essential oils

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In the aforementioned John Masefield sonnet, he noted “the straitened spirit’s possibility.”  He posited the notion that when the human spirit is “straitened”, or undergoes adversity, it is possible to discover hidden dimensions of life, dimensions of life which empower the individual to soar, “to stream our fiery hour like a comet.”  Emily Dickinson also knew the value adversity:

 

Essential Oils—are wrung—
The Attar from the Rose
Be not expressed by Suns—alone—
It is the gift of Screws—

The General Rose—decay—
But this—in Lady’s Drawer
Make Summer—When the Lady lie
In Ceaseless Rosemary

By the “gift of screws” she was using the image of an old screw press, in which rose leaves were pressed between plates of steel which were tightened together by turning screws.  Thus the essence of the rose was extruded.  She was speaking from experience, that when life’s difficulties weigh down on us it is often possible that “essential oils are wrung.”  She was saying that when “the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir too” (Shakespeare/Hamlet) become overwhelming, we should maintain hope that from this moment something could might follow.

 

 

the “glib and oily art”

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In his play, King Lear, Shakespeare noted the “glib and oily art, to speak and purpose not.”  Words are usually trotted out….yes, glibly…and that is fine.  Words are the currency of any particular culture.  If we had to sit down and ponder re the meaning of what we were about to say, then our culture would quickly disintegrate into a morass of self-contemplation, “navel gazing.”  But the problem is that often people never into their entire life get beyond “the glib speech of habit, well-worn words and ready phrases that build comfortable walls against the wilderness.”   (Conrad Aiken).  We are often verbal auto-matons, offering the appropriate “words and phrases” for the various circumstances in our life.  We then fail to ever offer an authentic word, a word spoken from the heart.  We fail to acknowledge the wisdom of Shakespeare in the concluding lines of King Lear, “The weight of this sad time we must obey, speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.”  It is sad to realize that many people…..most people…never speak an authentic “feeling” word.  Even more so it is so sad to realize that our culture is set up to prevent authenticity, it depends on people trotting out those “well worn words and ready phrases.”  We are fortunate to live in a culture where there is some freedom to individual expression, in spite of the weight of socio-economic pressure, in spite of social regimentation.

shakespeare sonnet

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SONNET 146 by William Shakespeare

Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,
(Thrall to) These rebel powers that thee array;
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? is this thy body’s end?
Then soul, live thou upon thy servant’s loss,
And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
Within be fed, without be rich no more:
So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
And Death once dead, there’s no more dying then.

 

Shakespeare said it all.  No one has grasped the human psyche like that man.  Here he echoed the words of Jesus, who once posed the question, “What shall it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his own soul?”  Shakespeare recognized that there is a center, a quiet place, which often goes without notice.  It is a place which is largely not recognized by our current culture.  We are busy compulsively “painting our outward walls so costly gay”, ignoring the admonishment to, “Within be fed, without be rich no more.”  We are guilty of the sin of misplaced concreteness, taking for real what is only ephemeral.  And the price tag for this is a loss of perspective, a missing connection with the spiritual dimension which alone gives life meaning.  John Masefield noted, “We chase the shade, and let the real be.”

 

Here is the Masefield sonnet:

 

Man has his unseen friend, his unseen twin,

His straitened spirit’s possibility,

The palace unexplored he thinks an inn,

The glorious garden which he wanders by.

It is beside us while we clutch at clay

To daub ourselves that we may never see.

Like the lame donkey lured by moving hay

We chase the shade but let the real be.

Yet, when confusion in our heaven brings stress,

We thrust on that unseen, get stature from it,

Cast to the devil’s challenge the man’s yes,

And stream our fiery hour like a comet,

And know for that fierce hour a friend behind,

With sword and shield, the second to the mind.

