If I had a restaurant...

As I sat down to eat my lunch, my mind raced, searching for something interesting to think about. When I looked at how colorful my food was, I thought, "If I had a bunch of time and money, I'd open a restaurant." Because of the wide variety of colorful vegetables and copious whole grains, I thought I'd call it "WholeSum," and it'd follow my philosophy of eating and only have 4 seasonings (salt, soy sauce, miso, olive oil) and I'd play off the name and incorporate some silly mathematical puns into the decor and serve reasonably priced organic food that was fresh picked, preferably from an urban garden and....

Then I caught myself and thought, "so basically, I just want to force my personal philosophy onto others in the form of food. Hmm...." I then thought about all the times I've had conversations with food nuts about the restaurants we'd open, and I realized that we all did that; we all just want to express our values and have diners come lavish us with praise and bathe in our brilliance. "Ah, that Jeff is so right!"

How adorably egotistical. : )

A small epiphany about poverty

As I was preparing yet another business school application essay, I caught myself making an assumption; I suggested (incorrectly) that poverty is an easily addressed problem, because it is a simple lack of resources. It's just a matter of figuring out how to get the resources from the rich areas to the poor areas.

Now, I don't actually believe that, but I caught myself thinking it for a moment as I brainstormed the essay. Then it made me think -- that's a pretty common misconception, isn't it? I think it has implications in charitable giving. I have no evidence to back this up, nor the initiative to do the research, but I think that people donate to poverty-related charities in large amounts in part because it seems like a very effective use of the money. Why? Because poverty appears to be a simple problem of unequal distribution of resources. I have a lot, you have very little, so I'll give some to you and this problem will go away.

Of course, this simplistic thinking ignores the fact that charitable giving is non-sustainable and can often have the adverse effects of creating dependence and causing abandonment of productive activities. Then when charitable giving drops in an economic downturn, or when the program the poor people were receiving aid from is shut down by the government, things are worse than they were before, because while they were receiving charity, they reduced their self-reliant productive output, and now have to scramble to raise their incomes or face dire consequences. (To give a rather simplistic example to counter some simplistic thinking)

People are probably more hesitant to donate to causes like drug-user clinics because there is a natural suspicion that the money will not be as effective in solving the problem, in part because it's not a simple equation of more -> less. They also know that it's a more complex problem, involving various difficult-to-control factors, such as addictive behavior, socioeconomic inequality, and education. On the other hand, overseas poverty appears to be simple; just send the dollars (or food, or clothing, or whatever) where they don't have enough! There isn't as much questioning of efficacy of the program, because it's somewhere far away, and because the expectations are lower for immediate resolution of the problem because the donor thinks "it probably hasn't been solved yet because other people aren't as generous as I am!" (well, maybe I shouldn't be that cynical... It's a joke!)

But really, it's just like gangs, drugs, crime, or any other seemingly intractable social ill -- it can't be solved by just throwing money at it, however logical that solution may seem...

Lawns update

A little addendum to the lawns rant I wrote earlier. Julia found a really good article from the New Yorker that has 100x the info, 100x the clarity, and 100x the persuasiveness of my post. Check it out.

Also, Michael Pollan apparently had something to say about it a few years back, and here's a good movement: foodNotLawns.com (it's pretty similar to this idea I was scheming up a few months ago)

To sum it up: lawns are pointless and a waste of resources. Do something cool with yours!

Some lighter stuff

Here are some emails I sent recently. I thought I'd just paste 'em in here since it'd be easier than making a really nice blog post.

This one was to a friend to explain the EG conference in Monterey, which is not only "just like TED," but started by the guy who started TED and then sold it. It starts off with a reference to Nicholas Negroponte...

yeah, he was slick. he was looking like james bond, pimping a couple of ladies before we interrupted him. hehe. not really, he's totally cool. I tried to extract some wisdom in our short conversation, but all i got was that he wished he had spent a little less time working and a bit more with family. when my friend asked if he thinks he would have accomplished all he has if he did, he said, yeah probably. either way, working "a little less" would probably be "working 3 times as hard as i do now" for me. It was cool though cause he was relaxing and taking it easy, not worrying too much about networking or anything else. but i guess you can do that when you're a superstar. all the leads come to you.

