Imagination and species survival

Welcome to the Asylum (excerpt)

“…it is only through the impractical, through that which can empower our imagination, that we will be rescued as a species.”

In William Shakespeare’s “The Tempest,” Prospero is stranded on an island where he becomes the undisputed lord and master. He enslaves the primitive “monster” Caliban. He employs the magical sources of power embodied in the spirit Ariel, who is of fire and air. The forces unleashed in the island’s wilderness, Shakespeare knew, could prompt us to good if we had the capacity for self-control and reverence. But it also could push us toward monstrous evil since there are few constraints to thwart plunder, rape, murder, greed and power. Later, Joseph Conrad, in his portraits of the outposts of empire, also would expose the same intoxication with barbarity.

The anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan, who in 1846 was “adopted” by the Seneca, one of the tribes belonging to the Iroquois confederation, wrote in “Ancient Society” about social evolution among American Indians. Marx noted approvingly, in his “Ethnological Notebooks,” Morgan’s insistence on the historical and social importance of “imagination, that great faculty so largely contributing to the elevation of mankind.” Imagination, as the Shakespearean scholar Harold C. Goddard pointed out, “is neither the language of nature nor the language of man, but both at once, the medium of communion between the two. … Imagination is the elemental speech in all senses, the first and the last, of primitive man and of the poets.”

All that concerns itself with beauty and truth, with those forces that have the power to transform us, are being steadily extinguished by our corporate state. Art. Education. Literature. Music. Theater. Dance. Poetry. Philosophy. Religion. Journalism. None of these disciplines are worthy in the corporate state of support or compensation. These are pursuits that, even in our universities, are condemned as impractical. But it is only through the impractical, through that which can empower our imagination, that we will be rescued as a species. The prosaic world of news events, the collection of scientific and factual data, stock market statistics and the sterile recording of deeds as history do not permit us to understand the elemental speech of imagination. We will never penetrate the mystery of creation, or the meaning of existence, if we do not recover this older language. Poetry shows a man his soul, Goddard wrote, “as a looking glass does his face.” And it is our souls that the culture of imperialism, business and technology seeks to crush. Walter Benjamin argued that capitalism is not only a formation “conditioned by religion,” but is an “essentially religious phenomenon,” albeit one that no longer seeks to connect humans with the mysterious forces of life. Capitalism, as Benjamin observed, called on human societies to embark on a ceaseless and futile quest for money and goods. This quest, he warned, perpetuates a culture dominated by guilt, a sense of inadequacy and self-loathing. It enslaves nearly all its adherents through wages, subservience to the commodity culture and debt peonage. The suffering visited on Native Americans, once Western expansion was complete, was soon endured by others, in Cuba, the Philippines, Nicaragua, the Dominican Republic, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. The final chapter of this sad experiment in human history will see us sacrificed as those on the outer reaches of empire were sacrificed. There is a kind of justice to this. We profited as a nation from this demented vision, we remained passive and silent when we should have denounced the crimes committed in our name, and now that the game is up we all go down together.

The rest of this essay can be found here.

Published on Monday, April 30, 2012 by TruthDig.com

Posted in Dhamma, General, Social Observations & Commentary | 1 Comment

Uncle Hickory

Uncle Hickory greets visitors who stroll up our drive, shades horses and humans on hot summer days, drops nuts for the squirrels and people, and watches over the entrance to this coulee. You can’t miss him if you walk up. He has been prominent in the original dream-vision that recognized this beautiful place and our home with it. Now, I check in with him regularly, especially when returning from a trip, and have entered a dialogue about balance, healing, and resilience.

Uncle Hickory’s prominence owes partly to his being in the middle of one of the few relatively flat parts of the valley, other than the bottoms flooded by rains and creek. He’s not too far from our entrance, nor too high up the slope, and has survived the old logging road that became our driveway. I wonder what he’s doing down here, while most of his brothers and sisters are up along the steeper parts of the slope or spread out back in the woods. Perhaps he’s a loner. Or precocious. Or a sentinel.

