Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind.
Withering my intuition, missing opportunities and I must
Feed my will to feel my moment drawing way outside the lines.
("Lateralus", T00l, Lateralus)
I've been over-analyzing the crap out of things for the last handful of months, and it's left me a borderline basket-case. One of my MySpace "friends" recently said something about how he enjoys cycling because he "loves to reduce life to a series of actions." Good plan. I'm gonna go ride my bike, too. I may be gone for a while, so... See ya!
April 22, 2007
April 1, 2007
Locomotion as a form of meditation
I don't consume alcohol, "illegal" substances, or cigarettes. I do get a kick out of the ocassional hit of nitrous oxide at the dentist's office, I like my teas caffeinated, and I enjoy a daily piece or two of fine dark chocolate, but otherwise I'm fairly abstinent. Past experience indicates that I could probably develop an addiction to sex, but current lifestyle choices have caused me to abstain from that, too. The one and only craving I fully indulge is an addiction to fast driving.
I'm fortunate to live in a region with some pretty good roads for driving at speed, somewhat close to areas of transition between suburban and rural. That, combined with the rolling hills of the piedmont region, means that curvy, relatively low-traffic country roads are in easy access. When I first moved to this locale back in my mid-20's, I began to explore just to familiarize myself with the area. As I started to discover the back-country roads nearby, I quickly realized how much fun they could be. I also learned that driving fast gave me an unexpected respite from the cyclothymic depression I had been sunk in for a handful of years. When I found myself sitting agitated and restless in my apartment in the evening, I'd grab my keys and head out for a drive. To this day, nothing calms my nerves and relaxes me like pushing the speedometer on an open road.
The thing about driving is the focus it requires. When you drive fast on country roads, you quickly learn that you have to maintain awareness and a constant anticipation that something (an animal, a pedestrian, another car) could be in the middle of the road as you crest that next hill or swing around that upcoming curve. The focus required pushes all other thoughts out of your head and leaves you in a very Zen-like state. I've intentionally described this state as "focused" and not "concentrated". Concentration implies a tunnel-visioned rigidity and that's sure to lead to a crash. What's necessary to drive fast is a relaxed, wide-spread, yet focused, awareness. Peripheral vision is key, as is being relaxed enough to respond instead of react. Chris Cornell is apparently also a speed-freak and describes it similarly:
"Speed is true escapism. When you're going really fast you have no opportunity to think about anything else in your life. Stuff that might bug you gets forced out of your brain. When I want to clear out my mind, I'll usually go driving late at night on roads where I know there are no police..."
My chiropractor (Dr. Joe) and I have discussed this. Dr. Joe is a motorcycle afficionado, specifically racing bikes. He and his buddies frequent many of the same roads I do, and several of my chiro appointments have ended with us comparing notes on current road conditions, favorite curves, etc. In one of these conversations, Dr. Joe described the exhilaration of of entering a curve and feeling that point when it's time to accelerate to sling your vehicle around the apex and out the other side. I knew exactly what he was talking about. Whether it's a car or a motorcycle, there's a thrill in feeling that no-mind, totally instinctual one-ness with vehicle and pavement.
Another great description of driving fast that mirror my sentiments is from a January 1999 National Geographic article about T.E. Lawrence ("Lawrence of Arabia"). Lawrence was apparently a motorcycle buff and spent the years of his retirement tearing around the English country-side on a pretty cool-looking Brough Superior SS1000, before an unfortunately fatal crash on that same bike. The Nat'l Geo writer had the opportunity of driving the Brough:
"...blasting down the narrow roads of Dorset that day, I did get a taste of what Lawrence found on this bike at the end. It was a kind of surrender, I think-- a speed-induced state of bliss in which things go empty and white, as they sometimes do in the desert, and where... struggle might be briefly forgotten, or somehow resolved, and penance seems no longer necessary."
To a lesser degree, my bicycle induces this same bliss. As I mentioned in another recent post, I'm no speed-demon on the bike. I just don't have the watts for it (yet...?). I've gone as fast as 30mph downhill, but I slow down like a granny going into turns. And I'm just not powerful enough for sustained speed on a straightaway. But there's a similar relaxed focus required in cycling. To maintain a steady cadence on flats or rolling hills demands attention to breathing, gearing, pedal stroke, and any upcoming obstacles that will affect that ideal combination of rpm/mph. Obviously, there's a necessary amount of knowledge of these various elements required, but at a certain point that knowledge becomes muscle-memory and thought exits the equation. Again, it's body, machine and surface congealing into a harmonious state of mindful-yet-mindless freedom from care.
Getting back to the car: Most people would probably not consider me to be a "good" driver, but I'd like to think of myself as at least a skillful one. Yes, I'm aggressive behind the wheel, but I honestly believe that I might be a tad more aware and attentive than the average cell-phone afflicted motorist. I try to be realistic, though. I tend to attribute my lack of accidents (beyond a handful of weather-related incidents in my early 20's) to a smidgen of skill in handling the car, a teensy bit to my awareness of what's going on and what could happen at any moment around me, and a whole lot to just plain dumb luck. Of course, now that I've written those words, I'll probably go out tomorrow and have a tremendous wreck. Unless it leaves me maimed or dead, though, it probably wouldn't be enough to curb my addiction.
Anyone know of a local chapter of Speed-Demon's Anonymous...?
I'm fortunate to live in a region with some pretty good roads for driving at speed, somewhat close to areas of transition between suburban and rural. That, combined with the rolling hills of the piedmont region, means that curvy, relatively low-traffic country roads are in easy access. When I first moved to this locale back in my mid-20's, I began to explore just to familiarize myself with the area. As I started to discover the back-country roads nearby, I quickly realized how much fun they could be. I also learned that driving fast gave me an unexpected respite from the cyclothymic depression I had been sunk in for a handful of years. When I found myself sitting agitated and restless in my apartment in the evening, I'd grab my keys and head out for a drive. To this day, nothing calms my nerves and relaxes me like pushing the speedometer on an open road.
The thing about driving is the focus it requires. When you drive fast on country roads, you quickly learn that you have to maintain awareness and a constant anticipation that something (an animal, a pedestrian, another car) could be in the middle of the road as you crest that next hill or swing around that upcoming curve. The focus required pushes all other thoughts out of your head and leaves you in a very Zen-like state. I've intentionally described this state as "focused" and not "concentrated". Concentration implies a tunnel-visioned rigidity and that's sure to lead to a crash. What's necessary to drive fast is a relaxed, wide-spread, yet focused, awareness. Peripheral vision is key, as is being relaxed enough to respond instead of react. Chris Cornell is apparently also a speed-freak and describes it similarly:
My chiropractor (Dr. Joe) and I have discussed this. Dr. Joe is a motorcycle afficionado, specifically racing bikes. He and his buddies frequent many of the same roads I do, and several of my chiro appointments have ended with us comparing notes on current road conditions, favorite curves, etc. In one of these conversations, Dr. Joe described the exhilaration of of entering a curve and feeling that point when it's time to accelerate to sling your vehicle around the apex and out the other side. I knew exactly what he was talking about. Whether it's a car or a motorcycle, there's a thrill in feeling that no-mind, totally instinctual one-ness with vehicle and pavement.
Another great description of driving fast that mirror my sentiments is from a January 1999 National Geographic article about T.E. Lawrence ("Lawrence of Arabia"). Lawrence was apparently a motorcycle buff and spent the years of his retirement tearing around the English country-side on a pretty cool-looking Brough Superior SS1000, before an unfortunately fatal crash on that same bike. The Nat'l Geo writer had the opportunity of driving the Brough:
To a lesser degree, my bicycle induces this same bliss. As I mentioned in another recent post, I'm no speed-demon on the bike. I just don't have the watts for it (yet...?). I've gone as fast as 30mph downhill, but I slow down like a granny going into turns. And I'm just not powerful enough for sustained speed on a straightaway. But there's a similar relaxed focus required in cycling. To maintain a steady cadence on flats or rolling hills demands attention to breathing, gearing, pedal stroke, and any upcoming obstacles that will affect that ideal combination of rpm/mph. Obviously, there's a necessary amount of knowledge of these various elements required, but at a certain point that knowledge becomes muscle-memory and thought exits the equation. Again, it's body, machine and surface congealing into a harmonious state of mindful-yet-mindless freedom from care.
Getting back to the car: Most people would probably not consider me to be a "good" driver, but I'd like to think of myself as at least a skillful one. Yes, I'm aggressive behind the wheel, but I honestly believe that I might be a tad more aware and attentive than the average cell-phone afflicted motorist. I try to be realistic, though. I tend to attribute my lack of accidents (beyond a handful of weather-related incidents in my early 20's) to a smidgen of skill in handling the car, a teensy bit to my awareness of what's going on and what could happen at any moment around me, and a whole lot to just plain dumb luck. Of course, now that I've written those words, I'll probably go out tomorrow and have a tremendous wreck. Unless it leaves me maimed or dead, though, it probably wouldn't be enough to curb my addiction.
Anyone know of a local chapter of Speed-Demon's Anonymous...?
March 14, 2007
Time to talk about my bike
No self-serving philosophical ramblings today, sorry. Just some self-serving rambling about cycling.
According to my 2006 log at BikeJournal.com, by this time last year I had already been out for one ride. I'm not necessarily a "serious" rider (my bike log also shows that I only got in a bit more than 1,000 miles last year), but I am seriously passionate about my bike. It's not an expensive one (2006 Specialized Tri-Cross Sport) and though I've customized the components a tad, it's not been with anything top-of-the-line. The bike is, as I recently described it on a cycling forum, my partner in exploration and adventure. I'm not the greatest rider (again, my BikeJournal log attests to this), but I'm hooked on the endorphin-high I get from pedaling.
