The Egg [Me]

I read this today and wanted to share it. It speaks to my beliefs. 

I also found a few videos that mostly follow it. The better ones, in my opinion:

- http://youtu.be/ehRggplMieM

- http://youtu.be/pgHvGg_2Lew

- http://youtu.be/d2VxMJzBsuM

The Egg

By: Andy Weir

You were on your way home when you died.

It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.

And that’s when you met me.

“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”

“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.

“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”

“Yup,” I said.

“I… I died?”

“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.

You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”

“More or less,” I said.

“Are you god?” You asked.

“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”

“My kids… my wife,” you said.

“What about them?”

“Will they be all right?”

“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”

You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”

“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”

“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”

“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”

“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”

You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”

“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”

“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”

I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.

“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”

“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”

“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”

“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”

“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”

“Where you come from?” You said.

“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”

“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”

“So what’s the point of it all?”

“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”

“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.

I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”

“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”

“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”

“Just me? What about everyone else?”

“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”

You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”

“All you. Different incarnations of you.”

“Wait. I’m everyone!?”

“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.

“I’m every human being who ever lived?”

“Or who will ever live, yes.”

“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”

“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.

“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.

“And you’re the millions he killed.”

“I’m Jesus?”

“And you’re everyone who followed him.”

You fell silent.

“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”

You thought for a long time.

“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”

“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”

“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”

“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”

“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”

“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”

And I sent you on your way.

I Hate Christians [Me]

Sometimes, I really hate other Christians. Well, not other Christians, because they aren't the same kind of Christians I am. But they call themselves Christians, and they shove that down the throat of everyone they meet. And when I identify as a Christian, the victims assume I'm that kind of Christian and hate me for it, and I can't even blame them. 

Let's split terms here. I believe that my God wants me to love people and be good and be happy. I prefer to think of Christianity as my faith, rather than my religion. So let's call people like me Faith Christians. And then there's the other folk, that tell everyone they're going to hell and argue and accuse and make the rest of the world think poorly about Christianity. Let's call them Religious Christians.

The impetus for today's rant comes from a friend who came to me asking for advice. She's in a therapy group where they are insisting that she recite the Serenity Prayer before every meeting. However, she's not Christian; why should they force her to say a Christian Prayer? That would be like my Muslim coworker dragging me to an office for prayer to Allah several times a day. How would that make any sense? I don't pray to a God I don't worship; why should she?

But what really made me angry came next. She has panic attacks every time someone starts talking about God because she grew up being told that she was a sinner and the Devil's child, and that God and Jesus were going to get her and punish her and make her suffer for it. She had this pounded into her head until she can't stand to even set foot in a church. She told me, "maybe one day I'll square out my issues with Jesus, but until then, I'm scared to death of him, God, and those who follow them". She's been told over and over that God is the big scary guy in the sky judging her and condemning her to Hell because she is evil. God is just as scary to her as Satan is.

I was really proud that she felt safe talking to me, knowing that I was a Christian, as she got into explaining. But I was also incredibly sad for her. The entirety of Christian teaching can be summed up as LOVE. And yet religious Christians were able to twist that around to terrorize this poor girl until she's afraid of the one being with the purest love for her. I hurt for her that she can't experience that love the way I do. And then I became angry. How dare these religious people sit in judgement of someone, telling her that she's evil, stealing away her ability to trust in her own Father?

Unfortunately, I have found Religious Christians to be some of the most judgemental, pushy, and negative people in my life. It's no wonder that I have so many friends that are Buddhists or pagan. I much prefer to talk faith with them than with these religious people. They are much closer to God - I mean, Love.

My Faith [Me]

I have several writings and references to my system of believing, and I'd like to bring them all together in one place. To many people, I probably don't appear to be a really heavily religious person. And for a lot of people, 'religious' is not a really positive term. It brings up images of people shoving tracts in your face, saying you'll go to Hell if you don't believe the way I believe. So that's correct, I'm not very religious. However, I have a deep faith in God and my relationship with Him. 

