Sunday, November 21, 2010
Not thinking
What I think of as thinking is probably not thinking. It is the automatic traffic of associations through my brain rather than conscious, deliberate thought. I am absorbed in a conversation with someone about Billy Collins's poem Lines Lost Among Trees, a conversation that has long since passed but I have more things I want to say, and I drive past the intersection where I wanted to turn. My mind is on automatic, or on vacation, as in Mose Allison's song. Then I am reminded of a description of the Giants manager, John McGraw, in the Glory of Their Times: "Any mental error, any failure to think, and McGraw would be all over you. ... However, he'd never get on you for a mechanical mistake, a fielding error or failure to get a hit." And I cannot count the errors I have made because of not thinking, or because of being wrapped up in my head, automatic thoughts, associations, whatever label you want. There's also the story of Milo, in the Phantom Tollbooth, driving along and he stops paying attention, when the sign points left he goes right, and after "mile after mile ..." he ends up in the Doldrums. Tock, the alarm clock watchdog, makes Milo understand that he got there by not thinking and with conscious, deliberate thought he can and does get the car moving again.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
"Te taire"
From Voltaire, Candide, http://www.literature.org/authors/voltaire/candide/chapter-30.html
In the neighborhood lived a famous dervish who passed for the best philosopher in Turkey; they went to consult him: Pangloss, who was their spokesman, addressed him thus:
"Master, we come to entreat you to tell us why so strange an animal as man has been formed?"
"Why do you trouble your head about it?" said the dervish; "is it any business of yours?"
"But, Reverend Father," said Candide, "there is a horrible deal of evil on the earth."
"What signifies it," said the dervish, "whether there is evil or good? When His Highness sends a ship to Egypt does he trouble his head whether the rats in the vessel are at their ease or not?"
"What must then be done?" said Pangloss.
"Be silent," answered the dervish.
(I believe in the original the dervish says "te taire," which could be translated as "shut up!")
Then they go on to meet a gardener, who says he doesn't mind what happens in the kingdom but cultivates his garden the best he can. And maybe that is the best I can do. I am not in charge of what I am not in charge, and usually I do not know what's best.
Shh/peaceful
In the neighborhood lived a famous dervish who passed for the best philosopher in Turkey; they went to consult him: Pangloss, who was their spokesman, addressed him thus:
"Master, we come to entreat you to tell us why so strange an animal as man has been formed?"
"Why do you trouble your head about it?" said the dervish; "is it any business of yours?"
"But, Reverend Father," said Candide, "there is a horrible deal of evil on the earth."
"What signifies it," said the dervish, "whether there is evil or good? When His Highness sends a ship to Egypt does he trouble his head whether the rats in the vessel are at their ease or not?"
"What must then be done?" said Pangloss.
"Be silent," answered the dervish.
(I believe in the original the dervish says "te taire," which could be translated as "shut up!")
Then they go on to meet a gardener, who says he doesn't mind what happens in the kingdom but cultivates his garden the best he can. And maybe that is the best I can do. I am not in charge of what I am not in charge, and usually I do not know what's best.
Shh/peaceful
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Tragic sense of life
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
creeps in this petty pace from day to day
and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusky death
Out, out, brief candle-
life's but a walking shadow,
a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage
and then is heard no more.
It is a tale told by an idiot,
full of sound and fury,
signifying nothing.
Shakespeare, MacBeth
I don't know where I was sitting or what I was thinking when MacBeth's speech came to me. It happens in the drama after he is alerted that Lady MacBeth is dead, and then he says something like "that's all we need now." It's a powerful, tragic speech, which combines the monotony of life in the first lines (petty pace from day to day,) a cumulative effect ("all our yesterdays," fatalism ("to dusky death" "heard no more",) fleeting quality of life ("walking shadow" "hour" "no more",) senselessness ("tale told by an idiot" "signifying nothing") and violence ("sound and fury"), the latter of which the play is especially about. It's ironic also that the player metaphor is used within the play, which is not unusual with the Bard.
Compare with Ecclesiastes:
"all is vanity.
What profit hath a man of all his labor which he taketh under the sun? ...
The wise man's eyes are in his head; but the fool walketh in darkness: and I myself perceived also that one event happeneth to them all. ... Yea, I hated all my labor which I had taken under the sun: because I should leave it unto the man that shall be after me."
and also:
"And I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to know madness and folly: I perceived that this also is vexation of spirit.
For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow."
