Another tragedy has occured. This time on the other side of the world, in New Zealand. A madman walked into a house of worship, two in fact, and slaughtered 50 people. He wanted to kill more. He apparently wanted to kill all.
He’s insane. Even if he’s not clinically, or criminally insane, anyone who carries that much hate and thinks the way to address it is to hurt others is literally not of sound mind.
You’ve no doubt heard about the tragedy. Just as you probably heard about the last one. And the one before that. All the way back to the Columbine massacre which is kind of thought of as the beginning of the current craziness.
This post isn’t about guns, or school shootings, or policy. Well, not government policy.
My name is Rodney M Bliss. (Hopefully that was already obvious since the blog site is www.staging.rodneymbliss.com.) I sign my emails with my electornic signature. If I’m being more casual, I might sign them simply “Rodney.”
But, that’s not what my lovely wife calls me. That’s not what my brothers call me, or my cousins, or my mother, or my closest friends. They all call me Rod.
Occasionally, a work collegue who first meets me will presume to call me Rod. If they ask, I correct them. If they are good friends, I’ll reply,
My friends call me Rod. You can call me Rodney.
It gets a laugh, but I’m also serious. In my own private little world, it’s a big deal when you go from calling me Rodney to calling me Rod. My name is currency and you only get to spend it if I offer it to you.
Salespeople understand the power of a name. They will use your name to attempt to establish a rapport. If they can get you on a first name basis, they are half way toward establishing a relationship of trust. That’s what names do. They help us build trust. They are the most personal of our possessions. More personally even than our bodies. Someone can abuse your body, but they cannot take your name unless you give it to them.
Names have power.
I don’t know the name of the killer in New Zealand. I’m sad to say that I don’t know the names of the victims either. But, I would be honored to hear their names. I don’t care to ever hear the name of the murderer.
It’s the same for the other tragedies and murderers. I don’t want to know the killers’ names. I think it’s important for us to understand the details of what lead up to each tragedy and discuss how to prevent them, or at least to limit their scope.
But, the names of the killers? I don’t have any interest in them. With this latest tragedy, I’ve seen some news stories that suggest the world should adopt a similar strategy. The killers crave attention. They want notoriety. They seek fame. Something our modern social media is perfectly suited to provide. Facebook worked quickly to remove the video of the latest shooting. They took down over 1.5M copies.
So, if you want to do something. If you are angry and want to do your part to make a difference, even a small one. Remember the power of names, the currency that is in a name.
And stop spending that currency on the killers.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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(Photo credit: Shaun Yeo https://twitter.com/YeoCartoons/status/1106407374405795840)
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I’ll grant you that Sept 19 is a contender for geekiest holiday. It’s International Talk Like a Pirate Day. And May 4th is a good choice too. “May the Fourth be with you.”
But, in my view March 14 is the greatest geek holiday. For today, is “Pi Day.”
3.141592653589793238462643…
What is pi?
Pi: the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter.
You’re probably familiar with the equations that use pi.
Circle Circumference = 2 pi * radius
Circle Area = pi * radius. * radius
Sphere Volume = 4/3 * pi * radius * radius * radius
Pi is a unique number. It’s undefined. That means it literally cannot be written out. The current record was calculated by Nicholas Sze a researcher at Yahoo. He tell us that the the two hundred-quadrillionth digit is “0.”
We’ll have to take his word for it.
The math to explain why pi cannot be calculated is beyond me. But, if we were to simply decide that an irrational number was too hard to deal with, we could define pi as simply 3.14. If we did, the only problem is that literally every other number would have to be defined as an irrational number.
If we did, maybe we could give them all names. I would suggest different flavors of pie.
The end
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2019 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that wihich is done is that which shall be done:
and there is no new thing under the sun.
– Eccclesiastes 1:9
Have you ever seen something new? Something completely unseen by anyone except you? If you think about it, the opportunity to see new places for the first time is rare. Neil Armstrong, when he stepped out onto the surface of the moon, was the first person to see the lunar surface. James Cameron, the famous film director, recently decended 7 miles to the bottom of the Mariana Trench. He was the first man to do so. Sir Edmund Hillary and his Sherpa guide Tenzing Norgay were the first men to see the top of Mt Everest.
But, such feats are rare. So rare that we know their names. They get written about in history books and have wikipedia articles about them.
But, what about you? Have you ever seen something for the first time? Ever made a unique discovery?
