Our Beastly Dimension Can Be Subtle

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Darkness and evil have been a focus of mine most of my life.  For the first few decades I saw it “out there” only and then began seeing and experiencing its presence in the deepest parts of my soul.  This is not to say that I became “evil” as such at any time, but I began to realize that the “shadow” of Carl Jung was present with us all, including even in our most pious ambitions and behaviors.  I’ve lived long enough now to see this abysmal ugliness come to the fore in my country in a most egregious form where standards of moral and spiritual propriety are routinely scoffed at, disrespect for our fellow humankind is rampant, and organized religion exists often only in a bastardized form. 

A friend sent me only yesterday a link to a 19th century evangelical Scottish pastor, George MacDonald, who was also a writer of fantasy literature.  I was immediately intrigued with him, looked up his Wiki-quotes, and found the following, “A beast does not know that he is a beast, and the nearer a man gets to being a beast, the less he knows it.”  It made me think of earlier days in my life, and in tendencies I still have, and in certain dimensions of our country’s political leadership.  Recognizing this “beastliness” of our nature is often addressed in spiritual traditions under the rubric of “sin.”  But MacDonald recognized that the closer one has devolved into beastliness, the least likely is he to acknowledge this to himself or others even with a simple note like, “I was wrong.”  The beast cannot acknowledge any fault because he is driven only by his appetites without any filtering by self-reflection.  He knows only what his appetites compel him toward. 

That “Deep State” That Besets Us.

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I too have a “deep state” that is besieging me!  Yes, “they” or “it” is after me.  Oh, I used to think it was “out there” in the person of all those bad people and institutions who did not “see the light” as I did; but now I realize that my fears and insecurities were misdirected.  That “deep state” was within and will always be…as long as I remain a “paltry” human. I now realize that the “deep state” I always projected “out there” is merely the unconscious, that hidden domain of my heart which I did not have the courage to acknowledge.  And, yes it is a dark and ominous region of human experience, as in Goethe’s observations, “The heart has its beastly little treasures.”  My unwillingness to withdraw my projections for most of my life has cost me the store house of treasures in my heart which I catch faint glimpses of every now and then.  But the “beastly” dimension of the heart is always there! 

What is that “beastly” dimension of the heart?  In my experience, including reading and study but certainly including the intricate, frightening dimensions of “experience”, I have found that it is believing what you “believe” in an ironclad fashion, failing to recognize and respect the limitations of our human-ness, especially cognition.  We believe what we want to believe; and even if these beliefs might be very “noble” when we elevate them to sacrosanctity, we risk disregarding the wisdom of the Apostle Paul who noted that at best we only “see through a glass darkly.” 

The problem is “believing in our belief.”  One simple example is paranoia, If you believe the world is out to get you at some point it is likely to fulfill your unconscious wishes and “come after your ass.”  That is because the deep-seated distrust of life that you harbor will eventually spill over to the point that your judgement is gravely impaired, and the legal system will have to fulfill its responsibilities to intervene.  But the core issue is the insecurity, fragility, and terror that reigns in your heart. 

AND, on the matter of “believing in your belief,” I’m reminded of my favorite bumper sticker, “Don’t believe everything you think.”  So, you believe the moon is made out of cheese???  Why not consider what some of the other people in your world think about this notion?  So, you think “the Lord has ‘raised up’ Trump,” how about toying with the notion there might be some degree of flaw in that vein of thought?  But when a vein of thought is based on profound fear and anxiety that cannot be acknowledged, one will be enthralled with that vein of thought to the point of certainty. 

Aw, the sweet nectar of certainty!!! I remember it well.

Poetry “Kicks Ass” and Wields Justice

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Poetry kicks ass!  Yes, poetry comes at one from “out there” and rattles our cage…but only if our “cage” is amenable to being rattled!  But most of us are appropriately “human-ized” and have a cage which is hermetically sealed to protect us from anything “out there.”  We humans currently are having a lessen given to us about being “hermetically-sealed” in this “small bright circle of our consciousness, beyond which lies the dark” even though it is in this “dark” that we might begin to see the Light.   