However, Ecclesiastes says eat and drink up and be merry, for life is short. No such small comfort for MacBeth.
I don't know.
creeps in this petty pace from day to day
and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusky death
Out, out, brief candle-
life's but a walking shadow,
a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage
and then is heard no more.
It is a tale told by an idiot,
full of sound and fury,
signifying nothing.
Shakespeare, MacBeth
I don't know where I was sitting or what I was thinking when MacBeth's speech came to me. It happens in the drama after he is alerted that Lady MacBeth is dead, and then he says something like "that's all we need now." It's a powerful, tragic speech, which combines the monotony of life in the first lines (petty pace from day to day,) a cumulative effect ("all our yesterdays," fatalism ("to dusky death" "heard no more",) fleeting quality of life ("walking shadow" "hour" "no more",) senselessness ("tale told by an idiot" "signifying nothing") and violence ("sound and fury"), the latter of which the play is especially about. It's ironic also that the player metaphor is used within the play, which is not unusual with the Bard.
Compare with Ecclesiastes:
"all is vanity.
What profit hath a man of all his labor which he taketh under the sun? ...
The wise man's eyes are in his head; but the fool walketh in darkness: and I myself perceived also that one event happeneth to them all. ... Yea, I hated all my labor which I had taken under the sun: because I should leave it unto the man that shall be after me."
and also:
"And I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to know madness and folly: I perceived that this also is vexation of spirit.
For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow."
However, Ecclesiastes says eat and drink up and be merry, for life is short. No such small comfort for MacBeth.
I don't know.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
"Trust in abundance"
Gretchen, in her wonderful Happiness Project, in the section "Spend Out," talks of how she learns to "trust in abundance," not to be stingy with things, with time, with love, with giving herself. (See a related post on her blog.) She gives examples, such as saving nice stationery to the point of never using it, and then finally using it to send photos of her kids to their grandparents. "What better occasion," she writes. "Spend out," she says " is not to be a scorekeeper, not to stint on love and generosity." It is also trusting "in abundance," that when we meaningfully spend or use something or give our time or money, more will be given to us. Rena gives a similar description of abundance in her latest newsletter: "Nature is abundant. There are endless stars in the sky and endless grains of sand on a beach. The universe around us is naturally abundant and so are the possibilities for manifesting what we want. According to nature's principles, it is more natural to receive what we want, then it is not to. We need to stop our thoughts from repelling what the natural flow of the universe is trying to bring to us." Maybe it's also like Matthew 14:29, the one who uses the talents gets back more, but the one hoards loses even that which he has. Also, "my cup runneth over," says the psalmist.
Which reminds me of two stories, one from a friend and one from an acquaintance. I sat with a friend in his garden yesterday and he told me how he and his wife went to Vegas and went to the casino just before they were getting on the plane, having checked out of their hotel. My friend likes to play Keno, and went to a machine that he had frequented. He won $10,000. The management was going to give him cash, which he didn't want since they were about to get on the plane. They told him that they would give him one check, and not pay him if he won anymore, so he took it and they went to the airport. His wife was full of ideas about how they should spend the money, but my friend said he had always wanted to take the family to Disney World, which in fact they did. I admired that he didn't hoard it, save it for a day that might never come, but just pursued his wish, whatever it was.
The other story a man told, saying he's always liked cars. A friend was driving him to his volunteer job at a museum, because he couldn't drive himself, having recently had open heart surgery. The drive had a Porsche, and my acquaintance was envious. "You should get one," his friend told him. My acquaintance said how he couldn't afford one, and was told that he could find one used. So he looked online and found one within his price range, wearying himself with considerations on whether he should spend the money this way, or how it would look to other people. But he said he finally decided that his friend's words to him might be God's way of telling him to be kind to himself, and so he bought the car and he's very happy with it.
I tell these things not because I have examples of my own, being fearful and stingy and like the servant who would hide the money (I did hide the money and not invest it, and then I had to lose it, paying some bills.) And yet, opportunities have come my way again and again, and I may not always get what I want, but I get what I need.
Which reminds me of two stories, one from a friend and one from an acquaintance. I sat with a friend in his garden yesterday and he told me how he and his wife went to Vegas and went to the casino just before they were getting on the plane, having checked out of their hotel. My friend likes to play Keno, and went to a machine that he had frequented. He won $10,000. The management was going to give him cash, which he didn't want since they were about to get on the plane. They told him that they would give him one check, and not pay him if he won anymore, so he took it and they went to the airport. His wife was full of ideas about how they should spend the money, but my friend said he had always wanted to take the family to Disney World, which in fact they did. I admired that he didn't hoard it, save it for a day that might never come, but just pursued his wish, whatever it was.