Without even meeting you, I can tell you that you have. If you have been lucky enough to witness the birth of a child, you no doubt remember the moment. That’s truly a unique first. You might not think so at first. After all, there are 7 billion people on earth and perhaps has many as 50 billion have ever lived.
But, each one is unique. Each one, when born is the first and only of it’s own. The same thing happens when you hear your child’s first words. They are utterly and completely unique, just as unique as the first glimpse from the top of Mt Everest.
But, uniqueness extends to even more mundane items. I love apples. Red Delicious are my favorite. (How fortunate that it’s also the most affordable.) An apple is a pretty bland looking item. Mostly round, with a stem. Anywhere from baseball to softball sized. Colors can be red, green, yellow or some mix of all three.
And yet, an apple is completely unique. When you pick up an apple, no one has ever seen the insie of that apple. When you take a large bite out of the apple, you are exposing something that has never been seen.
So, what’s the point?
The point has to do with people. Each person you meet is unique. Each person is unlike anyone you’ve ever met before. Each has a unique story and a unique voice.
I’ve never met a boring person. If you ask the right questions, everyone has a story to tell. Everyone is unique and interesting. If you come away from a conversation bored, it’s you who has failed to see the uniqueness.
Something to think about the next time you bite into an apple.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2019 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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It’s been a little painful,
And I hope I don’t like pain,
’cause I’d hate to think of myself like that
– Don McLean “It’s A Beautiful Life”
I guess we’re going to spend one more day talking about therapy. We’ll get back to the IT/Camping/Training issues next week.
I’m about to start on EMDR therapy. It’s EYE MOVEMENT DESENSITIZATION ADN REPROCESSING. Like many therapy techniques it requires facing some unpleasant issues from my past. Many of them have to do with work. (My Manager From Hell.) Some have to do with other life events.
Until we get into revisiting the events, I won’t know how traumatic they end up being. In order to make sure I don’t get too traumatized, we need to find a mental/emotional “safe” place. A place where I can retreat to if the therapy gets too intense, if I hit my emotional pain threshold.
It made me think. Physical pain and emotional pain are very interconnected for me. I tried to imagine a situation where that might happen, where I might hit my emotional pain threshold.
We are all the hero of our own story. By that I mean that when we imagine ourselves in stressful situation, we also imagine ourselves performing heroically. We save the ship, kill the bad guy and rescue the princess.
But, most of us never find ourselves piloting a ship in a hurricane, or fighting a death match, or on a quest to some far off land. We have no way of knowing how we would react. For example, I think we would all like to believe if we were on Flight 93 on September 11, 2001, that we too would join with our fellow passengers and storm the cockpit.
But, until we find ourselves tested in that situation, we can’t actually know.
I don’t think I’ll reach my emotional pain threshold during therapy. I’ve only ever reached it one time. It was when I thought one of my children had died and I found out he had not. But, despite a PTSD reaction to blood, I attended the birth of my three birth children. I find myself running toward the things that go bump in the night.
I’m going to cut away the wart tissue on your toe. It doesn’t have any pain sensors in it. But, when I get to the good tissue, you’ll feel it. And then I’ll use liquid nitrogen to burn away the last of the wart tissue. That will hurt a lot.
Okay.
I’m going to continue burning into the good tissue to make sure we get all the wart tissue. Stop me when it gets too painful.
That was nearly twenty years ago. I still remember lying on the exam table, the doctor with his back to me. The wart was right at the point where the cuticle meets the nail. The doctor was correct. It hurt. It hurt a lot. It hurt worse than anything I’d ever felt.
And then he hit it with the liqued nitrogen again and it hurt even worse.
I thought about asking him to stop. But, killing a wart is a multi-step project. If I quit now it would just take longer next time. He kept going.
Eventually, he stopped, of course. I think he was afraid of going on. I was definitely hurting. I put my sock and shoe back on and limped back out to my car. I sat down, started the car, turned the heater up, leaned my seat back and promptly went into shock.
I knew it was coming on. I prepared for it. But, I still didn’t stop the doctor. I’m sure I have a pain threshold. But, it’s higher than having my big toe burned with liquid nitrogen.
I wonder if my emotional pain threshold will be equally hard to reach.
If not, at least I’ll have that emotinoal happy place.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2019 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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LEXAPRO: Brand name for escitalopram. An antidepressant of the selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRI) class. Mainly used to treat major depressive disorder or generalized anxiety disorder
I don’t need medication. How do I know? Because I feel fine. I feel normal. Seriously, I’m good. I don’t get anxious anymore. And since Lexapro is for people who are anxious, I don’t need it. . .right?