Whew!  Now, I’ve settled down.  Let me explain.  I just this morning discovered another brilliant poet in The Paris Review, Zoe Hitzig, who is a doctoral student in economics at Harvard University.  Yes, I did say, “doctoral student ‘in economics’” as crazy as that sounds for a poet! 

Here I want to share some wisdom she offered in quoting another literary figure, Grace Paley, “One of the things art is about, for me, is justice. Now that isn’t a matter of opinion, really. That isn’t to say, ‘I’m going to show these people right or wrong’ or whatever… [It’s] the illumination of what isn’t known, the lighting up of what is under a rock, of what has been hidden.” 

Poetry brings “justice” as it exposes that which has been hidden.  And, I might add, “justice” has been pretty hard on me the past 35 or so years since it deigned to intrude upon my hermetically sealed prison! 

Another “Dust Bunny” Paean With a Poem

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The “dust of the earth” which the Bible tells us we were created from is increasingly such a meaningful image to me.  Yes, it is probably because I’m closer daily to that point where I will become what Hamlet famously described as, “the food of worms;” but in the meantime I increasingly appreciate and even revel in my existential status of being a “dust bunny” of sorts.  This earthiness that each of us share, a commonality superseded only by That which undergirds the whole of this “goodly frame,” is a playground for each of us, a playground which, however, does involve occasional bumps and bruises..  The following poem by Ross Gay, described prominently in his biography as “a gardener,” so beautifully describes one poet’s intimate connection with and respect for this Earth.

If you find yourself half naked
and barefoot in the frosty grass, hearing,
again, the earth’s great, sonorous moan that says
you are the air of the now and gone, that says
all you love will turn to dust,
and will meet you there, do not
raise your fist. Do not raise
your small voice against it. And do not
take cover. Instead, curl your toes
into the grass, watch the cloud
ascending from your lips. Walk
through the garden’s dormant splendor.
Say only, thank you.
Thank you. If you find yourself half naked
and barefoot in the frosty grass, hearing,
again, the earth’s great, sonorous moan that says
you are the air of the now and gone, that says
all you love will turn to dust,
and will meet you there, do not
raise your fist. Do not raise
your small voice against it. And do not
take cover. Instead, curl your toes
into the grass, watch the cloud
ascending from your lips. Walk
through the garden’s dormant splendor.
Say only, thank you.
Thank you.

Perspective From the Lens of a Camera

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Perspective.  We all have one…and if you are “lucky” you will not be aware of it! By that I am alluding to a wise quip from the philosopher Paul Ricoeur who once noted, “You can’t have a perspective on your perspective without somehow escaping it.”  The “escape” can be frightening, especially if it comes too abruptly. (See the Apostle Paul on the Damascus Road.)

Photography has helped bring this matter to my attention.  This morning in The Guardian I discovered an Italian photographer, Olivo Barbieri, whose work is “interesting” with how it takes the happenstance of day-to-day life, captures it with the lens, and presents it to us.  This “capture” is known as “framing” in photography.  In the photography show, attached below, Barbieri displays a very wry grasp of his world and conveys it to people, such as “moi”, who appreciate the “wry” in life.  I’m sure some would look at his work and say, scratching their head perhaps, “Huh?”

Perspective is a life-long concern of mine.  If you read this “font of wisdom” very often, you will see how I focus on the matter, bringing emphasis to dimensions of life to which most people would not pay any attention.  If we lack perspective, we often will be consumed or even devoured by one of which we are not conscious; that can, too often, bode ill for us and those in our world.  Our president, and his disciples, are a current egregious example of this.

