Look around you and describe what you see. Since many of us are stuck in our homes right now (re: pandemic), you are likely to respond: "Nothing exciting. Walls, ceiling, table, computer, curtains... Everyday boring stuff." Now my next question would be: How do you understand what these things are?
"Ok, a case of lockdown madness," you may think to yourself. If you are very patient (or a friend of mine who wants to indulge me), you will say something like: "Well, it's kind of obvious. Walls are walls, and a ceiling is a ceiling. So, that's why I understand." We live in the world of objects that mean something to us. Not because they are special, but just because we know what they are. So it seems kind of stupid and a waste of time to wonder why table is a table. But according to semiotics, nothing should be obvious. Semiotics is a science that studies meanings: what they are, where they come from, how they influence us. What do you mean? This is a question we hear and use a lot. We talk about something being meaningless in a negative sense. Yet we seldom wonder why we are so preoccupied by meanings and what those are supposed to be. Our language is of little help, perhaps because we are not used to questioning the obvious. So when we start asking ourselves what we mean by questioning meanings, the lack of appropriate terms that would help our brain to dig into this mess becomes obvious. Meanings are... ideas, associations, interpretations, definitions, values. All that stuff that exists in our heads yet gets expressed through objects we produce and surround ourselves with. It is the stuff that cultures are made of. And it's not just physical objects, as a matter of fact. It would be more correct to say that meanings are attached to any aspect of our reality. After all, we also know that the sky is the sky, money is money, and teachers are teachers. Same as you can easily describe your room, you will also be able to say who you are: your gender, race, sexuality, age, profession, physical characteristics, place of origin, political affiliation, religious beliefs and so on. But what do all of these things really mean to you, and what do you think they mean to others? Again, nothing obvious here. Of equal importance is to ask ourselves why other people mean what we think they mean to us, according all these characteristics I mentioned. I won't break a new ground by saying that questioning the ideas we attach to ourselves and others have been helpful for understanding intergroup conflicts. Finally, you may also think it is obvious how you understand your own feelings and sensations: pain and pleasure, love and hate. If you are stressed, this means something is stressful, which is not fun, and you need to figure out what's wrong. Yet, according to mindfulness meditation practitioners, saying that "stress is stress" is not helpful. Stress is actually experienced as sensations in our body that are very difficult to describe with words (tension? tingling? burning? pressure?) that we don't even pay attention to as soon as we put a simple label on them. And because being stressed is not considered to be something good, we start analyzing what's wrong or feeling bad about being stressed. Both are really unhelpful strategies, as it would be way better to just pause and experience these hard-to-describe sensations without not giving them any names. I don't expect to have been able to explain these extremely complicated ideas in just a few paragraphs. Also, it would be wrong to say that this is something only semiotics is concerned with. Symbolic interactionism and the social construction of reality theory explore similar puzzling issues, just from slightly different angles. And these are just some examples of scholarly frameworks that can help us understand this. To wrap this post up, I just want to say that, in my opinion, wondering why different aspects of our reality mean certain things to us can be really exciting and useful. The more obvious an association or interpretation is, the more it should be analyzed. If we notice how meanings that appear absolute and absolutely commonsensical are actually not, this may help us lead more fulfilling and peaceful lives. If you are wondering what I mean, stay tuned for more posts on this topic!
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Right now, most of my friends' minds are understandably busy thinking about politics, economy, coronavirus and other great legacy of 2020. I have thought about all of those plenty, and worried my share. So I hope you will forgive me for offering you not my take on the latest events but a glimpse into my creative past.