Last year, thanks to a winter that began more mildly than it ended, I rode until mid-December. By that time, it finally started to get too cold and I was beginning to miss getting out in the woods for hiking, so I figured I'd stable the pony until winter ended. As things turned out, I didn't do much hiking, either. I think I wrote back in January or so that I was spending time in tea and coffee shops instead, going through an "introspective, analytic period". Who the heck was I kidding? I've just been a freaking lazy bum ths winter. I was doing pretty well until Christmas, managing to keep a regular routine of indoor exercise going after the riding stopped. Then the holidays hit. Then we had inventory at work in January, which turned out to be stressful enough to cause a muscle spasm in my right trapezius muscle (where the shoulder meets the base of the neck). The spasm led me to finding a great chiropractor (Dr. Joe. I'll have to write about him some time. He likes to ride motorcycles fast 
And just as the shoulder was getting back to normal at the beginning of this month, I got sick (see last week's scatological post). I was so sick that the doctor advised me not to fly to Florida for a business trip/family visit. He literally said "If you subject yourself to the cabin pressure in a plane while you have gastroenteritis, it could cause your colon to expand and rupture and there is a chance you could die." I chose to take his advice. At this point my stomach's back to normal, but the mild dizzy spells are sticking with me. And, on top of that, the east coast was slapped with one last snow storm, just two days after we had 75° and sunny skies. The day it was 75° was my first day back at work from being sick and I walked around the store whining that "If only I weren't sick, I could be out riding my bike!" My boss was quick to remind me that if I weren't sick then I'd have been in Florida on the business trip that he paid for. What he doesn't understand, though, is that if I were well and in Florida, I'd still be walking around whining "If only I were at home, I could be out riding my bike!"
I broke out of the sloth slump for a short hike today through the snow at Yankauer Nature Preserve, which is located near the town of Scrabble, WV, about 15 minutes from Shep'town. Nice little nature preserve with an overlook along a cliff over the Potomac, across the river from the Big Slackwater area of the C&O Canal. When I've ridden my bike along the C&O towpath up to Big Slackwater in the summer, the parking lot has always been packed. It was strange to see it baldly empty on such a gorgeously sunny day. Gazing across the river at the towpath, I couldn't help but think "If only it were warmer, I could be out riding my bike!"
A new MySpace "friend" who's also into biking has inspired me to try again to read some Ralph Waldo Emerson. Good choice for this time of year. This coming Wednesday, March 21, is the vernal equinox and the first day of spring. Here are a few appropriate words from Ralph:
Yeah, I'll save you the trouble...
Maugre:
prep.
Archaic.
Notwithstanding; in spite of.
March 11, 2007
Unwholesome states of stomach and mind
Warning: This post will include a somewhat graphic discussion of my bodily discharge. If you're not into scatological humor, you won't want to read beyond a certain point.
I recently wrote on anger and how ineffectively I handle my own. As I said in that post, I know of methods, mostly Buddhist, to deal with negative emotions, but I don't yet have the discipline to catch myself before those emotions get blown out of proportion (notice the hopeful quality of the word "yet" in that sentence). I've tried once or twice to begin a sitting meditation practice, but I can't seem to commit to it. Instead, I read Buddhist writings and hope that the teachings will sink in that way. So, in the latest issue of Tricycle magazine (Winter 2006), I found an article titled "Changing Your Mind: Six steps for transforming unwholesome mind states." I've read about unwholesome mind states before. I understand how they work, and that they are, ultimately, delusions constructed by our own grasping and aversion. When I'm able to stop myself and think before I react, I'm able to shake loose those delusions. What I need is to find that space between stimulus and habitual response.
Anyway, the article made me think of one of the women I work with. This particular person is someone I click with, with whom I have a similar background and some vaguely similar interests. We talk at length about situations at work and how to deal with them. I've loaned her the Dalai Lama's Ethics for the New Millenium and we've discussed human interaction from the Buddhist perspective. We trade rants over things that piss us off. In addition to the occasional rant, though, she has a tendency to feed the things that annoy her, looking for examples and not letting go of things. When I rant to her, I usually catch myself at some point and comment that I'm being unskillful and need to let go of the situation. Her response is, invariably, that it's ok, that we need to rant instead of letting things build up inside. As much for my own benefit as hers, I usually reply by explaining the difference between ranting as a form of release, and just plain letting go. I think I need to suggest that she read this article from Tricycle. I'm going to quote at length (bolding is mine for emphasis):
The historical Buddha Shakyamuni made a big deal of the distinction between wholesome and unwholesome states of mind. Most religious and philosophical traditions probably share this point of view to some extent, but the Buddha was unique in offering a detailed way of understanding how and why the mind manifests as it does in any given moment. There are patterns of cause and effect that can be seen in experience and traced over time to explain the dynamics at work shaping each moment of consciousness. The word for this is karma, and it does not mean "fate."
Moreover, the Buddha offered a simple and universal method for transforming mind stated from unwholesome to wholesome. This is important because, as the very first verse of the Dhammapada says, we become what we think. Every thought, emotion, intention, attitude, and aspiration shapes how ensuing experience will unfold. This means that every single moment of consciousness is a moment of practice, whether we like it or not. We are practicing to become ourselves. The critical question, really, is just how much we want to participate in the process.
As I understand his teachings, the Buddha was expounding what we might call a post-Copernican revolution. The world really does revolve around us, insofar as our mind is the instrument for the local construction of meaning. Left unattended, the mind will tend to organize around greed, hatred, and delusion, and will create unwholesome states that "obstruct wisdom and lead away from awakening" (Majjhima Nikaya 19). The solution to the problem, at least according to the earliest strata of Buddhist tradition, is to learn the healthy skill of transforming such mind states.
The author of the article, Andrew Olendzki, then goes on to outline the six steps of transformation as laid out in the Anumana Sutta. Again, these steps are concepts I've read about before, and that I attempt (poorly) to practice. But the points Mr. Olendzki makes leading up to them sum up very well what I've been trying to get across to my work compatriot. What we choose to think, what we choose to brood over, shapes the state of our mind. As the cliché goes, attitude is everything, and our thoughts are what create our attitude. So when I get annoyed repeatedly over those silly, uncaring salespeople downstairs who can't process their sales transactions correctly, leaving me stuck fixing their mistakes, I need to be very careful to not let those thoughts coalesce into an attitude towards those salespeople. Unfortunately, it's too late. I've spent the past several months brooding and building up seriously unwholesome thoughts towards our sales staff. Yes, I do believe that they take us, the administrative staff, for granted. But that doesn't mean I have to respond with seething resentment that spills out and poisons the attitudes of everyone else in the office. And, according to Mr. Olendzki, ranting about it with my office mates is how that poison is spread: "Accepting what is unwholesome out of attachment, or acting it out in an attempt to purge it, will just strengthen that quality of mind… Abandoning involves seeing it for what it is, recognizing the conditions that contribute to clinging to it, and gently releasing one's hold on the unwholesome quality, one moment at a time." Seems easy, huh? I need to tape that onto the wall over my desk. And then, of course, I'd need to read it, too...
So, now we come to the scatological portion of today's musings. Fun word, isn't it? Scatological. I love it when big words are used to describe something incredibly mundane, even gross. So, anyway, if you're easily grossed out, stop reading right now and hope that I don't make a habit of this.
I'm not sure why I feel the need to talk about this, except that, as with everything else, I've tried to find a lesson in it. I got sick last week. Dizzy spells, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea. No fever, though, so I wasn't sure what was going on. When it got to the point that I was having trouble walking across the room, I called the doctor. They said it sounded as if I was dehydrated and they recommended a trip to the ER for intravenous fluids. So, as there was no way I was gonna drive in that state, I called a cab and went. The diagnosis ended up being gastroenteritis, which is what contributed to the severe dehydration. I'm still partially on a fluid diet (broth, Jell-O, etc), though I am cheating a bit. I want solid food, dammit. I'm not going to regain strength on broth alone, no matter how my gut rebels. The really fun part of this, though, has been that my doctor wants stool samples so he can determine whether the condition is viral or bacterial.
You haven't truly lived until you've had to collect your own stool samples. They don't do it at the lab. No, the lab gives you however many little vials the doctor has requested, partially filled with various liquid chemicals. You then get to go home and poop into a clean, dry container. Using the teeny-tiny little scoop included with the vial, you then must fill the vial to a certain level with your poop, stir it a bit, then (tightly!) close the lid and shake to mix your poop with the liquid chemical. It's a perverse little science experiment that would have your average 7-year-old howling with laughter. I kept feeling like I was in one of T00l's early videos, except that my bathroom is too brightly lit to have the right atmosphere. And I feel sorry for the poor lab tech who has to analyze my concoction.
And the lesson? Well, scooping your own poop is a great way to shed delusions. It's humbling, and the absurdity of it really helps to put other things into perspective. And the next time I'm accused of thinking my shit don't stink, I can reply, "Well, as a matter of fact, I happen to know very well that my shit stinks somethin' awful!"
Time to go have tea.
I recently wrote on anger and how ineffectively I handle my own. As I said in that post, I know of methods, mostly Buddhist, to deal with negative emotions, but I don't yet have the discipline to catch myself before those emotions get blown out of proportion (notice the hopeful quality of the word "yet" in that sentence). I've tried once or twice to begin a sitting meditation practice, but I can't seem to commit to it. Instead, I read Buddhist writings and hope that the teachings will sink in that way. So, in the latest issue of Tricycle magazine (Winter 2006), I found an article titled "Changing Your Mind: Six steps for transforming unwholesome mind states." I've read about unwholesome mind states before. I understand how they work, and that they are, ultimately, delusions constructed by our own grasping and aversion. When I'm able to stop myself and think before I react, I'm able to shake loose those delusions. What I need is to find that space between stimulus and habitual response.
