Beginnings 2

Let us remain human in our actions and superhuman in our aspirations, let us balance forgiveness for flaws with steadfastness in standards, let us not be so vain as to think our standards are beyond reproach and yet let us not allow them to be so flimsy they can (and ought) to be transgressed regularly. "One swallow does not a summer make." True enough. Let us not, though, delude ourselves into ignoring the hope that a lone swallow brings in the midst of rainy springs. If you are a talker, may you listen; if you are a fighter, may you love; if you are a thinker, may you feel. Accept the possibilities that new birds bring without losing the integrity of your season-self.

July 12, 2008 - What is the distinguishing mark of the wise man compared to the unwise? He remains in control of himself, can apply his energy singularly. Does this mean that the sage does not feel? No, far from it. He merely keeps his emotions in perspective, sees them as essentially fleeting, and thus does not let them dominate his will (which has the potential to endure through longer periods).

What is it about the longer that warrants this preference over the shorter? The longer contains its own peculiar string of shorters. We cannot get through a lifetime without getting through all its moments. The sage tries to make his life his own by commandeering his moments as much as he can. At times this means willfully releasing his will to the demands of nature (for he realizes that in truth he too is a natural being); at other times it means walling himself up from nature, battening down the hatches, and doggedly applying himself to his task (chosen by him at his level of involvement while not being ultimately fabricated by him).

Why resist nature? Resistance contains its own trappings of nature. If a task is to be pursued by a man, it must be pursued by a body as well that roams in nature and takes order in a natural language. The sage learns the language of nature and trains himself to use it with his body so that he may experience success in his projects. A man can do nothing if his body is wholly unwilling, just as he can do nothing if his non-body is wholly unwilling (these states are both death).

July 18, 2008 - Trust is a sublime state. To trust someone is to see a fixed point where there is otherwise only motion. We find ourselves in a situation of trust in nearly every situation we share with another human being. Even in solitary moments we trust the validity of the reflections we make. We say that a certain event or project was a certain way, we hear someone report an emotion or make a recommendation. These sayings and hearings occur outside of certainty. Language inevitably leaves clippings on the ground as we divide up reality with it. Beyond accuracy, deception is possible (both conscious and semi-conscious). With such possibilities, to assent, to act with those statements incorporated into the nexus of beliefs that make rational actions possible, is a risk.

What are we to do when evil prevails over good? How is one supposed to react to the death of love, the eclipse of goodness, or the undermining of justice?

We may harden ourselves. We may say that the pain is not worth it. To attend the wake, see the shadow, or feel the dirt is too great a burden. We remove our interest from them, say goodbye to them as they have shown themselves capable of saying goodbye to us. "How dare you leave us?! You cannot leave me; I leave you."

We may soften ourselves. We may try to redeem the pain. We may place flowers, mourn the loss of light, and let ourselves be buried in part as well. The pain that Goodness feels (if it could/does) becomes our own pain. "How you must hurt, too! I will endure with you and pass with you."

Ossification brings us nearer to becoming agents of that which caused us to harden in the first place; liquidation brings us nearer to becoming agents of that which caused us to soften in the first place. In this way, we perpetuate our state of solidity as the cold brings water to freeze or boiling water brings ice to melt.

August 18, 2008 - One who does not understand himself, is sick whether he realizes it or not. If we cannot be honest with ourselves, honesty with others is at best accidental (if it occurs at all).

How are we dishonest with ourselves? Although there are many ways (e.g., about what we are, about what others are, about what the 'world' is like, etc.), they are united by their misuse of power. Instead of being open and submitting to reality, we manipulate reality into the scheme with desire.

What is problematic about the self-centered construction? It alienates us from being. We can no longer interact with what is around us or with the other areas of ourselves. It is as though we have lost ourselves in translation, from the language of truth to the language of false-creation. Like a person who swings at a piñata after being blindfolded and disoriented, a person (again whether realizing it or not) flounders in living.

How are we to avoid incorporating our rebellion against the truth of ourselves, of others, and the world at large? Firstly, we can try not to generate by- products by replacing the antagonism of creation with the openness of submission. When we allow the outside to speak to us, rather than dictating to it, we establish connection. Secondly, we can work to recognize where we tend to rebel the most. Perhaps it is in regards to an unsavory character trait, perhaps it is in regards to how we perceive other people treat us, perhaps it is in regards to our ability to successfully complete tasks in the face of an unconcerned world. When we are aware of the areas we resist most, we gain a keener sense of smell for the mixture of our own reality-as-we-want-it within reality-as-it-is we contain.

August 30, 2008 - Man needs to draw from without if there is not enough abundance from within. Man can grow fields within himself in order to nourish himself, but does the harvest yield a crop worth eating? Or, is life such that essential health is drawn from without?

Look to the child, the man, even the plant--all life is dependent in part on what is outside of itself, on what it appropriates. And yet what would the act of appropriation be without an appropriator? Nothing. Once established (birth) an individual always relies in part on self (his inner processes) as well as what is outside (his fodder). But the start of the individual--that is utter and total dependence. In truth, it is even less, for every creation of an individual is, when pertaining to life specifically, ex nihilo. At the end, there is a new something (an individual) where there was before a nothing. So, each individual is therefore most fundamentally a dependent.

If the individual is fundamentally dependent relative to the start of his existence, how do we use this in life? On what should we depend? Bodily, we look outside for health. What is the health of the conscious self? What is the conscious equivalent to satiety and how do we procure it? It is the sort of thing one experiences, it is a shade of color given to all waking experience. It is a sort of contentment or acceptance. At first, these attitudes appear wholly possible without any grasping from within towards the without. As we have seen, the individual cannot be the origin of all such nutritive substance. Peace is taken from without when the individual senses a certain appreciation from those around them. In this way, his peace seems to be merited. Although there will always be projects to pursue and ground to cover, the individual takes solace in the approval of those who are familiar with him and his character thus far.

The apex of approval is love. To be loved actively and wholly gives a person the most peace because it addresses the whole of him and by its activity perpetually prompts awareness of the acceptance.