I didn't always; as a child I attended church a couple of times a year, Easter being one of them. And if you had asked me my religion, I would have said that I was Christian, because that's what was expected of me. I went to various churches, cathedrals, synagogues, and other places of worship with friends and classmates. There were a lot of Jewish kids in my class, so I attended a LOT of bar mitzvahs and bat mitzvahs at that age. As a pre-teen and teen I went to a Baptist summer camp for several weeks each summer. And I learned the church songs; I loved to sing them. But I was there for a getaway and to ride horses and have friends. I did get baptized at that camp, and I did get a better idea of what being Christian meant. But it wasn't an important thing in my life.

And then my daughter was born. And as she grew, so did my relationship with God. I got it, finally. He's my father. He loves me and guides me the way I love and guide my daughter - only better. And I listen about as well as most kids do to their parents, I have to admit. But that parent-child relationship was the foundation of my faith.

A few years later, my Mom was attending a local non-denominational church, and we started going with her. Again, for me it was more about singing in the choir and working in the nursery than it was learning about God. And it was about spending time with other Christians, trying to love each other. And it was about getting my daughter into some activities with some folks that would be better influences. For several years, it was good for us.

I don't attend church now, but that doesn't really matter. My Father and I, we have a relationship. Sometimes I remember to check in with Him a lot, sometimes I forget for a while. Just like with my Mom. But I know that He's watching and that He's there if I need Him.

So what do I believe? I believe my God wants me to be the best person I can be. I should treat other people with love and respect. I should help myself while asking help from Him. I should do no harm, to the best I am able. And when I mess up, I should ask for forgiveness. And when forgiveness is asked of me, I should try to grant it. I should accept happiness in myself, so that people look at me and want to have the kind of faith I have. Pretty much the same things I want for my daughter to be.

I started this off to link other writings about my faith here. Here's one I wrote on Facebook first - Faith as a Parent. A friend expressed surprise that I was Christian when she found out; what she meant was that I'm not 'that kind' of Christian. I have found lately that Tolerance has become a major part of my faith. And following that tolerance issue a step further, we arrive at Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.

So what triggered off this particular writing was actually an interview with Bono. Go read it; I think he and I may just worship the same God in a very similar way.

Reflection and Supposition - Lost Souls? [Me]

I was explaining to someone last week about Paul and Stephanie coming with memories of their very own that are not part of my original experience base. And that led to some thoughts for here.

You see, I tend to be a fairly practical, I-can-explain-this kind of girl. I'm a fan of Science. And being multiple, well, psycho-science can explain that. At a reasonably young age, there was some trauma. My mind just couldn't take the pressure, and it cracked. It seized upon this great propensity I have for acting and using my imagination, and turned that into, "I don't want to be the person suffering this. So I'll be somebody else." And alters were created. At another point, my mind decided it didn't like something else that was going on and thought, "Gee, wouldn't it be great if I were somebody else again?" - and made another alter. And so on. So all these alters in my head are basically my mind playing make-believe so hard that it became true. Yeah, that's simplified, but in essence, it works.

So there are spiritual schools of thought around multiplicity. But when we speak of the spiritual world, you have to start with the fact that I'm Christian. And I don't really see any room in my faith system for multiplicity. Of course, there are lots of things that the Bible doesn't address, like flying in airplanes and why some people molest children and the evolving of rules to fit the situation. But it leaves me confused and wondering how my multiplicity fits in. A person is a soul in a body, and when the body ceases to function, they go to the afterlife; done. Well, the best way I can explain the existence of my alters is as 'extra souls' in my body. So how did they get there? Did too many people get sent to live in this body by accident? Or were there some loose souls running around, and my predisposition toward multiple personalities gave them a 'dock' to land on and move in?

With most of my alters, they can be explained as a 'different me'. Rubi is who I might have been at seventeen if I hadn't gotten pregnant and all. Kiara is certainly a mix of me as a kid and my daughter as a kid. Sam could be me in college years if I hadn't been a mom at that time. But what about Jarett? I guess I could stretch and say me if I'd been born male. And then Paul came along - and he has memories. Memories of things that never happened to me. Memories of places I've never been. And then Stephanie showed up with memories from nearly two hundred years ago! And how can I 'stage' autistic behaviors like she shows?

