Social "norms" stink usually I find. Always mostly.

That doesn't even make sense.

The other day I was talking to two wonderful people.  One a fantastic friend since school began in September, and one other from about five minutes before the conversation (who also was fantastic).  Questions ensued about relationships.  You're mind probably went straight to dating, and with reason as it was a highly touched subject, but we talked more in terms of relationships of any specimen: friend, family, dating, work, etc.

I eluded to a fence metaphor.  And looking at it, it is true.  We have a fence.  Information about ourselves lies outside the fence for people to pick-up and examine, possibly even hold on to and take with them.  There is also the information that lies within the fence.  This is guarded, prized only for those lucky souls (in my case brave souls is a more appropriate term) who get to see the person at their raw-est self.

I think I might have been wrong.

Since that conversation, I have thought about this and where my fence is, what information is outside the fence, what information is inside the fence, how high the fence is, what it is made of, does it have barbed-wire, does the gate swing one way or two, and on what side is the grass greener, the outside or inside?

Maybe I think too much?

Could it be that the fence is another "social norm"?  Could it be that we imagine our fence only to secure ourselves for ourselves? Did that even make sense?  Or is the fence real?  If so, why do we need one?  What I mean to ask by all this is, and this is the question that I have on my mind:

Is the fence a "social norm" and if so, what would happen if I chose not to have a fence?  What would happen if none of us had a fence?

p.s.  maybe someday i'll figure out how to make this more aesthetically pleasing.
p.p.s.  probably not.

First, props to real actors.  We blocked for two hours and I'm practically falling asleep writing this from being so drained.  

Second, I like this. The scene we worked is really cool.  And Jesse James is (or was) a really incredible figure in history.  A real commanding figure in rooms, who read body language and knew everything that was happening.  He was calculating and confident.  Confident enough to turn his back on someone with a gun, knowing he was in control and had the power.  He was a master of the psychological principle that "when at least two people are in a room, there is always a struggle for power."  Jesse just won. Always.  I would say he even won when he was shot by Robert Ford.  He took off his gun belt and willingly walked to another room with his family in the house and turned his back after realizing exactly why Ford was there.  Ford even recalled that it was the first time he had ever seen Jesse without his guns on.  Jesse chose to let his wall down and keep his quick hand off the trigger.  He died winning the power in the room.

On 8th October, 1879, Jessie James and his gang held up the Chicago & Alton Railroad at Glendale, Missouri and stole $6,000. This was followed by other raids, in one, at Blue Cut, Missouri, in September, 1881, the gang killed the conductor and a pensioner. The governor of Missouri, Thomas Crittenden, now responded by offering a reward of $10,000 for the capture of Jessie James.

Robert Ford, a member of the Jessie James gang, contacted Governor Crittenden and offered his services in order to gain this reward. On 3rd April, 1882, Ford visited Jessie James in his home and when he stood on a chair to straighten a picture on the wall, he shot him in the back of the head. Ford was found guilty of murder and sentenced to death. Two hours later he was pardoned by Crittenden and given his reward.

Thought #1
     I fell asleep Friday afternoon in a real bad position and my neck feels like cement.  I had been reading before and C.S. Lewis had brought to my attention a detail of our existence that I had considered before but never to the scale that I ever should have. Wrote the professor:
     It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which,if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree helping each other to one or the other of these destinations.

     Why hadn't this glued to my cerebral cortex before? I am a highly influential person in this world whether I choose to or not. 

     Rephrase: WE are highly influential people in this world whether WE choose to or not. 

     Do I regret all the things I have done to push someone towards actions towards an undesirable outcome? How would I ever be able to correct it?  I can't, so what do I do now?  What good have I brought about to offset the rest?  What will it take for me to only help others to the side of Lewis' relation?

Thought #2

    Perfection is not a state of being. It is a state of becoming.

Stewart Falls this morning.  Snowshoes.  With a wonderful Kristen Metzger. 8:00 am.

Half way up the trail, the moment became religious in thought and lesson.  The sun was blotted. You could look at it.  Moon-like. A perfect white circle.  If the fruit from the tree was lit like the paintings show, I imagine it looked like the source above us.  There was silence. It came from the rocks and snow.  Aspens had buds proving Mother Nature's hope in a day when she might thaw.  To talk at this time was almost sacrilegious as it obstructed the other noise.  In the silence there was a ring that one could hear.  Almost like  "Stewart" was singing to himself.