March 04, 2014
parsley, sage, Kierkegaard and time
There is a well known series of words strung together by the philosopher/poet/social-critic Soren Kierkegaard, that I believe if one only glances at the surface of the edict, it is easy to misinis commonly misinterpreted when one only glances at the surface of the edict. If one can "misinterpret" philosophy, that is.
These are the words:
If you marry, you will regret it; if you do not marry, you will also regret it; if you marry or do not marry, you will regret both, whether you marry or do not marry, you will regret both; Laugh at the world’s follies, you will regret it, weep over them, you will also regret that; laugh at the world’s follies or weep over them, you will regret both; whether you laugh at the world’s follies or weep over them, you will regret both. Believe a woman, you will regret it, believe her not, you will also regret that; believe a woman or believe her not, you will regret both; whether you believe a woman or believe her not, you will regret both. Hang yourself, you will regret it; do not hang yourself, and you will also regret that; hang yourself or do not hang yourself, you will regret both; whether you hang yourself or do not hang yourself, you will regret both. This, gentlemen, is the sum and substance of all philosophy.
A moment of reflection: One of my few highly developed skills is the ability to put aside dislike for details in favor of the big picture. A good example is author J.R.R. Tolkien, who penned some of the most amazing stories, personal philosophies and even highly detailed creation myths. If you read his writing it becomes quite apparent that not only is he an amazing wordsmith, but he is INCREDIBLY misogynistic---like, off the charts. So much so, you can't help but wonder what might have happened to the poor guy! As a result, his writing is mainly focused on the forged bonds and riven relationships of men in all its different forms. The point, I don't pick up Tolkien for insight on subjects he himself is not interested in. His writing is good enough to stand on it's own and I am able to gain personal insight as well as an expanded world view through knowing it.
It appears, that we all have something to contribute to the whole--and anytime someone gets furious because a single author's or artist's or musician's inability to embrace all perspectives and knowledge equaly, I get bored. I know how to temper my response to a body of work based on what information I have. (i.e. Woody Allen went from being a brilliant movie director to a disgusting little man pretty quickly, and Caravaggio, one of my favorite painters and bar-room murderer of men--is A-ok with me!)
I first heard these words a long time ago watching some random Icelandic movie that I don't recall. Someone was sitting in a bookstore, late at night, listening to a recording of someone reading Kierkegaard. The movie was in Icelandic but the recording was in English. I had never heard this philosophic articulation before. Well, let me rephrase that; I had never heard what I thought was Kierkegaard's "take" on this idea--or at least what I thought the idea was at the time.
What I thought was being expressed here (and what I find a lot of people think) is that no matter what choice you make in this life; you will regret it. It seems rather straight forward. If you do this, you'll regret it, if you do that you'll regret it. Kind of a "get the fuck over it and make a decision"--it doesn't matter which one. Either human nature imposes dissatisfaction onto anything or dissatisfaction is inherent in the universe, and no choice so specific to YOU matters at all in terms of your personal fulfillment.
It might take a few entries for me to successfully tie this all together. Give me a chance!
It appears, that we all have something to contribute to the whole--and anytime someone gets furious because a single author's or artist's or musician's inability to embrace all perspectives and knowledge equaly, I get bored. I know how to temper my response to a body of work based on what information I have. (i.e. Woody Allen went from being a brilliant movie director to a disgusting little man pretty quickly, and Caravaggio, one of my favorite painters and bar-room murderer of men--is A-ok with me!)
I first heard these words a long time ago watching some random Icelandic movie that I don't recall. Someone was sitting in a bookstore, late at night, listening to a recording of someone reading Kierkegaard. The movie was in Icelandic but the recording was in English. I had never heard this philosophic articulation before. Well, let me rephrase that; I had never heard what I thought was Kierkegaard's "take" on this idea--or at least what I thought the idea was at the time.
What I thought was being expressed here (and what I find a lot of people think) is that no matter what choice you make in this life; you will regret it. It seems rather straight forward. If you do this, you'll regret it, if you do that you'll regret it. Kind of a "get the fuck over it and make a decision"--it doesn't matter which one. Either human nature imposes dissatisfaction onto anything or dissatisfaction is inherent in the universe, and no choice so specific to YOU matters at all in terms of your personal fulfillment.
It might take a few entries for me to successfully tie this all together. Give me a chance!
March 21, 2014
Adaptation vs Conformity
Why isn't this about "No matter what choice I make, I will be unhappy"? Why is this not about "People always long for what they don't have, or didn't choose"? Well, I don't know why, but I can tell you what happened to me that led me to understand this differently.