So how do Paul and Stephanie fit in? Can I believe that I have taken things I've read and heard and created their worlds so clearly? I mean, I do have a very strong imagination, but if that's the case, why don't I make-believe people who are from happier worlds than I am, or from science fiction universes? The memory pieces they showed up with are too strong; I can't convince myself they are fictional. So that leaves Paul and Stephanie, at least, as beings that existed before they were in my body. Loose souls, if you will. How they ended up not in their bodies, I couldn't say, but they both lived pretty awful lives; I would certainly expect them to have died young and traumatically. Maybe that's why Paul hasn't managed to age-slide any older than seventeen, and that rarely.

Perhaps the trauma that ended their residence in their original bodies made them sensitive to a 'broken' mind, like that of a multiple. And so they came to try living in my body for a while. I don't understand how they didn't go on to an afterlife, but maybe it's because they hadn't had any chance to have any goodness in their lives. I feel some obligation to grant them some happiness, happiness they obviously didn't get to have before I knew them.

Does that mean they will be with me until I die, and then we'll all go to the afterlife together? I don't know; I just don't understand enough to be sure. Maybe once they've had 'enough', they'll move on on their own. Enough what, I don't know. Enough happiness, pleasure, goodness, maybe just enough life. Being multiple is a challenge to my faith, frequently.

But what it does mean to me is that I don't feel it's right to have shoved Stephanie away into cold storage. She needs to have a chance to live and love and experience. Her being out still frightens me, but I'm going to work with Boss to bring her back out sometime in the next few weeks, and he's going to work with her and try to get her to a point that it's not a danger to have her in front.

Biblical Marriage-Slavery [Me]

Yesterday I happened to run across some passages in the Bible that could ever-so-easily be applied to my relationship with the Boss, if taken a certain way. Which is, of course, a key to reading things in the Bible. You can find almost any meaning you wish to, should you look at it in a certain light. So this is an exercise, not a religious experience. Still, it's interesting.

About the time that we became 'a thing', an actual couple (okay, triad), where I was staying at his house more often than at my own, I decided to shave my head. There were a number of reasons for the shaving, but I asked him to do 'the deed' for me. About that time, I ran across this in Deuteronomy:

Deuteronomy 21:11-14 - Easy-to-Read Version (ERV)11 You might see a beautiful woman among the captives who you want to be your wife. 12 You must then bring her into your house where she will shave her head and cut her nails. 13 She must change her clothes and take off the clothes she was wearing when she was captured in war. She will stay in your house and be sad about losing her father and her mother for a full month. After that you may go to her to be her husband, and she will be your wife. 14 If you are not pleased with her and choose to divorce her, set her free. You cannot sell her. You had sexual relations with her, so you must not treat her like a slave.

So he found me beautiful, brought me into his house, shaved my head - and I was nude at the time. And I pretty much stayed there since, and that's been many months. So according to Deuteronomy, it is as if he has married me. Oh, except for that being an enemy captive part that started it.

Okay, so I could have left at any time. But I stayed. A few months later, he pierced my ear and put in Cherish's slave ring, signifying that he took her specifically as his slave forever. Oh, and back to Deuteronomy:

Deuteronomy 15:16-17 - Easy-to-Read Version (ERV)16 “But one of your slaves might say to you, ‘I will not leave you.’ He might say this because he loves you and your family and because he has a good life with you. 17 Make this servant put his ear against your door and use a sharp tool to make a hole in his ear. This will show that he is your slave forever. You must do this even to the women slaves who want to stay with you.

We could have left, but we loved him and would not leave him. So he put a hole in our ear and made us his slave forever, according to the Bible. Well, except for where the first passage said he cannot treat me as a slave. Hmmm....

Okay, so this was just a momentary amusement. As a Christian, I do follow Biblical teachings, but from the New Testament. Jesus said that the Old Law is no more. Still, these passages serve as a reminder that this sort of slavery-marriage is a Judeo-Christian tradition. I wonder what other interesting passages I can find?