other than that, the conference was amazing. really great to see people from all different perspectives there. i felt a little sheepish at first since i "snuck a free ride," but people were really welcoming since we were so inquisitive and excited abuot the whole thing. it's just like ted, but you pay way more attention since the dude is 15ft in front of you and steve wozniak is in the row behind. pretty nuts. I just feel stupid for not having a "cause" that i could get people excited about so they'd give me ideas and such. When they put the videos online i'll tell u which ones were good. a lot of times the really unexpected guys will be the best. this dude from the discovery channel was an amazing speaker. just nuts. all the people were nuts really. if you see anyone on that list u want me to tell u more about then i will.

oh yeah, we also chilled with tim feriss (4 hr workweek), who was practically our age but totally amazing. Having read the book, julia expected him to be arrogant, (i haven't read it so i didn't know) but he was pretty cool and actually enjoyed talking to us. we almost got him to come over to our house, but he got caught up somewhere else, and left us a really long message about how he was sorry he couldn't make it. crazy man. you're there and u're like a superstar.

amory lovins - amazing person. julia took a class with him at stanford (he was a guest lecturer), and he's apparently this amazing dude with photographic memory and a track record of getting stuff done. he's just way too smart. i'm so glad he's working on environmental issues, cause he's making an impact.

the illustrator (mark pachter) was amazing, josh bell's violin was really cool to see up close (but not as impressive as the recording i have with henryk c. -- i can explain in more detail later), the egyptian dude zahi hawass was nuts (everyone was laughing at/with him)

this "behavioral economist" dan auriley was really funny (and he came over to our house after), there was this super-girl entrepreneur (who made this headset that you can control a video console with, also came over to our house), and david pogue (NY times tech guy) reminded me of steven colbert. berkeley breathed (author of opus, the comic) was really dirty, and D'amboise was really artsy feeling, but a bit old to be talking for that long.

overall, crazy. not that i needed a motivational boost, but it made anything seem possible. everyone was amazing and so accomplished, yet at the same time, so human. talking to them afterwards reminded me that they're just people and that the change I hope to make is totally within reach, it'll just take time.

As a side note, I kinda wished some of these people were aiming their talents at slightly more "fruitful" projects instead of being the world's best dilletantes. But that's a side note.

anyways, the lesson is, stay motivated, you'll get there for sure

Interesting how often I use the word "crazy." Here's an email about a bike crash that I sent to friend who recently got in a very serious crash in Korea.

how are you doing? i haven't heard much since kevin's last update. have you been moving around at all? i see you keep evading me on chat

i wanted to share a funny story. 2 days ago, i went out to bike on a cloudy day. i went up the usual route up sepulveda then decided to go down coldwater since it start to rain lightly. i was being really careful, but around the last turn, just as it was straightening out, there was flash of 3 instants. one was the front tire slipping out. 2 was the bike instantly metamorphosing from an extention of my body to an uncontrollable mass of aluminum, and me flying above it. 3 was my face smashing into the ground.

i got up and was scared i really hurt myself, so someone called the fire dept, which came in 2 minutes (from the top of the hill). they ambulanced me out just in case, and i got some stitches and xrays at sherman oaks hospital (the one with the big red cross that u can see from mulholland). i guess i got lucky, but damn, it's so easy to make a mistake...

i thought of u for most of the time, of course. i'm doing better now, but my arm hurts and it's tough to move it. anyways, here's a picture. thought u'd enjoy.

i hope things are lovely over there, and that you're enjoying the incredible gratitude you can only experience when recovering. don't lose that sense even after it's better. life is great.

much love (to kevin and mom too)

And here's the pic I attached. Somebody called me "jamface"

Expectations of sadness

When a Jewish person dies, family members in mourning “sit shiva,” the practice of inviting community members over each evening for one week to say prayers for the dead and comfort the family. Traditionally, the prayers cannot be performed unless a group of ten people or more, known as a minyan, is present at the home.

Immediately after losing a family member, most people are understandably devastated. Without an outside voice, the mood inside the home is almost exclusively that of sadness and loss. Each family member’s gloom reinforces that of the others. The general silence directs family members’ focus inward, where thoughts are invariably dominated by the recent loss. Recovery is long and slow.