Anyway, the article made me think of one of the women I work with. This particular person is someone I click with, with whom I have a similar background and some vaguely similar interests. We talk at length about situations at work and how to deal with them. I've loaned her the Dalai Lama's Ethics for the New Millenium and we've discussed human interaction from the Buddhist perspective. We trade rants over things that piss us off. In addition to the occasional rant, though, she has a tendency to feed the things that annoy her, looking for examples and not letting go of things. When I rant to her, I usually catch myself at some point and comment that I'm being unskillful and need to let go of the situation. Her response is, invariably, that it's ok, that we need to rant instead of letting things build up inside. As much for my own benefit as hers, I usually reply by explaining the difference between ranting as a form of release, and just plain letting go. I think I need to suggest that she read this article from Tricycle. I'm going to quote at length (bolding is mine for emphasis):
Moreover, the Buddha offered a simple and universal method for transforming mind stated from unwholesome to wholesome. This is important because, as the very first verse of the Dhammapada says, we become what we think. Every thought, emotion, intention, attitude, and aspiration shapes how ensuing experience will unfold. This means that every single moment of consciousness is a moment of practice, whether we like it or not. We are practicing to become ourselves. The critical question, really, is just how much we want to participate in the process.
As I understand his teachings, the Buddha was expounding what we might call a post-Copernican revolution. The world really does revolve around us, insofar as our mind is the instrument for the local construction of meaning. Left unattended, the mind will tend to organize around greed, hatred, and delusion, and will create unwholesome states that "obstruct wisdom and lead away from awakening" (Majjhima Nikaya 19). The solution to the problem, at least according to the earliest strata of Buddhist tradition, is to learn the healthy skill of transforming such mind states.
The author of the article, Andrew Olendzki, then goes on to outline the six steps of transformation as laid out in the Anumana Sutta. Again, these steps are concepts I've read about before, and that I attempt (poorly) to practice. But the points Mr. Olendzki makes leading up to them sum up very well what I've been trying to get across to my work compatriot. What we choose to think, what we choose to brood over, shapes the state of our mind. As the cliché goes, attitude is everything, and our thoughts are what create our attitude. So when I get annoyed repeatedly over those silly, uncaring salespeople downstairs who can't process their sales transactions correctly, leaving me stuck fixing their mistakes, I need to be very careful to not let those thoughts coalesce into an attitude towards those salespeople. Unfortunately, it's too late. I've spent the past several months brooding and building up seriously unwholesome thoughts towards our sales staff. Yes, I do believe that they take us, the administrative staff, for granted. But that doesn't mean I have to respond with seething resentment that spills out and poisons the attitudes of everyone else in the office. And, according to Mr. Olendzki, ranting about it with my office mates is how that poison is spread: "Accepting what is unwholesome out of attachment, or acting it out in an attempt to purge it, will just strengthen that quality of mind… Abandoning involves seeing it for what it is, recognizing the conditions that contribute to clinging to it, and gently releasing one's hold on the unwholesome quality, one moment at a time." Seems easy, huh? I need to tape that onto the wall over my desk. And then, of course, I'd need to read it, too...
So, now we come to the scatological portion of today's musings. Fun word, isn't it? Scatological. I love it when big words are used to describe something incredibly mundane, even gross. So, anyway, if you're easily grossed out, stop reading right now and hope that I don't make a habit of this.
I'm not sure why I feel the need to talk about this, except that, as with everything else, I've tried to find a lesson in it. I got sick last week. Dizzy spells, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea. No fever, though, so I wasn't sure what was going on. When it got to the point that I was having trouble walking across the room, I called the doctor. They said it sounded as if I was dehydrated and they recommended a trip to the ER for intravenous fluids. So, as there was no way I was gonna drive in that state, I called a cab and went. The diagnosis ended up being gastroenteritis, which is what contributed to the severe dehydration. I'm still partially on a fluid diet (broth, Jell-O, etc), though I am cheating a bit. I want solid food, dammit. I'm not going to regain strength on broth alone, no matter how my gut rebels. The really fun part of this, though, has been that my doctor wants stool samples so he can determine whether the condition is viral or bacterial.
You haven't truly lived until you've had to collect your own stool samples. They don't do it at the lab. No, the lab gives you however many little vials the doctor has requested, partially filled with various liquid chemicals. You then get to go home and poop into a clean, dry container. Using the teeny-tiny little scoop included with the vial, you then must fill the vial to a certain level with your poop, stir it a bit, then (tightly!) close the lid and shake to mix your poop with the liquid chemical. It's a perverse little science experiment that would have your average 7-year-old howling with laughter. I kept feeling like I was in one of T00l's early videos, except that my bathroom is too brightly lit to have the right atmosphere. And I feel sorry for the poor lab tech who has to analyze my concoction.
And the lesson? Well, scooping your own poop is a great way to shed delusions. It's humbling, and the absurdity of it really helps to put other things into perspective. And the next time I'm accused of thinking my shit don't stink, I can reply, "Well, as a matter of fact, I happen to know very well that my shit stinks somethin' awful!"
Time to go have tea.
March 4, 2007
Tea and impermanence
My Sunday’s have become fairly predictable this winter. To break the routine, I took the bold step of ordering a tea at Sharazade’s that I’ve never tried before: Smokey Russian Caravan, a blend of China black and Lapsang Souchong teas. When the pot was set in front of me, I poured a cup and let it sit to cool a bit while I waited for my food. Just before my fritatta was served, I became aware of an unusual odor and wondered if they were burning a pig in the kitchen (nothing on the menu would indicate this as a possibility, though). Then I picked up my cup and took a few sips of the tea. The taste was a fairly typical tea flavor, mellow and smooth but with, as the name suggests, a definite smoky element. And then I realized it… The smoky odor I had noticed was coming from my tea. I sat there trying to think of it as the smoky aroma of burning wood, but just kept coming back to that first impression of burning pig flesh, kind of sweet & smoky at the same time. It made for a very weird tea experience, to munch on an English muffin with jam and a sage-sausage fritatta, while occasionally getting whiffs of that perfectly acceptable-tasting tea that smelled vaguely of a charnel ground. Was it perhaps highly appropriate to be drinking and smelling this tea while reading a Buddhist magazine? Didn’t Siddharta Gautama, on his way to Buddha-hood, practice with monks who, inspired by the Hindu god Shiva, meditated in charnel grounds in order to fully grasp the concept of impermanence? Don’t Hindu monks still smear their bodies with cremation ashes as a reminder of the impermanence of all things? (And yes, I realize that I’m blurring the lines between Buddhism and Hinduism. For me, interest in the latter led to studying the former, so they’re inextricably linked in my mind.) I don’t know that I could ever acquire enough of a taste for Smoky Russian Caravan to make it a regular part of my tea repertoire, but it might be a good one to drink every now and again as an alternative to smearing my body with cremation ashes in a charnel ground…
Noticed an ad in the magazine for a book titled The Cosmos in a Carrot: A Zen Guide to Eating Well. The pairing of the words "carrot" and "eating" caused me to grin, seeing as how I’d just the other day been listening to T00l’s "Disgustipated":
You really have to hear the perfect mid-western preacher twang with which Maynard delivers these lines to get the full impact of "Disgustipated." The above is followed by a minute or so of Maynard chanting "This is necessary… Life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on…", etc, etc.
I’ve decided that I want a t-shirt that reads "Let the rabbits wear glasses!!"
After breakfast, I headed back across the Potomac River for a hike around The Cornfield at Antietam National Battlefield Park. I’ve been coming to this battlefield for years. Surrounding the town of Sharpsburg, MD, it’s a beautiful area of rolling hills between South Mountain and the Potomac River. The driving tour is excellent for bicycling and the hiking trails, while short and easy, make for some great meandering. This history of the place is not nearly so pleasant. The battle of Antietam began at dawn of September 17th, 1862, north of Miller’s cornfield. Over the course of the morning, 15,000 Federal soldiers converged on the cornfield. As they filed through the 6 or so foot tall stalks, they met the Confederate army, approximately 9,200 men, on the other side. Within four hours, roughly 10,000 of all those men were no longer standing. Union General Joseph Hooker later wrote in his official report, "In the time I am writing, every stalk of corn in the northern and greater part of the field was cut as closely as could have been done with a knife, and the slain lay in rows precisely as they had stood in their ranks a few moments before." There were two more phases to the fighting at Antietam that day in other areas of the battlefield. By the end of the day, more than 23,000 men had died as a result of the battle. The official website for the battlefield puts it in perspective:
To view the magnitude of the losses, consider that Antietam resulted in nine times as many Americans killed or wounded (23,000 soldiers) as took place on June 6, 1944--D-day, the so-called "longest day" of World War II. Also consider that more soldiers were killed and wounded at the Battle of Antietam than the deaths of all Americans in the Revolutionary War, War of 1812, Mexican War, and Spanish-American War combined.
And that’s not even taking into account the toll this battle took on the citizens of Sharpsburg. Apparently, before, during and after the battle, there were almost 1,000 soldiers in the area per each resident of the town. The day after the battle, Lee’s troops packed up and headed back across the Potomac into Virginia. McClellan’s troops, though, remained in and around the town for two months, in order to "rest the army’s horses", as McClellan put it in a communication to President Lincoln. First, the battle ravages and destroys the majority of the farms in the area, then the town and local homes become a great big field hospital, then 80,000 soldiers take over for two months. It had to be a harrowing experience that left many citizens in ruin and poverty.
I followed up my hike by heading back to Shep’town. I had noticed as I was heading to Sharazade’s that the local movie theater (and we’re talking a real theater here, not any behemoth multi-plex) was showing Pan’s Labyrinth, a movie that I’d been hearing a lot about. If you have the chance to see this film while it’s still in theaters (or multi-plexes, if that’s all you’ve got access to), do so. It’s engrossing and beautiful and gory and disturbing and moving, and it deserves to be seen on a big screen. I’ll probably end up buying the dvd anyway, though, when it comes out, ‘cause it’ll still be good on a small screen. And it was a fitting way to end the afternoon, considering it was yet another exploration of impermanence (though the ending really goes both ways, with impermanence contrasted to everlasting life…).
