Josh Allred's Blog

With the life cycle of news being so short (instant in fact), it’s easier to make a headline clickable than to prove something to be factual. Compounded by our short attention span, it is no wonder that the internet pays attention to conspiracy theories.

The arrow, however, points both ways.

In a world where conspiracy theories can thrive, we don’t take into account how many of them die. For example, we have plenty of evidence to support the fact that the moon landing happened. But that won’t get the clicks when something new is drummed up to debunk it.

Lies are fiction. And we don’t have to accept everything that is presented as fact. We don’t need to take everything we hear as the truth either. Instead, we can hold the space of, “I haven’t done the reading yet, but tell me your thoughts.”

I can proudly say I have lost 35 pounds in the last year. And it wasn’t done with a fancy diet or pills. What was focused on was developing a strategy and selecting the corresponding tactics. Here is what I would recommend:

Train the mind. Read every day. Occupy that space so that when you are bored, you are not reaching in the cupboard.

Walk every day. 10,000 to 20,000 steps a day (sometimes more even). If you’re sore, there’s nothing wrong with taking a rest day. Buy a pair of comfortable shoes to wear for walking.

Have a go-to meal. For me, it was three eggs with an avocado, spinach, and feta cheese every morning. For lunch, I often went to Trader Joe’s frozen meals. If you’re starving, try eating a bite or two of something to calm your nervous system. In the summer, I grilled a lot of different meats for dinner.

Be patient and kind with yourself. I was pretty ashamed I had let myself go, which only perpetuated the eating habit. Letting go of who you used to be is the first step in becoming the person you want to be.

The problem with conversations about justice is how we seek it. Too often, it moves to the letter of the law, our biases and prejudices, and who has the resources to fight for it in court. Ultimately, we are not discussing justice in its purest form, but rather our particular form of justice. Justice is a series of tradeoffs. But those tradeoffs are not always fair. We don’t condemn a criminal to rape if a criminal has raped someone. Yet, we are quick to do the same for murder. A minor can be tried as an adult in some states if the crime is severe enough. Of course, the U.S. has a problem with private entities whose primary goal is profit, rather than rehabilitation, creating an incentive to keep beds full. A Judge or district attorney might say that justice is served by the letter of the law, while we can all simultaneously nod our heads in agreement that such a punishment is inhumane. I wonder if a better conversation isn’t about finding justice anymore. Since the current system doesn’t produce such outcomes, it instead focuses on how we can have a discussion around dignity for those involved. So many questions left unanswered, but the proper conversation starts here.

Zeno’s paradox states that any number can be divided in half. So, in order to travel 10 feet, you must go 5 feet, but before that, 2.5 feet. And so on until you get an obscure number. And the idea is, how can one ever close the gap? What’s interesting is that we can learn to zoom. For instance, scientists can zoom in at the microscopic level. What’s past an electron? Well, we know we go from structure to unstructured, where the rules of time and space no longer matter. And what’s past that? We don’t know. Probably nothing. But we can’t be sure since no microscope of that power exists.

Meaning beginner’s mind. It’s a Zen Buddhist term that teaches us to approach life with openness by dropping the preconceived notions of how we see the world.

Imagine a cup. We can fill it with anything. But often, we choose to fill it with expectations rather than possibilities. Here’s the thing about expectations, when we feel like we deserve something or feel entitled, we leave no room for anything else. Having high expectations creates a narrow view of seeing the world of possibilities. Lowering your expectations, however, opens a door to be surprised.

I found Tim Ferriss’ interview with Terry Real incredibly insightful. Highlighting the problems I personally see in our culture with toxic individualism (doing what makes us happy), describing unpopular views of power dynamics, and tackling masculinity and patriarchy. The model for tackling recovery: 1) the Addiction, 2) Personality Issues, and 3) finally, the childhood trauma is sound. And finally, I found this section hit close to home:

Sometimes, the greatest thing we can do is change the culture of family dynamics. How are things doing around here? More importantly, how things used to be will not be tolerated going forward.

Because being without fear is not a luxury humans get to have. It isn’t a choice; it is always present. Our choice is when fear shows up–for instance, fight, flight, or freeze. We live in constant fear.