The genius behind the shiva concept is lies in its pragmatism. By formalizing visits to the home for every day immediately after death, shiva ensures mourners have little time to sink in to silent despair because they are too busy entertaining guests, who themselves serve to enliven the general mood by providing sympathetic words, fresh perspectives, and lighthearted distractions. The concept of the minyan provides a good turnout because community members are driven to attend by the fear that prayer services will be cancelled if they stay at home. After completion of the prayers, a boisterous, lively conversation ensues, driven by the large crowd.

As for my experience, my sadness from mom’s death has been surprisingly manageable; meditation, staying positive, and expressing love and happiness for mom before she left have each contributed to my stability. My father doesn’t seem to be coping as easily. With some thought, the disparity is quite reasonable. Everyone subconsciously assumes that grandparents and parents will die first, but, barring a large age difference, nobody expects a significant other to die. A slightly unrealistic denial prevents those thoughts from ever carrying any serious weight, leaving us completely unprepared when it happens, even though it is inevitable for one member of the couple.

As a result, many people come over at all times of day to try to lift dad’s spirits. Many are adept at mixing comforting words with happy stories about mom. Others seem to talk more about themselves, but at least temporarily distract dad from his brooding thoughts. However, most seem unaware that their selfless objectives are sometimes in subtle conflict with the outcomes of their actions.

Most people expect us to be in a perpetual state of profound sadness (or at least any time they visit). However, that’s just not the case; nobody can stay in a state of gloom permanently. A problem arises when people attempt to commiserate with or console the mourners when they aren’t even feeling sad, because the only socially acceptable response for the mourner is to revive the sadness so as to graciously accept the condolences. The end result is the revival and reinforcement of sadness, which prolongs the mourning period – hardly a practical approach to helping someone cope.

To give an example, dad will be in a fairly good mood after doing some cleaning. A friend then comes over and, in a fully heartfelt manner, expresses her condolences. She says that he must be feeling so devastated. Although dad was feeling fine, he does not want to appear insensitive or detached, so he says that yes, he is in shock. He cites specific examples of the magnitude of his sadness (inability to sleep, feelings of confusion and loss), and in the process reminds himself of these feelings. His mood begins to shift back towards mourning. Worst of all, just as repeating a lesson solidifies its effect on the mind, so too will the sadness more firmly entrench itself in his long-term mood with each expression of mourning.

There is no doubt that everyone wants to help. None of our friends want to see us suffer. But due to the subtle effects of the mind, attempting to commiserate with a mourner may actually have the negative effect of prolonging suffering. While far from perfect, my personal method would be to greet the mourner with a smile and try to keep the conversation as cheery as possible, all the while making an effort to read his mood. I’d rather try to lead him to a brighter day than force him to relive his sadness.

After all, life goes on…

Goodbye to mom

I read this at mom's funeral, but it was a little incoherent since someone made changes and I didn't have time to review them. Anyways, here it is



I tried to think of something coherent or poetic to say, but nothing really came to mind. To be honest, I’m confused as to how I should feel. This is the first and last time I will experience this situation. But since I don’t really have any wise words to say, I’ll just tell you what I know: about the way I feel.

I’m struck by the rather odd position I’m in. my actual feelings are at odds with the way that I expected I would feel in this situation. I thought I would be drowned in sorrow, unable to stand or speak. I thought I would be in a terrible shock. But I’m not. That sense of sadness hasn’t come at all. Instead, I’ve been focusing on the positive: I’m happy that her death was such a comfortable one, without much pain or agony. I’m happy that we – her family and friends – were able to be with her for the whole duration. Many people don’t get that opportunity when they go. I’m happy that she accomplished what meant most to her: raising her sons well. I don’t see much to be sad about

The notion that it was more tragic because she was so young and healthy doesn’t really sit well with me. It’s based on the idea of life expectancy, the assumption that we will all live at least until the statistical average. In reality, it’s just a meaningless number. In reality, we could die at any time at any age from any number of causes. And people do. As a personal philosophy, I remind myself often that today could be my last.