And yet. . .and yet. . .I’m not fine. I know I’m not, but I don’t feel I’m not. When your feelings and your intellect are out of sync, you need help. Medication? I don’t think so. It’s the medication that is causing the mismatch in expectations.
But, the medication is working. And that’s now part of the problem. Strange how it works out. No meds, and I don’t feel normal and I realize I need meds. Take the meds, and I do feel normal and now I don’t feel like I need the meds. Kind of mixed up.
Therapy, I guess.
Even therapy is mixed up. I explain my background to the thrapist. I talk about my experiences to the therapist. She asks me things about things that she doesn’t know and I do. Or I should. All the informaiton comes from me, and yet. . and yet. . I need her to tell me what I mean. I need her to tell me what my stories mean. But, all the answers are really in my head.
So, I take medicine when I feel fine and I tell a perfect stanger stories that she doesn’t know so she can tell me what they mean.
If I wasn’t in therapy and on meds, I’d probably need to take meds or go to therapy.
I think it means it’s working.
I hope so.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2018 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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My father is a professional concert conductor.
It must be great to attend concerts with him.
No, it’s terrible. He hates to go.
I like talking to people. I like to think I’m not too bad at it.The key to talking to people is to ask interesting questions and then just listen and let them talk. It’s a weird thing, but if you meet people and you let them talk, afterward, they will think you are a very smart person.
Honestly, everyone is an interesting person. Every personal has an interesting story. Everyone has a favorite movie, a favorite vacation, kids, pets, hobbies. Everyone has something they like to talk about.
But, there are some people that you just can’t talk to. There are some people that if you get them talking, it’s terrible. They won’t shut up. And talking constantly isn’t a bad thing. It’s the subject.
You cannot talk to an expert. Not unless you are also an expert.
I hope you enjoy the festivities. There’s talk of a blizzard.
Well, we may catch a break and that blizzard’s gonna blow right by us. All of this moisture coming up out of the south by midday is probably gonna push on to the east of us. And at high altitudes it’s gonna crystallize and give us what we call snow. Probably be some accumulation. But, here in Punxsutawney, our high’s gonn get up to about 30 today, teens tonight.Chance of precipitation, about 20% today, 20% tomorrow. . .Did you want to talk about the weather or were you just making chitchat?
-Groundhog Day
Experts are boring. Experts have their own language. And most experts love to talk about their expertise. My friend’s father really is a professional conductor. And she hates going with him to a concert. He cannot enjoy a concert. He is too busy critiquing the conductor.
John Williams is one of the most famous composers in Hollywood. He’s done the music for dozens of films. He’s the one who wrote the Star Wars “da-da-da dut-da-da dut-da-da.” John Williams has never watched one of the movies he wrote the music for. Johnny Depp has a similar aversion to seeing his work. Maybe it’s because they are professionals.
I’m an IT guy. I understand computers. I don’t know everything about computers. When I started 30 years ago, that was possible. But, having lived and breathed this industry for three decades, I have stories, and I have experience. The two often go together.
Hey, Doc, how are you doing? Haven’t seen you since high school.
Yeah, I’m consulting now. Doing IPv4 to IPv6 migrations.
Really? Are the two going to be able coexist? I mean can you have IPv6 addressed devices and IPv4 addressed devices on the same network?
You know what? Let’s just focus on the reunion.
Watch for it the next time you are talking to someone. Or better yet, when they hear other people talking. Pay attention to the experts. They can teach you a lot. But, only if they are not allowed to talk to each other.
Oh, and if you are an expert, realize that you need to be careful how you talk to people. Don’t be too smart.
The end
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2018 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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My therapist gave an exercise. She wanted me to write a letter from my emotional side to my intellectual side, and one from the intellectual side back to the emotional side.
Yesterday I posted the letter from my emotional side. My emotional side called my intellectual side an idiot. Here’s the response.
Dear Rod,
You called me an emotional idiot. Well, I have some news for you. I DON’T CARE. Yes, I’m analytical. Yes, I do cost/benefit analysis and risk/reward studies about decisions. But, you know what? It works. It definitely works better than letting you be in charge.
We’re out of debt, except for the house. We HAVE a house. No one is coming to repossses our cars. We’ve got a good paying stable job that we like. None of those things were true when YOU were making decisions for us.
Remember Wisconsin? You pressed us to take that job because you were too scared to be unemployed any longer. It was a “lets run away and play rafting guide” plan. And it sucked!