And now it’s time to once again celebrate impermanence, by ending this post.
March 1, 2007
I'm jealous of Maynard
As part of the MJK kick I've been on lately, I recently sat and read the entire journal section at the website for his winery, Caduceus. Every page left me more and more wistful and envious. First of all, the website itself is freaking gorgeous. Second, (and I really hate to sound so teeny-bopperish) if I didn't have the impression that he'd totally drive me 'round the bend, I could probably really fall for a guy like MJK. His sense of humor, his thoughtfulness (as in, he thinks), his talent, the way he expresses himself... But, as is always the case when one pines after a celebrity, all of that is mere daydream. All I know of the guy, as he himself puts it in "Hooker With a Penis", is what he's sold me. So, any impression I do have of him is probably 90% projection.
What really got to me in reading the journal at Caduceus, though, is how fucking lucky he is to have found not just one passion in life (his music), but two. The way he describes working in the vineyard and developing his wines left me misty-eyed. Working the land, learning the patterns of the weather, watching the vines grow and the grapes mature... It just sounds so pure. He's found something rare in life, something many of us can only dream of because we don't have the opportunity, or the resources, or the balls to obtain it. Or, because we still just plain don't know what it is.
And the joy he seems to derive from life is evident in every word of that journal. The dude's had his share of pain in life (fans who've heard the story behind APC's "Judith" and T00l's "10,000 Days" have a vague idea of what his family's apparently been through), but he sounds like a little kid describing his experiences of the past few years. I especially got a kick out of the 12/20/06 entry (which he also posted at his MySpace Puscifer blog). It's so easy to assume that rock stars are rich, spoiled and blase', but Maynard's excitement over visiting the Great Pyramids of Egypt is touchingly refreshing.
MJK, man, if you ever read this... GIVE ME A JOB PICKING GRAPES!!!!
February 18, 2007
On anger and Audioslave
Last week was a crazy week. Work’s been nuts for months and I’ve been angry. As usual, though, there’s been little cause for the intensity of my emotional reactions. Nothing I was called upon to do last week was a true hardship. Duties not in my job description, perhaps, but that’s never stopped me from doing things before. I make a point of pitching in and doing what needs to be done. And no one who needed or expected me to do things for them last week did so maliciously. But the stuff I had to do has just further delayed projects that I’m responsible for that really do need to be completed. In the end (as I muttered under my breath all week), "It’s not f@#$king insulin, it’s just f@#$king jewelry!" Regardless of that fact, it’s time for me to try yet again to get a grip on my anger.
I’ve already written here about hatred. I can still honestly say that I can’t think of a single human being for whom I feel hatred. I’m to the point I can’t even say I "hate" eggplant. I just don’t like it and don’t want to eat it. Same thing for people. There are many I’d rather not spend time around, and many I’d much rather not see holding public office or leading a country, but hatred is one emotion I don’t feel towards any of them. Anger, though, is very different from hatred, and it’s my downfall.
Maynard James Keenan, bless his heart, summed it up for me in a video interview that I just recently found on YouTube: "Hate and anger are two completely separate energies. They might have a similar emotional charge to them, but anger is a much more constructive emotion than hate." I’m going to elaborate on that. While hate and anger are two separate energies, I think people confuse them because the two emotions are so often felt simultaneously. The one can easily lead to the other, and back again. And anger is only a constructive emotion when it’s detached from hatred, when it’s recognized and analyzed. If you don’t step back and take a dispassionate look at what’s behind your anger, then you don’t allow it to be constructive. So, that’s what I’m doing with this blog. I’m taking a step back from the anger I’ve felt these past weeks and months, looking at it, trying to understand where it comes from, and figuring out a way to de-fuse it before it gets set off in the future.
Clutch it like a cornerstone. Otherwise it all comes down.
Justify denials and grip 'em to the lonesome end.
Clutch it like a cornerstone. Otherwise it all comes down.
Terrified of being wrong. Ultimatum prison cell.
(T00l, "The Grudge" Lateralus)
From what I can tell, most of my angry responses come from two sources: a martyr complex I inherited from my parents (both Martyrs Extraordinaire, though I don’t think either of them realizes it), and a shadow-side need to be smarter and better at things than everyone around me. The martyr complex clicks in pretty much whenever someone asks me to do something, or when I have to take on extra duties for any length of time. I’m certainly not the only person in the company busting butt on a daily basis to get stuff done, but I’d sure make you think I am. And those pesky little needs that I try to deny I have? They show up in a seriously offensive attitude of disdain that I often display when I’m asked a procedural or systems question. Combine those elements with a short temper and you’ll end up with an arrogant martyr stomping around breathing scorn through her nostrils like flames while muttering curses under her breath. Not pretty. And not very Buddhist.
What’s really a killer is that, very often, I realize how I’m behaving and I become embarrassed. To cover the embarrassment, I become even more angry, as well as resentful of whoever was witness to my initial over-reaction, and end up with one more brick in the wall between that person and me. Depending on my relationship with that person, I’m convinced that it could literally kill me to just stop and apologize for my behavior. With some people, I am able to do that. With others… I’m afraid to test it. What if the lightning strike from Heaven took out innocent bystanders around me?
And on I read
Until the day was gone
And I sat in regret
Of all the things I've done
For all that I've blessed
And all that I've wronged
(Chris Cornell, "Like A Stone" Audioslave)
As a some-time student of Yoga and Buddhism, of course I know exactly what I need to do to change these habitual reactions. I need to meditate and learn to practice compassion. But meditation’s so hard to make time for when there’s MySpace on the ‘net and first-season "CSI" episodes on cable tv. I’ve said many a time that I’m going to make the commitment. It’s like an addict saying that they’re going to quit, and actually, that’s a very apt way of putting it. A friend of mine once talked about quitting smoking. He said that he was actually afraid to quit because smoking was part of his identity. When he pictured himself, it was always with a cigarette. That’s my issue. I identify myself with my anger. Who would I be without it? Some namby-pamby, perky, Rachael Ray-clone? Ick. I’d rather burn in hell (which I may do anyway, but that’s beside the point).
Actually, I have thought about what sort of person I’d like to be without my anger and I have an image that I can comfortably identify with. It’s a person who can take a breath, recognize the anger, bear witness to it, and then choose a more appropriate response. No namby-pamby-ness to it. Just rational and balanced.
"Out of evil, much good has come to me. By keeping quiet, repressing nothing, remaining attentive, and by accepting reality— taking things as they are, and not as I wanted them to be —by doing all this, unusual knowledge has come to me, and unusual powers as well, such as I could never have imagined before. I always thought that when we accepted things they overpowered us in some way or other. This turns out not to be true at all, and it is only by accepting them that one can assume an attitude towards them. So now I intend to play the game of life, being receptive to whatever comes to me, good and bad, sun and shadow forever alternating, and in this way also accepting my own nature with its positive and negative sides. Thus everything becomes more alive to me. What a fool I was! How I tried to force everything to go according to the way I felt it ought to!"
From a letter to Jung from one of his former patients, discussing her acceptance of her shadow side. Quoted in Jung’s Map of the Soul (Murray Stein)
An article in the March 2007 issue of Shambala Sun was well-timed to assist me in this latest commitment to change through meditation practice. This particular statement from Buddhist teacher David Nichtern almost directly addresses some of my concerns:
"A revolutionary approach we can take is to see that the obstacles can actually become the stepping stones of the path. Our irritation, boredom, emotional upheavals, and wandering mind are the basis of the meditation practice itself. Without them, there is no meditation practice, just some kind of gooey, vague, and highly suspicious sense of well-being that lacks any real strength or foundation. We are just trying to pacify our mind in a superficial way, without working with ourselves as we really are— emotional, speedy, tired, anxious, spaced out, or whatever arises."
Bingo. No gooey-ness, instead strength and foundation. So far, so good. The article then goes on to discuss the specific practice of maitri, or loving-kindness. Now, I have trouble with my attempts to practice Buddhism whenever that term comes up. It’s just too gooey and namby-pamby for me. But, while "maitri means loving-kindness or unconditional friendliness… [it] is also a further step into overcoming and transforming our habitual patterns of selfishness and aggression." Dammit, they got me there. The only excuse I have left is the pull of those "CSI" episodes.
So, how to practice a maitri meditation? Beginning with the image of a loved one in your mind, direct the following wishes to that person: "May you be safe. May you be happy. May you be healthy. May you be at ease." Next, extend those wishes to your self. Then, towards some person or persons to whom you feel neutral. Finally, direct those wishes towards some person or group of people that irritates you, or that you would consider an "enemy." Through this practice, one can "deliberately cultivate and direct… goodwill and positive intentions toward ourselves and others." Knowing myself, though, the computer and the tv will win out over any form of meditation.
Another method I’ve considered, a sort of shortcut, is something I remember from a television interview with Richard Gere. Gere is, of course, the most well-known "celebrity" Buddhist out there, and he’s apparently sincere. In this interview, he described a practice he uses that he described as "so simple, and at the same time, so profound." And it is. In any situation dealing with another person, whether positive or negative, merely think "I wish you peace" towards that person. When the barrista at Starbucks gets your order just right, look at him and think, "I wish you peace." When a woman with a cell phone growing from her ear cuts you off in traffic, look her way and think, "I wish you peace." I mean, really, do you (do I) honestly wish that she’d crash and her car burst into flames? No. Honestly, at that moment, you (I) really wish yourself (myself) peace, and the best way to achieve it for your (my) self is to wish it for her as well.
So, what excuses do I have left? I’ve found a self-image that’s genuine, that accepts the emotional response yet catches it and allows me to choose before I react. If the anger’s valid, then I can choose to use it as a vehicle to change whatever inspired that emotion. If it’s not valid, then I’ve found a quick’n’easy choice in the "I wish you peace" practice. And, one day, maybe I’ll even begin sitting my ass down on a cushion for some real meditation in order to more easily achieve the goal of becoming that new peace-wishing self-image. Any MySpace Friends out there want to give me some words of encouragement along the way?