Now, that idea might sound fairly pessimistic and dark, but thinking it through results in an extraordinarily positive outlook. With the wrong mindset, living to 120 years old could be a miserable experience. If moment after moment, our lives were filled with sadness or anger, life would hardly be worth living to any age. The idea that today could be my last reminds me that this life is finite, that there is certainly an end. It reminds me that I have to live each day happily and with meaning. The result is not to sit in a cloud of gloom, focusing only on the fact that I will die, but that I make an effort every day to improve the way I perceive things, and that I try to make a meaningful contribution to the lives of those around me. I might not ever be 100% happy, but making an effort is the only way that I know that could improve things.

Mom was not always optimistic and happy; she definitely had her share of unhappy times. But during her last few months, when things were the toughest, I saw her make an effort to express positive feelings and live life well. Little by little, things were improving. She was making the best of her time. That’s why today isn’t sad. That’s why, today, I’m happy.

(mom and dad in Koganei Park, April 2008)

Don't worry

Life may be confusing or hard, but it's only temporary.

Goodnight mom

Five minute post

There are a lot of things rolling around in my head today. Foremost is mom's condition, which is worsening each day. There will be no more treatment -- the cancer is now free to run its course. Regardless of the inevitability of her death, the finality of the statement that they won't treat her any more still managed to change the way I was viewing things in my mind.

Interestingly, the day after we were told that the doctors would no longer treat her was one of the happiest in my life. My mood was overflowing with a joy of life and beauty, perhaps triggered by the purity of the recently-washed skies. Further, I was feeling a growing conviction that this happiness should belong to all beings, and that my task is to do my best to make it so. The joy of realizing that the immense happiness I felt was not for myself but for others only reinforced the original mood. I was miles high.

I thought my mood would change when we went to pick up mom from the hospital, but it didn't. There was no dampening, only radiant happiness. I momentarily understood the concept of impermanence, that nobody and no thing will last forever, and understood that it meant I should make mom's current mental state the best it could be. I hope my happy mood reached her.

Today, however, I had a weakening of that spirit. I returned to an older version of myself that was more sentimental and attached. As we talked to her in her bed in the morning, I could barely hear her response to our question: "is there anything you want?" Normally, her concerns were with hydration or adjusting her position in the bed. But in a nearly inaudible voice, she said "I just want to be with you." The shock of the greater nature of her concern as well as the implicit defeat in her statement -- neither of which had she expressed until that point -- released the all-too-familiar feelings of tight warmth in my throat and watery eyes. All I could say in response was that we'll miss her, and there's nothing to worry about. I'm never very good at expressing exactly how I feel in words anyway. I'm really happy she's still here though. Maybe tomorrow I can try to give her more of my happy feelings.

Reincarnation

Religions tend to encourage belief in supernatural, unprovable, or unobservable concepts to direct followers' actions towards specific ends. Christianity's heaven and hell act as reminders to behave morally at all times. Judaism's concept of god brings weight to the teachings laid out by its founders. Some, however, lack an apparent purpose, and seem to be remnants from days when the world was understood differently. Shinto's belief in powerful spirits that can cause prosperity via offerings steeps the religion with an ancient, supernatural feeling. For some, the mystic nature of beliefs like these can be foundations for faith; they provide ideas that cannot be conclusively disproved by the methods of science. For others, they are meaningless traditions accepted only because followers from previous generations believed in them.

As I learn more about Buddhism, I find that belief in reincarnation is an accepted principle and is rarely questioned. Each being has been reborn an essentially limitless number of times in all possible arrangements, primarily due to actions in previous lives. At first, I thought that the idea was just another purposeless anachronism -- an imaginative tradition adapted from prevailing beliefs in India at the time of the Buddha. However, upon further reading, I discovered at least two possible purposes. The more obvious application is to encourage good, compassionate behavior so that one might be re-born in a better situation. This concept lacks weight for two reasons: proof of rebirth dependent on actions is lacking (thus reducing its efficacy as a motivator), and, more subtly, by implying that being reborn in better circumstances is highly desirable, it defies the essential Buddhist teaching that one's inner condition is not dependent on external circumstances, but is fully dependent on one's own (improvable) mindset.