Uncle Hickory has lost branches to the electrical cooperative that has a small local line running beside him, from which we, too, draw power. The line dates back to WWII when copper was tight. Who was here first? Did he sprout beside the line or tolerate its imposition? Either way, he’s grown up beside it for many decades and suffered branches cut to maintain clearance. Further, trucks and tractors have rumbled over the logging road, compacting his northward roots, as have the cows that have grazed this land. Since we’ve arrived, delivery vehicles and occasional heavy equipment have abused his branches. He has sustained these wounds and seems to thrive. I feel great depth, strength, and resilience in him.

I hope, too, that he enjoys the Dhamma conversations, food sharing, and meditations where humans reveal our virtuous and convivial sides. It would be sweet if we bring more to him, and his coulee, than hurts and abuse.

Uncle Hickory’s scars – stubs that were once branches, chemicals in the air and soils, and living with electromagnetic radiation – remind me of my own. I carry many little artifacts of cuts and scrapes on hands, arms, and feet, as well as the abdominal scar where bits of bowel once dilated and ebbed within a little plastic pouch affixed to my belly. Within harbor emotional scars of growing up, of ideals violated, of loses, and of self-infliction. We all have such scars, hidden wounds, and currently open sores. We all live with modern industrial technology that tentacles the globe and pervades our bodies. Like Uncle Hickory, I believe, chemicals and electromagnetics, some very nasty, run through us. Can you feel them? Or does it take cancer, a growing epidemic among others, to make us aware? Through what sort of awareness does Uncle Hickory sense them?

There’s a strong push towards youth in our media-normed culture. Many of us long for pristine nature and health, pure water and air, uncontaminated food and soundscapes, beautiful vistas, and complete health and well-being. When such an aspiration takes root, happenings like cancer and depression separate us from what we’re supposed to be and create a level of ostracization, if not repugnance and rejection. When we identified with purity, wholeness, and absolute notions of health, we end up denying the scars and wounds that run through our lives. Which is our reality? The artificially enhanced stars of mainstream media and Disney movies, or the myriad forms of woundedness, such as, domestic violence, sexual abuse, emotional stuckness, cultural stagnation, economic oppression, racial profiling, homophobia, diseases of civilization, plastic food, love gone awry?

Uncle Hickory and I are having a conversation about this. It may last a long time, as such questions are not easily answered (remember the ents.) I’m clumsy in this kind of communication, tentative, groping, wondering if I’ll ever be sensitive enough, like Guan Yin hearing the cries of the world. I believe that Uncle Hickory is revealing that wounds and scars are as much of what we are as successes, talents, and accomplishments, and that they are an even more significant portion of our compassion and resilience. Life is brutal and beautiful. There is purity and pain. To grasp at just one side of the dynamic is to fantasize a chimera. When we hug and exchange kisses, we rub our scars, wrinkles, and flabby sections. Yet none of these get in the way of us standing tall in snow drifts or hosting families of birds or shading furry creatures.

Without wounds I would not feel compassion as much as I am able to do. Happiness and health did not teach me much empathy. Without hurts I wouldn’t need the love of others like I do. Though I still seek to be unconcocted by them, I don’t seek to escape or transcend them.

What strengths do we aspire to, to be without any wounds or to be resilient with woundedness? Is our healing in spite of the wounds, or to get rid of them, or through embracing them?

p.s. Just had quarterly CT-scan and blood work. No signs of returning lymphoma and some improvement in blood stuff, especially neutrophils and platelets. Looks like the bone marrow is doing better and immune system is stronger. The slow recovery continues.

Posted in Dhamma, Garden, Plants, & Ecology, General, SK's healing, Social Observations & Commentary | 8 Comments

Not Giving in to the Fear-Driven Life!

You're always welcome here!

Tony Judt writes of the importance of trust in a decent, healthy society, with examples such as: Trust in each other to pay our fair shares of taxes. Trust in honesty and fair play in the marketplace. Trust in competent police, postal workers, road crews, teachers, medical professionals, civil servants, and politicians. Can you imagine living out your life each day without the belief (trust) that countless somebodies are doing their jobs decently, obeying traffic laws, and the like? Horribly nihilistic, then, the bashing litanies that abuse all those humble lives, turning them into abstractions and objects of angst or political gain. (Ill Fares the Land, pp. 65 ff.)