The other story a man told, saying he's always liked cars. A friend was driving him to his volunteer job at a museum, because he couldn't drive himself, having recently had open heart surgery. The drive had a Porsche, and my acquaintance was envious. "You should get one," his friend told him. My acquaintance said how he couldn't afford one, and was told that he could find one used. So he looked online and found one within his price range, wearying himself with considerations on whether he should spend the money this way, or how it would look to other people. But he said he finally decided that his friend's words to him might be God's way of telling him to be kind to himself, and so he bought the car and he's very happy with it.
I tell these things not because I have examples of my own, being fearful and stingy and like the servant who would hide the money (I did hide the money and not invest it, and then I had to lose it, paying some bills.) And yet, opportunities have come my way again and again, and I may not always get what I want, but I get what I need.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
"That's right" (Jose) (from my life)
I knew a man named Jose, probably fifteen or twenty years older than me, married with kids, who was the asst mgr at the Waldenbooks I worked at when I took a year off from college to waste time. This was in 1986. I met him the first day I nervously worked there, discerned he had a sense of humor as he bantered with Jack, the evening guy and young man in a hurry. I described my first day to my parents and mentioned Jose. "Does he say 'no way'" my Dad asked. "No, but he says that's right," I replied, and "that's right" was (may still be) Jose's trademark, wehat he'd say in agreement, with humor, with laughter, sometimes stressing the vowels "Thaaat's riiiight!"
I learned from Jose to make the best of the situation, or I learned to say it, not necessarily to do it. Waldenbooks of course pushed their bestsellers, the Danielle Steels, Jackie Collins, Robert Schullers. (More on that later, maybe.) Jose loved to make "dumps" (book displays), and he would go to highbrow bookstores such as Wordsworth, Harvard Book Store, Penguin Books (all around Harvard Square in Cambridge, ) see what titles they displayed them, order them for our store in Lexington, MA and put them up front. They sold, he said.
Jose took an interest in me early on, when he saw me with a copy of Ibsen's plays. "did you read the Enemy of the People.," he asked me. I hadn't but later we talked about that, along with Ghosts and A Doll's House. Jose was very much in tune with the times and current events. "Did you watch Nightline last night?" he would inquire. I never did, but he would tell me about it. "It was very interesting," he would say, and that would lead to a description of something that was in fact very interesting, like Desmond Tutu not being given the last word against his apartheid opponent. He was attuned to popular culture and its absurdities, in fact I did not get a lot of his references. We discussed the Philipine uprising in detail (on one of the Waldenbooks displays he wrote next to a woman enjoying an island vacation "Imelda and her shoes",) and such events as Marcos trying to claim presidency in exile, or Tolentino trying to claim right of succession (I said that he had gone to the Alexander Haig school of diplomacy; "I'm in charge here!")
He would tease me about my left-wing politics. Once I came in and apologized for being late. "It's OK," he said darkly. "[then CIA director] Casey called to say you'd be on your way." Another time he looked at me in disgust and said "You - You're to the left of everything."
Jose talked about his time in Sweden as a student and how the prime minister, Olof Palme, came and talked to the students and asked essentially, "Just what is your beef with with the government." (Contrast that with Rocky giving the kids the finger at Attica. ;) ) Jose's thinking was that if you treated people with consideration and respect they would do well. I mostly did, but I clowned around with Jose and others, showed up late, and defaced discount labels, writing "if we [Waldenbooks] have it, you have to buy it." I was a know-nothing 21-year-old who thought he knew everything, and at the same time I knew I was learning from Jose.
Jose lent me two books on St Francis and liberation theology. I didn't read them until many years later, and then I went back to the bookstore and said you may not remember me, but here are your books, they were great. "I knew they were in a good place," he said to me, and we talked happily about finally having a Democrat in the White House (Clinton).
The last time I saw Jose was in the HMV record store in Harvard Square which closed sometime around the millennium. I don't know if he was able to do much there and they probably decreased his inventory. But he is a positive person with a great sense of humor and doesn't take himself too seriously (a lesson I could've learned from him then and maybe saved myself a lot of grief, oh well.)
Are you out there, Jose?
I salute you.