Personally, I think the more exciting purpose relates to compassion. Patrul Rinpoche, a Tibetan Buddhist master, tells of one clever application of belief in reincarnation. To strengthen our compassion for others, we should remember that each being -- whether animal or human, friend or enemy -- has been our mother, father, or child in a previous life. We should therefore be concerned for the wellness of each being to the same degree as we are for our dearest family members.

I find this idea particularly empowering because it provides a concrete foundation from which to develop my compassion for strangers, enemies, and even animals. Even though I don't think reincarnation as described by the Buddhists could be possible, when I imagine that the person passing me on the street was my father in a previous life, I'm immediately filled with a sense of love and caring for him. It's much more effective than simply trying to draw up some abstract concept of love and cast it on a stranger; there is simply too much confusion as to how I should think, and how I should apply it, leaving little mental room for me to actually express the emotion. But, Buddhism skillfully uses reincarnation, the idea that we were all relatives in past lives, to harness the unfaltering, unquestioned, and naturally effusive love that exists between family members, and helps us apply it to all beings.

Cool.

Showers

I remember a time when I still took baths. I think I was in elementary school. I liked to soak for a good while, and occasionally enjoyed the pleasures of a bubble bath. I loved to play until my fingers and toes were completely wrinkled from sitting in the water for too long. At the time, I remembered hearing about "showers" from classmates and thinking how adult-like they sounded. There was an air of coolness about those who took showers instead of baths. They were so mature.

However, despite their adult-ness, showers are not just a quick rinse. We see them as a time to refresh, a time to relax, a time to think, or even a time to sing. The word "shower" seems to trigger more than its fair share of emotional overtones. We think fondly of our own personal interpretation of the shower ritual whenever the word is mentioned.

Recently, I've made an effort to simplify my life and spend more time doing what's important. In the process, I've reexamined my own habits, including showers. However obvious it may be, it took this process of introspection to remind me that the purpose of a shower is to get clean. Using the focus I've developed through meditation and other means, I have changed my showers from something vague and contemplative into something swift and efficient. Once a rather passive activity of warming myself with the heated water, it has become a brisk, focused experience that serves to quicken my wandering mind.

Showers are like most things; there is no "right way" to take them. But having rethought a nearly subliminal ritual, I feel that it now serves me instead of controlling me by putting me in a pleasant, mindless state.

Death sentence

My mom has been dealing with her kidney cancer in the best way she knows how. At times, she's driven to helpless despair when she realizes that she has no control over her own life, but at times, she is freed from awareness of her condition, conversing about mundane topics. She's still walking on her own and taking care of some household chores, but she seems to tire easily. She still goes to work two days a week. Overall, an uninformed observer might say that she's doing pretty well.

When my brother and I told dad about our upcoming travel plans, he pulled us aside, and in a hushed tone, sealed her fate. "The doctors say she has at most a few months, more likely, a few weeks." At that moment, the faint glow of hope flashed into a deep, empty blackness. My ability to naively silence the truth, the morbid inevitability that she will die, suddenly vanished. Such certainty, such coldness. The tears in his eyes confirmed his words like the smash of the gavel. It has been decided.

May we spend our remaining time wisely.

Lawns

An odd symphony, a mix of several monotonous hums that alternately approach and recede, fills the air. The smells of cut grass and motor exhaust waft in through the open windows, forcing me to recognize that it's Tuesday; the gardeners are here. Watching them swiftly move from house to house, I think about the time, effort, and resources put into the upkeep of the shimmering green lawns that they tend, and wonder where the tradition of keeping a neat little patch of grass in the front yard came from.

A quick glance at wikipedia satisfies my curiosity. Predictably, the history of the lawn can be traced to England, where plentiful rain watered the grazing fields for various livestock, which kept the wild grasses of the "lawn" trim and neat. In the 17th century, lawns became an important element in the gardens of the elite, who had their labor-intensive gardens maintained by paid laborers. The infatuation with the low-cut, green patches slowly spread to all classes of people, firmly entrenching the lawn's position in the minds of westerners as an essential part of the garden. Thanks to industrialization and complex irrigation systems, a spacious, lush lawn occupies the front and back yards of my parents' home in arid Southern California.

