It's 9am - do you know where your Legal Assistants are?

Nikki . . .Nikki . . . . I know that you are reading this from the office . . . .be careful! Guillermo is watching.

O Man of Two Visions . . .

One of the most difficult things for me has always been not being "seen". It’s happened in such different ways that, although the feelings it gave me were the same, it’s only recently that I’ve come to acknowledge what a long-term test it’s been. One of the worst feelings in the world is when you catch someone watching you as if they understand, yet seeing in their face the preconceived notions and judgments that are clouding their vision, and knowing that they’re only looking through you into some caricature that they’ve created.

Since I’ve realized what a running theme this has been in my life, I feel like it comes up all the time. Everything relates back to this theme of vision, to the idea that people so often just accept what they’re told instead of actually examining what’s right in front of them.

Not to be a complete dork, but it makes me think of “The Matrix”. (Um, if you haven’t seen all 3 movies then Beware of Spoilers). In the third movie Neo becomes completely blind, and finds that he’s still able to see. His post-blindess sight seems to revolve around energy, so that he sees the world in the sharp contrasts of emptiness and red-fiery light. All of a sudden his vision is of a reality that transcends the physical world. I remember this when I think about not being seen and about True Vision. What do I see when I look at someone? What do people see when they look at me? In some ways life is just one giant Magic Eye. There’s so much going with each person and with your surroundings that everything’s just a mess. It’s hard to tune the world out and really look at someone, without fear or expectation, and then watch them come into focus.

What helps me is the realization that not being seen is an external problem, one that everyone has to deal with. I’ve been a lot of things in my life: short, frizzy-haired, smart, vapid, thin, kind, mean, chaste, and foul-mouthed. And the way people view me has less to do with what I am at any moment and more to do with where they are. There will always be someone around you who is stuck on a particular set of insecurities that you – just by being your marvelous self – happen to exacerbate. And you know what? That’s their problem. Letting what other people think about you affect your self-perception is devastating.

For me this means two things at the end of the day. First, it means that I have to be resolute in my determination to not care what people think, which is so hard. Second, I feel that it’s part of my responsibility to try and see people, so that they can know how that feels, so that they can work hard to see someone else. And then maybe the week after that the “someone else” will see me, and instead of thinking “There’s that loud girl with the stupid laptop bag. She thinks she’s so great” maybe she’ll actually say hi, or maybe we’ll have a nice conversation when we happen to meet at a coffee shop. Or maybe, instead of giving each other the girl-to-girl disapproving glance, we’ll at least smile.

I would love to hear your thoughts on this – and for those of you who’ve been emailing me privately, feel free to do that anytime you don’t feel comfortable posting. I love you guys so much, and I appreciate all of the feedback and encouragement.

Accordions? Anyone?

R: I really wanted that accordion that they had at Toyjoy! It only cost twenty dollars.
M: An accordion?
R: Yeah! Just picture it: at Feast I could play “Blessed is the Spot” on the accordion while Matthew sings in Hindi. You know, to show our half-Indian, half-Scottish heritage.

(A few minutes pass)

R: I just realized something. Accordions aren’t Scottish – I was thinking of bagpipes!
M: Then what are accordions?
R: Oh, you know, like, NEEEEEHHHHRR!!!! *Makes arm movements as if to simulate playing an accordion.
M: *Pauses. I meant where are accordions from. I know what they are.
R: Oh.
M: But thank you for that lovely horn noise.
R: I guess maybe accordions are from Sweden. I always picture them being played by some guy in clogs.
M: Um, I think that’s Holland.
R: I suck at geography.

Comments Fixed

So now you can comment without being "registered", whatever the hell that means. Tonight I'll ask Matt to look at everything and we'll try to link to some pictures and other fun stuff.

Origins . . .

I imagine that the legal profession started out very different than what it currently is. I imagine that the law developed based on capital-letter words like “Justice” and “Equity”. And I imagine that somewhere in the current mess of a legal system we live under those roots still exist. Even so, it’s hard to buy into the roots of our system when you know that the men who thought “Equity” was paramount didn’t even want people (“people” meaning every single person not in Congress) to be able to vote for our president. How do you truly have faith that the core of our system is just when the men who designed it owned slaves, conquered nations, kept women from voting? How can I ever believe in the legal system?

This is one of the paradoxes I live with: I’ve always thought of being a lawyer, but I’ve always felt that the whole system is faulty. As a Baha’i I feel that the only real solutions come from personal evolution and societal awakening. But what do I do? Become a wandering sage? (Not enough hot showers when living on the streets.) Try to succeed in some artistic pursuit? (Very low chances of success.) When it all comes down to it I’m a lot more pragmatic than I like to admit. (Score one for my Father.) Rayhcul like justice. Raychul also like money and pretty clothes. Raychul will become attorney superhero and kick supervillian ass while wearing fabulous shoes. Everybody happy.

Okay, now everyone who thinks it isn’t going to be so easy raise you hands! (You should ALL have your hands raised). Maintaining my identity through my first year of law school and not getting sucked into the world of what you’re “supposed to do” has been intense. A turning point came when I’d been up late reading about negligence and duty for my Torts class. I got ready for bed and opened the Baha’i writings to the following passage:

“O Essence of Negligence! Myriads of mystic tongues find utterance in one
speech, and myriads of hidden mysteries are revealed in a single melody; yet,
alas, there is no ear to hear, not heart to understand”.

What that means to me in a nutshell is that true negligence is failing to perceive Truth when it’s raining down on us. I don’t know why that affected me so. All of a sudden things just came into focus – all these terms and words and makeshift ideals are ephemeral. We just use them to get to what’s Real. Torts like battery and assault were created because we should be treating each other with kindness and being selfless. They are the words, but they only exist to serve the greater good.

There’s a difference between knowing the words and knowing the Reason. I knew the words when I came to law school – I knew that I wanted to help people, to serve my community. But the Reason is beginning to get clearer. The Reason is not equity, or money, or safety, or any of the other material constructs we have to operate under. The Reason is the inevitable unification of the human family, a spiritual vision that we strive for with inadequately material means. This is the true paradox of law, and of life: being in the system, but not of it.

Nikki will be so proud!

*Ahem. Testing . . . .one . . . well, hello out there you crazy internet! I've been meaning to get in touch with you for some time but so far have been prevented from doing so by:

1. Laziness

2. Law school

3. General ineptitude

These three seem to bar a lor of things I've thought of doing. But no more! I don't know if people will find their way here or if I'll let my friends know about it, but my goal is to create a blog that is a raw, honest look at my life: at being a Baha'i youth, at law school, at Baha'i marriage, at my family's process of healing, and at all the other nonsensical silliness that dominates my life.

Why don't you take off your shoes and stay awhile?