 

“spirit vs. letter of the law”

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Last posting concluded with the notion that faith required “losing sight of the shore” at some point.  The issue here is going beyond the mere conceptual dimension of spirituality and addressing the finitude of existence and even the finitude of faith itself.  It is to reach that point in one’s spiritual development that he/she recognizes emotionally that “we see through a glass darkly’…no longer is this merely a biblical bromide to trot out…. and that there is a definite limit to the function of intellect in spiritual matters.  For most of us, to reach this point in spiritual development is to encounter anxiety/depression to some degree.  To some this experience amounts to what D. W.  Winnicott described as a “psychic catastrophe.”  I would apply that clinical term to the Apostle Paul’s Demascus Road conversion.  I would use the same term to describe Eckhart Tolle’s spiritual crisis when he was aged 29.

 

But it is easier and more comforting, in the immediate, to keep our spiritual experience confined to the conceptual or rational.  There we can find “true belief” or religious fundamentalism.  (See Eric Hoffer’s The True Believer)  Another way of addressing this issue is the distinction made in the New Testament between “the letter of the law” and the “spirit of the law,”—-the conceptual is the “letter of the law” and that which transcends the “letter of the law” is the “spirit.”   And I think it was the Apostle Paul who noted that “the letter killeth, but the Spirit maketh alive.” (2 Corinthians 3)  In the 20th century Paul Tillich noted, “A religion within the confines of reason is a mutilated religion.”

 

And Tillich was certainly not recommending the irrational.  He speaking of the need of balance, that persons of faith recognize that their intellect does not give them command or control over God, that there is another dimension which must be given attention.  There is a Buddhist aphorism that is appropriate:  The finger pointing to the moon must not be confused for the moon itself.  Words are not the “thing in itself”; words are merely pointers.

“just a passin’ through….”

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“This world is not my home, I’m just a passin’ through.”  This old trope from conservative Christian hymnody reflects the ancient notion that this world is transitory and fleeting, that there is some other dimension of life from which we emerged and from which we are cut off.  Einstein himself held a similar conviction, noting that ultimately there is a “mystery” at the bottom of life and that this “mystery” is ultimately “impenetrable.”  The New Testament noted that at best “we see through a glass darkly” and that we “hold this treasure in earthen vessels.”

 

This “other dimension” is often in our culture thought of as “heaven.”  But I remember when growing up I took it too literally and thought of it as some place far off but nevertheless “out there.”  However, if it is “out there” then it is present in time and space.  Paul Tillich and other theologians have posed the notion of God and “out there” as being “Wholly Other”, believing that a chasm separates us from “out there” and thus, from our Source.  And only faith can bridge that gap but it requires a faith which is willing to face that  “impenetrable” chasm.  Someone once noted that when we’re taking a far journey it is often necessary to lose sight of the shore for a moment.

 

 

why do i do this?

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Well, as noted in the book of Job…and I paraphrase…”my belly is full of words.  It is like a full wines-skin, about to burst.”  Or, to borrow a line from Shakespeare, I “unpack my heart with words.”  This is in some part a therapeutic effort.  I do believe it is helpful to open the heart and offer a verbal “deed to oblivion” (to paraphrase t.s. eliot).  And oblivion is no where more available in our culture than the internet.

psalms 131 reading

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1 O LORD, I am not proud; *

I have no haughty looks.

2 I do not occupy myself with great matters, *

or with things that are too hard for me.

3 But I still my soul and make it quiet,

like a child upon its mother’s breast; *

my soul is quieted within me.

4 O Israel, wait upon the LORD, *

from this time forth for evermore.

emily dickinson

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Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

There’s a certain slant of light

              1There’s a certain slant of light,
              2On winter afternoons,
              3That oppresses, like the weight
              4Of cathedral tunes.
              5Heavenly hurt it gives us;
              6We can find no scar,
              7But internal difference
              8Where the meanings are.
              9None may teach it anything,
            10’Tis the seal, despair,–
            11An imperial affliction
            12Sent us of the air.
            13When it comes, the landscape listens,
            14Shadows hold their breath;
            15When it goes, ’tis like the distance
            16On the look of death.