection, of the consciousness of failure.” - Henry Miller

The Lenten season begins today: a fourty-day-fourty-night ritual of the Catholic faith for individuals to reflect upon their lives and to remind the masses of their reason for their existence. Jesus sacrificed his human life for the sole purpose of bettering mortal life and relieving from it the curse of sin. To me, it is a time to “give up” something – as I embark upon trying to remove meat from my diet – but it is also a time to reevaluate what it means to even be alive, further, what it means to be human.

We live in a world today where “cruelty has a human heart, and Jealousy a human face; Terror the human form divine, and Secrecy the human dress” (Blake X146). In such a caustic society, there is a very limited amount of room for us to give in to these deadly sins, and by surpassing our desires we believe that is what it means to be human. In Morality and Politics, with Devin Stauffer, we have been discussing the The Politics of Aristotle, and have explored the definition Aristotle gives to being human. He says that by nature we are animals, and taken out of civilized society we would not be able to call ourselves anything other than that. BUT what we do posses is the ability to reason and to state and abide by our own individualized moral codes.

While that is all fine and nice, I wonder at what point we detach ourselves from the basic foundations of humanity and become pharmaceutical beings with justification for our every move, becoming the snapper in Harrigan’s story who “lack[s in personality” and is the expectation of “someone you’d meet in a Casino in Vegas” (160).We had a discussion before about the robotic appearance of today’s culture, and how we have almost become unaware of our own emotions. Personally, I find this very appropriate. Sunday night I was in the room with a friend when she received a phone call from her mom and dad telling her that her uncle had just died unexpectedly from heart failure. Her emotions were hysterical, and though I tried to console her in her frantic state, I found there were few words one can articulate that have any significant affect. I returned to two summers ago, and found myself battling to figure out when it was that I last experienced such an emotional outpouring, and was unable to identify with a particular occasion. Given the things that I went through, have I become a product of modern society?

Back to Lent. My goal is to regain emotional control, and by that I do not mean numbing myself to the events of the day, rather balancing each emotion with another: if I feel like crying, why should I not let it out? If I feel like screaming, why not scream (of course in a controlled environment, but the point of the matter is to not let myself bottle everything up for that one instance that something does happen, and I am forced to release and explore the endless frustration of deriving why it is I feel that way. Hopkins beautifully explains this in his poem The Sea and the Skylark:

We, life’s pride and cared-for crown,
Have lost that cheer and charm of earth’s past prime:
Our make and making break, are breaking, down
To man’s last dust, drain fast towards man’s first slime (X165).

This year has opened my eyes to what one can assert their evaluation of aesthetically appealing, and have found that the view of perfection that I once myself had striven so badly for has almost depleted, and have found more beauty in the rawness of life. In the account of the attack on a zoo-keeper in the Houston zoo, Harrigan talks about his awe-provoking encounter with the beast himself. He says, “The tiger was majestic and unknowable, a beast of such seeming invulnerability that it was possible to believe that he alone had called the world into being, and that a given life could end at his whim.” (X155) I propose that we once again look back into ourselves and find the tiger within us, and acknowledge that unharnessed splendor of the imperfection. Once we are able to get back in touch to “weep and know why” we will understand the grandeur of a sacrifice (X167).

"If I feel insignificant I will remember my goals. Today I will be the master of my emotions.” - Og Mandino

One of the hardest things for me to come to terms with is how insignificant my life is, and what it even means to be alive. Throughout our previous class discussions this semester we have talked about religion, and explored different aspects of why some people chose to believe in a specified manner or not. To me, I am constantly confused of whether or not I should, or what I should even believe in. My life, in terms of greater forms, is so incredibly insignificant that I have to wonder why I make such a big deal out of someone saying something stupid, or choosing to eat meat or not. Am I just trying to make the time that I have living easier? This is a question I am constantly plagued with.

One thing that I know exists is love, or maybe what I view of love is not even called that because it is too abstract, but for this purpose I will refer to it as such. I believe that I have seen love at its deepest form: when faced with death.
I sat at the bedside for the remaining hours of my father’s life, and was there every second through his last breath. It was one of the most surreal experiences I have ever faced, and continues to be one of my most secret and prized moments, and one of my deepest fears. Regardless of its impact on my life, I saw the strength that love was able to give my father.