I used to have a dog. I did not want the dog but the dog came into my life and I went with it. ALmost everyday I would walk her in a nearby state park. It was the wilds contained. You almost felt like you could get lost in there, but it was small enough that eventually you would come to a road. Almost every day, tramping this trail that would move and shift with the seasons--leaves/no leaves, mud/no mud, flowers/no flowers, new growth/old growth. The trail itself had to change to accommodate fallen trees, giant mud holes, errant branches...It all seemed very appropriate metaphorically for a life hell-bent on adaptation but not conformity.
One day I was tramping, as usual through the northwest forest, contemplating things as I was apt to do. On this particular day I was brooding over the loss of Eden. Where did the Garden go? Did it simply never exist in the first place? Or had it melted into some alternative dimension? It was early spring so there was a lot of new growth including big spongey mats and hemispheres of brightly colored moss growing off of trees and fallen branches. I recalled a science fiction story I had read at some point in my life about some time travelers. (I cannot recall the author but I have a feeling it is not all that obscure.) These time travelers, when time traveling, discovered that when they went into the past, everything was really small and, conversely, when they went into the future, everything was very large. This was due to the universe being in a constant state of expansion.
Conceptually, I think this rocks.
So, somewhere in the middle of the tramping it occurred to me if I applied this to the missing Garden of Eden, that would simple mean that it was still here, but shrunken. I stopped and looked around me in the forest as if I was suddenly going to spot a tiny Garden of Eden waiting to be discovered (which, when you think about it, is probably the most accurate observation in this whole writing--but that is off topic) Now (my brain whirred and clunked) if this were true, then the Garden would be REALLY small, because it comes so close to the "beginning" of pre-observed period of time--meaning it would be about as small as could be. I continued walking, at the whining request of my dog, as a contemplating this further.
(I know this whole thing kind of sounds ridiculous, and even pretentious--"As I strolled the ancient woods I contemplated the meaning of the universe and time as a human construct when suddenly I was struck with an epiphany..." I am almost as surprised as you might be that this was how I spent my free time. But, looking back, it is undeniable. This is what I did. Clearly, this is what I still do. So, there it is.)
As I strolled the semi-ancient woods contemplating the fate of Eden, I was suddenly struck with what felt like an epiphany. The sunlight was filtering through the forest canopy and hitting various spots and one spot got all bright and glowy because it was spotlighting one of those semi-hemespheric bright green and yellow clumps of moss.
I used to have a dog. I did not want the dog but the dog came into my life and I went with it. ALmost everyday I would walk her in a nearby state park. It was the wilds contained. You almost felt like you could get lost in there, but it was small enough that eventually you would come to a road. Almost every day, tramping this trail that would move and shift with the seasons--leaves/no leaves, mud/no mud, flowers/no flowers, new growth/old growth. The trail itself had to change to accommodate fallen trees, giant mud holes, errant branches...It all seemed very appropriate metaphorically for a life hell-bent on adaptation but not conformity.
One day I was tramping, as usual through the northwest forest, contemplating things as I was apt to do. On this particular day I was brooding over the loss of Eden. Where did the Garden go? Did it simply never exist in the first place? Or had it melted into some alternative dimension? It was early spring so there was a lot of new growth including big spongey mats and hemispheres of brightly colored moss growing off of trees and fallen branches. I recalled a science fiction story I had read at some point in my life about some time travelers. (I cannot recall the author but I have a feeling it is not all that obscure.) These time travelers, when time traveling, discovered that when they went into the past, everything was really small and, conversely, when they went into the future, everything was very large. This was due to the universe being in a constant state of expansion.
Conceptually, I think this rocks.
So, somewhere in the middle of the tramping it occurred to me if I applied this to the missing Garden of Eden, that would simple mean that it was still here, but shrunken. I stopped and looked around me in the forest as if I was suddenly going to spot a tiny Garden of Eden waiting to be discovered (which, when you think about it, is probably the most accurate observation in this whole writing--but that is off topic) Now (my brain whirred and clunked) if this were true, then the Garden would be REALLY small, because it comes so close to the "beginning" of pre-observed period of time--meaning it would be about as small as could be. I continued walking, at the whining request of my dog, as a contemplating this further.
(I know this whole thing kind of sounds ridiculous, and even pretentious--"As I strolled the ancient woods I contemplated the meaning of the universe and time as a human construct when suddenly I was struck with an epiphany..." I am almost as surprised as you might be that this was how I spent my free time. But, looking back, it is undeniable. This is what I did. Clearly, this is what I still do. So, there it is.)