On another note: Late last week, Chris Cornell announced that he’s leaving Audioslave. I was surprised, yet not surprised. Contrary to most of the reviews I’ve read of Audioslave’s albums, I felt the first album was the only one on which they gelled. The music and the lyrics on that album have a much more organic feel to them, I believe. They fit better than on the second and third albums. Most reviews seem to say the opposite, but I can think of two examples on the second album, in particular, that indicate otherwise. The song "Out of Exile", for which the second album is titled, begins with a martial, military-sounding drum riff. By the time the lyrics begin, though, it’s become a sappy, romantic love song to Chris Cornell’s new wife. How could the guys in ‘Slave think that those two elements went together? The first song on the album, "Your Time Has Come", is lyrically about various people Cornell has known who died senseless deaths while still young. In the third verse, he compares these deaths to the feeling he had seeing the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, DC, the "wall of names". While the song’s not about war, specifically, wouldn’t it have made a tad more sense to pair that military-sounding drum beat to those lyrics? That’s just one glaring example of the synchronicity that Audioslave seemed to lose between their first album and the last two. So, as much as I loved Audioslave, I can’t say I’m disappointed. And I can’t wait to see what Tom, Tim and Brad do next, whether it means reuniting with their old Rage Against the Machine pal, Zack de la Rocha, or not. They’re talented guys who craft some killer tunes.
As for Cornell, I really think that anyone he works with is gonna have to realize that they’re taking a back seat to Chris. Even if Chris himself tries to believe that he’s working as part of a greater whole, any musicians he collaborates with are going to end up being nothing but a vehicle for his talent and drive. While I haven’t been 100% thrilled with everything he’s done on the last two ‘Slave albums (Too many sappy love songs to the new wife. There’s one song in particular that wins the title of "First Chris Cornell Song I Just Won’t Listen To"), I’m still eager to hear his upcoming second solo album. The man’s been through so many transitions in his life that have been reflected in his music, it’s been fascinating to follow along and hear how he’s grown and evolved. At this point, I may not love everything he does, but the fascination’s still there, as well as the anticipation that at least some of his words will still move me.
Forget how soon
You become a fool for words when I speak
(Chris Cornell, "Flutter Girl" Euphoria Morning)
I’ve already written here about hatred. I can still honestly say that I can’t think of a single human being for whom I feel hatred. I’m to the point I can’t even say I "hate" eggplant. I just don’t like it and don’t want to eat it. Same thing for people. There are many I’d rather not spend time around, and many I’d much rather not see holding public office or leading a country, but hatred is one emotion I don’t feel towards any of them. Anger, though, is very different from hatred, and it’s my downfall.
Maynard James Keenan, bless his heart, summed it up for me in a video interview that I just recently found on YouTube: "Hate and anger are two completely separate energies. They might have a similar emotional charge to them, but anger is a much more constructive emotion than hate." I’m going to elaborate on that. While hate and anger are two separate energies, I think people confuse them because the two emotions are so often felt simultaneously. The one can easily lead to the other, and back again. And anger is only a constructive emotion when it’s detached from hatred, when it’s recognized and analyzed. If you don’t step back and take a dispassionate look at what’s behind your anger, then you don’t allow it to be constructive. So, that’s what I’m doing with this blog. I’m taking a step back from the anger I’ve felt these past weeks and months, looking at it, trying to understand where it comes from, and figuring out a way to de-fuse it before it gets set off in the future.
Clutch it like a cornerstone. Otherwise it all comes down.
Justify denials and grip 'em to the lonesome end.
Clutch it like a cornerstone. Otherwise it all comes down.
Terrified of being wrong. Ultimatum prison cell.
(T00l, "The Grudge" Lateralus)
From what I can tell, most of my angry responses come from two sources: a martyr complex I inherited from my parents (both Martyrs Extraordinaire, though I don’t think either of them realizes it), and a shadow-side need to be smarter and better at things than everyone around me. The martyr complex clicks in pretty much whenever someone asks me to do something, or when I have to take on extra duties for any length of time. I’m certainly not the only person in the company busting butt on a daily basis to get stuff done, but I’d sure make you think I am. And those pesky little needs that I try to deny I have? They show up in a seriously offensive attitude of disdain that I often display when I’m asked a procedural or systems question. Combine those elements with a short temper and you’ll end up with an arrogant martyr stomping around breathing scorn through her nostrils like flames while muttering curses under her breath. Not pretty. And not very Buddhist.
What’s really a killer is that, very often, I realize how I’m behaving and I become embarrassed. To cover the embarrassment, I become even more angry, as well as resentful of whoever was witness to my initial over-reaction, and end up with one more brick in the wall between that person and me. Depending on my relationship with that person, I’m convinced that it could literally kill me to just stop and apologize for my behavior. With some people, I am able to do that. With others… I’m afraid to test it. What if the lightning strike from Heaven took out innocent bystanders around me?
And on I read
Until the day was gone
And I sat in regret
Of all the things I've done
For all that I've blessed
And all that I've wronged
(Chris Cornell, "Like A Stone" Audioslave)
As a some-time student of Yoga and Buddhism, of course I know exactly what I need to do to change these habitual reactions. I need to meditate and learn to practice compassion. But meditation’s so hard to make time for when there’s MySpace on the ‘net and first-season "CSI" episodes on cable tv. I’ve said many a time that I’m going to make the commitment. It’s like an addict saying that they’re going to quit, and actually, that’s a very apt way of putting it. A friend of mine once talked about quitting smoking. He said that he was actually afraid to quit because smoking was part of his identity. When he pictured himself, it was always with a cigarette. That’s my issue. I identify myself with my anger. Who would I be without it? Some namby-pamby, perky, Rachael Ray-clone? Ick. I’d rather burn in hell (which I may do anyway, but that’s beside the point).
Actually, I have thought about what sort of person I’d like to be without my anger and I have an image that I can comfortably identify with. It’s a person who can take a breath, recognize the anger, bear witness to it, and then choose a more appropriate response. No namby-pamby-ness to it. Just rational and balanced.
From a letter to Jung from one of his former patients, discussing her acceptance of her shadow side. Quoted in Jung’s Map of the Soul (Murray Stein)
An article in the March 2007 issue of Shambala Sun was well-timed to assist me in this latest commitment to change through meditation practice. This particular statement from Buddhist teacher David Nichtern almost directly addresses some of my concerns:
Bingo. No gooey-ness, instead strength and foundation. So far, so good. The article then goes on to discuss the specific practice of maitri, or loving-kindness. Now, I have trouble with my attempts to practice Buddhism whenever that term comes up. It’s just too gooey and namby-pamby for me. But, while "maitri means loving-kindness or unconditional friendliness… [it] is also a further step into overcoming and transforming our habitual patterns of selfishness and aggression." Dammit, they got me there. The only excuse I have left is the pull of those "CSI" episodes.
So, how to practice a maitri meditation? Beginning with the image of a loved one in your mind, direct the following wishes to that person: "May you be safe. May you be happy. May you be healthy. May you be at ease." Next, extend those wishes to your self. Then, towards some person or persons to whom you feel neutral. Finally, direct those wishes towards some person or group of people that irritates you, or that you would consider an "enemy." Through this practice, one can "deliberately cultivate and direct… goodwill and positive intentions toward ourselves and others." Knowing myself, though, the computer and the tv will win out over any form of meditation.
Another method I’ve considered, a sort of shortcut, is something I remember from a television interview with Richard Gere. Gere is, of course, the most well-known "celebrity" Buddhist out there, and he’s apparently sincere. In this interview, he described a practice he uses that he described as "so simple, and at the same time, so profound." And it is. In any situation dealing with another person, whether positive or negative, merely think "I wish you peace" towards that person. When the barrista at Starbucks gets your order just right, look at him and think, "I wish you peace." When a woman with a cell phone growing from her ear cuts you off in traffic, look her way and think, "I wish you peace." I mean, really, do you (do I) honestly wish that she’d crash and her car burst into flames? No. Honestly, at that moment, you (I) really wish yourself (myself) peace, and the best way to achieve it for your (my) self is to wish it for her as well.
So, what excuses do I have left? I’ve found a self-image that’s genuine, that accepts the emotional response yet catches it and allows me to choose before I react. If the anger’s valid, then I can choose to use it as a vehicle to change whatever inspired that emotion. If it’s not valid, then I’ve found a quick’n’easy choice in the "I wish you peace" practice. And, one day, maybe I’ll even begin sitting my ass down on a cushion for some real meditation in order to more easily achieve the goal of becoming that new peace-wishing self-image. Any MySpace Friends out there want to give me some words of encouragement along the way?
On another note: Late last week, Chris Cornell announced that he’s leaving Audioslave. I was surprised, yet not surprised. Contrary to most of the reviews I’ve read of Audioslave’s albums, I felt the first album was the only one on which they gelled. The music and the lyrics on that album have a much more organic feel to them, I believe. They fit better than on the second and third albums. Most reviews seem to say the opposite, but I can think of two examples on the second album, in particular, that indicate otherwise. The song "Out of Exile", for which the second album is titled, begins with a martial, military-sounding drum riff. By the time the lyrics begin, though, it’s become a sappy, romantic love song to Chris Cornell’s new wife. How could the guys in ‘Slave think that those two elements went together? The first song on the album, "Your Time Has Come", is lyrically about various people Cornell has known who died senseless deaths while still young. In the third verse, he compares these deaths to the feeling he had seeing the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, DC, the "wall of names". While the song’s not about war, specifically, wouldn’t it have made a tad more sense to pair that military-sounding drum beat to those lyrics? That’s just one glaring example of the synchronicity that Audioslave seemed to lose between their first album and the last two. So, as much as I loved Audioslave, I can’t say I’m disappointed. And I can’t wait to see what Tom, Tim and Brad do next, whether it means reuniting with their old Rage Against the Machine pal, Zack de la Rocha, or not. They’re talented guys who craft some killer tunes.