It was Wednesday morning, July 27, 2007. My mom came upstairs and told me, as I hid behind my computer screen doing a crossword trying to avoid everything that might be happening downstairs, that my father was unable to wake up. That was how I was introduced to July 27th, the first words of the morning, and the day progressed with very few words, but incredible emotion and action. I proceeded downstairs and into my parents’ bedroom, and saw my father and sat beside the bed holding his hand. The nurse was there too, and I could tell by the glances she would give my mom that it wasn’t going to be long. The problem was, however, that we were not ready. My sister, and my dad’s family were not in attendance.

It was 3:30pm that we got the call that my sister had just left Houston with my aunt, and grandparents heading our way. As soon as the phone call ended, the rapid breathing started. In desperate attempts to try and take in as much as I could from the man I called my father, my sister, monica, and I grasped his cold hands, begging to wait for sarah. It was now 5pm, and things only looked to be getting worse. Seconds would pass without any inhale, then minutes. My mom, with all the words she could muster, shouted, “PLEASE WAIT, KIM! SARAH IS ALMOST HERE!” my dad stopped breathing.

After what felt like the last 17 years of my life flash before my eyes…. A breath struggled and produced one of the most horrid sounds I can remember. 5:45- the car arrives. My family walked in with no words, hurrying to get to the bedside.
My dad passed away at 6pm that day, and for some reason to this day it is unexplained how he regained breath throughout the 5oclock hour.

“Hereby know we that we dwell in him, and he in us, because he hath given us of his spirit” (X134 – 13).

I live each day knowing that my father is with me, for I know that he would not concern himself with the trivial occurrences of what we call LIFE. He lived knowing that he was significant to the people around him, and I can only hope that the people that I know will one day feel my existence within them.

“We grow neither better nor worse as we get old, but more like ourselves” - May Lamberton Becker

Top of the World - Patty Griffin
I have always wondered why making and keeping friends has been a difficult task. There has been an overwhelming trend throughout my adolescent life to amount and move on. What I mean by this is as soon as I learn enough about a person, and feel that there is nothing more for me to gain, I lose interest and hasten upon the pursuit of finding another to fill the void of a past friend. I live in a paradoxical world where, for some reason, I have inverted the ‘golden rule’ in order to merely satisfy my own needs and advance my own benefits and agenda in the direction I see fit. This is the problem that I have only recently begun to unfold and truly search through myself for answers.

As I begin my investigation of a life worth living, and living correctly, I must first face what I have come to know about myself. Time and time again the claim has been made by those around me that I have a tendency to over-analyze situations and the people in my life. It was not until recently that I was able to understand and grasp the slightest hint at why I pick apart others’ personalities and habits for the sole purpose of exposing one’s flaws. I hold people to such high standards, that it is impossible for an individual to ever be glorified in my eyes. Not only do I uphold these requirements for others, but also for myself, and therein lays the problem: if I am not able to amount to the principles that I set for others, at what point will I be able to appreciate anything less?

College to me was always the glimmer of hope that I saw while still in high school. It would, hopefully, be a chance to reinvent everything that I disliked about myself. Unfortunately, I did not get into my school of choice, and felt that by attending the University of Texas I was settling into a lifestyle of everything that I had previously known. To my benefit, attending a university in Austin, the city I was born and raised, has opened my eyes more to the things that I need to focus on in myself: my emotional intelligence and appreciation.

Over the course of my time here at UT, I have noticed that I have not really explored the depths of what relationships with others, those of whom I have NOT been well-acquainted, have to offer. I keep most people at a very safe distance from getting to know who I truly am, and play the part of someone who I think others will like, but still hold grudges against those that I do not know. In looking more closely, this mindset has challenged me throughout the last ten years. People tell me that my taste in movies, music, humor, and plainly my acceptance of others is jaded because I am inclined to veer away from what is considered the norm, or commercialized by the masses for my desire to be unique. Ironically, it is the peculiarities and differences I recognize in myself that prompt me to put up these walls against people and material things. Emotionally I try and hide my feelings from myself, and therefore am unable to cope with how I project my feelings outward.