I'm Not THAT Kind of Christian [Me]

A friend saw my new formal collar and asked me, "Why did he choose a cross for you?" And it made me sad. Because that tells me that my friend had no clue that I am a Christian. My Master is not Christian, and neither is his other girl. But he honors my faith by giving me a cross for his collar.

Here in the South, being Christian is almost a given, usually. But in the kink community it is not. Christians have been so judgmental and intolerant, as a group, that it has driven many folks of non-Christian faith together. Many of them have landed in the kink community, and I would say that Christians in kink are a large minority, rather than the huge majority, as it is outside our community.

However, I've always believed that if I were living my Christian faith properly, it should show in my life so strongly that I should not need to tell people what faith I follow; it should be obvious. My faith, and the way I behave because of it, should put a kind of light into my life that makes people want to have what I have, want to believe what I believe. They should look at me and say, "Oh yes, she's a loving Christ-like person; I want to know her God." So for someone that I know to be surprised when I said I was a Christian... that made me sad, as if I had failed to live with love in my life.

But I was talking with another friend, and she brought a different perspective to this. She said that she has seen that peace in my life; she has wanted to have what I have. And perhaps the reason that someone was surprised I am a Christian has nothing to do with my relationship with God, but instead has to do with other Christians. Unfortunately, there are many people that identify themselves as Christians, but what I see in their lives is hate and intolerance. I don't want to be associated with those folks.

Other Christians would quickly denounce my lifestyle. I'm living in sin in a polyamorous relationship. I have multiple sex partners. I let - no ask - people to hit me with things. And I run around naked in front of people that I'm not married to! And let's not even consider what they'd do with my multiplicity - an exorcism for demon possession, maybe? So yes, I live a life many Christians would describe as sinful and horrible. You know what? I didn't ask them, anyway.

I have an understanding with my God, my ultimate parent figure; we're good. And I live the way that I feel He would want me to. I practice tolerance and love. I love those around me as if they are mine. I strive to improve myself and hold myself to high standards of honor. I try to be kind and generous to others - not just other Christians, but to all others. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. But I try.

So I take it as a compliment that I don't look like those 'loud Christians' - please don't see me in their light. But I find it sad that when I tell someone I am a Christian, what they see is how different I am from those Christians, instead of seeing how much I try to be like Christ. My faith is strong; my religion needs an overhaul.

Am I An Adult YET? [Me, Sam]

I've had a couple of completely unrelated conversations recently about what it means to be an adult. How can you tell when you've finally 'grown up'?

Obviously, when you're 18 is one acceptable answer. If you're old enough to go fight and die for other folks, you deserve to be treated as an adult. You can legally sign a contract and be held to it. You can do serious time for breaking the law, and anything from that point will stick with you. Your parents no longer have a legal responsibility toward you - unless you go to college. You can inherit without someone else to supervise. You can buy what you want and can afford - except alcohol.  You can vote.

When my daughter asked me when I would consider her an adult, my answer depended heavily on being financially independent. She's already mature in most other ways. I told her I would consider her fully an adult when she was out of college, had her own job and place to live, and paid all of her own bills with no assistance needed from Mommy. By that measure, I'm almost grown up. My Mom has been giving me money to help with my mortgage for years. As of next month, she will no longer do so; I'll  finally be a grown-up, going by this measure.

But that's all the tangible things that really don't mean anything compared todisplaying adult behavior. Much of being an adult has to do with the intangible - your psychological maturity level, and how you react - or don't react.

An adult can be patient. May not be, but can be. A child wants everything right now. An adult will save up, waiting for that sale, or waiting to have the cash instead of going into debt. Or just waiting for the right time. An adult has to have patience with their finances, with other people, and with themselves.

An adult displays selflessness. When you are an adult, you realize that it's just not all about you. As long as it is all about you, you are still, psychologically, a child. Being an adult means sometimes putting aside your own wants and even needs in order to meet the wants and needs of your child, or your spouse, or someone else. An adult recognizes the need to sometimes make someone else a priority.