As for Cornell, I really think that anyone he works with is gonna have to realize that they’re taking a back seat to Chris. Even if Chris himself tries to believe that he’s working as part of a greater whole, any musicians he collaborates with are going to end up being nothing but a vehicle for his talent and drive. While I haven’t been 100% thrilled with everything he’s done on the last two ‘Slave albums (Too many sappy love songs to the new wife. There’s one song in particular that wins the title of "First Chris Cornell Song I Just Won’t Listen To"), I’m still eager to hear his upcoming second solo album. The man’s been through so many transitions in his life that have been reflected in his music, it’s been fascinating to follow along and hear how he’s grown and evolved. At this point, I may not love everything he does, but the fascination’s still there, as well as the anticipation that at least some of his words will still move me.
Forget how soon
You become a fool for words when I speak
(Chris Cornell, "Flutter Girl" Euphoria Morning)
February 11, 2007
Tea with Maynard & Carl
Lunch at Teavolve in B'more. Sun-dried tomato quiche and a pot of Keemun hairpoint. Such a serene spot, and it was especially nice that Sunni, the proprietress, apparently recognized me when I walked in. After my first visit three weeks ago, I messaged her through MySpace to ask about the paint color in the shop's bathroom. As I was ordering today, I asked again and she knew exactly what I was talking about. Though I guess most patrons don't inquire about the decorating details of the 'loo…
I've been on a synchronous kick lately of Carl Jung and T00l. As I stated in my post about "Forty-six&2", that song got me into Jung in the first place, through the exploration of the Shadow archetype. On their next album, Lateralus, the song "Reflection" also steers me towards Jungian contemplations. (Man, I'm gettin' deep already tonight. Anyway…) Here are the lyrics:
I have come curiously close to the end, down
Beneath my self-indulgent pitiful hole,
Defeated, I concede and
Move closer
I may find comfort here
I may find peace within the emptiness
How pitiful
It's calling me...
And in my darkest moment, fetal and weeping
The moon tells me a secret - my confidant
As full and bright as I am
This light is not my own and
A million light reflections pass over me
Its source is bright and endless
She resuscitates the hopeless
Without her, we are lifeless satellites drifting
And as I pull my head out I am without one doubt
Don't wanna be down here feeding my narcissism.
I must crucify the ego before it's far too late
I pray the light lifts me out
Before I pine away.
So crucify the ego, before it's far too late
To leave behind this place so negative and blind and cynical,
And you will come to find that we are all one mind
Capable of all that's imagined and all conceivable.
Just let the light touch you
And let the words spill through
And let them pass right through
Bringing out our hope and reason ...
before we pine away.
What I always wonder about this song is how Maynard defines the term "ego". When he sings that he must "crucify the ego", he seems to be using the standard connotation of ego as something that becomes inflated and takes over our better selves, as opposed to the Jungian interpretation, or even the Freudian, for that matter.
The book I've been working on lately is Jung's Map of the Soul, by Murray Stein. It's basically an introductory overview of Jung's theories regarding psyche, the ego, the self, persona/shadow, anima/us, complexes and consciousness. Stein starts out in his introduction comparing Jung's exploration and explanation of the psyche to a map, but the impression I keep getting is of a solar system or a universe, with just a bit of a skew. At the core of Jung's 'universe' is the ego: "It forms, as it were, the centre of the field of consciousness; and, in so far as this comprises the empirical personality, the ego is the subject of all personal acts of consciousness" (Jung). As the center of the 'universe' I keep picturing, the ego becomes not the Sun but, as in an antiquated view of our solar system, the Earth. It is "one's experience of oneself as a center of willing, desiring, reflecting and acting" (Stein). "The ego is a kind of mirror in which the psyche can see itself and can become aware. The degree to which a psychic content is taken up and reflected by the ego is the degree to which it can be said to belong to the realm of consciousness" (Stein). What's important to keep in mind with Jung's concept of ego is that it is not consciousness itself- consciousness is awareness, it contains the ego as well as the other complexes that revolve in the solar system of the psyche. Floating throughout this solar system are the various contents of consciousness- thoughts, memories, identity, fantasies, emotions, images and words. As the center of consciousness, the ego plays a large role in determining "which contents remain within the realm of consciousness and which ones drop away into the unconscious" (Stein). Here's where we begin to get into repression: the ego can choose to repress contents that it doesn't like or finds painful or incompatible with other contents (which leads to the development of the Shadow).
The ego can also be said to be the factor that sets us apart from other creatures, as well as from fellow human beings. It gives our conscious behavior focus and direction. It wills and acts, it represents our free will. Stein gives the very basic example of choosing to go to the post office as an action decided upon and directed by the ego, but it goes far beyond that. "Because we have an ego, we possess the freedom to make choices that may defy our instincts for self-preservation, propagation, and creativity… A strong ego is one that can obtain and move around in a deliberate way large amounts of conscious content. A weak ego cannot do very much of this kind of work and more easily succumbs to impulses and emotional reactions" (Stein).
The ego is developed via "what he [Jung] called 'collisions.' In other words, conflict, trouble, anguish, sorrow, suffering… As the ego tries to apply its will, it meets a certain measure of resistance from the environment, and if this collision is handled well the result will be the ego's growth… A moderate amount of conflict with the environment and some frustration are, therefore… the best conditions for ego growth" (Stein). A strong, well-developed ego is necessary to deal with the various complexes buried within us that throw our psyche out of balance at the touch of a button. "What the ego can do, if it is strong enough, is to contain some of the complex's energy within itself and to minimize emotional and physical outbursts" (Stein) that can occur when we are in the grip of a stimulated complex.
Similarly, Freud's definition of the ego implies a "a set of psychic functions such as reality-testing, defence, synthesis of information, intellectual functioning, and memory" (Wikipedia: Ego, super-ego, and id). It is "based on the reality principle. The ego understands that other people have needs and desires and that sometimes being impulsive or selfish can hurt us in the long run. Its job is to meet the needs of the id [the source of our most basic drives and impulses], while taking into consideration the reality of the situation" (AllPsych On-line: Freud's Structural and Topographical Models of Personality. On the flipside, while satisfying the desires of the id, the ego must take care to not upset the super-ego, which is the seat of our conscience and sense of morality. A weak ego, in the Freudian sense, would not be able to maintain this balance, leading to a personality either given to impulsive self-gratification or a rigid and judgmental morality. A strong ego is one that is able to balance these other aspects of the psyche to keep us centered and able to cope with reality.
Considering these definitions of ego, it seems that Maynard has it backwards. Rather than crucifying the ego, what is needed to escape that "self-indulgent pitiful hole" is to strengthen the ego, to develop it in order to prevent our descent into that hole in the first place.
Now, when I look at this song from a Buddhist perspective, I pick up on other elements of it with which to disagree (Sorry, MJK) First off, Maynard describes finding peace within emptiness as "pitiful." This is in contrast to the Buddhist idea of emptiness: "This concept, known as sunyata… is a key feature of Mahayana Buddhism. Such a term may appear, on the face of it, to have negative connotations, as though something is lacking. The opposite is in fact true. In Buddhism, the realization of emptiness equates to the experience of nibbana (nirvana) and therefore the cessation of suffering or dukkha" (About.com: Buddhism- Emptiness). As such, the concept of emptiness is a comforting one to Buddhists, and not a pitiful state to which one concedes in defeat.
"So crucify the ego, before it's far too late
To leave behind this place so negative and blind and cynical,
And you will come to find that we are all one mind
Capable of all that's imagined and all conceivable."
There is one line in which MJK sounds a tad Buddhist, in his assertion that "we are all one mind." The idea of interdependency is just as basic to the study of Buddhism as is that of emptiness. We are all one and inseparable. This lack of separation, this oneness, means that the self-indulgent narcissism Maynard sings of is a delusory state that leads to that painfully blind cynicism. Baaaaad Buddhist that I am, I have to admit that this idea actually kind of scares me sometimes. When I look at the people around me, the idea of being of one mind with some of them just freaks me out. I mean, I'm of "one mind" with that Larry-the-cable-guy clone in the pickup truck that just leered at me as he cut me off in traffic? I'm of "one mind" with the Ebonics-talking woman in the Sheetz restroom, screaming at her kids while carrying on a raucous conversation over the cellphone growing out of her ear? Forgive my blind, cynical and narcissistic ego here, but can't I just be of "one mind" with somebody like MJK and leave it at that?
And the Buddha's probably now rolling in whatever entity he's currently incarnated in… (Oh wait, I've used that joke already. It wasn't funny the first time, either.)
That'th all folkth!
Revision added 2/14/07:
Seriously, though, in spite of my nit-picking contradictions with MJK's use of certain terms, the overall message of this song is a valuable one. The idea that letting go of the narcissistic b.s. we all cling to will open us up to oneness and peace is very Buddhist, and certainly something to aspire towards. And the music to which these words are set is beautiful and haunting. On those rare occassions that I make an effort, I've found this a wonderful song to meditate to. (Note to self: Make that effort a little more frequently!!)
I've been on a synchronous kick lately of Carl Jung and T00l. As I stated in my post about "Forty-six&2", that song got me into Jung in the first place, through the exploration of the Shadow archetype. On their next album, Lateralus, the song "Reflection" also steers me towards Jungian contemplations. (Man, I'm gettin' deep already tonight. Anyway…) Here are the lyrics:
I have come curiously close to the end, down
Beneath my self-indulgent pitiful hole,
Defeated, I concede and
Move closer
I may find comfort here
I may find peace within the emptiness
How pitiful
It's calling me...
And in my darkest moment, fetal and weeping
The moon tells me a secret - my confidant
As full and bright as I am
This light is not my own and
A million light reflections pass over me
Its source is bright and endless
She resuscitates the hopeless
Without her, we are lifeless satellites drifting
And as I pull my head out I am without one doubt
Don't wanna be down here feeding my narcissism.