The seemingly thoughtless acceptance of the lawn's place in the garden, particularly in places unsuitable for water-hungry grasses, intrigues me. In Los Angeles, to keep lawns green in the middle of a desert, households use an average of 500 gallons of water a day, a third of which is wasted in the form of runoff (according to this interesting LA Times article). To speed up work, gas-powered tools, both noisy and polluting, are employed to keep the grasses clean and pretty. A crude calculation shows that lawns occupy somewhere around five percent of the LA metropolitan area, perhaps significant when considering urban sprawl. At such an environmental cost, what value do lawns bring?

Many people argue that they provide psychological comfort and provide space for children to play. The beauty of a lush green lawn gives a sense of home, or perhaps one of an oasis, buffering the mind from worldly troubles. Not to mention that children can be let loose on the forgiving surface. However, these lawn advocates implicitly downplay the beauty of gardens made with local vegetation and ignore the possibility of using public parks. Regardless, even if the benefits do outweigh the costs, Americans have so thoroughly supplanted (?) lawns in their front yards that they cease to be aware of them at all. Like so many other luxuries we take for granted, they have become an accepted necessity in our lives, and we are forced to seek further novelties in a never-ending cycle of wanting, getting, and then forgetting; a vain attempt to satisfy our all-important and never-ending needs. (hmm, sort of random)

Maybe I'm taking it too far in suggesting that it's a result of a deeper problem, our inability to question our innate, nagging demands; our busy minds that can't see through the untamed thoughts and desires to the reality that stands before us. (fix that) Maybe it's a much simpler issue. Still, I think it's worth a thought.

A house has a garden, and a garden is a lawn.




(join me here on my quest to convert a portion of my parents' back yard lawn into a vegetable garden! [ADD LINK])

will you make me sad... or happy

In The Monk and the Philosopher, Buddhist monk Matthieu Ricard discusses the subtle points of Buddhist thinking with the philosopher Jean-Francois Revel, who is also Mattheiu’s father. Towards the middle of the book, a dense 330 page dialogue between father and son, they argue the flaws and merits of Buddhism’s approach to solving social ills such as war, poverty and disease. Revel is quick to point out that Buddhism’s approach is more passive than the one taken in the West, where problems are tackled head-on using technology or by leveraging political power. Ricard counters that many of the problems can be solved from within, to which Revel objects, particularly in the case of illness.

Ricard’s arguments in the discussion of the solutions to war were particularly thought-provoking. His father asks how Buddhism would bring an end to armed conflict, to which Ricard replies, “…outer disarmament can only take place through inner disarmament. If the individual doesn’t become more peaceful, a society that’s the sum total of such individuals will never become peaceful either. … To think otherwise is surely utopian.” I find this particularly striking, since at first glance, it seems quite the opposite; the suggestion that every individual in every nation must go through a self-driven process of introspection and spiritual learning before peace can be achieved seems fairly utopian. However, this is a viewpoint in which I find much truth. How could anyone expect peace between nations, states, tribes, or even neighbors when all parties involved have not developed their compassion to a level where it rules over anger, animosity, and jealousy? Hateful thoughts lead to hateful deeds; this cannot be denied.

The argument conjures up my personal perception of the West’s general viewpoint concerning conflict -- that as long as man exists, there will be war. Greed and animosity will persevere for as long as humankind; we will never see an end to strife. However, I would like to add a conditional statement to that view, that there will always be war only if individual people do not make a conscious attempt to express love rather than hate, or gratitude rather than jealousy. If we trust the ancient wisdom of Buddhism and its science of happiness, we know that the path to individual happiness involves undertaking those very efforts -- elimination of animosity and ignorance in favor of compassion and wisdom. Therefore, however unlikely it may be that all humans simultaneously begin to practice Buddhist ideals, it is not unreasonable to assume that if we all make an effort to be individually happy, the horrors of war would become a thing of the past. All we need to do is to make an effort towards real happiness. I cannot conceive of a task for which we should have greater motivation, considering it is our own condition -- misery, happiness or something in between -- that we decide.

Certainly a logical argument, anyways.