And an adult has learned to recognize that other people will not always agree with them. And that's okay. It's okay - even good - for people to have differing opinions, even to have conflicting facts. Just because you feel strongly about your thoughts on the matter, doesn't mean the other person is wrong. You can both have valuable viewpoints. Then again, you might be wrong. And an adult can accept that they have been wrong, admit it, and move on.

If admitting you're wrong isn't enough, sometimes you have to seek and reach a compromise. This goes back to the selflessness. Maybe everyone can't get everything they need, but you can make sure that the most important needs of each are met. It takes practice to learn how to find compromise - and more practice accepting it.

And when they've done wrong, an adult accepts the blame for what they've done. And accepts the consequences of those actions. Even the consequences of having done right. The choices you make color what happens to you. And how you react to that colors what happens next.

And what about those 'wrong' people? You can't be friends with them? That's okay. You don't have to like them. But you do have to treat them with a minimal level of respect and refrain from bashing them, belittling them, or infringing upon their rights. Yeah, I'm talking about tolerance. Adults have it.

You know what else adults have? Self control. Your temper will get you in trouble. So will your impatience. Or your dislike of a person or situation. An adult has learned how to get through a situation, a day, a down time, a conversation. You don't have to like it, but you have to deal with it. And with the consequences thereof.

Honor and Accountability. When an adult says they will do something, they will. An adult makes - and keeps - appointments and commitments. And if they can't keep a commitment, they inform the other parties, and do what's reasonable to make up for it or fix a substitute. It's simply unthinkable to just shirk one's responsibilities - if you're an adult.

And there are a few last spiritual items on want to touch upon - if anyone is still reading.

An adult has figured out that you can't stop growing once you grow up. An adult takes steps to improve themselves - whether that is to increase their ability to follow the guidelines above, improve their health, learn something, move along a spiritual path, or just to be a better person. An adult takes control of their own happiness, instead of depending on someone else to make them happy.

I asked my Facebook friends how they know when they are an adult. My favorite answer:
When I quit asking people for permission to be me.

What's Religion?... My Personal Faith [Me]

This is actually a Facebook note I wrote out almost two years ago - back when I was struggling to accept being multiple. What I wasn't struggling with, though, was my faith. If you read the post I made about IDIC not long ago, and put it together with this, you've pretty much got my personal belief system all outlined out.




From 'Potty Talk' by Trish Crist:

I don't have to figure out whether or not God exists.
I don't have to know if there IS a God, choose whether it's Buddha or Mohammed or Jesus whose teachings are a direct line to him, or worry about how religious explanations don't really mesh with science. I just have to acknowledge when good things happen and be thankful for them. I can revere spirit - and I don't mean the Holy Spirit as in One of the "Big Three," the greatest trio of all time-- I mean kindness, within others, within me. Acknowledge good things with gratitude - that's religion.

I asked for this piece from the script of Potty Talk after I saw it this weekend. It spoke to me. I mean, I am a Christian - I have decided that I believe in the Christian God - just made the decision, without force or proof, which is very hard for me. I have a relationship with God. And it's my relationship, settled between Him and me, external of anyone else's opinion or approval. But the keystone to my personal understanding of God is as described above. God is defined as Goodness and Love. My worship of God is to be good to other people - and good to myself, which can be harder. And harder still is to be thankful for goodness toward me.

+++

My faith never really took a particular shape until I became a parent. As a child, I accepted that there was a God because the adults in my life said He was there. I wasn't particularly afraid of Him, nor did I feel any particular love from Him. Church was a social event we attended a few times a year, usually to appease family.

When I became a parent, and as my child grew, my faith grew and developed into something that I could feel and hold and embrace. God is my Father. He loves me in the same way that I love my daughter - unconditionally, weathering all, without bounds. And I love Him in the same way that I love my parents - tenderly, seeking approval, accepting support.

When my daughter is suffering, I suffer more for her than I ever could for myself. When she is happy, it pleases me more than my own happiness could ever do. I have done everything I can to show and teach my daughter what kind of person she could be, what paths she should follow in life, and every thing she might need to learn. Sometimes, she follows where I have led her. Sometimes she forges her own path. It doesn't matter, I watch her along either path, and I'm there for her if she should stumble and fall. But I let her fall first. She has to be her own person.