I must crucify the ego before it's far too late
I pray the light lifts me out
Before I pine away.
So crucify the ego, before it's far too late
To leave behind this place so negative and blind and cynical,
And you will come to find that we are all one mind
Capable of all that's imagined and all conceivable.
Just let the light touch you
And let the words spill through
And let them pass right through
Bringing out our hope and reason ...
before we pine away.
What I always wonder about this song is how Maynard defines the term "ego". When he sings that he must "crucify the ego", he seems to be using the standard connotation of ego as something that becomes inflated and takes over our better selves, as opposed to the Jungian interpretation, or even the Freudian, for that matter.
The book I've been working on lately is Jung's Map of the Soul, by Murray Stein. It's basically an introductory overview of Jung's theories regarding psyche, the ego, the self, persona/shadow, anima/us, complexes and consciousness. Stein starts out in his introduction comparing Jung's exploration and explanation of the psyche to a map, but the impression I keep getting is of a solar system or a universe, with just a bit of a skew. At the core of Jung's 'universe' is the ego: "It forms, as it were, the centre of the field of consciousness; and, in so far as this comprises the empirical personality, the ego is the subject of all personal acts of consciousness" (Jung). As the center of the 'universe' I keep picturing, the ego becomes not the Sun but, as in an antiquated view of our solar system, the Earth. It is "one's experience of oneself as a center of willing, desiring, reflecting and acting" (Stein). "The ego is a kind of mirror in which the psyche can see itself and can become aware. The degree to which a psychic content is taken up and reflected by the ego is the degree to which it can be said to belong to the realm of consciousness" (Stein). What's important to keep in mind with Jung's concept of ego is that it is not consciousness itself- consciousness is awareness, it contains the ego as well as the other complexes that revolve in the solar system of the psyche. Floating throughout this solar system are the various contents of consciousness- thoughts, memories, identity, fantasies, emotions, images and words. As the center of consciousness, the ego plays a large role in determining "which contents remain within the realm of consciousness and which ones drop away into the unconscious" (Stein). Here's where we begin to get into repression: the ego can choose to repress contents that it doesn't like or finds painful or incompatible with other contents (which leads to the development of the Shadow).
The ego can also be said to be the factor that sets us apart from other creatures, as well as from fellow human beings. It gives our conscious behavior focus and direction. It wills and acts, it represents our free will. Stein gives the very basic example of choosing to go to the post office as an action decided upon and directed by the ego, but it goes far beyond that. "Because we have an ego, we possess the freedom to make choices that may defy our instincts for self-preservation, propagation, and creativity… A strong ego is one that can obtain and move around in a deliberate way large amounts of conscious content. A weak ego cannot do very much of this kind of work and more easily succumbs to impulses and emotional reactions" (Stein).
The ego is developed via "what he [Jung] called 'collisions.' In other words, conflict, trouble, anguish, sorrow, suffering… As the ego tries to apply its will, it meets a certain measure of resistance from the environment, and if this collision is handled well the result will be the ego's growth… A moderate amount of conflict with the environment and some frustration are, therefore… the best conditions for ego growth" (Stein). A strong, well-developed ego is necessary to deal with the various complexes buried within us that throw our psyche out of balance at the touch of a button. "What the ego can do, if it is strong enough, is to contain some of the complex's energy within itself and to minimize emotional and physical outbursts" (Stein) that can occur when we are in the grip of a stimulated complex.
Similarly, Freud's definition of the ego implies a "a set of psychic functions such as reality-testing, defence, synthesis of information, intellectual functioning, and memory" (Wikipedia: Ego, super-ego, and id). It is "based on the reality principle. The ego understands that other people have needs and desires and that sometimes being impulsive or selfish can hurt us in the long run. Its job is to meet the needs of the id [the source of our most basic drives and impulses], while taking into consideration the reality of the situation" (AllPsych On-line: Freud's Structural and Topographical Models of Personality. On the flipside, while satisfying the desires of the id, the ego must take care to not upset the super-ego, which is the seat of our conscience and sense of morality. A weak ego, in the Freudian sense, would not be able to maintain this balance, leading to a personality either given to impulsive self-gratification or a rigid and judgmental morality. A strong ego is one that is able to balance these other aspects of the psyche to keep us centered and able to cope with reality.
Considering these definitions of ego, it seems that Maynard has it backwards. Rather than crucifying the ego, what is needed to escape that "self-indulgent pitiful hole" is to strengthen the ego, to develop it in order to prevent our descent into that hole in the first place.
Now, when I look at this song from a Buddhist perspective, I pick up on other elements of it with which to disagree (Sorry, MJK) First off, Maynard describes finding peace within emptiness as "pitiful." This is in contrast to the Buddhist idea of emptiness: "This concept, known as sunyata… is a key feature of Mahayana Buddhism. Such a term may appear, on the face of it, to have negative connotations, as though something is lacking. The opposite is in fact true. In Buddhism, the realization of emptiness equates to the experience of nibbana (nirvana) and therefore the cessation of suffering or dukkha" (About.com: Buddhism- Emptiness). As such, the concept of emptiness is a comforting one to Buddhists, and not a pitiful state to which one concedes in defeat.
"So crucify the ego, before it's far too late
To leave behind this place so negative and blind and cynical,
And you will come to find that we are all one mind
Capable of all that's imagined and all conceivable."
There is one line in which MJK sounds a tad Buddhist, in his assertion that "we are all one mind." The idea of interdependency is just as basic to the study of Buddhism as is that of emptiness. We are all one and inseparable. This lack of separation, this oneness, means that the self-indulgent narcissism Maynard sings of is a delusory state that leads to that painfully blind cynicism. Baaaaad Buddhist that I am, I have to admit that this idea actually kind of scares me sometimes. When I look at the people around me, the idea of being of one mind with some of them just freaks me out. I mean, I'm of "one mind" with that Larry-the-cable-guy clone in the pickup truck that just leered at me as he cut me off in traffic? I'm of "one mind" with the Ebonics-talking woman in the Sheetz restroom, screaming at her kids while carrying on a raucous conversation over the cellphone growing out of her ear? Forgive my blind, cynical and narcissistic ego here, but can't I just be of "one mind" with somebody like MJK and leave it at that?
And the Buddha's probably now rolling in whatever entity he's currently incarnated in… (Oh wait, I've used that joke already. It wasn't funny the first time, either.)
That'th all folkth!
Revision added 2/14/07:
Seriously, though, in spite of my nit-picking contradictions with MJK's use of certain terms, the overall message of this song is a valuable one. The idea that letting go of the narcissistic b.s. we all cling to will open us up to oneness and peace is very Buddhist, and certainly something to aspire towards. And the music to which these words are set is beautiful and haunting. On those rare occassions that I make an effort, I've found this a wonderful song to meditate to. (Note to self: Make that effort a little more frequently!!)
Labels:
Buddhism,
Carl Jung,
Lateralus,
Maynard James Keenan,
Reflection,
Sigmund Freud,
tea,
Teavolve,
Tool
February 6, 2007
Step into the shadow, forty-six+2 are just ahead of me...
This is the song that got me into T00l, and then subsequently got me into Jung. I've read various things around the 'net about the 46+2 reference having to do with the fact that human beings currently have a chromosome composition of 44+2, and that if/when we develop the additional chromosomes necessary to reach 46+2 then we'll achieve "Christ consciousness." Yadda, yadda, yadda... That may or may not be, but on a more basic level, I still get plenty out of this song:
My shadow's
shedding skin and
I've been picking
Scabs again.
I'm down
Digging through
My old muscles
Looking for a clue.
I've been crawling on my belly
Clearing out what could've been.
I've been wallowing in my own confused
And insecure delusions
For a piece to cross me over
Or a word to guide me in.
I wanna feel the changes coming down.
I wanna know what I've been hiding in
My shadow.
Change is coming through my shadow.
My shadow's shedding skin
I've been picking
My scabs again.
I've been crawling on my belly
Clearing out what could've been.
I've been wallowing in my own chaotic
And insecure delusions.
I wanna feel the change consume me,
Feel the outside turning in.
I wanna feel the metamorphosis and
Cleansing I've endured within
My shadow.
Change is coming.
Now is my time.
Listen to my muscle memory.
Contemplate what I've been clinging to.
Forty-six and two ahead of me.
I choose to live and to
Grow, take and give and to
Move, learn and love and to
Cry, kill and die and to
Be paranoid and to
Lie, hate and fear and to
Do what it takes to move through.
I choose to live and to
Lie, kill and give and to
Die, learn and love and to
Do what it takes to step through.
See my shadow changing,
Stretching up and over me.
Soften this old armor.
Hoping I can clear the way
By stepping through my shadow,
Coming out the other side.
Step into the shadow.
Forty six and two are just ahead of me.
Around the time I first heard this song, I had recently experienced the end of a six year relationship in which I willingly suppressed parts of my personality in the name of what I thought was "compromise". Trite as it may sound, these words from MJK were a revelation. I'd been spending a lot of time "wallowing in my own confused and insecure delusions" of rejection and abandonment. Upon hearing this, I realized it was time to get re-acquainted with all those more... unusual portions of my self that didn't quite fit with my ex.
The idea of the shadow, I think, is often mis-represented. Many people seem to perceive of it as only containing our most perverse, unacceptable, "dirty" aspects. It's our "dark side", it's ugly, it's dangerous, it's sexy. That's like the Hollywood reading of the shadow. My own interpretation takes a wider view. While the shadow does seem to encompass the darker, perhaps less moral characteristics we'd rather not admit to, it also can contain all those silly, petty little needs we'd like to pretend we don't have: need for attention, need for approval, need for commendation, need for acceptance, need to always be right... Less dark, and decidedly less sexy. Also hidden amongst all of the dark dangerousness and less dark pettiness can be strong, creative, more elemental aspects of our character that we may just plain not know how to deal with, so we stuff them down and sublimate them in those deep areas of our unconscious. Here's a concise description that seems to me to be fairly accurate: Confrontation with the Shadow by Kevin Wilson.