As I strolled the semi-ancient woods contemplating the fate of Eden, I was suddenly struck with what felt like an epiphany. The sunlight was filtering through the forest canopy and hitting various spots and one spot got all bright and glowy because it was spotlighting one of those semi-hemespheric bright green and yellow clumps of moss.
A instantly grew suspicious and stopped walking. Picture it if you can: Me squinting my eyes and pursing my lips suspiciously at a glowing clump of Moss Green moss. (The painters out there will know what I'm talking about.) I moved in for a better view. Yep, that was moss alright. I got right up close and peeked into its little furry depths. I squinted even more, assuming that this might transform my normal, human, vision into something way more impressive.
Yep, I could see it.
Yep, I could see it.
Well, I couldn't literally see anything (not my gift AT ALL) but I could "see" that the Garden had shrunken away into this vacant lot of Paradise, shrouded and microcosm-ed until its very existence has become nothing but a myth. That's some serious hiding. But, there it was all the same.
Somehow, this made me feel good. Like the Garden wasn't actually gone--in fact it was right here! In a clump of moss...
I tried to picture the Garden of Eden in a clump of moss. Was I making decisions about stuff? Like, was I deciding the Garden was in this clump of moss, specifically? In all moss, everywhere? It would be weird if it was only in my moss. Very Western of me....No, it definitely has to be everywhere for everybody all the time*.
Somehow, this made me feel good. Like the Garden wasn't actually gone--in fact it was right here! In a clump of moss...
I tried to picture the Garden of Eden in a clump of moss. Was I making decisions about stuff? Like, was I deciding the Garden was in this clump of moss, specifically? In all moss, everywhere? It would be weird if it was only in my moss. Very Western of me....No, it definitely has to be everywhere for everybody all the time*.
Faux Illuminated manuscript of the lost garden of eden, moss style
the transitive property
So, back on track.
I continued walking, now pondering TIME and space, etc. Not ten feet from where I had discovered the lost Garden of Eden, I found myself sunken in the ground in what I thought was a mud "puddle" but turned out to be a mud "hole." Crap. I had both feet immersed a couple of inches in mud. Not a big deal--I walked this path almost everyday--but inconvenient.
Now, all sloppy puns aside, this is where the whole experience gets murky. In that moment of being in the mud I was suddenly taken with an idea about time. Or, rather, "Time." Recently, I had been trying to wrap my brain around the concept that all points are one point. That the idea of the past the present and the future , being linear and most likely a human construct (there are no straight lines in nature) are probably false. If this were true than the past present and future were essentially all occurring at the same time, but my limited awareness perceives only one state at a time. I was starting to believe that this was the source of "suffering" (in a philosophical sense) and the feelings of disconnection that humans typically experience on this existential plane. Perceiving that we only occupy one dimension at a time perhaps brings a fractured perception of what we think of as reality. The whole idea of a hologram could probably be tied in here somewhere, but I couldn't explain it--I don't understand it well enough any more than to intuit that it might apply here. But suddenly, without question I felt I had logistical proof that all things were happing at one time only. Now. "Now" being this single point in all dimensions, One, Two, Three, Four, et al.
I honestly do not possess the necessary descriptive powers to really convey the thought process that got me to this understanding. I just know that suddenly I "got" something I hadn't "got" a moment before.
I know this also sounds obnoxious--but I am actually eventually going to make a point and, I am sorry to say--all this stuff really happened. I also am not postulating that I am "right" in any sense---that is not really what this is about. it is about a single human experience that may reflect more or less of that one person.
I leave the park with my newfound knowledge--excited and hyped up. Again, let me reiterate---I actually had a way of explaining it to myself: some sort of transitive property thing: If A=B and B=C...then….A=C….?
I went to my friend Cathy's farm for dinner that night. I was all excited. "Guess what? Guess what? Guess what?!" SHe politely asked, "What?" and I told her.
If A equals B and B equals C then……and I trailed off.
She thoughtfully supplied, "But that would mean A equals C and that can't be right. That would mean the past, present and future would all be occurring at the same time."
I nodded all excited, "Right! Right? Right!"
I rode this high for a while and then eventually left it behind. I am sure I wrote about it as I was journalling like crazy at that time. For some reason, this small detail is important: about a month later, I saw Cathy at work. She asked me about "that thing when the past, present and future were all occurring at the same time."
I asked, "What about it?"
She asked, "Could you explain it to me again? I can't remember how it worked."
I said, "Sure." and I did. If A equals B and B equals C then….A….equals…..C….
*And if your geography didn't produce moss, it was in whatever you had--like ice or fig leaves--only small. This wasn't a "moss-centric" philosophy.