The Strength To Be Vulnerable.

This might get slightly rambly, or I might go to sleep pretty soon-ish, so I'm not entirely sure, but you have been warned! Kind of as a sidenote, I wanted to mention how I just realized it is the 100th anniversary of the First World War, only after stepping into Waterstones today and seeing the poppies ringed by books on the war.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
      Between the crosses, row on row,
   That mark our place; and in the sky
   The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
   Loved and were loved, and now we lie
         In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
   The torch; be yours to hold it high.
   If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
         In Flanders fields.


And I also started reading about the crisis developing in Ukraine, a country I was on the verge of visiting just this last Christmas.It's hard to read the reports critically without feeling a strong sense of pro-West sentiments, and to discount Russian interests altogether as yet another example of a power-play etc. Who can say without bias which is true? I think there is a danger of being overly sympathetic to the west, and yet how much choice do we actually have? It is unfortunate, I feel, that so much of the anti-West/anti-interventionist rhetoric stems from the militant crusades (or so it seems?) of other administrations. Unfortunate, and yet these are undeniable facts, misguided excursions into Vietnam, Korea, Middle East etc. It's extremely difficult, if not downright impossible, to see past all these heated arguments from angry people from both sides of the debate.

That's not my main point here, which is that 100 years on from World War 1, we have here yet again another flashpoint in Europe, with the potential for enormous destruction, possibly. The irony cannot be lost on too many. It's too easy to discount it as politics, the results of a power hungry Kremlin, a weak Obama-led administration etc, because it has undeniably real life effects. How can we avoid the mistakes of conflicts past? From the Crimean War of the mid 1800s, which led, if not quite inevitably, but definitely in shaping the geopolitical landscape of the 19th and 20th century, to World War 1, to the alarming unfolding of events today. Stoked only by endless rhetoric, mind games, so called high politics. What have we learnt in the last 100 years?

Half a league, half a league,
  Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death,
  Rode the six hundred.
'Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns' he said:
Into the valley of Death
  Rode the six hundred.

How close are we once again to the valley of death, how rapidly are we charging forward straight into the "mouth of Hell"? Sometimes you look at the human race and you despair. And it's not enough for us to say it does not concern us, does it not feel sometimes as if it's our humanity itself that's at stake? Just because we're geographically and politically (with which I would dissent) removed from Ukraine does not mean we can afford to simply ignore the entire affair and to leave it in the hands of the politicians.

I'm not saying there's all that much we can do about it, but at the very least we have to think about it. We owe that at least to... humanity, I think. We can't afford to just look upon such world events and think that just because it's out of our control, we shouldn't have to think about it at all. Such indifference will be the end of us as a collective, a dangerous step away from complete self-absorption, caring only about those 15 new must-try cafes or whatever. Yes, politics is boring and probably what we think or don't think never actually affects the outcome of events, but this is the fate of the world we are talking about. As ridiculously dramatic as that sounds, we do have a vested interest in the fate of Ukrainians half the world away.

I guess as a professional military man I have perhaps been conditioned to think about such matters critically, perhaps even strategically, and it might even be that it is part of my professional duty to do so. But I think it cannot be the case that something as potentially catastrophic as this be the domain solely of politicians and warfighters. I'd like to think that even if I weren't doing this job I'd still concern myself with matters such as these. Matters which matter. World affairs don't just mean things going on in other parts of the world, it refers also to things which affect the world.

I'm also thinking about things like national sovereignty, what does it mean, or even what is the point of it? Pit against the will of the people on the Crimean peninsula? How far are we willing to let the doctrine of sovereignty go, perhaps against the backdrop of human rights or other abuses? Peaceful annexation, inasmuch as such a thing can ever be said to exist, can that ever be allowed, or is that always evidence of weakness, of concession? It's not too hard to extrapolate the effects of those questions to our own nation, and if the answers are unimaginable to us.. Well, it doesn't matter what the answers are maybe, only that we actually spend time consciously thinking about such things.

In any case, there you go, some thoughts on the troubles brewing in Crimea, in the light of my recent belated discovery that it's been 100 years since World War 1. Wasn't actually the point of my posting at 4am in the morning but it feels too important to not do so. Was just chatting to a friend who said something (not on the Ukraine crisis) along the lines of, aiya it doesn't matter to us anyway lah, why worry? Ostriches and burials etc, hey?


I wanted, really, to write about (maybe to?) the friends back home whom I dearly love. And that is not a word I bandy about with impunity. I just had a Skype call with a couple of them lasting hours, and it was just about the most encouraging conversation I've had. Surprising, too, in many ways. Surprising in ways which surprised me, because surely 10-year old friendships can't have too much more in the way of surprises? Dead wrong about that, though. And gladly so.