I hope to, and have already made attempts towards moving away from the detachment of others by being more accepting, and exuding trust and companionship in those who I am close to. For me, it was a slap in the face not being able to move away from home, and everything recognizable, and instead of pursuing a life that I desired; I slowed my advancement of personal growth by holding onto the comfort blanket of preexisting friends and activities.

It has not been a simple task so far, but something that the more I explore the more I find areas for improvement. My propensity for pleasing others before acknowledging my own human desires and needs has thwarted the sort of things that I do. Furthermore, before I am able to make a decision I normally face a fork in the road at a point where analysis sets in. Which direction to go? Who will I not please? What will happen if… the list is endless. These questions and my inability to act for myself hinder my emotional growth as an individual.

In the last week, I have made strident efforts towards finding personal motivation for the things that I do, rather than waiting for outside approval. My hope is that by heightening my awareness for my own emotional readability I will soon become a sounder individual, able to appreciate and find compassion for things that I generally would stray from.

I attribute a lot of my personal faults to being raised in a competitive environment in various aspects of my life. For as long as I remember, I have vied for attention from my parents (being the youngest of three), from my friends, and from my teachers. This constant need for approval and recognition has eliminated any self-worth that I find within myself. For that reason alone, I try and remove competition rather than acknowledge what other individuals have to offer. More pertinent, I turn any conflict of interest into irrational one-upping in an emphatic attempt to surmount the opposition.

I believe that competition, in its most basic form, was conceived in the school of architecture. From the first day of class, sharp glances cut into the faces of the meek and vulnerable. It is the capitol of passivity and pretention, and this environment has tried every facet of finding self identification. Alliances were formed last fall, but have been tested in this new spring semester, where studio spaces are now occupied with enemy militia. It is within these walls that I find my appreciation and emotional awareness to be tested the most. The enemy comes in an array of forms: Caucasian, African-American, Asian, Trendy, Nerdy, and Intellectual to name a few. In any case, someone is always better than you.

The competitive aspect of architecture is only enhanced by the vagueness of the projects assigned. Trying to discern the context of the assignment is always confusing, and thus far in my ‘career’ I have been unenthused by the prospect of beginning a new design, drawing, or composition for fear that my peers and critics would disapprove of what I have most vulnerably exposed on display. This week, I have begun to implement a pivotal change of mind in order to further my success and emotional well-being. Previously, I would pass off reviews from my peers, and sometimes professors as only amounting to what they possess as aesthetically or compositionally appealing, and not necessarily to have any affect on further iterations of my own project. In regard to my peers in particular, I have felt that often times I can be overly critical of their work only to make my own seem a more appropriate solution to the same problem.


Monday morning in Design we had a review session of the first half of our “Light Project” assignment. Instead of being steadfast and unwavering towards the criticism, I decided I should embrace the suggestions and offer more positive feedback for the betterment of the whole. I have learned that appreciating outside input is more important than weighing my success over the successes of others’, and by contributing in a constructive way promotes a more positive atmosphere for everyone.

Lord Byron said, “The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist”. I have thus far lived a life in the desperate hope that others will be accepting of who I am, and have lived more out of fear than out of embracing what I have to offer. Success is my phobia. Success is my greatest flaw as a human being. I exist, but focus more on the impact of my existence than enjoying the road of life. It is time to explore the sensations found in the world. Socrates’ makes a very decisive argument in saying “the unexamined life is not worth living”. As I transcend the life that I have been comfortable with for sometime now, my newfound realization and execution of being a more emotionally aware and personally accepting individual will allow me to not only appreciate the beauty in others and my community, but further my investigation of self realization.







Word Count [without quotes]: 1400

"Pray for me child, even if for a while, that I might break out" - Damien Rice [Gray Room]

What does it mean to be an individual?

