Archive for the ‘inspiration’ Category

I’m a junkie

2011/07/06

I’ve discovered a drug. A wonderful, happy-making, pain-soothing drug. And I’m hooked.

This morning I got up and, before anyone else was awake, slipped out of the house to get myself a hit. When I came back, Deena and Kaia were up. Deena could see on my face that I’d been out getting high. She knew the look. She’s the one that got me hooked in the first place.

She was proud of me.

I was proud too.

You see, I’ve taken up running. And when you run, along with the sweat, the encroaching feeling of heaviness, the mind-fogging weariness that creeps over you, there is a payoff.

The body gives you the gift of endorphins.

Let me tell you, it’s awesome.

It’s powerful.

It’s more than a little bit habit-forming.

Just over a month after I went for my first run with Deena, I find myself eager to go out for more. Even though we’re in the middle of a hot, humid Boston summer. (Hence the early morning run, when the temperature is moderately bearable.) Even though I’m not getting quite enough sleep (two young kids and all). Even though I have all the excuses I’ve always had not to spend time on exercise.

I am almost up to five kilometres in one go – long enough to enter a proper run. My goal by the end of the summer is 10k, and at the current rate I’ll get there no problem.

Now, I hear you thinking that maybe it’s not this endogenous drug cocktail my body is dosing me with. Maybe I’m simply high on life. Maybe I’m elated at the sense of personal accomplishment.

To which I say yes, of course. I am an animal, and my subjective experiences are built from complex interactions of hormones, neurotransmitters, synaptic potentials, and other things that I (a non-biologist) don’t really understand. Stupendous!

The subjective experience is captivating, compelling, even addictive. By extension, the biological processes supporting it are pretty nifty too. (Anyone know of a good popular-level book on the science and physiology of running? Or of exercise more generally?)

And now, I’m beginning to wonder if running endorphins are some sort of gateway drug. I’ve been getting this odd urge to try out weight training too. I’m starting with push-ups, but who knows where this spiralling behaviour will lead?

(By the way, can anyone suggest any late-summer or autumn 5k or 10k runs in the Boston area that I could set my sights on?)

Selfish Gene

2011/04/05

I just finished reading The Selfish Gene, the first of Richard Dawkins’ many books popularizing the fascinating byways and unexpected consequences of evolutionary theory.

The Selfish Gene was first published the year before I was born. I was fortunate to be reading the 30th anniversary edition, which includes not only the original text, but also extensive notes by the author on more recent developments, as well as two all-new chapters (one of which seems to be a teaser for The Extended Phenotype – now on my reading list). For my money, the original text would have been worth it alone. I know that it’s not cutting-edge any more, but to a layman like me it’s all relatively new (even having read several of Dawkins’ other books – he’s not one to beat the same facts to death book after book).

So here I am, urging you to read it if you haven’t. It’s not stale or unreadable – it’s Dawkins through and through. And if you have read the original version, it still might be worth checking out the footnotes of this edition – they are a beautiful illustration of scientific eagerness to learn and willingness to admit mistakes.

I am not really into book reports, so I’m not going to draw this out too much. (I will say that the worst part of the book for me – through no fault of Dawkins – was the discussion of parasites. I read it while trying to get over a rather nasty bug: not wise. In retrospect, now that my gut is my own again, it is a fascinating and well-written discussion.)

I did want to point out, rather gleefully, a quote near the end. (Don’t worry – it’s not a spoiler.)

Indeed I suspect that the essential, defining characteristic of an individual organism is that it is a unit that begins and ends with a single-celled bottleneck. (p 264)

Why am I delighted? Because it (and the surrounding text backing up this claim) expands on a fact that I have contemplated with wonder in the past – for example, here on this blog not long before my son was born.

Think about it. Between any parent and child on a family tree, there was a time when the line of descent was reduced to a single cell – one fertilized egg. We have each, with the help of billions of years of evolution, built ourselves from such humble beginnings. We each, if we are to leave children ourselves, must humbly do so through a single cell yet again.

How ennobling science is, to give us such narratives from which to understand our place in the universe!

While you wait …

2010/09/05

My last job ended recently, and after a long search I have found another one.  As this is academia, this one will also be temporary – I am slowly working my way through post-docs until I can achieve that great dream, the Permanent Position (also known as tenure-track).

But I’m not complaining.  This new post will let me work on a very interesting project.  And, while it will take me and my family away from Edinburgh, a fabulous city with wonderful people, it will be taking us to Boston.  Boston is also, reputedly, a fabulous city.  And it also houses many amazing folks.

One of my soon-to-be-fellow-Bostonians, Doug Muder, recently posted some thoughts on humanist spirituality that I thought you might enjoy.  That’s from his blog “Free and Responsible Search”, where he explores the philosophy and theology of Unitarian Universalism.

In this post, he attempts to answer the question “Does spirituality mean anything?” from a humanist standpoint.

I hope to share more thoughts with you after the move, once we are settled in Boston.

Common Sense Atheism

2010/02/16

I want to recommend to you all a wonderful blog I’ve recently encountered.

Common Sense Atheism is written by Luke, a philosopher and former Christian.  I find his posts thoughtful and challenging, and balanced in a way that I aspire to but have yet to achieve.

One thing that sets his blog apart is that several of his posts are updated regularly – indexes of various types.  There’s the list of atheism debates – currently listing over 500 debates, with links to (where available) online audio, transcripts, or other materials.  There’s an Atheism FAQ.  And a list of episodes of his own podcast, Conversations from the Pale Blue Dot.

There’s more too, of course.  He is quick to criticize bad arguments made by atheists – for example, the “But who made God?” rejoinder to the cosmological argument.  He even has an ongoing elucidation of one place where Dawkins gets it very wrong.  He has a post clarifying the different ways to be an atheist.

From what I’ve seen, he is much better than most of us at setting aside his tribal monkey instincts and seeing the other side of an issue.  He isn’t convinced by religious arguments, but he’s not afraid to acknowledge that they aren’t all invalid.

Anyway, check him out and let me know what you think.

Smile

2010/01/26

I love the way some people employ their creativity.  Enjoy!

This video comes via Erich Vieth from Dangerous Intersection.

Cosmic birthday: HE 1523-0901

2010/01/14

I would like to make a confession.  I am beginning to feel some of the symptoms of age.  Not old age, so much.  Just age.  Exercise is becoming something I need to consciously undertake, no longer something that simply happens among all the stuff I do in the week.  Lifting my daughter is no longer as effortless as it was a year ago.  (Okay, so that’s more a sign of her age than mine.)  Sleep is becoming a welcome goal at the end of the day, instead of an unwelcome necessity getting in the way of things I’d rather be doing.

But I have the perfect way to avoid falling into worry about my aging:  I think about HE 1523-0901. Here’s a picture of her with a few of her sisters:

Let's call her "Nan"

Yes, HE 1523-0901 is a star.  But not just any star.  She is the oldest observed object in the Milky Way.  Astronomers have estimated her age at 13.2 billion years (though, being a lady, she’s not acknowledging the estimate).  On the Cosmic Calendar, that’s today, the 14th of January.  Happy birthday, HE 1523-0901!

Keep in mind, when considering her age (born only 500 million years after the Big Bang), that the Milky Way itself is not thought to have come together in the form we now know until (at the earliest) 10.1 billion years ago – by which time HE 1523-0901 was already over three billion years old.

She is a slim star, weighing in at (forgive me, my lady) about 0.8 times the mass of our own sun.  She is a red giant, and is found about 7500 light years away in the direction of Libra.  She is apparently difficult to find from as far north as I am, so I will have to content myself with images like the above one, taken by the professional paparazzi to the stars.

I invite you to look up more about this lovely Grand Dame of our galactic family.  It certainly helps me to put my aging worries in perspective.

Finally, a note to any astronomers reading this:  she needs a better name!  I vote we call her “Nan”, after my granny.  Before you think that this is a rather backhanded way to honour my maternal forbear, let me explain.  My granny is now … well, somewhat less than 13.2 billion years old, but old enough to have three great-grandchildren.  She can still out-walk folks my age when she goes hiking around the Essex countryside.  So, just as Granny doesn’t seem to let the years touch her, I propose we honour our long-lasting stellar neighbour.  May she live another 13.2 billion years!

Photo credit:

Photo of HE 1523-0901 (Nan) from the gallery of Anthony Ayiomamitis.  (Copyrighted but assuming fair use.  Go check out his collection of amazing and educational astronomical photos!)

Redundancy note:

I’ve mentioned HE 1523-0901 before, but that’s the beauty of birthdays:  you can celebrate them anew each year.

Miscellaneous

2009/11/29

Several things have come through my blog reader that I want to comment on, but none require a post of their own. So here you are:

Celebrating Darwin. Still? Again? It doesn’t really matter. Here’s a well-produced video giving the history of life in brief, narrated by David Attenborough. Delightful to watch.

(Thanks to Mike, the Not Quite So Friendly Humanist, for sharing this video.)

Solar System on one page. Also along the lines of enjoying the natural world. Or, in this case, worlds: a webpage where you can see all the planets (plus Pluto). They are to scale for size, but also for mean distance from the Sun. Try it out.

If you’re having difficulty finding the planets in all the black, here’s a little trick: after the “/” at the end of the URL, add “#mars”, or “#neptune”, and it’ll zoom to that planet. But that does kind of defeat the purpose: you’re supposed to become aware of the vast, vast spaces between the planets.

(Thanks to Phil, the Bad Astronomer, for the link.)

Abolish the Canadian monarch? Here’s Canadian humanist and activist Justin Trottier with his take on the fact that the nominal Canadian head of state is not Canadian, and is also the head of one particular religious sect. I tend to agree with him – there is no good reason to retain the monarchy, though perhaps not yet sufficient reason against it to go to the trouble of writing them out of our laws.

Beautiful impermanence. I close this grab-bag with a delightful “sermon” from Daylight Atheism, in which we are encouraged to reflect upon impermanence as autumn surrounds us*. He contrasts the humanist acceptance of our impermanence with the inborn yearning we all have – reflected so frequently in religious beliefs – to deny our own deaths. While I’m not generally interested in contrasting humanism with religious beliefs, I think the contrast here is poignant. Particularly as the humanist position, in following the evidence of the world around us, draws us away from our primitive desires for immortality. It encourages us, in a real sense, to grow up.

Okay, this one could have used its own post. For now, I refer you to this pair of posts (in that order) by Dale McGowan, about discussing mortality with his kids. And this more recent one, about the problem of awesome people being mortal too.

[Edit to add link to the Daylight Atheism post, which I unaccountably forgot to do at first.]

—–

* Excluding Canada and other northern regions, where winter has already firmly displaced fall, and the whole southern hemisphere, being on the other side of the seasonal see-saw.

Hero

2009/11/26

I would like to introduce you to a hero of mine. His name is Robert Lang.

Robert Lang folds paper. He folds paper into birds. He folds paper into insects. He folds paper into insanely complex and improbably forms.

And that is enough to earn him my admiration (as an amateur folder myself).

But what really rockets him into the ranks of hero is his polymath tendencies. What he has done with his origami outside the traditional world of paper folding.

He has developed mathematical models of origami. His scientific approach has advanced the art to the point that most of the new forms created today would have been impossible half a century ago. But more than that, he has consulted on scientific and engineering projects, bringing the art of folding into space telescopes, car safety, and other areas.

He has given a TED talk; he has been featured in National Geographic.

Robert Lang inspires me. Not only is he an excellent origami artist – something I aspire to in a vague and occasional way. He has also managed to combine various interests of his into a unified and revolutionary whole – something I yearn for in an definite, persistent way.