I learned from Jose to make the best of the situation, or I learned to say it, not necessarily to do it. Waldenbooks of course pushed their bestsellers, the Danielle Steels, Jackie Collins, Robert Schullers. (More on that later, maybe.) Jose loved to make "dumps" (book displays), and he would go to highbrow bookstores such as Wordsworth, Harvard Book Store, Penguin Books (all around Harvard Square in Cambridge, ) see what titles they displayed them, order them for our store in Lexington, MA and put them up front. They sold, he said.
Jose took an interest in me early on, when he saw me with a copy of Ibsen's plays. "did you read the Enemy of the People.," he asked me. I hadn't but later we talked about that, along with Ghosts and A Doll's House. Jose was very much in tune with the times and current events. "Did you watch Nightline last night?" he would inquire. I never did, but he would tell me about it. "It was very interesting," he would say, and that would lead to a description of something that was in fact very interesting, like Desmond Tutu not being given the last word against his apartheid opponent. He was attuned to popular culture and its absurdities, in fact I did not get a lot of his references. We discussed the Philipine uprising in detail (on one of the Waldenbooks displays he wrote next to a woman enjoying an island vacation "Imelda and her shoes",) and such events as Marcos trying to claim presidency in exile, or Tolentino trying to claim right of succession (I said that he had gone to the Alexander Haig school of diplomacy; "I'm in charge here!")
He would tease me about my left-wing politics. Once I came in and apologized for being late. "It's OK," he said darkly. "[then CIA director] Casey called to say you'd be on your way." Another time he looked at me in disgust and said "You - You're to the left of everything."
Jose talked about his time in Sweden as a student and how the prime minister, Olof Palme, came and talked to the students and asked essentially, "Just what is your beef with with the government." (Contrast that with Rocky giving the kids the finger at Attica. ;) ) Jose's thinking was that if you treated people with consideration and respect they would do well. I mostly did, but I clowned around with Jose and others, showed up late, and defaced discount labels, writing "if we [Waldenbooks] have it, you have to buy it." I was a know-nothing 21-year-old who thought he knew everything, and at the same time I knew I was learning from Jose.
Jose lent me two books on St Francis and liberation theology. I didn't read them until many years later, and then I went back to the bookstore and said you may not remember me, but here are your books, they were great. "I knew they were in a good place," he said to me, and we talked happily about finally having a Democrat in the White House (Clinton).
The last time I saw Jose was in the HMV record store in Harvard Square which closed sometime around the millennium. I don't know if he was able to do much there and they probably decreased his inventory. But he is a positive person with a great sense of humor and doesn't take himself too seriously (a lesson I could've learned from him then and maybe saved myself a lot of grief, oh well.)
Are you out there, Jose?
I salute you.
Waltham
Waltham, MA
I want to be da mayor.
It's my town, y'all just live in it.
Walking past the Waltham Public Library, they had some Burma shave type signs announcing their utility. There was a beautiful girl sitting on the steps with her laptop, even though the library was closed, enjoying the 802.11.
Walking along Moody St, crisp blocks, chattering from restaurants, bars with their doors open (I didn't go in), calm, windless night, lonely girls smoking cigarettes, groups of young people with their takeaway, immigrants getting off work, greengrocers still open displaying rich papaya and discounted oranges.
Then across the Charles River, not quite at its height of several days ago. I thought I'd crossed the river for good nine years ago, but I was wrong.
Beautiful old brick and stone architecture. Harry's Shoes for rent even with its name emblazoned in the stone (maybe it was a great store and it's sad or maybe they were crooks; I don't know.)
Somehow my feet got me home (maybe I should write an Ode to My Legs ala Neruda).
I want to be da mayor.
It's my town, y'all just live in it.
Walking past the Waltham Public Library, they had some Burma shave type signs announcing their utility. There was a beautiful girl sitting on the steps with her laptop, even though the library was closed, enjoying the 802.11.
Walking along Moody St, crisp blocks, chattering from restaurants, bars with their doors open (I didn't go in), calm, windless night, lonely girls smoking cigarettes, groups of young people with their takeaway, immigrants getting off work, greengrocers still open displaying rich papaya and discounted oranges.
Then across the Charles River, not quite at its height of several days ago. I thought I'd crossed the river for good nine years ago, but I was wrong.
Beautiful old brick and stone architecture. Harry's Shoes for rent even with its name emblazoned in the stone (maybe it was a great store and it's sad or maybe they were crooks; I don't know.)
Somehow my feet got me home (maybe I should write an Ode to My Legs ala Neruda).