Don’t you DARE ever ask me “what’s the worst that can happen?” That was close to the worst, foreclosed house, $80,000 in debt, people coming to take the cars. And we ended up unemployed anyway. We ended up in a 3 stall horse barn with a port-a-potty outside and 12 kids to care for. THAT is what can happen when you “follow your BLISS.”
I know you’d rather be free to ride around the country on a Harley Davidson wearing a Rolex. (Did I leave out any bucket list items?)
So, yes, we are going to do things MY way. Your way is too dangerous.
Remember that scout camping trip through Western Colorado? Driving 70 MPH through the dark Colorado backroads. Doug was driving, we were in the passenger seat and five scouts were in the back watching a DVD. Doug didn’t realize the highway went down to a single lane in each direction. The first car barely missed up us and Doug froze. What would YOU have done? It’s precisely BECAUSE I’m the “emotional designated driver” that we are still alive. I told Doug, “You are in his lane. You’re in his lane.” He then cut back into our lane.
Without that emotionally bankrupt response we’d be dead. You, me, the scouts, Doug. We’d be one more gruesome statistic. Instead the boys never even knew there’d been an issue.
You know what the designated driver gets to do? He gets to go home every night. Is any amount of “partying” worth risking that? I don’t think so. You might say, “Yeah, but it’s a rare thing that something like that happens.” It only takes once. Screw up one time and people can die.
Embrace life? What do you think I’ve been doing? House, cars, kids in college, and missions. THAT is life. It’s the messy, unglamourous bits. It’s getting up at 2:00AM to deliver newspapers for $1600/month and trying to pick up extra routes. It’s driving old cars that are fully paid for. It’s finding the joy where you can and not necessarily chacing somewhere else to look for it. It’s realizing that a lot of times it can be a slog.
If the tradeoff is being an emotional idiot, an emotional cripple, then that’s a tradeoff that I’d make every single day and count myself lucky to have the choice.
Yes, I’m having an argument with myself and posting it on the internet. I did mention I was in therapy, right?
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
Follow him on
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2018 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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Yesterday I talked about an exercise that my therapist asked me to do. I was to write a letter from my emotional side to my intellectual side and one from my intellectual side to my emotional side.
This is the letter from my emotional side to my intellectual side.
Dear Rodney:
You’re an idiot. No, you’re not stupid. Not in terms of intelligence. You might even be a genius. But, emotionally you’re an idiot.
You pride yourself on “Standing Outside The Fire” as Garth Brooks would say. You work each day like it might be your last. Why? So you won’t be emotionally hurt when you get fired.
I’m sure you have a nice cost/benefit analysis, or risk/reward workup, or pro/con strategy all worked out. It’s fake. You’re scared to care too much. Don’t want something too much and you won’t be too disappointed when you don’t get it. You’re the emotional designated driver, so concerned with not getting hurt that you never really get to enjoy the party.
Is there really anything that can emotionally reach you? Death of a child? A child’s mission call? Spouse sickness?
You always have to have a clear path to the exit. Don’t want to get trapped. I wonder why not? What’s the harm in shooting for the stars? You might miss? You might crash and burn? You might look foolish? You might come to depend on someone else, really need them and they will let you down?
Take a chance
Live
Laugh
Love
you might as well already be dead if you aren’t going to embrace life.
Signed,
Your Emotionally Suppressed Other Half
Not sure if I get to argue with myself over it.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2018 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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I want you to write a letter from the emotional side of your personality to the intellectual side and another from the emotional side to the intellectual side.
The request came from a therapist. She was my therapist. I’d been dealing with anxiety issues. Therapy and a mild prescription for Lexapor, and I was doing better. Doing better at working through my issues. But, I still had issues.
The thing about therapy is like going to the doctor for a mild cough and during the exam they diagnose high blood pressure, a cancerous mole and a fractured tibia.
You start working on the cough, but naturally you also start addressing the other issues.
People meeting me would not describe me as emotionally distant. I’ve had lots of practice working with people. I’ve done training, hours of it. I’ve performed in front of people, hundreds of times. I’m really good at conversation. (BTW, the key is asking questions and then really listening to the other person’s responses.)
But, it’s an act. What’s weird is that it’s a really good act and it’s an act I at out every day.
Know how you feel good about something? You act like you feel good about it and hope no one notices.
My therapist thinks I keep my emotions repressed. She’s right of course. But, hey, it’s worked so far.
Well, I’m sitting in a therapists office getting ready to write letters to myself personifying two sides of my personality.
So, maybe it didn’t work as well as I think.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2018 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved