That physical self

For most of my life, I viewed the body as a vessel for the spirit or mind. This might seem a bit strange or contradictory as I am not one who thinks of the mind as separate from the physiological self (no ghosts in machines here). Yet, the “emergent properties” that constitute consciousness or intelligence or mind are, at least theoretically, separable from the electrochemical processes in our brains. So I guess there still is some sort of mind-body duality, in that there are some things we do for the brain versus for the rest of ourselves.

Thus, it was my belief that the physical body should only be afforded the minimal amount of maintenance to ensure that the other parts survived. Of course, being young and invincible helps that manner of thinking.

Some things have changed, surprising even myself. As the ailments of age slowly manifest themselves, it becomes ever apparent that it really does require no small effort to maintain the aspects of youth. I’m no spring chicken anymore, as it were. Being healthy is easy when it requires no work. Also, that slowing metabolism really sucks when trying to lose weight.

It now strikes me as being a bit intellectually smug and naive to think that mental improvement alone is a worthwhile personal achievement. Of course, it’s hard to blame people like myself, who have been comparatively gifted in intelligence and weaned on learning, to prize that which we possess. However, if it is through human efforts that value is derived, then the striving of physical beauty is certainly a huge human accomplishment. One might say that the latter pursuit is ephemeral, but one might also say that everyone dies in the end. In terms of personal goals, all are selfish.

It wasn’t until I started ballet that some of these ideas began to sort themselves out. I’ve slowly come to realize that beauty can be an end unto itself and that self-improvement physically is as important as mentally. (Hidden shout-out to Cardinal Ballet for their Urban Nights performances, as well as obligatorily to tp girl.) So what before seemed disdainful, now it is almost disrespectful to not appreciate the effort she puts into making herself beautiful. One friend commented that it’s okay to compliment a woman on her ass, as a nice ass is always a product of willful action, while, for example, breasts are for the most part endowed by genetics. While my gestaltic view on female beauty disagrees with his, and not to mention my hesitation to objectify women, I think he has an interesting point. All this is to say… something. I’m not sure what. My thoughts are pretty jumbled, and it is late.

Busy week next week

Finally started a reformat of my dear thinkpad, which is over 6 years old now and still running strong(ish). I figured that a 20-minute boot time is not really that acceptable. Hopefully the reinstall goes without too many problems.

Next week is going to be quite eventful. I’m not sure I’ve had this many things lined up in a week. It should be pretty exciting. Maybe I’ll also get some homework and stuff done as well.

  • Tues: screening of La Danse
  • Fri: Into the Woods
  • Sat: SF Ballet program 6
  • Sun: Taylor Swift concert

This is what happens when I can’t do my homework

Sellers who ship media mail and don’t put tracking numbers make me sad. And I can’t do my homework because I don’t have the textbooks.

“Please Mr. Postman” – seantime edition

Originally performed by The Marvelettes, 1961

(Stop)
Oh yes, wait a minute Mister Postman
(Wait)
Wait Mister Postman

Please Mister Postman, look and see
(Oh yeah)
If there’s a package in your bag for me
(Please, Please Mister Postman)
Why’s it takin’ such a long time
(Oh yeah)
For me to get that textbook of mine

There must be some word today
From my seller so far away
Please Mister Postman, look and see
If there’s a package, a package for me

I’ve been standin’ here waitin’ Mister Postman
So patiently
For just an email or a tracking number
Sayin’ it’s coming soon to me

(Mister Postman)
Mister Postman, look and see
(Oh yeah)
If there’s a package in your bag for me
(Please, Please Mister Postman)
Why’s it takin’ such a long time
(Oh yeah)
For me to get that textbook of mine

So many days you passed me by
See me waiting so anxiously
You wouldn’t stop a second to linger
And leave for me a textbook from Springer

(Mister Postman)
Please Mister Postman, look and see
(Oh yeah)
If there’s a package in your bag for me
(Please, Please Mister Postman)
Why’s it takin’ such a long time

(Why don’t you check it and see one more time for me, you gotta)
Wait a minute
Wait a minute
Wait a minute
Wait a minute
(Mister Postman)
Mister Postman, look and see

(C’mon deliver the textbook, so I can do my homework)
Mister Postman