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Eugen Kullmann (1915-2002) (pt.2)
(Part One)
Part Two
In that first meeting of ours (9/7/86?), Kullmann impressed upon me several things about religion. "God is the silent answer to the last question," he stated, leaving me to wonder what the last question might be. He listed for me his five criteria for religion, which included attitudes towards slavery, women, the poor, animals and man's place in the cosmos. He pointed to Jonah as an example of the concern for animals "And should not I pity Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than 120,000 persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also much cattle?” "And so much cattle," he repeated to me with a soft smile. Then he pointed to another verse:
"Do not muzzle an ox while it is treading out the grain (Deuteronomy 5:24) and how the early Christians failed this criterion: "For it is written in the Law of Moses: "Do not muzzle an ox while it is treading out the grain." Is it about oxen that God is concerned?" Surely he says this for us, doesn't he? Yes, this was written for us, because when the plowman plows and the thresher threshes, they ought to do so in the hope of sharing in the harvest." (1 Corinthians 9:9-10) In this case, the early Christians failed to meet the criterion.
Kullmann recommended to me Cassirer, the second volume of Philosophy of Symbolic Forms, which is devoted to myth and religion and other sources which I did not read (I did make mutliple attempts to read Cassirer's Essay on Man, learning that we are not only thinking animals but symbolic animals in Cassirer's view, but maybe subsequent science has determined that other animals engage in symbols, I don't know.) "Everything with religion, nothing out of religion" he quoted from Schleirmacher. Similarly, he mentioned one of Job's friends saying: "If you are righteous, what do you give to him? Or what does he receive from your hand?" "We do the right thing not because religion tells us," he stressed to me; "we do it because it is right." He did not like the translation I was using (the New Oxford Bible, Revised Standard Version) and advised me to look at other translations, giving me one of his own of a famous passage: "I know that my ransomer lives, and that he stands upon the earth, and if my flesh should be torn from my bones I shall still take my refuge in God." (Job 19: 24-25) (Later he quoted Terence "Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto.") And then he stopped and said "Now, we have some ice cream," and then "Can you eat a banana," he asked eagerly. "Where are you now in your Latin," I was quizzed and then he sent me home in the end of the warm sunny afternoon thinking I would read Job in full when actually we were due to start the Pentateuch.
Part Two
In that first meeting of ours (9/7/86?), Kullmann impressed upon me several things about religion. "God is the silent answer to the last question," he stated, leaving me to wonder what the last question might be. He listed for me his five criteria for religion, which included attitudes towards slavery, women, the poor, animals and man's place in the cosmos. He pointed to Jonah as an example of the concern for animals "And should not I pity Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than 120,000 persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also much cattle?” "And so much cattle," he repeated to me with a soft smile. Then he pointed to another verse:
"Do not muzzle an ox while it is treading out the grain (Deuteronomy 5:24) and how the early Christians failed this criterion: "For it is written in the Law of Moses: "Do not muzzle an ox while it is treading out the grain." Is it about oxen that God is concerned?" Surely he says this for us, doesn't he? Yes, this was written for us, because when the plowman plows and the thresher threshes, they ought to do so in the hope of sharing in the harvest." (1 Corinthians 9:9-10) In this case, the early Christians failed to meet the criterion.
Kullmann recommended to me Cassirer, the second volume of Philosophy of Symbolic Forms, which is devoted to myth and religion and other sources which I did not read (I did make mutliple attempts to read Cassirer's Essay on Man, learning that we are not only thinking animals but symbolic animals in Cassirer's view, but maybe subsequent science has determined that other animals engage in symbols, I don't know.) "Everything with religion, nothing out of religion" he quoted from Schleirmacher. Similarly, he mentioned one of Job's friends saying: "If you are righteous, what do you give to him? Or what does he receive from your hand?" "We do the right thing not because religion tells us," he stressed to me; "we do it because it is right." He did not like the translation I was using (the New Oxford Bible, Revised Standard Version) and advised me to look at other translations, giving me one of his own of a famous passage: "I know that my ransomer lives, and that he stands upon the earth, and if my flesh should be torn from my bones I shall still take my refuge in God." (Job 19: 24-25) (Later he quoted Terence "Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto.") And then he stopped and said "Now, we have some ice cream," and then "Can you eat a banana," he asked eagerly. "Where are you now in your Latin," I was quizzed and then he sent me home in the end of the warm sunny afternoon thinking I would read Job in full when actually we were due to start the Pentateuch.
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