Sometime between 2001 and 2007, I wrote poems (in Russian). I did not keep dates or the order of appearance, but I saved texts that I liked most. Years passed without me rereading them, although sometimes a line or a verse would randomly pop up in my head. Recently, I decided to take a look at what I had created back then, and I realized that I still like it. Since this website is meant to represent me holistically and not just professionally, I have added a special page for some side (or unfinished) projects. The problem is, of course, that my current audience is mostly English-speaking, while the poems of the past are in the language of my past. So the plan is to gradually translate them, keeping their meaning but disregarding rhythms and rhymes. Let's see whether I will actually follow through... In case you wonder what's the point of a translation that honors the contents but not the form, I want to say: I know it's not ideal. But if you can see, with your mind's eye, images that my poems are trying to paint with words, I will be content. Wanderer So one day, following sleepy roads Covered with autumn leaves, Without any hope of ever being forgiven, I came back to my old city.* There, with street lights gleaming through their eyelids, Avenues were arching their backs. The city was hiding something behind the closed doors. Bridges were swaying lightly in the emptiness... I have seen this city so often in my dreams... Perhaps this city is just a dream? I will wrap my coat tighter around me, and pop my collar, And step onto the unsteady sky. *In this poem, the narrator is male. This is evident only in Russian, where past tense verbs are gendered. And here is the original in Russian: Странник И однажды по дорогам сонным, Устланным осеннею листвой, Не надеясь больше быть прощенным, Я вернулся в старый город свой. Там, блестя сквозь веки фонарями, Выгибали улицы хребты. Город что-то прятал за дверями. Чуть качались в пустоте мосты... Мне так часто снился этот город... Может, этот город – только сон? Запахнусь, и подниму свой ворот, И ступлю на зыбкий небосклон. I read somewhere that titles with numbers attract more readers. So here we go, let's put this claim to the test!
1. Isolation is as difficult for introverts as it is for extroverts, although they experience it differently. When quarantines and lockdowns started rolling in, there was a running joke about a certain category of people who would not care much about new requirements. If you spend a lot of time at home anyway - reading, working, staring at the screen - you will probably be the least psychologically affected, they said. But let me tell you: there are only a few people who want to become real hermits by cutting themselves off the rest of society. If you define an introvert as somebody who enjoys spending time on their own, then I will be the best example. But don't make a mistake: introverts don't want to avoid people. I may be the quiet one around the table during a friends' gathering, and sometimes in the middle of a conversation I start thinking longingly about going back to my projects in my room. This does not mean, though, that I don't need these gatherings, or that to make me happy you need to lock me in my room with my computer for a while. In fact, this does not make me happy at all. I have learned it the hard way... 2. "A work is never completed but merely abandoned." Apparently, this beautiful idea was first formulated by Paul Valéry in 1933. I heard it this fall from my friend Susan Messer, a great writer whose novel Grand River and Joy I had read last year. As somebody generally inclined to be a perfectionist, I could have used this insight before. In the last few months of 2020 - when I was finishing my own book - it felt truer than ever. Darn, it was so hard to let the book go! To accept that the clumsy conglomerates of words that I put together trying to create a coherent argument will never match the shimmering constantly rearranging complexity of thoughts in my head. Honestly, I hate it but I guess that's totally normal. 3. I want to help people move from acknowledgement of social problems to collaboration across divides through empathy. I have been obsessed with the idea of empathy for a while. In my book I describe it as one of my biggest biases. My belief is that we should look for explanations of our opponents' actions that go beyond "They are just mean and stupid." Society is far from perfect. Still, if we want to deal with its problems, pointing fingers and blaming each other is not the solution. That's what I think, anyway. In the last couple of months, I realized that this is what I should build my career around. This stuff is very important for me. Our jobs should be something we deeply care about, right? I don't know yet what I am going to do in 2021 or where, but my career path is going to change according to my guiding vision. Stay tuned for news about this transition. And if you have any suggestions, please let me know. 3.5. Washing hands is important. This qualifies as only a half of an insight. At the same time, I don't think I fully realized how a person can protect herself from some fairly nasty diseases with the help of soft soapy bubbles and warm water. You live and you learn. But where is my hand lotion?.. |
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I often use this blog to share new or updated entries of my hypertext projects. If you see several versions of the same entry published over time, the latest version is the most updated one.
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