When she asks me for advice, I give it. When she doesn't, I try to keep my mouth shut - but she knows the advice is there for her if she wants it. When she makes a bad decision, I could never turn away from her. Yes, there might be an 'I told you so', but there are also hugs and a shoulder to hold her tears. And if she needs help to fix her mess, I'll help her. But I won't do it for her. And when she makes the right decision, and good things happen, I rejoice for her and with her. I brag on her, for I'm so proud of the person she is. This is MY daughter.

I know I'm not perfect. I've made mistakes - some of which my daughter has learned from, some which she is bound to repeat. But I will never fail to love my daughter and treasure her. My Father God, however, is perfect - he's never made the mistakes I have. And He loves me the same way that I love my child. Sometimes I disappoint him. Sometimes I listen to his advice and knowingly choose to follow a different path. It's okay, He loves me anyway.

IDIC - Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations [Me]

I'm reposting this one from, of all things, a Facebook note. It relates to my personal beliefs, and I'll get into that as it relates to the kink and the poly and the multi later.

Several people have asked me about that funny circle-and-triangle picture that I use so frequently online. That is the IDIC. It symbolizes a philosophy that means a lot to me, one that I try to keep in mind. So I share it with you here.

First, the geeky part. This is a Vulcan philosophy - yeah, from Star Trek. The symbol is the Kol-Ut-Shan, and has been shown or referred to in The Original Series, the movies, Enterprise, Voyager, and Deep Space Nine. It's Gene Roddenberry's invention, but his lengthy explanation of it was cut from the script of the episode "Is There in Truth No Beauty?" Fan theory is that the IDIC represents the sun rising over Mount Seleya.

.

But what does it mean? The IDIC concept stresses appreciation and utilization of the differences between people. Rather than distrust or even hate someone who is different, we should look for what makes each of us special and use that to the advantage of all. Treating everyone the same casts aside the very things that make them worthwhile. On one site, I found the following explanation: IDIC "represents a Vulcan belief that beauty, growth, and progress all result from the union of the unlike. Because concord, as much as discord, requires the presence of at least two different notes, diversity is good. The brotherhood of man is an ideal based on learning to delight in our essential differences, as well as learning to recognize our similarities."

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What's the politically correct term for someone who is handicapped? Differently abled? Maybe we should look at that as applying to each of us. Because if you have three people in a room with the same abilities and qualifications, two of them are redundant and thus unnecessary. We are each differently abled. And we are stronger in our differences. There is too much in the world to learn - no one person can learn to do it all. But as we each specialize, the group is much more able to achieve a goal than several individuals will be. When we put together a set for a play, as an example, we split up the jobs. People who are detail-oriented should measure and cut the wood. Someone strong should carry the furniture in. Screws all over the floor? Great job for some little kid with a bucket. And the job gets done.

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In C.S. Firedman's book THIS ALIEN SHORE (the underlining is malfunctioning), I found this quote that spoke to me: "God save us from an Earth in which all men are the same. God save us from a colony where that is the goal, or a culture which assumes that for its norm. Give me a thousand people speaking different tongues, worshiping different gods, and dreaming different dreams, and I will make of them a greater nation than you can make with ten thousand of your gengineered duplicates. For mine will have the spark of greatness in them, while yours will live for conformity, worship mediocrity, and take their carefully modulated delight in predigisted dreams."

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Here's a link that discusses IDIC further; I found it very good. http://www.bookmice.net/darkchilde/spirit/idic.html

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Incidentally, a variant of the IDIC is used by the polyamorous community. The ILIC is Inifinite Love in Infinite Combinations. "It is a variation on Pi-and-the-three-colors from the Polyamory Pride Flag. Like the flag, the colors are: blue, representing the openness and honesty among all partners with which people who are polyamorous conduct their multiple relationships; red, representing love and passion; and black, representing solidarity with those who, though they are open and honest with all participants of their relationships, must hide those relationships from the outside world due to societal pressures."