So, yes, if you can live without fear, by all means. But what is better for the majority of us that can be crippled by it is to dance with it. Dance with the fear. Because fear will never go away, much like a shadow. We might as well learn to befriend it instead. There is a reason why psychologists push for a growth mindset and not a fearless one.

(Departing thought: Perhaps something always around isn’t an enemy but a friend.)

I had the opportunity to write a short vignette piece for SLUG.

Here is the original piece:

It’s not a quiet place. After all, Wu-Tang Clan is cranking over the speakers. It isn’t a place to sit down, either. There is one picnic table to sit on, or you are left relegated to the concrete slab that fortunately is basking in the sun this morning. Central 9^th Market is a place to fill your tank. The food is something your mom made—at least something you wish she could make. The old joke that “this was made with the special ingredient of ‘love.” But this isn’t love. It is something more precise. Not so formulaic that you can’t taste what is going on. But more precise than your favorite burger joint…it fits. The kitchen is out in the open. You see two people working as chef/cashier/butcher/fry cook—guardians of local eats. The focaccia bread is stacked at the end of the tall counter. The loaves, if that is what you call them, are at least 24+ inches across by 12 inches wide. You can try a sample covered in olive oil in the front, but there is no need. You know this is good.

I wait in line and watch as other customers quietly come and go. I walk up to the counter, and order the usual comfort meal—The Breakfast Sando with a fried egg and bacon slapped with a slice of cheddar cheese (the best to melt and complete any sandwich), and sando sauce smooshed between two slices of focaccia—with a cherry limeade by Taproot—local soda to wash it down. It’s only 10 o’clock in the morning, and I don’t care about the sugar intake. I’m not hungover, but I am not exactly sober, somewhere in between. 

A few minutes later, I hear “Order for Josh.” Already, my mouth is salivating like Pavlov’s dog, hearing my name called. I rush over to the counter, throw a couple of napkins in, and grab my brown bag with my sandwich neatly wrapped inside. No show and tell here. “If you know, you know.” I walk outside, and indeed, the picnic table is open. I sit down, open up my sandwich, and take a bite. The bread is warm and crisp. The egg yolk is now spreading across the sandwich. I can hear the crunch with every bite—never getting soggy. The sando sauce is perfect. And so is life. Not because everything is perfect. Not because I am perfect. Not because this sandwich is perfect. It’s because, at this moment, everything feels perfect. For a moment, I forget my restlessness. I am just there. In the right order, in its proper place. The sun is out, and now my belly is full. I try to stay longer, but I can’t. Everything was decided before I got here, and now that I am here, I am too rigid to change plans. 

I go back in, throw away the bag, and compliment the two working in the back, thanking them for a perfect way to start the day. Now that everything is finished, I too must leave. Life is indeed impermanent. Quietly, I step out. I turn the corner and walk 24 and half steps, and on the corner of my eye, I read a sign with a grim reaper on it that says, “Fuck around, find out.” It’s Saturday. Only Saturday. 

This is the key to empathy. When we know how someone was raised, what they were taught, and what they have been through, we can understand their struggle. Of course, we are left only to imagine. But it is possible when we learn, are curious, watch, and listen—we can imagine better. If we do not take the time to learn, perhaps the next best thing we can do is assume the best. Give the benefit of the doubt. And exercise patience.

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… until you climb inside his skin and walk around in it.” — Harper Lee, To Kill A Mockingbird

If it’s true, then it must be false. And if it is false, then it must be true. In my humble opinion, the key to the meaning of life is found in this simple sentence. Life is paradoxical by nature. There is no definitive ground to stand on. There is no single answer to finding the meaning of life, which means we are left to create our own interpretation of life’s complexities.

In the end, we are trapped in this loop of reason. The unique thing that helps humans stand apart is our ability to step out of the loop and look at it from afar. We can solve problems, cooperate, work in unison, and create meaning—something no other entity (as far as we know) can do. Which makes me think we are asking the wrong question. Perhaps the better question to explore is how one experiences life rather than why.