One of the... ideals, I guess, I've always aspired towards is Strength. I think so much of my life has been dominated by this striving. Whether it be for intellectual strength, physical, moral even. But I never really knew what it was for. Strength for Strength's sake, it seems. And so much of my own conception of "strength" actually derived from my ability to not seem weak. Which seems like it should make sense, but I assure you that no adequate definition of strength can be had on that basis alone. Running away or avoiding the things you're not good at, the things you're unwilling to confront, is precisely what strength is not. And so, because I was not, or because I felt not, weak, I thought I had sufficient strength. Sufficient for what? and even then I was not too sure.

I think this ties in with my.. shall we say misguided, quest for independence. I wanted to be strong enough to be alone, and all my formulations of strength revolved around the idea of having enough strength for myself. Misguided, as I've come to learn only in the very recent past. Not needing people doesn't make you strong, it belies an inability to confront the reasons behind not wanting (or not wanting to need) people in your life. I'm not saying independence is wrong or in any way undesirable, merely reflecting on my own brand of it and my personal justifications for it, as they were. I sought to hide my greatest vulnerabilities behind a thin veneer of.. something, and I called it Strength.

So to link this back to the conception of this post, I feel as if I finally discovered a reason to be strong. And it is not merely for myself. If you can't be strong enough for the people you care for, then your strength is as nothing. If no one can rely on your strength, then what do you have it for? What I'm saying is that I have a friend who is hurting, and if I cannot in some small way help him or support him, then what for my "strength", my precious self-esteem and ego, my carefully constructed image? What are they good for when it comes down to crunch time? What for all this "growth", these searing soul-searching solo trips to Europe and beyond, all these accumulated experiences, all this time of rumination and reflection, if the only person who benefits from it all is myself? Can I possibly be that selfish?

I'd like to think not. I'm not saying strength is not useful until there are demands to be met, but you have to know what you're building up your supply for. It cannot be that you're building for the sake of building, surely? Just to be able to say you are Strong, or a Mighty Man of God. There's a reason for all this, for all these late nights, for all these things we have to endure, for the hurts and the pains we put up with day in and day out, the daily slog, all these "opportunities for growth". We were not made to live this life alone.

So in church today I heard that "You cannot serve others unless you're willing to be served by the Lord." Ouch. How many of us run around seeking to serve God, at some level (perhaps without even knowing it) trying for some of that "self-justification" we hear so much about? We do so much (or so we think?) to serve God, but it is in some way some form of defence against being served? Because surely if I can do so much for the Kingdom of God then I have no need for any help myself! If I weren't already there, God wouldn't let me do all these things for Him. And that's how we settle ourselves into this weird... complacency? or at least some form of self-satisfaction, some state of affairs we're willing to accept, that we're comfortable living with.

My immediate reaction to prayer calls is to look around for people to pray for, almost, and how much of that belies an unwillingness to be prayed for? Some reaction or mechanism within me that says, I have to be the strong one here! No one should see that I, too, have prayer needs, so I shall pray for others instead. Some sort of preservation of image even? I don't know. But it's almost as if I feel like I'd be judged were I to raise my hand one day, were I to ever be seen to be in need of prayer. How odd it is for church to be the one place where people would be unwilling to be prayed for. I'm speaking for myself, but I imagine it cannot be in isolation either. The dangers of church and the desire to be holy, to be seen as holy, the pressures of seeing everyone else who appears to have their own perfect prayerful lives. But that's not a church thing, though. It's a people thing.

Can I ever allow myself to be vulnerable? Can I afford to? No, I don't dare to. Slowly, however, I'm beginning to think that the answer is yes, but it's a struggle. I've spent far too long pretending to be strong, perhaps I even was, at times, for my defences to crumble so quickly. At a reflective, intellectual level I know one day I will have to open myself up, but how I resist it so. Something inside still tells me that no you can't afford to be vulnerable if you care too much you bare too much never ever expose yourself. Never.

I've spent years nursing that philosophy, putting it into practice, honing it to razor sharpness, fortifying those walls. But I've got to let it all go now. I am sure that it's holding me back, that it's unhealthy. I know that, and yet I am clinging on. Sometimes all the intellectual, logical conclusions flounder in the face of long years of habit, of well-established comfort zones.