Local examples of mistrust aren’t hard to find, often mired in prejudice. Yet, what kind of society to we create when whites don’t trust Latinos and vice versa? When Lutherans don’t trust Catholics and vice versa? When old-timers don’t trust newcomers and vice versa? When Liberals don’t trust Conservatives and vice versa? When rural folks don’t trust city people and vice versa? I’ll bet this is easy to see in our not-so-communal “communities.” And it’s obvious in national politics. Whatever happened to folks relying on neighbors?

We live in a land of difference, upheavel, and vastness, so the trust doesn’t come so easily as when we all looked the same or went to the same church or did the same kind of work. Current extreme economic inequalities make widespread mutual trust even more difficult. Does difficulty make the challenge unworthy or unnecessary?

How may we reweave the frayed strands of trust in our communities? In our society? This is a vitally important question if we are to avoid hunkering down in fearful partisanship, petty isolation, and materialist selfishness. This question challenges us to ask what qualities we seek in our lives and the kind of society we wish to live in. Further, it calls us to live according to the society we require, rather than the society we are stuck with. We must be worthy of the society we want and it worthy of us.

watching for turtles?

One key piece is learning to trust ourselves. The naive may feel they already do. Yet, many of us find ourselves vulnerable to fear mongering; we fail in trusting ourselves whenever we succumb to manufactured fear. Distrust in ourselves easily gets projected onto others and society. When we esteem what is most true and worthy in ourselves, the merchants of fear have no purchase.

Ideologies can get in the way of healthy self-confidence. Some forms of faith teach trust in external authorities in violation of our inner sense of truth. Many aspects of post-modernism are profoundly skeptical, which the nature of today’s media feeds. Lack of democracy in much of the business world, especially the big forms, limits trust to narrow bounds. So what does it take to trust ourselves outside such belief structures?

Early Buddhism speaks of ‘seeds of awakening’ (buddha-pija, which the Mahayana has elaborated into “Buddha-Nature”). In each of us we find potentials for intelligence, curiosity, tolerance, generosity, cooperation, creativity, steadfastness, compassion, and wisdom, to name some of the powerful virtues available to us all. As our practice discovers and nurtures these seeds, we naturally have legitimate bases for trust that don’t depend on the flimsiness of ego structures, whether individual or collective. Learning to trust these seeds and their maturation is a daily practice of healing and happiness that triumphs over cynicism and despair.

blossoming though frosts and storms

A deeper level of trust emerges as we learn to live with uncertainty, which is central to Buddhist practice. As we recognize the constructed and only provisionally dependable nature of externals, such as political parties and corporations, as well as of internals, such as emotions, beliefs, and opinions, we look for a deeper freedom. Recognizing the ubiquity of change, allows us to accept impermanence, which is a whole lot more certain than mere stuff. Such radical acceptance of uncertainty gifts a counter-intuitive freedom. We thus find ourselves in better shape to cope with all the bewildering changes and challenges facing us in the early 21st century.

Then, less afraid, we can trust other human beings more.

As we practice kindness and trust, we will find ways to contribute to thriving communities and build the foundations for a more Dhammic society, if that is what we want.

What better “security” is there?

 

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The Four Dhamma Buddies

kitty meditation

Last night, in Eau Claire, I gave the second talk in a short series on one of Ajahn Buddhadasa’s meditation teachings: The Four Dhamma Comrades.

The first talk has just been uploaded to the website:
http://www.liberationpark.org/audiox/anapana.htm#buddies

 

 

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New post alerts

Subscribe2, the alerts plug-in used with this blog, changed the default on whether alerts are sent with each new post. Consequently, you did not get a notification for recent posts, e.g., March 25, 22, 18 and 14.(Not sure when the change happened.)

If you missed any of these and want to catch up please back up from this post.

Best wishes, good practice!

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