As someone with a variety of disparate interests (experimental phonetics, computer programming, writing, parenting, humanist spirituality), I would love to bring some of them together, so that I am not always forced to choose to spend time on one at the expense of others.

So much for why I admire Robert Lang. But what does it mean for someone to be a hero?

Robert Lang has at least two attributes that make him a hero for me: he does something I would like to be able to do myself, and he inspires me to actually try to achieve it.

Unicorn familyIt’s not necessarily origami – as I said, origami is an interest of mine, but not necessarily a passion. (Though I do have Lang’s book, Origami Design Secrets, from which I hope to learn how to design my own origami figures.) I don’t mean to emulate him completely. But he inspires me to try my own brand of originality, my own synthesis of disparate interests. For the moment, it’s an attempt to bring my programming interest into my academic phonetic research. I also have a project on the go bringing programming and humanist spirituality together (stay tuned).

Related to this, being my hero does not mean Lang seems infallible, or even super-human, to me. Of course he is just another person. But that’s part of the inspiration: there is no great divide between the kind of person I am and the kind of person he is. I can do amazing things, just like he does.

I suppose that I might more accurately call Lang a role-model. But that has a slightly antiseptic ring to me. A role model sounds like someone your parents expose you to in an attempt to influence you.

A hero – that’s someone you choose for yourself.

Photo credits:

Portrait of Lang with life-sized origami people from Lang’s website.

Image of origami unicorns by Timothy Mills. Models folded by me, from a design in Origami Step by Step, by Robert Hardin, who credits it to Patricia Crawford.

Meditation on the origin of life

2009/09/27

In the Cosmic Calendar, the Origin of Life falls somewhere around now.* About three and a half billion years ago, the great abundance of life on Earth began, probably with a single replicating molecule – a precursor to DNA. Every living organism today, from the tiniest bacterium to the largest whale, descends in an unbroken line from that tiny bundle of atoms.

Today, I invite you to consider this:

We still reproduce as single-celled organisms.

Every act of human reproduction involves one cell from each parent. A single cell. For all our wondrous complexity, our bountiful organs and tissues, our towering intellects and tender thoughts … for all that, we still have to humble ourselves to the level of our distant, millions-of-generations-past ancestors in order to participate in that most ancient, most definitive act of life: reproduction.**

Footnotes:

* In fact, the details of this event, including its exact date, are difficult to pin down. The Wikipedia article on abiogenesis gives possible dates ranging from 4.2 billion years ago (bya) to 2.4 bya – that is, 11 September to 29 October. However, today falls somewhere in the middle of the range, just over 3.5 bya. The fact that 28 September is also my daughter’s birthday makes me even more prone to contemplating life’s origins today.

** Not all multi-cellular organisms are so constrained. Many plants do a significant part of their reproduction by sending out shoots or otherwise cloning themselves, rather than going through the whole one-cell business. Who’s superior now, eh?

Five influential female authors

2009/09/10

Here’s an internet/blogging meme coming via Ken at C. Orthodoxy. It asks us, as the post title says, to name five female authors that have been influential to us.

As the father of a precocious almost-two-year-old girl, I make sure to celebrate female excellence as much as possible in order to counterbalance the undeniable tendency, here and now, for there to be more men than women in prominent positions – politically, socially, economically, and culturally.

So here goes: five awesome writers who happen to be women.*

Ursula K. Le Guin. Every book of hers that I’ve read has moved, delighted, and surprised me. She wrote The Dispossessed, the best argument for an egalitarian, property-free, anarchist society that I’ve come across (it’s a novel). She wrote the Earthsea books, easily equal to Lord of the Rings or the Harry Potter series (both of which I love) for epic awesomeness and tender humanness. She wrote an excellent version of Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching. (Here’s one of the verses from it, which I quoted from here.) There are more, but I think I’ll let you discover them for yourself. Le Guin’s influence has been to show me that bold ideas don’t preclude humble values like compassion and human vulnerability. Most of the science fiction I read growing up (and there was a lot – I was that kind of kid) was written by men from a particular era. At the risk of sounding sexist, it shows. Action, adventure, sex, but not much quiet humanity. Le Guin taught me that, even in genres like science fiction and fantasy, even when your characters include hermaphroditic psychics living on a planet of snow and ice or powerful wizards who can command the elements with arcane words, there is space for a fully human narrative. (There are male authors who I would rank close to her in this regard, but none quite as good at it, and anyway this post isn’t about them.)

