Jan 19, 2013 | Thinking Better
Ever wondered if the colors you were seeing were the same colors everybody else saw?
My favorite color is green. It has always been green since I was in my mother’s womb—I am convinced of it. Green is the color of life, the essence of any beautiful scenery. In fact, when I was young, I liked green so much that I could not understand why anyone’s favorite color was anything other than green. How could they like blue or yellow as much as green? These colors were just not on equal grounds.
My sister’s favorite color used to be red, and I just could not reconcile it in my mind why she would like red more than green. So to resolve this conundrum in my mind, I had this thought: What if what she was calling red was actually green? What if the color that we were all calling our favorite was actually the same color (i.e., my green), but we were just calling it by different names?
But how would I prove this thought? I could only experience the colors that I saw and I couldn’t jump into another person’s body to see what they saw. Even if I had an eye transplant, that organ would be in a new body, and who knew how that organ would function in a new environment? How could I be sure that my green was the same as my sister’s green? I had been taught to call green “green”, but how did my parents know what I saw?
I was old enough to know that if I pursued that thought further I could just go crazy. So I stopped and accepted, by faith, that what everyone called green was in fact the same color, and left it at that.
But was that not a freaky thought?
One of my personal concerns in life is the danger of self-deception. The catch is that I wouldn’t realize it if I were being deceived—it wouldn’t be called deception otherwise. I care about whether something is true or not. I care whether or not what I see is equal to my perception. I care whether or not my understanding about anything or any person is correct. I ask myself this question a lot: Am I blind? Am I seeing reality as it really is? Or is what I call reality (i.e., the reality of any situation) is some illusion I conjectured in my mind?
I don’t know how other people handle this, but for me, multiplicity of perspective from other people is crucial is gauging any situation. Most importantly though, is my relationship with God. One of my continuing prayers is for God to help me see clearly and to show where I am in the wrong. I don’t think the question of reality can be answered without touching the issue of faith, just like we can never be sure of colors without putting some faith in a collective claim or reality. You can measure wavelengths, but you still can’t see what another person sees.
If there’s anything close to a conclusion I’ve made regarding this issue, it would be this: Your chance of being self-deceived is inversely proportional to your openness to be wrong (and be shown that you are wrong).
Mar 21, 2012 | Reading Life, Thinking Better
Or, The Joy of Meeting Fascinating People
Recently, I had the awesome privilege of meeting a brilliant educator from Indonesia, who, for me, was the best question-answerer I’ve ever met. He sat on a panel discussion, and the way he answered questions was just so… illuminating… that it got me asking, what was it about the way he responded that made him shine brighter than the other panelists? Because whatever it was, I want to learn it.
There’s no doubt that the panelists who did better than the others gave much more than good answers. They spoke with their hearts and with passion; they seemed like they believed every word they said. This, which in and of itself was very crucial, was a given. Yet there seemed to be more than just being passionate.
I’m sure that there is no simplistic answer to this question, but after a few days of reflection, I think I have a few guesses. It seemed to me there were three things that made certain answers very impactful for me:
1. Illuminate the context of the question.
The first thing he did before answering the question was to give the background and context of the question. Instead of giving the right answer directly, he would guide you to think correctly about that question you just asked. Every question comes with certain presumptions, so before he answered them, he made sure everyone was on the same page, not by saying “are we on the same page?” explicitly, but by tactfully giving more information on the context of the problem. Thus, before you get your answers, you are already more knowledgeable than before.
2. Answer the question right on.
It may seem obvious, but I was surprised at how few actually do this straightforward thing when someone asked a question: answer it. Most of the times, either we skirt around issues, or give canned answers. It is a hard thing to answer questions sincerely, and to hit it on the spot. Hence, we often ask, “Did I answer your question?” Not once did he do this.
3. Give ‘em some more.
Then, after all of that was done, he gave extra bits of information or hints at what you should think about next. The questioner then was left with utter satisfaction, plus some food for thought.
Seriously, I was marveled. I got the chance to speak with him one on one too, and when I asked him about what steps should I do if I was planning to move back to Indonesia, he actually answered my questions with specifics and practical advice. NOBODY has ever done that before.
Sometimes in a young person’s life, or in anyone’s life for that matter, he/she just needs answers. Plain answers, without rhetoric or telling me I have to do more research, that would not only make me less lost, but would give me absolute clarity.
Add to this mastery of answering questions kindness, generosity, courtesy, and approachability, what you have is true charisma and influence. I’m meeting more and more people of this kind these days, and really, the world is a better place because of them. I would love to be this kind of person one day. But in the mean time, I’ll just enjoy marveling over these fascinating people.
Feb 2, 2012 | Thinking Better
How sea animals navigate through the wide expanse of the ocean is an awesome mystery. In the blue vastness of the deep, they find invisible pathways to food and safe habitats.
One of the fascinating stories from the Blue Planet BBC documentary series
is one on Ridley sea turtles. The segment starts with a scene of the changing phases of the moon, whose both daily and monthly cycles influence the dynamics of the sea. For Ridley sea turtles, the moon serves as some kind of natural clock that is synchronized with their biological cycles.
Ridley sea turtles, now included in the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) endangered species list, practice a mass nesting method, also called an arribada. On a few nights each year, about a quarter of the world’s population of Ridley sea turtles come to a specific beach in the pacific coast of Costa Rica to lay their eggs. Brought in by the high tides, up to 400,000 female sea turtles would come within a few nights, laying 40 million eggs.
These are not random nights. They would come when the moon is either in its first or last quarter, between the new and full moon (or between full and new moon), and there’s a very good reason why. When the moon is neither full nor new, the tides are the weakest, and thus the water will not wash away the sand that covers the freshly laid eggs, subjecting them to vultures that come at dawn, trying to feed on washed off eggs. It’s a risk mitigation plan.
These sea turtles, while they’re not laying eggs, travel through the ocean during the year to search for food hundreds of miles away from this beach. But each year, in accordance with sea turtles’ tradition, they come back in packs and lay their eggs again, starting a new generation of sea turtles.
Watching them, my mind just kept asking the questions, Who tells them to go to Costa Rica? Who teaches them to go when the moon is not the strongest? As a believer, there is only One Master who can get the credit of coordinating this life system. But even knowing that answer doesn’t make this story any less baffling.
Knowest thou the time when the wild goats of the rock bring forth? or canst thou mark when the hinds do calve? Canst thou number the months that they fulfil? or knowest thou the time when they bring forth? Job 39:1-2