Below is a link to the Barbieri story and a copy of one of his pictures.  Several of his pictures are available if you check out the link.

https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/gallery/2020/sep/22/eyes-playing-tricks-olivo-barbieri-italian-photographer-in-picture

Taking a “Gander” at Reality Once Again

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I have spent most of my life “gandering” at reality…as if anyone can do so.  With my intuition, and life-long study of psychology and philosophy, I realize that I was skeptical of reality from the earliest days of my life, even before cognition began to “convince” me that things were as they appeared.  I was born into a strange world and am now seeing this “strangeness” made even more manifest as Trumpian madness continues to maraud across the landscape of our soul. But a caveat is warranted.  “Reality” is not to be objectified as I am claiming to have done; daring to “think “ I have done so puts me outside of reality, beyond the pale, an offence to which I confess guilt.  Whew, what a blessing though it took me most of my life to find the existential courage to accept that lot.

Reality is a nuanced phenomenon, so “nuanced” that we are hard-wired to carve this nuanced world into which we are born into definition so that we can function in a very “defined” world.  But this same “wiring” permits us to find the courage at some point to contemplates that the world of “definitions” we have taken for granted needs a second glance.  But this “permission” is not a mandate; it lies in that “foul rag and bone shop of the heart” where, according to the Apostle Paul lie “the thoughts and intents of the heart” which require openness to the “Other.”

“Prayer” by Louis Untermeyer

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Louis Untermeyer is an obscure poet who has etched himself in my heart, primarily due to the poem which I will attach, “Prayer.”  The poem itself reveals so much about the man and the inner torments which led him into the literary world.  But these “torments,” whatever they were, wreaked havoc often in his life.  He was married three or four times and one of his sons committed suicide at age 19.  Furthermore, he was a panelist on the popular TV show in 1950, “What’s My Line” but ruffled feathers so that he was forced out leading to a year-long depression and social isolation.  I think the description “irascible and cantankerous” would describe him. He knew the W. H. Auden wisdom, “We wage the war we are.”

Poetry arises from a tumult in the soul and without men and women who have had the courage to wrestle with this tumult humankind would be at a loss.  Poetry brings to the table depths of the heart that the simple prosaity of day-to-day life cannot offer.

Prayer
God, though this life is but a wraith,
Although we know not what we use,
Although we grope with little faith,
Give me the heart to fight – and lose.
Ever insurgent let me be,
Make me more daring than devout;
From sleek contentment keep me free,
And fill me with a buoyant doubt.
Open my eyes to vision girt
With beauty, and with with wonder lit –
But let me always see the dirt,
And all that spawn and die in it.
Open my ears to music; let
Me thrill with Spring’s first flutes and drums –
But never let me dare forget
The bitter ballads of the slums.
From compromise and things half-done,
Keep me, with stern and stubborn pride;
And when, at last, the fight is won,
God, keep me still unsatisfied.
– Louis Untermeyer

“Bay of Pigs Award”??? Huh???

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Trump yesterday in a speech made a casual reference to him having been given the “Bay of Pigs Award.”  Immediately, we knew that no such award existed.  A bit of exploration revealed that at a Cuban museum sometime ago, Trump being a TV celebrity, was given a pin of some sorts for his lapel.  But in the speech yesterday, he illustrated a verbal “finesse” he and his minions have applied so often in the past four years, taking a “word’ or concept and “spinning” it a bit to totally misconstrue its meaning in the present world.  BUT, given the office he now holds, his words, deceitful though they might be, hold power and today many of his minions will be voicing admiration for his being honored with this “Bay of Pigs Award.” Trump is a god of sorts, though a very dark one, and he can “speak things into existence” though they have no existence other than what he has created with his word; and avid devotees with hungry ears and hearts readily aid and abet him, helping to make his lies into “truth.

Reality is specious, but that is frightening to consider.. These “minions” of Trump’s will swallow this b.s.,  hook, line, and sinker, and those who don’t will do the Paul Ryan and Reince Priebus two-step in response—doing or saying absolutely nothing.  And joining in this “two-step” will be kool-aid intoxicated GOP upper echelon of today such as Mitch McConnell and Lindsey Graham.  But these people are not necessarily “bad” they are simply powerless to speak out as speaking out would jeopardize the whole of their identity as staunch Republicans who follow the Loretta Lynn advice of, “Stand by Your Man.” And, yes, if they never find the courage to speak up, that makes them “very” bad.