By taking a good, hard, objective look at our reactions and behaviors, we can begin to see some the elements of our own shadow. It's especially easy to see when we catch ourselves in the act of projection. As our MySpace friend Kevin explains, very often the qualities we abhor in others are the very aspects of ourselves we'd rather not be conscious of. The obnoxious, arrogant co-worker who always has to be right. The self-centered, inconsiderate idiot who cut us off in traffic. The silly bimbo chick who gets all the attention at a party. The terrorists who blow up others in the name of "belief". If we look deeply enough in the mirror, we might see glimpses of ourselves, if not committing the same acts, then at least occasionally exhibiting similar characteristics and motivations, or wishing that we could. The fear of consciously realizing this about ourselves enrages us and, voila!, our fear and rage is projected onto that other person. (Hmmm... Suddenly this is tying in with my post on hatred...)
When we take the bold step of looking back over our feelings, actions, and motivations, really, truly and objectively analyzing them, then we can begin to catch glimpses of our shadow. The next step is to admit that we have these imperfections. Not with shame or self-loathing, mind you. Just with objective, rational acceptance. Even the Dalai Lama's shit stinks, man. Learn to live with your pettiness and your darkness. We all have some assortment of bad habits, needs, desires and traits that would get us kicked out of Sunday School. Why be so ashamed and afraid? This is not to say one should give these traits and impulses free-reign, of course. There is a reason that they're considered "bad". But let them out of the dark cellar of the unconscious, show them a little compassion, and you may find there's less to be afraid of than you thought. They may even behave themselves better than you expect, and can color your personality in some very interesting, albeit quirky, ways. Treat them as little siblings of the "big brother" good qualities in your nature. While the big brother gets a scholarship, goes off to college, becomes an intelligent and magnanimous President of the United States, those dark little siblings can sit at home quietly blogging, not feeling so much need to act up because they know that they're unconditionally accepted.
I choose to live and to
Grow, take and give and to
Move, learn and love and to
Cry, kill and die and to be
Paranoid and to
Lie, hate and fear and to
Do what it takes to move through.
My shadow's
shedding skin and
I've been picking
Scabs again.
I'm down
Digging through
My old muscles
Looking for a clue.
I've been crawling on my belly
Clearing out what could've been.
I've been wallowing in my own confused
And insecure delusions
For a piece to cross me over
Or a word to guide me in.
I wanna feel the changes coming down.
I wanna know what I've been hiding in
My shadow.
Change is coming through my shadow.
My shadow's shedding skin
I've been picking
My scabs again.
I've been crawling on my belly
Clearing out what could've been.
I've been wallowing in my own chaotic
And insecure delusions.
I wanna feel the change consume me,
Feel the outside turning in.
I wanna feel the metamorphosis and
Cleansing I've endured within
My shadow.
Change is coming.
Now is my time.
Listen to my muscle memory.
Contemplate what I've been clinging to.
Forty-six and two ahead of me.
I choose to live and to
Grow, take and give and to
Move, learn and love and to
Cry, kill and die and to
Be paranoid and to
Lie, hate and fear and to
Do what it takes to move through.
I choose to live and to
Lie, kill and give and to
Die, learn and love and to
Do what it takes to step through.
See my shadow changing,
Stretching up and over me.
Soften this old armor.
Hoping I can clear the way
By stepping through my shadow,
Coming out the other side.
Step into the shadow.
Forty six and two are just ahead of me.
Around the time I first heard this song, I had recently experienced the end of a six year relationship in which I willingly suppressed parts of my personality in the name of what I thought was "compromise". Trite as it may sound, these words from MJK were a revelation. I'd been spending a lot of time "wallowing in my own confused and insecure delusions" of rejection and abandonment. Upon hearing this, I realized it was time to get re-acquainted with all those more... unusual portions of my self that didn't quite fit with my ex.
The idea of the shadow, I think, is often mis-represented. Many people seem to perceive of it as only containing our most perverse, unacceptable, "dirty" aspects. It's our "dark side", it's ugly, it's dangerous, it's sexy. That's like the Hollywood reading of the shadow. My own interpretation takes a wider view. While the shadow does seem to encompass the darker, perhaps less moral characteristics we'd rather not admit to, it also can contain all those silly, petty little needs we'd like to pretend we don't have: need for attention, need for approval, need for commendation, need for acceptance, need to always be right... Less dark, and decidedly less sexy. Also hidden amongst all of the dark dangerousness and less dark pettiness can be strong, creative, more elemental aspects of our character that we may just plain not know how to deal with, so we stuff them down and sublimate them in those deep areas of our unconscious. Here's a concise description that seems to me to be fairly accurate: Confrontation with the Shadow by Kevin Wilson.
By taking a good, hard, objective look at our reactions and behaviors, we can begin to see some the elements of our own shadow. It's especially easy to see when we catch ourselves in the act of projection. As our MySpace friend Kevin explains, very often the qualities we abhor in others are the very aspects of ourselves we'd rather not be conscious of. The obnoxious, arrogant co-worker who always has to be right. The self-centered, inconsiderate idiot who cut us off in traffic. The silly bimbo chick who gets all the attention at a party. The terrorists who blow up others in the name of "belief". If we look deeply enough in the mirror, we might see glimpses of ourselves, if not committing the same acts, then at least occasionally exhibiting similar characteristics and motivations, or wishing that we could. The fear of consciously realizing this about ourselves enrages us and, voila!, our fear and rage is projected onto that other person. (Hmmm... Suddenly this is tying in with my post on hatred...)
When we take the bold step of looking back over our feelings, actions, and motivations, really, truly and objectively analyzing them, then we can begin to catch glimpses of our shadow. The next step is to admit that we have these imperfections. Not with shame or self-loathing, mind you. Just with objective, rational acceptance. Even the Dalai Lama's shit stinks, man. Learn to live with your pettiness and your darkness. We all have some assortment of bad habits, needs, desires and traits that would get us kicked out of Sunday School. Why be so ashamed and afraid? This is not to say one should give these traits and impulses free-reign, of course. There is a reason that they're considered "bad". But let them out of the dark cellar of the unconscious, show them a little compassion, and you may find there's less to be afraid of than you thought. They may even behave themselves better than you expect, and can color your personality in some very interesting, albeit quirky, ways. Treat them as little siblings of the "big brother" good qualities in your nature. While the big brother gets a scholarship, goes off to college, becomes an intelligent and magnanimous President of the United States, those dark little siblings can sit at home quietly blogging, not feeling so much need to act up because they know that they're unconditionally accepted.
I choose to live and to
Grow, take and give and to
Move, learn and love and to
Cry, kill and die and to be
Paranoid and to
Lie, hate and fear and to
Do what it takes to move through.
February 3, 2007
Some favorite song lyrics and quotes...
There is a rapture in the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes...
I love not man less, but nature more."
George Gordon, Lord Byron (I don't know which poem this is from, unfortunately. I just found it somewhere.)
"A man may take to drink because he feels himself to be a failure, and then fail all the more completely because he drinks. It is rather the same thing that is happening to the English language. It becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier to have foolish thoughts."
George Orwell, from his 1946 essay "Politics and the English Language"
"Think for yourself. Question authority. Throughout human history, as our species has faced the frightening, terrorizing fact that we do not know who we are, or where we are going in this ocean of chaos, it has been the authorities, the political, the religious, the educational authorities who attempted to comfort us by giving us order, rules, regulations, informing, forming in our minds their view of reality. To think for yourself you must question authority and learn how to put yourself in a state of vulnerable open-mindedness; chaotic, confused, vulnerability to inform yourself. Think for yourself. Question authority."
Timothy Leary, sampled on live version of "Third Eye", Salival (T00L)
"With an ounce of pain,
I wield a ton of rage..."
Chris Cornell, "Like Suicide", Superunknown (Soundgarden)
"The words you say
Never seem to live up to
The ones inside your head..."
Chris Cornell, "The Day I Tried to Live", Superunknown(Soundgarden)
"Friends and liars, don't wait for me.
I'll get on all by myself.
I put millions of miles
Under my heels,
And still too close to you I feel."
Chris Cornell, "I Am The Highway", Audioslave(Audioslave)
"Praise & blame,
gain & loss,
pleasure & sorrow,
come & go like the wind.
To be happy,
rest like a great tree
in the midst of them all."
The Buddha
"I choose to live and to
Grow, take and give and to
Move, learn and love and to
Cry, kill and die and to
Be paranoid and to
Lie, hate and fear and to
Do what it takes to move through."
Maynard James Keenan, "46+2", Aenima (T00L)
"Forget how soon
You become a fool for words
When I speak..."
Chris Cornell, "Flutter Girl", Euphoria Morning)
"With my feet upon the ground
I lose myself between the sounds
And open wide to suck it in,
I feel it move across my skin.
I'm reaching up and reaching out,
I'm reaching for the random or
What ever will bewilder me."
Maynard James Keenan, "Lateralus", Lateralus(T00L)
"Close your eyes and bow your head,
I need a little sympathy.
Cause fear is strong and love's for everyone
Who isn't me..."
Chris Cornell, "Burden In My Hand", Down on the Upside (Soundgarden)
"Sitting here like uninvited company,
Wallowing in my own obscenity,
I share a cigarette with negativity.
Sitting here like wet ashes with X's in my eyes,
And drawing flies..."
Chris Cornell, "Drawing Flies", Badmotorfinger(Soundgarden)
"And as I pull my head out I am without one doubt.
Don't wanna be down here feeding my narcissism.
I must crucify the ego before it's far too late.
I pray the light lifts me out
Before I pine away."
Maynard James Keenan, "Reflection", Lateralus (T00L)
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