Funny thing is, much as we'd like to pretend God doesn't know the things we try to hide, He does. The things that matter so much to us, that we think would affect our relationship with God in such a negative manner, aren't new to Him at all. He knows, and He does not love us any less for it. A beautiful message from back home on the Samaritan woman at the well, thanks to an awesome friend who's faithfully been sending me sermons week after week! How often do we conceal these dark, awful things, because you wouldn't love me if you knew? Perfect love cannot be without perfect knowledge, and perfect love operates despite perfect knowledge. A little bit paradoxical, perhaps, but no less true I think.

God truly does work in funny, incredible ways. I'm pretty excited about what we've got in store for us, I think. I've been meaning to start some sort of blessings or faith diary, some sort of record of God's faithfulness all these years, something to look to in times of need, but I've never gotten around to doing it. God's handprint is unmistakably all over my life, though, with or without such a record. It's something to hold on to.

I just watched a video by some dean of experimental philosophy, a criss-cross mish-mash of psychology and philosophy, on the nature of self, which was plenty interesting. So what these experimental philosophers do is apply scientific methods of psych to philosophical questions, with naturally fascinating results. And one of the notions put forward was that you are a very different person... any number of years down the road, say 10, so how is it possible to say that you're the same person, or what makes that person you? You have different physiques, beliefs, values, etc. Of course there's no such thing as a right answer, some empirical derivation of self, really only what people's perceptions of it are, but it's still worth looking into.

So I was just reading a couple of my older blog posts, from selected times in my life (because it is excruciating to read anything from 2007/2008 oh god) and sometimes it is hard to believe that I ever wrote what I did. And I have to wonder, who exactly was that? Sometimes it's just some phrases which are so incredibly dumb, things that at this point in time I feel incredibly embarrassed about (and this is the vast majority, unfortunately. or le sigh, as a younger me might have said instead. LOLOL.) Or I could even be impressed, incredulous, with some of the things in there. Could that have been me? I gleefully and amazedly asked myself.

Even considering.. wow actually it's 4 years ago now, so understandably there has been some form of paradigm shift (what a phrase!) in my life, my posts while I was still studying my ass off (I jest, but not really either) for A-levels. I clearly had no idea I was going to sign on etc, my future was still completely up in the air, and then exactly one year later I'd put my pen to paper and signed off close to 10 years of my life. There is a clear, fundamental change there. How similar can the Me of 2009 be with the Me of 2010? Wholly different belief systems (not completely of course, but some major change definitely had to occur), different groups of friends, different outlook in life perhaps, different relationship with my family, a complete sea change, pun absolutely intended.

So I guess it's alright to be embarrassed about my past selves, almost in the same way one is entitled to feel embarrassed about siblings or parents or whoever, someone with whom you have such a familiar relationship, and that definitely includes your past selves. Maybe it even means I don't have the right to delete the embarrassing posts, cause that's not me, not anymore, and that person as he was deserves to live on, even in the most painfully awkward of posts. How fancifully meta. I guess you don't get much more self-referential than this, hah.

One of the more interesting questions in that discussion was, if the person I'm going to be 10 years from now isn't me, then why should I save money, essentially robbing myself now to benefit this other guy 10 years later?! What an excellent discussion, a nice breakaway from days on end of gaming and stuff, and I actually felt myself asking questions, applying my mind. What a feeling.. Probably a little too abstract, too indeterminate of a field for me, but it sounds like a great field of study, if slightly confined to the world of academia I imagine. Who else but academics and philosophers (who are unlikely to earn a living outside of academia too) would truck around with existential questions such as these? Nothing but gratitude for such people though, even as I grow increasingly skeptical about the supposed altruistic aims of sponsored research etc. Even public goods/services are in thrall to consumer demand etc, it seems, but that's a completely separate rant altogether. I mean, pharmaceutical companies sponsoring biochem etc?!

Okay so my point is that I am understandably ashamed of my past selves, or at least some iterations of it, but also at times impressed by them. I couldn't write some of the stories that I did, can't imagine how I ever did, and can only hope that the converse is true too. Life is a funny thing, a year is a long time, and no one really ever knows how much they're going to change in any given amount of time, and yet the present feels so... big. Retrospect and hindsight almost always reveals our past issues to be laughably small, or at least much less important than we gave them credit for, but that knowledge doesn't really help you much in the face of current problems either. So I'm not saying to laugh off your problems in the present, cause undoubtedly the decisions you make today can have massive impacts on your life 20 years down the road either. I'm not sure what my point is anymore.. Except that I found it to be fascinating to think about. Oh well.

Just spent an hour or so reading this discussion about macroevolution and intelligent design and stuff. Somehow I'm reading everything except for my actual readings. Huh. Gotta take a nap now to rest my mind.