This fiasco is serving the existential purpose of rubbing “reality” under our noses and daring us to smell the stink.  Oh, “reality” has more to offer than “stink,” but the “stink” is there…if we are honest. Just ask the marginalized sectors of our society. There is a sense in which reality is what we want it to be and the GOP is demonstrating for us just how far this “want” can go if it feels in jeopardy.  This “want” can be thought of a will and “will” unmitigated is destructive of the self and everyone around it.

So does reality “stink?”  Well, reality just “is” and I will avoid the temptation to go Bill Clinton on you and observe, “Well, it depends on what the meaning of ‘is’ is.”  We live in this conundrum that called reality and yes it does stink; but it also smells good a lot of the time.  We must not allow the present stink… dank, dark and ugly though it is, to crush us.  A waft of fresh air will come at some point and blow that wretching smell away for a moment in time, including the giant orange-mopped “stinker” that has brought it to us.

Artificial Intelligence Has Become Eerily Human!

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The London newspaper, The Guardian, has a wonderful story several days ago about artificial intelligence, aka “AI.” The paper commissioned a very sophisticated computer, the GPT-3, to write an essay about computers and their power over life as we know it and as it might come to be.  They offered three “prompts” to give it guidance and then this inhuman “heart” wrote a beautiful, thoughtful, and even “human” essay which you should read.  It is very revealing about the human heart and mind, both of which are guided by certain “prompts” which are difficult to ascertain; and even those we do “ascertain” are not its essence.  This is because the heart is Infinite and can never be “plumbed” though human nature is wired to think it can, and that it has even accomplished this.

This dilemma is the Mystery of Life which gave rise to religion, in addition to other “art” forms.  That Infinite Dimension which we ARE is designed to be curious and this “curiosity” needs to be explored… though within limits; for, remember, “Curiosity killed the cat!”  This limit cautions us to remember we hold within us a “treasure” which is but in an “earthly vessel.”  But human reason does not like this limitation, an existential understanding that I am only learning each day, “with fear and trembling.”

The delightful, frightening, though wryly-inspiring article can be found in the following link–https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2020/sep/08/robot-wrote-this-article-gpt-3

Jerry Falwell, Jr. Was a Victim…of Sorts!

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Jerry Falwell Jr. fell victim to “christianizing.”  Being raised in conservative Christianity, with his father being a prominent preacher and eventual founder of the Moral Majority movement, he had no “choice.”  Spiritually-minded people of all persuasions often fail to realize that the wisdom given them by their tradition came through culture, one important dimension being language itself.  Furthermore, regardless of how noble the teachings of any tradition, these teachings come to us through this culture with its tremendous pressure. There is an hard-wired socio-cultural pressure to “sign-on” and fit into the group that one is born into and accept its central tenets without question.

Falwell, Jr. like myself got enculturated into his faith but has yet to find the courage and grace to wrench free of its grip to the point of finding “wiggle-room” so that the teachings could become less cultural and more personal; one could even say, “less institutional” and more personal.  Any spiritual teaching has to be “institutionalized” if it is to be passed on to future generations and there comes the rub; for, as this “institutional framework” evolves it creates positions for power to evolve and hungry young egos always realize that and see it as an opportunity.  As noted before, “c’est moi” as that was the direction early in my life though I only fancied myself as a “small fish” in a “small pond” compared with the larger pond that Falwell Jr. had available.

This is not a hit job on this hapless man who has been broadsided by reality.  If this “broad-siding” had not begun in my early 20’s and relentlessly gnawed away at my constitutional hypocrisy, I too would today be a fervent defender of my ego and passionate defender of Trump.  And the “gnawing away” continues as the Pauline “the flesh” never leaves us, for which I am grateful; for, it is lovely to be human and no longer to have to be “christian.”