Forgotten Overture - Finding Neverland/Soundtrack Version - Jan A.P. Kaczmarek [Artist]

Living in the United States, the “land of the free”, we have all (mostly) been brought up in the comfort of an environment that emphatically reiterates how important the individual is. It is okay to be different. It is okay to be unique. From as long as I can remember I have been forced to take tests of what sort of personality color I am, and constantly test my own uniqueness. I enjoy this aspect of American life very much, and in no way am trying to belittle the freedoms that we have. What I find slightly hypocritical, however, is the inability within different aspects of life to appreciate what each of us have to offer to the greater whole. If religion is your thing, fight to death for it. If it involves animal humanities, go for it. If being a rebel is your cause, rise up. On top of all this, do not try and make something of another human being, or any part of mankind for that matter, or take advantage of their ignorance in order to capitalize on your own cause.

Lawrence Sullivan discusses Christianity by quoting the bible in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. “Love your enemies and pray for your persecutors; only so can you be children of your heavenly father.” I know that religion does have a lot of things to offer people, by why subjugate yourself into the rules of someone else’s story in order to try and find your way to heaven. If God says that he will be accepting of whatever you do, why does someone need to write the rules of regulating your every motive and subsequent actions? There are substantial fundamentals found in the bible as well. Sullivan points out two other references that do in fact ring true in everyday life that should be looked at further. The bible says, “If you love only those who love you, what reward can you expect?” as the Quar’an, the book of Islam says, “Live in this world as though you will live forever: prepare for the next world as if you were going to die tomorrow” (96). Both offer insight to the way that I try to live my own life. Why not be your own person, and be proud of that, and stand behind both your decisions and the actions that you regret and learn and experience from every breath that you thrive on. Who knows what the world of tomorrow holds for each of us, but why not be prepared for it NOT by being subjects to conformity, rather embracing diversity and peculiarity?

The other evening I was in my room watching a movie with a friend, when my roommate walked in. I was watching Finding Neverland. To most people, it is just one of those Johnny Depp or Kate Winslett movies that passes with no further attention, and maybe seems weird for a guy to be enjoying the film, or so my roommate thought when he mocked how I spent my Friday night. Finding Neverland to me holds much more meaning than it does to the average person. My father, after being diagnosed with his cancer clung to the ideals that the movie presented: living life to the fullest, and embracing the time that you have with family and friends. In addition, the soundtrack has gotten me through some of my most depressed times. It reminds me of my dad, and the trip to New York City that I took my senior year when I realized that there is more to life than suburbia and the fear of settling that I have for so long ran away from. The melodies remind me of the quirks of individuals, for Neverland is the inconceivable idea that every child has growing up, and the most mystical aspect of it is that it differs in every mind. Greg Garrard discuss Quammen’s elegy, and in his first comment states that the “death of an individual is also the death of its kind” (108). What is there for us to cling to if not for the mere thought of standing out in the world?

In regard to animal humanities, which personally I believe we have beaten over and over and have travelled in circles over, I do not think that we should put other species down because of their inability to defend themselves. As far as sustenance is concerned, I do not think that me eating meat is necessarily a bad occurrence. I have tried vegetarianism, but it wasn’t for me. For the last three years, I have given up meat for Lent (call me a hypocrite). In the forward of History of Vegetarianism, the author makes reference to how “diet, from the earliest times, was but one factor in a structure of concepts that interpreted the world” (110). I fervently believe that there is a pressing issue with the rightful treatment of animals in slaughter houses, but as far as my diet, I do not think it is the concern of anyone else to try and change.

In the first class of my Plan II TC “Morality and Politics” the professor, Devin Stauffer, said that he would rather us leave the class having not left anything from being said than having left feeling like there was more to say. I find that what he said is applicable to everyday life for all of us. In the same regard, I attended the funeral mass of a fellow Austin High classmate, Carson Starkey, who passed away in December. The presiding pastor urged the congregation to “live with urgency” just as Carson had done, and explore the possibilities of the world, and to make a name for ourselves, and not to continue passively going through life [www.withcarson.com]. In Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, Rick looks back on the events of his life and says to himself, “what a strange place for all of that to die”, and continued to try and detail “what [so-and-so] would have to say about [him]” (names unimportant) (228).