Gloria Borden and Katherine Harris. I’m listing these two together, because they are co-authors (along with Lawrence Raphael) of the Speech Science Primer**, my first textbook in phonetics – the physical science of speech. I am now at the end of a PhD in phonetics, with a dissertation approved and bound (nice thick tome) that adds a little to the sum of human knowledge. Although the main credit for my education goes to all the in-person teachers I’ve had (several of whom were women), I have to acknowledge that this well-presented and understandable textbook gave me a level of understanding and confidence in the field that helped cement my choice, leading me into an exciting field of scientific discovery.

Marjorie Tew. We humanists pride ourselves on following the evidence. We make a big deal of the fact that modern medicine is generally evidence-based (as opposed to most types of alternative “medicine”, which are either evidence-free or based on very fallible types of evidence, such as anecdote). Tew, a statistician, followed a line of evidence in a surprising direction, and relates the story and the evidence in her book Safer Childbirth? (the question mark is in the title). In it, she presents a compelling empirical case that, in modern industrialised nations, giving birth in a hospital is not safer than giving birth at home. (For anyone interested, I related some key details of her arguments a couple of years ago in this thread at the Bad Science forums.) Her book was a large part of what persuaded Deena and me to plan a homebirth with Kaia. We are planning the same for baby #2 (due in a few short weeks). Again, there were other influences, but Tew’s approach and her arguments were an important factor in our decision.

Julia Sweeney (and here). Okay, so this may be stretching the definition of “author” a bit. I know Julie Sweeney through the audio version of two of her monologues: In the Family Way, and Letting Go of God. They are basically books, just in a different medium. Sort of. Anyway, it’s my blog, so I can choose whoever I want. Julia Sweeney’s main influence on me is through the religious monologue, Letting Go of God. In it, she recounts her journey from being a contented Catholic, through reading the Bible, encountering doubt, wrestling with it, trying out different ideas, and eventually coming out a contented atheist. It’s a fun listen. It’s also valuable because whenever she elicits laughs, they are primarily directed at her – or at ideas she entertained, or thoughts she had. Not at other people, not in a sneering “I’m better than you” way.

It is, I think, the gentlest way I have ever encountered for someone to outline why she doesn’t believe in God. Let someone laugh with you, at you, and you cease to be a threatening figure, an enemy. You become simply human, and it’s much easier to try to sympathise with someone who’s simply human than someone who is speaking as a scientist, or as a philosopher (or, perhaps, as a blogger). Goodness knows I have nothing like Julia Sweeney’s talent for humour, but whenever I think about engaging a religious believer in discussion about topics we differ on, I think of Julia Sweeney and her approach. I think she has helped me become a more friendly humanist.

So there you have it. Five women whose writing (or similar creative output) has influenced me. One author of fiction, three scientists, and a performer/autobiographer.

The five women I’ve talked about above have influenced me, but their influence pales next to that of the women I know and have known in person – family, friends, colleagues, teachers.

Also, though I celebrate these women and their influence on me, I do it because of what they have done, not just because they are women. I hope that, as she grows up, Kaia will find inspiration and perhaps role-models in women like these, but also in men who write influential, inspiring, interesting, or great things. Or even humble things that nevertheless make our world better.

* I couldn’t find photos for all five, so I’ve decided to leave this post image-free. You can see some of them by following the links provided.

** I’m linking to Amazon’s listing of the 3rd edition of the Speech Science Primer, which is the one I used. There are more recent editions that you should look at if you are considering buying the book: speech science is a dynamic field, and some of what they had to say in 1994 is out of date now.


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