Life, for me, is a chance. It is a fluke occurrence that is brought about and given to each of us, and is not something that we should take lightly, but something that we should appreciate individually, and live for ourselves.

“ When the robot mind is mastered, undisciplined thinking ceases and is replaced by awareness. Awareness can know love.” - Barry Long

In the last year I have noticed more significant changes in my life than the first 18 years combined. These changes vary from being really simple and relatively trivial to some having an effect on my daily routine. I feel like I am a seemingly normal person, but am constantly reminded of how different I am from other people. I have allotted a good amount of time recently to trying to figure out what it means to be Benjamin Stelly, and although other people may not consider those things to abide by their own principles, I have to be able to stand for them myself.
I have presented the information before, though I have not tried an in depth study really at what effect my father’s ailment and subsequent death has had on me. I realized last summer that I never even let myself grieve over my loss, and upon this realization went through a very hard period of time where I felt negative a lot, and had a difficult time even leaving my bed in the mornings, or getting out of the house at all. As I continue to explore myself, I come to focus my attention more and more on how I view and treat other people in general… be they peers, friends, competition, elders, etc. and have made the realization that I do not like a lot of people, but don’t really understand why.

The definition of compassion that I found goes like this, “The feeling of emotion, when a person is moved by the suffering or distress of another, and by the desire to relieve it; pity that inclines one to spare or to succor” (41). The thing that I struggle with in my life is that I live in a hypocritical mindset that narrows my perspectives and gives too much attention and I get upset over things that not only do I have no control over, but things that shouldn’t even bother me in the first place. I tend to focus on the latter part of that definition. My compassion is two part: on one hand I am an extremely compassionate and emphatic friend and hold my relationships with the people whom I trust and value the most at this unobtainable level, while on the other hand I pity people who do not value things the way that I do. I know that this is wrong, and is something that I have worked, and continually work on figuring out the roots of the problem.

More importantly the dichotomy of my life of being so attached to some things and in disgust of others runs through everything that I am presented with. For example, my friends have tried to define my sense of humor with no avail. I am the kind of person who is turned off by the ‘commercialization’, for lack of better term, of ideas. Things that the majority would like… I tend to veer away from. HOWEVER, I do not consider myself to be the kind of person who likes things for the sole purpose of no one liking them or trying to be trendy about it. I believe that the fundamental rationalization behind this unorthodox mindset lies in my emotional attachment, and lack of emotional intelligence. In Goleman’s essay, he talks about how the “emotional brain is as involved in reasoning as is the thinking brain” (60), and is a defining problem in my life. Often times I feel far too emotional involved or sensitive, while a little coherent though would equate to a more appropriate response.

When asked about my greatest strength and weakness, I think that I have finally figured out what I would consider my most prominent flaw: lacking contentment. Ironically, the entire second semester of my senior year I dedicated to writing a thesis (of sorts) on the topic of obtaining the feeling of being content and happy in the moment. Instead of focusing my attention on how to really live up the time that I spend minute-to-minute, I continually analyze a situation and categorize events, music, comedic timing, and, although it may sound harsh, individual personalities. As I said, hypocritical should be a part of my name, I know that, but it is also something that I am devoting a lot of time to dealing with more effectively. I found some consolation in Goleman’s last statement. He said that, “to do well in our lives means we must first understand more exactly what it means to use emotion intelligently” (61).

I think that it compliments my erratic behavior to say that what I fear most is becoming an android of sorts. I value the fact that I am sensitive and emotional about things, it means that I am alive and thriving, and will one day change how things work that I dislike. In Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, there is a particular quote where one of the officers is discussing how to identify an automaton, and defines their characteristics by saying “an android doesn’t care what happens to another android. That is one of the indications” (101). Maybe I am a flawed human being, but at least I feel. To me there could be nothing worse than being a face in the crowd and blending in. It goes hand in hand with my goals to do something with my time that I am alive, and be proactive in changing wrongdoings.